"Dispensation" and the Relevant Utility of Johnson's Dictionary: Last Week

 My word this week is “dispensation.” Johnson gives three usages for the term, but interestingly they are not how the word is used in the King James Version of the Bible. The current text of the King James Bible is from 1769 and the original text is from 1611. Between these dates there were several versions updating the 1611 text – especially in updating the language from the Early Modern English of the beginning of the seventeenth century to the more mature English of the mid eighteenth century, with its spellings and grammar closer to modern-day usage. 

The English word “dispensation” is found in four verses and only in the New Testament (KJV): First Corinthians 9:17; Ephesians 1:10 and 3:2; and Colossians 1:25. In each of these verses the word translates the Greek root οἰκονομία (oikonomia). This Greek word means, in simple terms, management or stewardship. This is how it is used in each of the verses cited, but Johnson says nothing of stewardship in his definitions. So how does one arrive at the consistent use of “dispensation” in the biblical text? The answer lies in the Latin. Johnson writes that “dispensation” comes from the Latin word dispensatio. This is confirmed in Lewis’ A Latin Dictionary (the link to this book can be found to the right). Lewis states that dispensatio represents the same meaning as the Greek root word διοίκησις (dioikāsis) – the office of οἰκονομία (management or stewardship). The connection between dispensatio and οἰκονομία and διοίκησις leads to the French dispensation which has been brought into English without alteration. 

So, what of the King James Bible and its use of “dispensation?” You might recall that earlier we connected this to Latin. The standard historical Latin text of the Bible is Jerome’s fourth century Vulgate. It is significant that in each of the four verses cited earlier, the Vulgate uses dispensatio or its accusative form dispensationem. The Vulgate had a strong influence on early translations of the Bible into English and the 1381 John Wycliffe Bible is a prime example of that influence, being a direct translation from the Vulgate into English. Not surprisingly, the Wycliffe Bible uses an Anglicized form of dispensatio in each of the four verses already referenced. Beyond this, both the 1568 Bishops’ Bible and the 1587 Geneva Bible use “dispensation” in the verses, setting an influential precedent for the King James Version revisors in 1609 to 1611. Noteworthy also, is Randle Cotgrave’s 1611 lexical entry for “dispensation” which states that that term means, “a distribution, or disposing of things” – very similar to Johnson’s expanded definition. 

From this inquiry, it seems that “dispensation” was not commonly used among Early Modern English speakers as it had been used in Latin, from whence the word was derived, nor did the English usage correspond to the Greek meaning. Obviously then, the King James revisors maintained the Latin meaning rather than the common and more contemporary English use. Because the English use of “dispensation” was rather distant from the Latin, Johnson’s entry maintained the common English meanings even over the Greek and Latin meaning brought into standard English Bible texts of Johnson’s day. 

To summarize and perhaps clarify a bit, this article has offered a brief glimpse into reasons why Johnson’s definition of “dispensation” differs considerably from the King James Bible’s use of “dispensation,” though the Bible text was prominently diffused throughout the writings of the period – far more so than today’s writings of the English-speaking world. The short answer is that the common English use of the word in Johnson’s day had taken on a different connotation after having been taken from its Latin and Greek roots, so his dictionary reflected the use of his time. This certainly shows Johnson’s intention to solidly root his work in contemporary English and make his dictionary the more useful rather than nostalgically archaic. 

Until next time. 

John

"Disloyal" and a Primer on Gentleman by C. S. Lewis: Twelfth Week

 My word this week is "disloyal." This is a common enough word today, but it is what Johnson says about its possible usages that is interesting. The lexicographer gives four usages:

1. Not true to allegiance; faithless; false to a sovereign; disobedient.

2.  Dishonest; perfidious. Obsolete.

3. Not true to the marriage-bed.

4. False in love; not constant. The three latter senses are now obsolete.

Johnson relates that only the first usage was in use in his day. The last three had fallen out of use. The obsolescence of a word over a period of time is also commented on by C. S. Lewis in his preface to Mere Christianity.   

Here Lewis explains that the word gentleman once meant "something recognisable; one who had a coat of arms and some landed property." The term merely described a state of being of the man and was not describing one who possesses honorable character. The latter meaning is certainly the normal usage in contemporary speech.  How did the change come into being? Lewis declares that it was the desire to be charitable, to spiritualize the word that brought the change. Spiritualizing the word not only changed its meaning but also changed its fundamental character from objective to subjective. Gentleman became a means to express praise, with the decision to give or withhold the praise a matter of personal approval because of what one perceives gentlemanly behavior to be. Lewis says this destroyed the utility of the word. Saying more about the viewpoint of the praiser rather than an objective consideration of the object at hand, gentleman became a "useless word." Sufficient words for praise already existed and the new use rendered the old objective use untenable without voluminous explanation. 

Trading objectivity for subjectivism in lexicography is a fallacy in fundamentals. The very nature of words are changed. Just as objectively describing the material possessions of a person is fundamentally different from describing their character; so is gentleman as a term of praise compared to a term describing what a man owns. The dichotomy is irrefutable. One is not the same as the other; neither can it be. 

