On the Study of Words by Richard Chenevix Trench (primary phonics txt) 📗

of one, is assumed also of the other, of which it is not true. Thus, for instance, it often is with 'instruction' and 'education,' Cannot we 'instruct' a child, it is asked, cannot we teach it geography, or arithmetic, or grammar, quite independently of the Catechism, or even of the Scriptures? No doubt you may; but can you 'educate' without bringing moral and spiritual forces to bear upon the mind and affections of the child? And you must not be permitted to transfer the admissions which we freely make in regard of 'instruction,' as though they also held good in respect of 'education.' For what is 'education'? Is it a furnishing of a man from without with knowledge and facts and information? or is it a drawing forth from within and a training of the spirit, of the true humanity which is latent in him? Is the process of education the filling of the child's mind, as a cistern is filled with waters brought in buckets from some other source? or the opening up for that child of fountains which are already there? Now if we give any heed to the word 'education,' and to the voice which speaks therein, we shall not long be in doubt. Education must educe, being from 'educare,' which is but another form of 'educere'; and that is to draw out, and not to put in. 'To draw out' what is in the child, the immortal spirit which is there, this is the end of education; and so much the word declares. The putting in is indeed most needful, that is, the child must be instructed as well as educated, and 'instruction' means furnishing; but not instructed instead of educated. He must first have powers awakened in him, measures of value given him; and then he will know how to deal with the facts of this outward world; then instruction in these will profit him; but not without the higher training, still less as a substitute for it.

It has occasionally happened that the question which out of two apparent synonyms should be adopted in some important state-document has been debated with no little earnestness and passion; as at the great English Revolution of 1688, when the two Houses of Parliament were at issue whether it should be declared of James II, that he had 'abdicated,' or had 'deserted,' the throne. This might seem at first sight a mere strife about words, and yet, in reality, serious constitutional questions were involved in the debate. The Commons insisted on the word 'abdicated,' not as wishing to imply that in any act of the late king there had been an official renunciation of the crown, which would have been manifestly untrue; but because 'abdicated' in their minds alone expressed the fact that James had so borne himself as virtually to have entirely renounced, disowned, and relinquished the crown, to have forfeited and separated himself from it, and from any right to it for ever; while 'deserted' would have seemed to leave room and an opening for a return, which they were determined to declare for ever excluded; as were it said of a husband that he had 'deserted' his wife, or of a soldier that he had 'deserted' his colours, this language would imply not only that he might, but that he was bound to return. The speech of Lord Somers on the occasion is a masterly specimen of synonymous discrimination, and an example of the uses in highest matters of state to which it may be turned. As little was it a mere verbal struggle when, at the restoration a good many years ago of our interrupted relations with Persia, Lord Palmerston insisted that the Shah should address the Queen of England not as 'Maleketh' but as 'Padischah,' refusing to receive letters which wanted this superscription.

