An inquiry into the pedigree of 'dunce' lays open to us an important

page in the intellectual history of Europe. Certain theologians in the

Middle Ages were termed Schoolmen; having been formed and trained in

the cloister and cathedral _schools_ which Charlemagne and his

immediate successors had founded. These were men not to be lightly

spoken of, as they often are by those who never read a line of their

works, and have not a thousandth part of their wit; who moreover little

guess how many of the most familiar words which they employ, or

misemploy, have descended to them from these. 'Real,' 'virtual,'

'entity,' 'nonentity,' 'equivocation,' 'objective,' 'subjective,' with

many more unknown to classical Latin, but now almost necessities to us,

were first coined by the Schoolmen; and, passing over from them into

the speech of others more or less interested in their speculations,

have gradually filtered through the successive strata of society, till

now some of them have reached to quite the lowest. At the Revival of

Learning, however, their works fell out of favour: they were not

written in classical Latin: the forms into which their speculations

were thrown were often unattractive; it was mainly in their authority

that the Roman Church found support for her perilled dogmas. On all

these accounts it was esteemed a mark of intellectual progress to have

broken with them, and thrown off their yoke. Some, however, still clung

to these Schoolmen, and to one in particular, John _Duns_ Scotus, the

most illustrious teacher of the Franciscan Order. Thus it came to pass

that many times an adherent of the old learning would seek to

strengthen his position by an appeal to its famous doctor, familiarly

called Duns; while those of the new learning would contemptuously

rejoin, 'Oh, you are a _Dunsman_' or more briefly, 'You are a _Duns_,'

--or, 'This is a piece of _duncery_'; and inasmuch as the new learning

was ever enlisting more and more of the genius and scholarship of the

age on its side, the title became more and more a term of scorn.

'Remember ye not,' says Tyndal, 'how within this thirty years and far

less, the old barking curs, _Dunce's_ disciples, and like draff called

Scotists, the children of darkness, raged in every pulpit against Greek,

Latin, and Hebrew?' And thus from that conflict long ago extinct

between the old and the new learning, that strife between the medieval

and the modern theology, we inherit 'dunce' and 'duncery.' The lot of

Duns, it must be confessed, has been a hard one, who, whatever his

merits as a teacher of Christian truth, was assuredly one of the

keenest and most subtle-witted of men. He, the 'subtle Doctor' by pre-

eminence, for so his admirers called him, 'the wittiest of the school-

divines,' as Hooker does not scruple to style him, could scarcely have

anticipated, and did not at all deserve, that his name should be turned

into a by-word for invincible stupidity.

This is but one example of the singular fortune waiting upon words. We

have another of a parallel injustice, in the use which 'mammetry,' a

contraction of 'Mahometry,' obtained in our early English. Mahomedanism

being the most prominent form of false religion with which our

ancestors came in contact, 'mammetry' was used, up to and beyond the

Reformation, to designate first any false religion, and then the

worship of idols; idolatry being proper to, and a leading feature of,

most of the false religions of the world. Men did not pause to remember

that Mahomedanism is the great exception, being as it is a protest

against all idol-worship whatsoever; so that it was a signal injustice

to call an idol a 'mawmet' or a Mahomet, and idolatry 'mammetry.'

A misnomer such as this may remind us of the immense importance of

possessing such names for things as shall not involve or suggest an

error. We have already seen this in the province of the moral life; but

in other regions also it nearly concerns us. Resuming, as words do, the

past, shaping the future, how important it is that significant facts or

tendencies in the world's history should receive their right names. It

is a corrupting of the very springs and sources of knowledge, when we

bind up not a truth, but an error, in the very nomenclature which we

use. It is the putting of an obstacle in the way, which, however

imperceptibly, is yet ever at work, hindering any right apprehension of

the thing which has been thus erroneously noted.

Out of a sense of this, an eminent German scholar of the last century,

writing _On the Influence of Opinions on Language_, did not stop here,

nor make this the entire title of his book, but added another and

further clause--_and on the Influence of Language on Opinions_;

[Footnote: _Von dem Einfluss der Meinungen in die Sprache, und der

Sprache in die Meinungen_, von J, D. Michaëlis, Berlin, 1760.] the

matter which fulfils the promise of this latter clause constituting by

far the most interesting and original portion of his work: for while

the influence of opinions on words is so little called in question,

that the assertion of it sounds almost like a truism, this, on the

contrary, of words on opinions, would doubtless present itself as a

novelty to many. And yet it is an influence which has been powerfully

felt in every region of human knowledge, in science, in art, in morals,

in theology. The reactive energy of words, not merely on the passions

of men (for that of course), but on their opinions calmly and

deliberately formed, would furnish a very curious chapter in the

history of human knowledge and human ignorance.