This is why it is so important to understand that word meanings can and often do change over time, but being able to recognize whether the change is small and nuanced or is gross and a shift in identity from objective to subjective. Not seeing and comprehending this shift can wreak havoc in determining context, identifying properties, and discovering the truth. Substantial* and perhaps even intellectually fatal mistakes are sure to follow. This impediment defeats the would-be scholar even before he begins and instills a frustration and disheartedness that careful teaching and practice would have eliminated or kept from happening from the beginning. Little could be more important to the textual student and teacher alike.

Until next week.

John

* Case-in-point: One will need to delve into the connection between substance and substantial to understand how and why "Substantial" was chosen to convey the intended meaning of the sentence. I would encourage the reader to use this as a starting point of discovery to a better understanding of this topic.

The Subtle Artifice of the Wheelwright: Eleventh Week

 

The word of interest this week is “dishing.” If one were to suppose that the term means to produce a dished shape, that would but a part of the story. Johnson gives this definition, “Concave; a cant term among artificers.” There are certainly two words in the definition that are not likely to be in the common vocabulary of most people. “Cant” and “artificer” are words likely strange to most contemporary ears but certainly less so in Johnson’s day. Considering the possible usages for “cant” given by Johnson, and the context of the entry for “dish,” the meaning is language specific to a particular profession or trade. “Artificers” means, again according to Johnson and in the given context, those who make things – especially tradesmen or artists. “A cant term among artificers” then is a term specific to a given trade and used by its workers.

Interestingly, Johnson’s example for “dishing” comes from Mortimer’s 1708 practical treatise, The Whole Art of Husbandry; Or, The Way of Managing and Improving of Land, page 280. Here Mortimer describes the advantages of having a wagon or cart wheel concave from the rim to the hub on the outside of the wheel. This, of course causes the inside of the wheel to be convex from the hub to the rim. Mortimer suggests that the concave cross-section of the wheel (toward the outside) is helpful in strengthening the wheel when it invariably falls into uneven areas or holes as it turns. The movement on such occasions, according to the author, is toward the outside of the wheel. This pushes the hub toward the outside, in turn pushing the spokes against the fellies which are restrained by the iron rim encircling the outside of the wheel. This directional movement to the outside tends to tighten the components of the wheel rather than loosen them because it has the effect of increasing the diameter of the wooden wheel against the inside of the iron rim.

 

The drawing above is from James Burgess’ 1881 book, A Practical Treatise On Coach-Building Historical and Descriptive, page 37. The “dishing” of the wheels is seen if one observes the angle of the spokes relative to the hub when looking at the cross-section.

The shape and working properties of wagon, carriage, and cart wheels would have been rather ubiquitous in the eighteenth century, as are car wheels and their working properties are rather ho-hum today. Wagons, carriages, carts, and similar conveyances were the only forms of wheeled transportation in Johnson’s day. Far from being crude and poorly designed, the art of the wheelwright (an artificer of wheels) was highly and subtly engineered to marry the greatest strengths of wood and iron to produce objects graceful, strong, long-lasting, and terrifically utilitarian.

Johnson’s little entry for “dishing” bespeaks of the some of the best eighteenth-century design and craftsmanship. The word “artificers” nicely captures the “art” of the wheelwright – whose work seems a mystery to the ignorant but radiates its genius in useful simplicity.

Below is another drawing from Burgess, page 57, that shows the parts of a wheel. The term “nave” identifies the same part which is called a “hub” in the text of the post.

 

I am providing links on the right to both books mentioned, for those who wish to consult the original sources.

Until next week.

John

The Long Form "s" and a Difference With a Signification: Tenth Week

 

This week I would like to touch upon a subject yet unmentioned in this blog, though it is a matter obviously noticeable when reading Johnson’s dictionary. The matter to be considered is what the uninitiated might consider just an old printing style, irrelevant today. That, however, would not be the case. The long “s” found in Johnson was typical typography of the eighteenth-century. Please consider this image from the dictionary: 

The letters that appear to be an “f” in the red boxes are actually different forms of the long “s.” They differ from an “f” in that they either do not have a crossbar at all or only a half crossbar. Once this is known it is not difficult to see the words with “s” letters, though practice is required to become proficient with the mental substitution. Applying the substitution, we have: “n.s.,” “dissent,” “disagrees,” and “disagreement.” One will quickly discern that the long “s” was not used at the end of words, abbreviations in Johnson were excluded. The form was used at the beginning of words and anywhere before the last letter.

One may ask why eighteenth-century printers used such a form. The Printer in the Eighteenth-Century Williamsburg, by The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, relates that the form originated with early German printers – remember movable type was established in the West by the German, Johann Gutenberg, in the mid-fifteenth century. In trying to emulate hand-written script, the printers developed the flowing style of the long “s.” Later, English printers adopted the same form, and the long “s” became a standard part of eighteenth-century English and American typography. The form was popular until about 1800. Two very well know texts that used the long “s” are the 1611 King Janes Version Bible and the Declaration of Independence. Simply knowing how to read the long “s” form in the documents makes them less intimidating. This in turn brings one closer to the time and context of such great texts, increasing appreciation for and understanding of the labors and scholarly insights of those who wrote them.