Let me press upon you, in conclusion, some few of the many advantages to be derived from the habit of distinguishing synonyms. These advantages we might presume to be many, even though we could not ourselves perceive them; for how often do the greatest masters of style in every tongue, perhaps none so often as Cicero, the greatest of all, [Footnote: Thus he distinguishes between 'voluntas' and 'cupiditas'; 'cautio' and 'metus' (Tusc. iv. 6); 'gaudium,' 'laetitia,' 'voluptas' (Tusc. iv. 6; Fin. ii. 4); 'prudentia' and 'sapientia' (Off. i. 43); 'caritas' and 'amor' (De Part. Or. 25); 'ebrius' and 'ebriosus,' 'iracundus' and 'iratus,' 'anxietas' and 'angor' (Tusc. iv. 12); 'vitium,' 'morbus,' and 'aegrotatio' (Tusc. iv. 13); 'labor' and 'dolor' (Tusc. ii. 15); 'furor' and 'insania' (Tusc. iii. 5); 'malitia' and 'vitiositas' (Tusc. iv. 15); 'doctus' and 'peritus' (Off. i. 3). Quintilian also often bestows attention on synonyms, observing well (vi. 3. 17): 'Pluribus nominibus in eadem re vulgo utimur; quae tamen si diducas, suam quandam propriam vim ostendent;' he adduces 'salsum,' 'urbanum,' 'facetum'; and elsewhere (v. 3) 'rumor' and 'fama' are discriminated happily by him. Among Church writers Augustine is a frequent and successful discriminator of words. Thus he separates off from one another 'flagitium' and 'facinus' (De Doct. Christ, iii. 10); 'aemulatio' and 'invidia' (Expl. ad Gal. x. 20); 'arrha' and 'pignus' (Serm. 23. 8,9); 'studiosus' and 'curiosus' (De Util. Cred. 9); 'sapientia' and 'scientia' (De Div. Quaes. 2, qu. 2); 'senecta' and 'senium' (Enarr. in Ps. 70. l8); 'schisma' and 'haeresis' (Con. Cresc. 2. 7); with many more (see my Synonyms of the N.T. Preface, p. xvi). Among the merits of the Grimms' Wörterbuch is the care which they, and those who have taken up their work, bestow on the discrimination of synonyms; distinguishing, for example, 'degen' and 'schwert'; 'feld,' 'acker' and 'heide'; 'aar' and 'adler'; 'antlitz' and 'angesicht'; 'kelch,' 'becher' and 'glas'; 'frau' and 'weib'; 'butter,' 'schmalz' and 'anke'; 'kopf' and 'haupt'; 'klug' and 'weise'; 'geben' and 'schenken'; 'heirath' and 'ehe.'] pause to discriminate between the words they are using; how much care and labour, how much subtlety of thought, they have counted well bestowed on the operation; how much importance they avowedly attach to it; not to say that their works, even where they do not intend it, will afford a continual lesson in this respect: a great writer merely in the precision and accuracy with which he employs words will always be exercising us in synonymous distinction. But the advantages of attending to synonyms need not be taken on trust; they are evident. How large a part of true wisdom it is to be able to distinguish between things that differ, things seemingly, but not really, alike, is very remarkably attested by our words 'discernment' and 'discretion'; which are now used as equivalent, the first to 'insight,' the second to 'prudence'; while yet in their earlier usage, and according to their etymology, being both from 'discerno,' they signify the power of so seeing things that in the seeing we distinguish and separate them one from another. [Footnote: L'esprit consiste à connaitre la ressemblance des choses diverses, et la différence des choses semblables (Montesquieu). Saint-Evremond says of a reunion of the Précieuses at the Hotel Rambouillet, with a raillery which is not meant to be disrespectful— 'Là se font distinguer les fiertés des rigueurs, Les dédains des mépris, les tourments des langueurs; On y sait démêler la crainte et les alarmes, Discerner les attraits, les appas et les charmes.'] Such were originally 'discernment' and 'discretion,' and such in great measure they are still. And in words is a material ever at hand on which to train the spirit to a skilfulness in this; on which to exercise its sagacity through the habit of distinguishing there where it would be so easy to confound. [Footnote: I will suggest here a few pairs or larger groups of words on which those who are willing to exercise themselves in the distinction of synonyms might perhaps profitably exercise their skill;—'fame,' 'popularity,' 'celebrity,' 'reputation,' 'renown';— 'misfortune,' 'calamity,' 'disaster';—'impediment,' 'obstruction,' 'obstacle,' 'hindrance';—'temerity,' 'audacity,' 'boldness';— 'rebuke,' 'reprimand,' 'censure,' 'blame';—'adversary,' 'opponent,' 'antagonist,' 'enemy';—'rival,' 'competitor';—'affluence,' 'opulence,' 'abundance,' 'redundance';—'conduct,' 'behaviour,' 'demeanour,' 'bearing';—'execration,' 'malediction,' 'imprecation,' 'anathema';—'avaricious,' 'covetous,' 'miserly,' 'niggardly';— 'hypothesis,' 'theory,' 'system' (see De Quincey, Lit. Rem. American ed. p.229);—'masculine,' 'manly';—'effeminate,' 'feminine';— 'womanly,' 'womanish';—'malicious,' 'malignant';—'savage,' 'barbarous,' 'fierce,' 'cruel,' 'inhuman';—'low, 'mean,' 'abject,' 'base';—'to chasten,' 'to punish,' 'to chastise';—'to exile,' 'to banish';—'to declare,' 'to disclose,' 'to reveal,' 'to divulge';—'to defend,' 'to protect,' 'to shelter';—'to excuse,' 'to palliate';—'to compel,' 'to coerce,' 'to constrain,' 'to force.'] Nor is this habit of discrimination only valuable as a part of our intellectual training; but what a positive increase is it of mental wealth when we have learned to discern between things which really differ, and have made the distinctions between them permanently our own in the only way whereby they can be made secure, that is, by assigning to each its appropriate word and peculiar sign.

