A Book About Words

by G. F. Graham

Palfrey.—This is a contraction of the French ‘par le frein’ (by the bridle). It is a horse used on state occasions, and distinguished from the war horse—a horse led by the bridle, ‘mené par le frein.’

Pamphlet.—It is supposed that this word is a contraction of the French ‘par un filet.’ It means a small book, not bound, but held together by a thread—‘tenu par un filet.’

Pavilion is derived directly from the French ‘pavillon,’ where it is used in the sense of a tent or flag. But the origin of the word is the Latin ‘papilio,’ a butterfly. Tents or flags would be so called, because of their flapping about as a butterfly.

Person. This word was originally a theatrical term, and properly meant an actor. The theatres of the ancient Romans were built so large as to contain between 30,000 and 40,000 people. Now it was impossible for the actors to make themselves heard through so large a space; and they therefore wore masks, inside of which, close to the aperture for the mouth, was a certain mechanical contrivance, which made the voice more sonorous, so that the actors’ words could be heard in all parts of the theatre. The Latin for a mask is ‘persona,’ so called because the voice sounded through it. Per is in Latin, ‘through;’ and son is the root of the verb ‘sonare’ to sound. By a common figure of speech, the word meaning ‘mask’ (persona) was afterwards applied to its wearer; and thus ‘persona’ came to signify ‘actor.’ This was its original, theatrical meaning. But, as all human beings are, in one sense, actors—as they all have a part to play on the stage of life, the word ‘person’ was afterwards used in a general sense to signify any one man or woman. In one special case, it appears in the form ‘parson,’ to designate the ‘chief person,’ or priest, of a parish. In this sense, however, the word is now falling into disuse.

Pet. The French adjective ‘petit’ (small) is derived from the Latin participle, ‘petitus,’ sought after. From this root came the English word ‘pet.’ ‘My pet’ means literally, ‘my sought after or desired one.’ ‘Petty’ is also from the French ‘petit;’ but it has degenerated: and is now always used in a bad sense, as in a ‘petty action.’

Pert is nothing else than the old French ‘aperte,’ (from the Latin apertus) open, public, without concealment. The sense has now degenerated into ‘saucy’ or ‘impudent.’ ‘Malapert’ had that meaning from the beginning; but this word is now seldom used. ‘Pert’ seems to have taken its place.

Poltroon. The derivation of this word is still undecided; but the following account of it has been offered. In the later ages of the Roman empire, the ancient valour of the citizens had so degenerated that, rather than fight, many actually cut off their right thumbs, in order to disable themselves from using the pike. The Latin for ‘thumb’ is ‘pollex’; and ‘truncus’ means, in that language, ‘maimed’ or ‘mutilated.’ These two roots put together give us ‘pol-troon’ from ‘pollice truncus,’ i.e. with the thumb cut off. As this was done with a cowardly motive, the word very naturally came to signify a coward, a meaning which it retains to this day.

Pontiff (Lat. pontifex). There are various etymologies of this word. Varro derives it from ‘pons,’ a bridge, and ‘facĕre,’ to make or build. He says that the pontiffs had built the ‘pons sublicius’ (over the Tiber); and afterwards restored it, that sacrifices might be performed on each side of the river. It is now used only as a title of the Pope of Rome.

Porpoise. This word is from the French porc (hog) and poisson (fish); so called from its resemblance to a hog. Spenser spells the word ‘porcpisces.’ It is singular that, in this case, the French should have adopted the Teutonic word ‘marsouin’ (mereswine); while in English it is known by its French name—‘porc-poisson.’

Post. The apparently contradictory meanings of this word may give it a peculiar interest. In its original sense, it means something placed; from the Latin participle ‘positum’; as, for example, a pillar fixed in the street. But we also hear of post haste, post horses, &c., and, in these cases, the meaning seems directly opposed to the etymology. When letters, parcels, &c. were first transmitted from place to place, stations (or posts) were placed at intervals from each other, and letters were rapidly passed on by messengers from one station to the next, and so on, across the whole country. This was called post haste; i.e. in such haste as was used when letters were sent in the above-described way.