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Of a different note, but of a similar consequence, is a brief comparison between Johnson’s lexicography and that of a modern dictionary. Our test word is “discord,” and Johnson allows this of the word: 

1.      Disagreement; opposition; mutual anger; reciprocal oppugnancy.

2.      Difference, or contrariety of qualities. 

A more modern dictionary, The Pocket Oxford Dictionary from 1935, gives this definition: 

1.      Holding of opposed views, strife; harsh noise, clashing sounds, want of harmony between notes sounding together.

2.      Be at variance (with). 

At first blush, the two offerings seem to be practically identical. The substance is the same, but the difference is in the details. When Johnson offers “mutual anger,” “reciprocal oppugnancy,” and “contrariety of qualities” the words “mutual,” “reciprocal,” and “contrariety” emphasize the shared conflict inherent in “discord.” There could hardly be “discord” if only one person or one thing were involved. The Oxford definition does not highlight this quality, missing the essence of the word. Being able to capture the word’s essence, while couching the nuance in an accurate definition, is the quality that sets great dictionaries apart from those of lesser quality. 

Until next week.

John

From Disco to Disciple : Ninth Week

My chosen word for this week is “disciple.” Johnson defines it this way, “A scholar; one that professes to receive instructions from another.” The etymological trail of the word is interesting, but Johnson gives us only the first step. He states that “disciple” comes from the Latin word discipulus. Upon consulting the Lewis and Short lexicon, A Latin Dictionary, one finds discipulus defined as “a learner, scholar, pupil, disciple.” Johnson and Lewis and Short use very similar definitions. However, Lewis and Short offer a longer trail to follow, deepening our understanding. This is accomplished through the etymology.

The Latin dictionary writes that discipulus is formed from disco and “the root of puer, pupilla.” Thus far, the train of words leading to “disciple” are: discipulus, disco, and the root of puer or pupilla. Should any be imagining a young John Travolta and wondering if disco has anything to do with the clipped English word spelled the same way: Indeed, it does not! As it happens, the English noun “disco” is a shortened form of the French loan word discothéque, which carries the general meaning of a place were recorded music is played for dancing.

What then does disco mean in Latin? Lewis and Short give this usage: “to learn, to learn to know, to become acquainted with, etc.” This dovetails nicely with one part of disciple – the aspect of learning. However, the learning subject remains, being found in the other two words forming the base for discipulus. These can be considered as a unit. Puer has the general meaning of “child,” and pupilla the meaning of “orphan” or “ward.” Taken together, the result is one, typically a youth, who is under the authority and responsibility of another.  In sum, disco, puer, and pupilla describe a learner under the responsibility of a teacher. This combination equates exactly with discipulus and in turn, disciple – the learning follower and devotee.   

The path from Latin discipulus to English “disciple” might very simply be said to begin with discipulus, be taken into French as disciple, and end by being incorporated without alteration of spelling into English as “disciple.” This, of course, is a gross oversimplification of a process involving multiple generations of time and miles necessary for its development.

Simple it may be, but the idea is the basis for proving the reasoning behind the language. Anyone can make up words and pronounce their designated meanings. Is that language? I say no. Language has to have logic behind it. There is more to what we speak and write than mere tradition. Without reason, a language can only be subjective and, when considered critically, must be subject to changes based on the whims of the user. One of the foundational pillars of communication is its capacity for consistent repetition among its users. The lack of repetitive ability is a source of division. One of the great historical divisions between ethnic groups is the barrier of uncommunicable language.

One can hardly think of a more important subject among human beings than communication. Imagine what sort of existence human beings would have if they could not communicate with one another. I dare say, human survival as a whole depends on language of some sort. What is more, societal advancement beyond rudimentary survival requires a precisely reasoned language capable of subtle expression and flexible enough to expand with the inventive and poetic minds of mankind. Casting away or neglecting the importance of human communication is to disregard a basic and beautiful part of what it means to be human. The antidote begins by recognizing the importance and value of understanding how our language came to us.

Until next week.

John

I have added a link to the Lewis and Short Latin dictionary from Internet Archive. You can find it in the links area on the right side of the page. Enjoy!

From Disasters to Candy, A Different World in the Eighteenth Century : Eighth Week

One interesting word this week is “disaster” used as a verb. Johnson says the verb “disaster” comes from its noun form and has two usages: “To blast by the stroke of an unfavorable star,” and, “To afflict; to mischief.” The noun form “disaster” has the same usages as the verb, just tailored to the substantive use.

The first usage is obviously connected to astrology for it considers times of ill-favor to be the work of an angry star or planet. The second usage is how it is commonly considered – a time of calamity, often as the result of natural forces, such as hurricanes or floods. What seems the most unfamiliar use of “disaster” is as a verb – an action done to its object. The Oxford English Dictionary gives several examples of historical use of “disaster” as a verb. A line from M. Cutler’s 1778 journal is apt, “The French fleet was so disastered they could by no means afford us assistance.” The meaning is easy to ascertain, even without more context. The French fleet was so damaged or afflicted by some sort of crisis that it did not have the capacity to give aid to others on the sea. To modern ears it might seem humorous to her a man say, “I’m disastered,” rather than, “I’m ruined.” Though the meanings are the same, the one is common and the other uncommon.