In the effort to trace lines of demarcation you may little by little be drawn into the heart of subjects the most instructive; for only as you have thoroughly mastered a subject, and all which is most characteristic about it, can you hope to trace these lines with accuracy and success. Thus a Roman of the higher classes might bear four names: 'praenomen,' 'nomen,' 'cognomen,' 'agnomen'; almost always bore three. You will know something of the political and family life of Rome when you can tell the exact story of each of these, and the precise difference between them. He will not be altogether ignorant of the Middle Ages and of the clamps which in those ages bound society together, who has learned exactly to distinguish between a 'fief' and a 'benefice.' He will have obtained a firm grasp on some central facts of theology who can exactly draw out the distinction between 'reconciliation,' 'propitiation,' 'atonement,' as used in the New Testament; of Church history, who can trace the difference between a 'schism' and a 'heresy.' One who has learned to discriminate between 'detraction' and 'slander,' as Barrow has done before him, [Footnote: 'Slander involveth an imputation of falsehood, but detraction may be couched in truth, and clothed in fair language. It is a poison often infused in sweet liquor, and ministered in a golden cup.' Compare Spenser, Fairy Queen, 5. 12. 28-43.] or between 'emulation' and 'envy,' in which South has excellently shown him the way, [Footnote: Sermons, 1737, vol. v. p. 403. His words are quoted in my Select Glossary, s. v 'Emulation.'] or between 'avarice' and 'covetousness,' with Cowley, will have made no unprofitable excursion into the region of ethics.

How effectual a help, moreover, will it prove to the writing of a good English style, if instead of choosing almost at hap-hazard from a group of words which seem to us one about as fit for our purpose as another, we at once know which, and which only, we ought in the case before us to employ, which will prove the exact vesture of our thoughts. It is the first characteristic of a well-dressed man that his clothes fit him: they are not too small and shrunken here, too large and loose there. Now it is precisely such a prime characteristic of a good style, that the words fit close to the thoughts. They will not be too big here, hanging like a giant's robe on the limbs of a dwarf; nor too small there, as a boy's garments into which the man has painfully and ridiculously thrust himself. You do not, as you read, feel in one place that the writer means more than he has succeeded in saying; in another that he has said more than he means; in a third something beside what his precise intention was; in a fourth that he has failed to convey any meaning at all; and all this from a lack of skill in employing the instrument of language, of precision in knowing what words would be the exactest correspondents and aptest exponents of his thoughts. [Footnote: La propriété des termes est le caractère distinctif des grands écrivains; c'est par là que leur style est toujours au niveau de leur sujet; c'est à cette qualité qu'on reconnaît le vrai talent d'écrire, et non à l'art futile de déguiser par un vain coloris les idées communes. So D'Alembert; but Caesar long before had said, Delectus verborum, eloquentiae origo.]

What a wealth of words in almost every language lies inert and unused; and certainly not fewest in our own. How much of what might be as current coin among us, is shut up in the treasure-house of a few classical authors, or is never to be met at all but in the columns of the dictionary, we meanwhile, in the midst of all this riches, condemning ourselves to a voluntary poverty; and often, with tasks the most delicate and difficult to accomplish,—for surely the clothing of thought in its most appropriate garment of words is such,—needlessly depriving ourselves of a large portion of the helps at our command; like some workman who, being furnished for an operation that will challenge all his skill with a dozen different tools, each adapted for its own special purpose,