Another interesting word from this week is “disbud.” Johnson gives, “With gardeners” as its source – hardly a strong or convincing etymology. The meaning given is, “To take away the branches or sprigs newly put forth, that are ill placed.” Johnson cites this as coming from a dictionary and is labelled with the “Dict.” designation. Johnson used this notation when he did not have a quotation to prove its literary use. Today one would likely say or write that they had pruned the plant in question to secure its best possible growth.

The formation of “disbud” seems to the simple annexation of the negative prefix “dis” to the object removed, with a literal meaning of “no bud.” The two entries before “disbud” show similar joining characteristics, “disbench” and “disbranch.” The first word means to remove from a seat and the second to remove a branch. Again, the negative prefix is simply added to the object of removal.

Yet another “dis” word of interest is “discandy.” Johnson says this means, “To dissolve; to melt” and is the combination of “dis” and “candy.” Of the verb “candy,” Johnson writes that its basic meaning is “To conserve with sugar” or “To form into congelations.” “Congelations” refers to that which is turned into a solid. Thus, Johnson says to “discandy” is “to melt.”

Sadly, for all those lovers of sweets who may be perusing Johnson, there is no noun sense of “candy” referring to hard or chocolate sweets modern readers associate with candy. Because Johnson does not include “candy” as it is normally thought of does not mean that candy did not exist in his day. However, cane sugar was an expensive commodity in the eighteenth century and not usually found in common American homes or only in small amounts and reserved for special occasions. Other types of sweeteners could be found like honey or maple syrup – sugars more directly related to the farms and woodlands of America. How different the eighteenth century was compared to contemporary times, even with an item as ubiquitous as candy.

Until next time.

John

English in the Hands of the Barbarous - Probably Not What You are Expecting: Seventh Week

 

This week “disannul” is my word of choice. Not for its meaning so much as Johnson’s comments about the word. The lexicographer states that the word comes from adding “dis” to “annul.” The prefix is used to indicate a “negative signification” according to Johnson. Even today, “dis” is a very commonly used prefix, in such words as: “disarm” or “disjoin,” which words Johnson also cites. Given the prefix’s well-known usage, it is easy to understand that to “disannul” would be to not annul, but Johnson warns us that it was not so used. He offers several quotations using “disannul” to indicate what “annul” means. Because of this redundancy, Johnson laments that those using “disannul” do so without, “… knowing the meaning of the word annul.” He then passes sentence on the word and its users by declaring, “It ought therefore to be rejected as ungrammatical and barbarous.” “Disannul” then is cast away as an ignorant barbarism, unworthy of use.

This is akin to a double negative, such as, “I don’t have nothing.” This is actually saying, “I do not have no thing,” awkward and equal to saying one does have a thing – the opposite of the original intent of the speaker. This is why Johnson says using “disannul” is “barbarous.” This use is nicely explicated by the first entry for “barbarism,” “A form of speech contrary to the purity and exactness of any language.” The author is stating that “disannul” is an impure form of English.

Some may be initially put off by Johnson’s use of “barbarous,” thinking he is using the word as it is commonly – to indicate monstrous, uncivilized or greatly cruel behavior. Here it is not the case, though his dictionary does give those possible usages. Johnson is actually harkening back to the Greek word βάρβαρος (barbaros). To the ancient Greeks, this word had the basic descriptive meaning of any person unacquainted with the Greek language or Greek culture – a non-Hellenist. The Romans, great Hellenists in their own right, borrowed from the Greeks in their word barbarous: indicating one not Greek or Roman – a foreigner. From Latin into French, the barbarous made its way into English, with meanings close to its Greek and Latin progenitors. The sticking point is how “barbarian” or “barbarous” is typically considered in modern usage.

This last notion is worthy of consideration as an argument for the usefulness to humanity of greater awareness of words and their meanings. As mankind’s greatest and most common form of communication, words spoken and written would seem to be something greatly cherished and nourished. Sadly, in this age of texting, emojis and tiny soundbites, deep and nuanced word meanings are given short shrift (by the way, the journey from to give shrift to short shrift is a microcosm of philological nuance worth investigating). Messages measured in seconds do not lend themselves to serious lexical consideration or the introspection of the sender. If the height of one’s literary aspirations does not exceed popular social media formats, the culture that begets such a minimized regard for human communication is creating an environment highly conducive to language corruption at best or at worst the death of the artisanry of wordcraft. This author fears such a society could not summon to the page the elevated prose of the King James Bible or the Declaration of Independence – words that changed the history of mankind for all time.

Until next time.

John

Vipers and Electric Lights -- Out of the Darkness and Into the Light: Sixth Week

My word for this week is “dipsas.” Johnson defines this as a Latin word, from the Greek διψαν (dipsan), meaning: “A serpent, whose bite produces the sensation of unquenchable thirst.” We might more properly state that “dipsas” is a Latin word brought directly into English, both spellings being identical. Further, a correction to the etymology should be noted: the Greek word from which the Latin derives is διψάς (dipsas), therefore, the Latin is an obvious transliteration of the Greek. Moreover, the Greek likely comes from διψάω (dipsaō) meaning: thirst, thirsty or parched; rather than διψαν (dipsan) as Johnson explains. On to history and context.

 

Johnson's attributive quote is from Milton's Paradise Lost. Concerning the fall of Satan and his angels, Milton wrote:

                                          . . . thick swarming now

    With complicated monsters head and tail,

    Scorpion and asp, and amphisbaena dire

    Cerastes horned, hydrus, and ellops drear,

    And dipsas . . . (Book X, lines 22-26; emphasis, mine)

It is quite interesting how this passage from Milton shadows a verse from the Hebrew Bible at Deuteronomy chapter eight verse fifteen. Here Moses is recounting the earlier event chronicled in the Book of Numbers, chapter twenty-one verses five and six. The Numbers account tells how the Israelites murmured against God, yet again, and God sent biting serpents among them and many died for their sins. The verse from Deuteronomy speaks of, “fiery (biting) serpents,” “scorpions,” and “drought.” Israel wandered about in the wilderness suffering many times because they refused to trust and obey God. They were in a place of suffering because of their sins. Milton paints a similar scene with Satan and his angels in a place of dire suffering because of their sins. Milton writes of the, “scorpion,” “asp” and “dipsas” among several other “dire” and “drear” things, describing the place into which Satan fell. Sin, Satan, sinners and suffering paint the passages from both Moses and Milton. 

Bringing additional weight to the comparison between Milton's and Moses' passages is that Jerome’s Vulgate uses the Latin “dipsas” at Deuteronomy chapter eight verse fifteen for the Septuagint’s Greek word δίψα (dipsa) and the original Hebrew word צמּאון (tsimmâ'ôn) and translated as “drought” in the King James or Authorized Version. The idea is first described by the Hebrew then the Greek translation. From the Greek comes the Latin as a transliteration which is then brought letter by letter into the English of Milton and subsequently recorded and defined by Johnson. The context of the words begins with a parched land, a land thirsty for the dew of heaven which begot a descriptive name for a snake that leaves the victims of its venom with an insatiable thirst. This progression outlines the history of word development: start with the common and well understood (dry land) then use the known to describe and name the lesser known by the use and value of association (dipsas, Coluber Viperas). 

So, what have we accomplished by this post? We have engaged in a very detail limited and space constrained word study. Despite the brevity of the work, it is still useful as an introduction – an introduction I hope will whet the reader’s intellectual curiosity of how words work across an interconnected web of differing times, locales and purposes.

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On a slightly different note, some may find the circumstances in which I began writing this blog post interesting – as they were quite Johnsonian. As Johnson surely did all the work of his lifetime without the aid of electric lights, so I began my work on this post. Johnson’s dearth of electricity was a product of his times, mine was the consequence of necessary repairs made to the meterbase and riser on my house. The local electric provider, FPL, had to shut off the power to my house and disconnect the lines running from the electric pole to the parts needing repair. The process began at nine o’clock this morning and power was finally restored about twelve hours later. Luckily, I did not have to spend the entire day without electricity – I was able to accomplish some of my work at a local library branch. Deprivation properly considered leads to gratitude, which is always a worthy lesson to learn.

Until next time. 

John

NOTE: Greek and Hebrew transliterations are placed parenthetically after the original words.

Eighteenth Century "Dinner" and Rural Arkansas: Fifth Week

The word I have chosen for this week is “dinner.” Johnson defines “dinner” as: “The chief meal; the meal eaten about the middle of the day.” This is undoubtedly a common American word  in the twenty-first century. However, modern use can be different, referring to the evening meal. This term is also often used in reference to elaborate occasions of gathering to share a meal – such as a “state dinner.” At such gatherings the emphasis is on who attends over what is offered to eat.

“Dinner” has adopted a formal sense over what is often called “lunch.” Johnson includes “lunch” in his dictionary, but it carries a different use than is contemporary, “As much food as one’s hand can hold.” This of course immediately brings to mind that ubiquitous handheld article of repast: the sandwich. Was it used in Johnson’s day? “Sandwich” is not included in Johnson's 1755 edition. The OED says that it seems to have come into use shortly before 1770, as explained by Grosley in connection with the fourth Earl of Sandwich. The earliest quotation offered by the OED is from 1762 – seven years after the edition of Johnson we are examining. It seems reasonable, therefore, that what Johnson had in mind when he defined “lunch” was not today’s common noontime meal.

Also of interest is a somewhat parochial use from my hometown area in Northeast Arkansas. During my formative years, I hardy ever heard the term “lunch” being used by adults. The term they used was “dinner,” when they were speaking of the noontime meal. “Ya’ll ready t’ go t’ dinner?” or, “Yowt, I’m goin’ t’ dinner” were very common phrases. “Supper” was the term used for the evening meal enjoyed after returning home at the end of the workday. “Lunch” of course was the preferred term in the public schools, as one might guess, but not among the older rural population. It is interesting that the older English of Johnson was the prevailing use among the older generations. Though space does not allow extensive examples to be given, other old English word usages were still in common use in that rural setting. One that readily comes to mind is “pert.” Johnson defines this in part as: “Lively; brisk; smart.” It is in this way that it was used in rural Arkansas. It was pronounced “peert” with an emphasis on the long “ee” sound; such as, “How ya’ feelin’?” “Oh … pretty pert.” I recall, as a boy, having some difficulty understanding what this term meant. Context eventually revealed that the speaker was commenting on the fact that they were feeling well.

It might be easy to pass off such word usage as hopelessly backward or ignorant. However, when one understands the historical precedent behind it; it becomes easier to appreciate that historical English speech is not dead but rather alive in rural America. Homespun ways and country life have been an insulating barrier that have preserved old ways of speaking long passed from the scene among the more modern and cultivated.

Until next time.

John

Digressions on "Digestion": Fourth Week

An interesting word from this week is “digestion.” A common word to modern ears, digestion is popularly understood to be the breaking down of food in the stomach and intestines for processing by the body, for the purpose of nutrition. It was known this way in Johnson’s day, too, and so reflected in his dictionary. Interestingly, “concoct” was used in a nearly identical way in the period. This closely reflected its Latin base: concŏquo, meaning, according to Cassell’s, “to boil or cook thoroughly or together.” Though today, one does not normally hear a person say he is concocting his dinner to indicate digestion, the idea of reducing matter in the stomach as digestion is certainly apt and rather illustrative. 

Before continuing with the usages of “digestion,” an important point to emphasize is Johnson’s reliance on and closeness to Latin. By far, the majority of the words that I have been proofing lately have a Latin etymological base (especially after leaving words beginning with the Greek preposition δια, such as diameter). The literary quotes Johnson uses strongly suggest how closely tied to Latin the writers of old were. This is not unexpected when one realizes how commonly Latin was used in the English-speaking world, and not just by ecclesiastics, from medieval times through the eighteenth and into the nineteenth centuries. It is only in more modern times that Latin has been relegated to technical scientific terminology and esoteric studies in the dusty halls of academe. 

Continuing with “digestion,” the next usage Johnson gives is: “The preparation of matter by chemical heat.” Perhaps humorous to contemporary ears is Johnson’s use of a quote here from Bacon’s Natural History that invokes alchemy as an example of digestion, “We conceive, indeed, that a perfect good concoction, or digestion, or maturation of some metals, will produce gold.” Alchemy, now known to be a futile pursuit, was considered sound scientific practice in ages past – even a scientific mind as eminent as Newton’s strenuously sought a way to produce gold by chemical means. Again, it is uncommon to hear “digestion” used to mean preparation by chemical heat, thus it is labelled “Obsolete” by the OED. 

The next use of “digestion” is, “Reduction to a plan; the act of methodizing; the maturation of a scheme.” The idea here is taking divergent but interconnected parts and synthesizing them into a streamlined whole. Has the reader ever wondered why a very popular multivolume set of condensed books are called Reader’s Digest? Reducing a book’s contents to its most salient points can be termed “digestion.” Historically important, the ancient body of Roman jurisprudence codified into book-form was titled the Digest. 

The last use of “digestion” in Johnson’s Dictionary is of a “wound or sore” producing “matter.” “Matter” regards suppuration or the formation of pus. This process was considered a healthy maturing of a wound toward healing. It is now known that suppuration is caused by infection, which is best avoided from the beginning and is a detriment rather than a help. Wounds made and kept clean heal the quickest and are least likely to form potentially lethal complications. Medical knowledge and understanding, however, was not this advanced in Johnson’s day. Nor would it be for nearly two hundred years. Such ignorance has had profound historical consequences. 

President Washington’s life was almost certainly shortened by the “blood-letting” thought so necessary in 1799. Though eighty-two years had elapsed since Washington’s death, medical practices were still woefully in the dark; causing another presidential death. President James A. Garfield was shot by an assassin on July 2, 1881. Garfield suffered for weeks because his doctors could not find or remove the bullet lodged in his body – x-ray was unknown in his day. Not only were the doctors unable to remove the bullet, but they also lacked a proper knowledge of germs and the causes of infection. All of these shortcomings resulted in the President’s untimely death on September 19, 1881.

Until next time.

John

Context and Connections: Third Week

For this week's post I would like to explore a process, more than an individual word. And an important process it is. The basic investigation to determine context when studying a text is fundamental. A useful adage in this regard is that any text taken out of context becomes a mere pretext -- a groundless assertion. Worthy historical research cannot be accomplished without finding, then submitting to the boundaries of context. This brief article will be an exercise of just such an excursion.

Let us begin with Johnson's entry: "dier." The lexicographer designates this as a noun meaning "One who follows the trade of dying; one who dies cloaths." Johnson offers two quotes using the word. The last is attributed to "Arbuthnot on Coins" and it is here that our work begins. The quotation is this: "There were some of very low rank and professions, who acquired great estates: coblers, diers, and shoemakers gave publick shows to the people" (original spelling and punctuation retained).

It is easy to assume Arbuthnot is writing of times contemporary to Johnson's dictionary (1755). Is Arbuthnot talking about Johnson's time or his own or neither? Certainly there were "coblers, diers and shoemakers" in Johnson's day. This fact makes it very easy to fall into the trap of our earlier assumption. How can we avoid this trap? How can we act rationally? To find the answers we must dig deeper.

The first step of the quest is to find an original text of Arbuthnot's work on coins. Since one's local public library is not likely to hold many volumes from 1755 or earlier, another depository will need to be consulted. The place I like to turn is Internet Archive. Here I found John Arbuthnot's book: Tables of Ancient Coins, Weights and Measures, Explain'd and Exemplify'd In Several Dissertations; published 1727. To find the passage quoted by Johnson, I used the text search function of the website. I chose a word from the quote that seemed unique. My first search with "cobler" was unsuccessful. I moved on to "diers" and "shoemakers." These all failed. I finally tried "rank" which worked. On page 118, I found my quote. A little reading revealed that Arbuthnot was speaking of the tradesmen of ancient Rome. He elucidates the sort of tradesman he has in mind, "Vatinius a shoemaker's apprentice gave to Nero himself a famous spectacle of gladiators at Beneventum, of whom Tacitus, saith . . ." "Nero," "gladiators" and "Tacitus" are context pointers that clearly set the time and place as Rome in the reign of Nero (54 to 68 AD).

 

The "coblers, diers and shoemakers" were not of London or of some other town in England, but hundreds of miles away and many centuries removed from Arbuthnot's day. The quote taken out of the context built by the author could easily have been misconstrued to say the text was describing England in the eighteenth century.

One may ask what difference there is between a dier of the first century and one of the eighteenth. Time makes the biggest difference. Place matters and material differences matter. The differences are as abrupt and significant as the differences between first century Rome and eighteenth century England. The sharp contrasts between ancient Rome and Johnson's England highlight how wrong one could be by exploring Johnson's quote without first determining its original context.

 

Understanding context helps us grasp Johnson's intent, the deeper meaning of his use of the quote and how that relates to the word; its history and use. The long span of centuries contemplated by the dictionary entry shows that the practice of dyeing cloth is an old one, indeed. The life of the word’s concept is long and rich. But more importantly, Johnson is making a connection between the dier of Rome and the dier of England. If there were no basic correlations amidst their many differences, using the quote would have been useless to Johnson's audience. The context reveals a connection, albeit a basic and foundational one, between the English of Johnson's day the Roman citizen of old. Revealing and explaining such connections are the very essence of teaching and studying history. That is history's greatest power. It is by the pathway of connections made manifest that history teaches us its lessons and makes us wiser today.

Until next time.

John

I put a link to Arbuthnot's book in the list to the right.

Into the Work: Second Week

As the title explains, the second week of work on the Johnson's Dictionary Online Project has been time to begin the work in earnest. I have been able to concentrate proofing rather than preparatory tasks, such as consumed the beginning days -- days of application not preparation.

This puts me in mind of two words I inspected this week: "dial-plate" and "dialist." Contemporary readers would likely consider these words odd indeed. To the eighteenth century Englishman, "dial-plates" and "dialist[s]" were part of the times' greatest scientific and technological advances. By this, I make reference to John Harrison, a contemporary of Johnson, and his marine chronometers. Space constraints prevent a thorough history of these time-keeping marvels but suffice it to say that they were of immense importance in their day and to ours. Without Harrison's contribution to time-keeping, mankind would still be floundering in the oceans to discover their longitude at sea. Latitude is relatively easy to determine at sea with simple instruments and a seaman's knowledge. Not so with longitude. Before satellites and GPS, being able to maintain accurate time aboard ship was absolutely critical in finding one's longitude. By accurately maintaining the local time of the ship's launch port and the local time, while aboard ship, the two times can be used to calculate longitude. Accurate time-keeping is taken for granted today, but in Johnson's day accurately setting and keeping of time was practically unknown.

One may well ask what longitude and chronometers have to do with the two words cited earlier. They are alike in that the earlier words are horological terms -- clockmaking words. Johnson writes that a "dial-plate" is, "That on which hours or lines are marked." In current terms -- a clock-face. Though today, the idea of a clock-face with hour markings has rather sadly become as foreign to modern imaginations as "dial-plate" and "dialist" are. As some have probably already guessed, a "dialist" is one who makes dials (particularly sundials). A "dial-plate" maker then would be a kind or form of "dialist."

International shipping and navigation on the world's oceans is such an integral part of modern life and the supplying the commodities that sustain life, little thought is given to what efforts were made and even lives lost to make safe the seas. In like manner, accurate clocks (every smartphone has one or more) are taken for granted, though for thousands of years before our extremely limited modern era, most people considered time in broad terms; often limited to sunrising, noontide and sunsetting. 

Yet again, lexicography and history have joined hands to lend us a perspective that is interesting and informative, but more importantly engenders further reasons to be grateful to our forbears. Forbears that prepared and applied their knowledge and time, from whom we enjoy so many blessings today.

For those who would like to know more about the Harrison timekeepers and early chronometers, I have added a link on the right to the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London. I also recommend Dava Sobel's excellent small volume Longitude as a good place to begin exploring the world of accurate clockmaking. 

Until next time.

John

Beginnings: First Week

This has been the beginning of our individual assignments for the Johnson's Dictionary Online Project. I have been assigned as a proofreader. My work consists of comparing database entries with a scanned copy of an original 1755 edition of the dictionary. If any errors are found in the online entry the error is noted and described on the project's shared ".xlsx" file. All of the proofreading participants share the same Google file that is updated in real time as entries are checked and errors noted. It is easy to tell who is working at the same time you are by noting whose names are shown at the top of the Google page. The shared format reinforces the community spirit and team effort being brought to the project.

My entries started with "deuce." This English word comes from the French "deux." The English and the French have the same usage: "two." However, English usage also includes "devil" which the French does not. When used to indicate "devil" or "the devil," Johnson gives the alternate spelling "deuse" which is used only for this meaning. The Oxford English Dictionary offers that "deuce," meaning "devil," may have come from the German "daus" or Low German "duus." To add more complexity to this little word with a small meaning, the Old French word for two was spelled "deus." Since the French words were not used to signify "devil," the German etymology seems the more compelling. This example shows that even little words with limited usages can have complex and often convoluted histories.

At this juncture it might be useful to offer a fine adage I learned long ago: "Dictionaries give possible usages, context gives meanings." Our word "deuce" is an apt example. When "deuce" is found in a reading one must determine how it is used and thus, its meaning. Is it used to indicate "two" or "devil?" Reason indicates that it will not be both. Context must be ascertained to discover the meaning. Practice will make this process quite automatic; it is an ability well worth developing.

Another interesting word from this week is "Deuteronomy." This word is certainly not new to those familiar with the English translations of the Hebrew Old Testament. One might suppose that this word is the Hebrew title of the fifth book of the Bible. It is not. "Deuteronomy" comes from the Septuagint, the third century B.C. Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible. Johnson correctly states that the word is a compound of the Greek root δεύτερος, meaning second and νόμος, meaning law. The Greek compound, δευτερονόμιον is found at Deu. 17:18. Some have taken this to mean a "second law," another law -- which is even suggested by Johnson's definition. The text of the book, however, is not the giving of a separate law, but a reiteration of that already given. Thus, the English translation follows the original Hebrew and uses "copy" rather than second (cf. Joshua 8:32). Once more, context (coupled with historical Hebrew usage) is everything.

I suppose it might fairly be said that the history of words is the history of everything, for how do we communicate the past but through words? Lexicography is a foundational subject which opens many doors of knowledge and understanding.

Until next time.

John

Introductions

My name is John Rose and I am an online History major at the University of Central Florida. I am married and live in Naples, FL. I hope to graduate in 2022. Two professions occupy my time outside of college: preaching for the Churches of Christ and teaching/guest teaching at a local high school. Though they may seem unrelated, preaching, history and lexicography are all quite related. A successful preacher must be well versed in history of all sorts and his stock in trade is words. This internship with the dictionary project fits very nicely into my chosen fields of endeavor.

A particular research interest of mine is lexicography -- mainly of the English language but also Koine Greek and to lesser degrees, Hebrew and Latin. Dictionaries have been an interest of mine since early childhood. I used to sit and read an old 1960's set of World Book dictionaries when I was in elementary school. Now my interest has matured to the peerless work of English lexicography: the Oxford English Dictionary (OED). Any word lover would be hard put not to drool over the set's 20,000 pages of dictionary delights. There is an apt connection between Johnson's work and the OED in the use of quotations to show context. This use set apart Johnson's work in the eighteenth century as it has subsequently with the OED. 

Johnson's dictionary also has a particular connection to preaching in that the current commonly used edition of the King James Version is from 1769 which makes it a contemporary of Johnson's work. It is this contemporaneous connection that has lead me to consult Johnson at various times when examining the King James Version's eighteenth century text. Needless to say, one must investigate word usage congruent to the time in which a given text was written. Word usages can change over time!   

My initial reaction to hearing of this project was excitement and hope. I was excited to find a work so near to my heart and hoped that it might open avenues to further explorations of a similar sort that may prove useful for future employment. Thorough lexicographic research seems a rather ideal form of employment. I can say little about the project itself other than its obvious purpose and subject matter since the first week of the semester has been used mainly for introductions and completion of various necessary forms. However, the project does offer two important things to the student: a thorough introduction to the dictionary by way of detailed scrutiny and experience converting written text into digital database format. The one having obvious use in our digital age and the other useful for learning textual context, a necessity for every student of history and language. 

I look forward to working with Dr. Young, Dr. French and the others students on the team and hope for a broadly successful semester for all from which we will garner a greater appreciation for our lingua franca  and those like Johnson who have labored to make English a more accessible and understood tongue.

Until next time.

John