Sometimes words with no fault of theirs, for they did not originally

involve any error, will yet draw some error in their train; and of that

error will afterwards prove the most effectual bulwark and shield. Let

me instance--the author just referred to supplies the example--the word

'crystal.' The strange notion concerning the origin of the thing,

current among the natural philosophers of antiquity, and which only two

centuries ago Sir Thomas Browne thought it worth while to place first

and foremost among the _Vulgar Errors_ that he undertook to refute, was

plainly traceable to a confusion occasioned by the name. Crystal, as

men supposed, was ice or snow which had undergone such a process of

induration as wholly and for ever to have lost its fluidity: [Footnote:

Augustine: Quid est crystallum? Nix est glacie durata per multos annos,

ita ut a sole vel igne facile dissolvi non possit. So too in Beaumont

and Fletcher's tragedy of _Valentinian_, a chaste matron is said to be

'cold as crystal _never to be thawed again_.'] and Pliny, backing up

one mistake by another, affirmed that it was only found in regions of

extreme cold. The fact is, that the Greek word for crystal originally

signified ice; but after a while was also imparted to that diaphanous

quartz which has so much the look of ice, and which alone _we_ call by

this name; and then in a little while it was taken for granted that the

two, having the same name, were in fact the same substance; and this

mistake it took ages to correct.

Natural history abounds in legends. In the word 'leopard' one of these

has been permanently bound up; the error, having first given birth to

the name, being afterwards itself maintained and propagated by it. The

leopard, as is well known, was not for the Greek and Latin zoologists a

species by itself, but a mongrel birth of the male panther or pard and

the lioness; and in 'leopard' or 'lion-pard' this fabled double descent

is expressed. [Footnote: This error lasted into modern times; thus

Fuller (_A Pisgah Sight of Palestine_, vol. i. p. 195): 'Leopards and

mules are properly no creatures.'] 'Cockatrice' embodies a somewhat

similar fable; the fable however in this case having been invented to

account for the name. [Footnote: See Wright, _The Bible Word Book_, s.

v. [The word _cockatrice_ is a corrupt form of Late Latin _cocodrillus_,

which again is a corruption of Latin _crocodilus_, Gr. [Greek:

krokodeilos], a crocodile.]]

It was Eichhorn who first suggested the calling of a certain group of

languages, which stand in a marked contradistinction to the Indo-

European or Aryan family, by the common name of 'Semitic.' A word which

should include all these was wanting, and this one was handy and has

made its fortune; at the same time implying, as 'Semitic' does, that

these are all languages spoken by races which are descended from Shem,

it is eminently calculated to mislead. There are non-Semitic races, the

Phoenicians for example, which have spoken a Semitic language; there

are Semitic races which have not spoken one. Against 'Indo-European'

the same objection may be urged; seeing that several languages are

European, that is, spoken within the limits of Europe, as the Maltese,

the Finnish, the Hungarian, the Basque, the Turkish, which lie

altogether outside of this group.

'Gothic' is plainly a misnomer, and has often proved a misleader as

well, when applied to a style of architecture which belongs not to one,

but to all the Germanic tribes; which, moreover, did not come into

existence till many centuries after any people called Goths had ceased

from the earth. Those, indeed, who first called this medieval

architecture 'Gothic,' had no intention of ascribing to the Goths the

first invention of it, however this language may seem now to bind up in

itself an assertion of the kind. 'Gothic' was at first a mere random

name of contempt. The Goths, with the Vandals, being the standing

representatives of the rude in manners and barbarous in taste, the

critics who would fain throw scorn on this architecture as compared

with that classical Italian which alone seemed worthy of their

admiration, [Footnote: The name, as the designation of a style of

architecture, came to us from Italy. Thus Fuller in his _Worthies_:

'Let the Italians deride our English and condemn them for _Gothish_

buildings.' See too a very curious expression of men's sentiments about

Gothic architecture as simply equivalent to barbarous, in Phillips's

_New World of Words_, 1706, s.v. 'Gothick.'] called it 'Gothic,'

meaning rude and barbarous thereby. We who recognize in this Gothic

architecture the most wondrous and consummate birth of genius in one

region of art, find it hard to believe that this was once a mere title

of slight and scorn, and sometimes wrongly assume a reference in the

word to the people among whom first it arose.

'Classical' and 'romantic,' names given to opposing schools of

literature and art, contain an absurd antithesis; and either say

nothing at all, or say something erroneous. 'Revival of Learning' is a

phrase only partially true when applied to that mighty intellectual

movement in Western Europe which marked the fifteenth century and the

beginning of the sixteenth. A revival there might be, and indeed there

was, of _Greek_ learning at that time; but there could not be properly

affirmed a revival of Latin, inasmuch as it had never been dead; or,

even as those who dissent from this statement must own, had revived

nearly two centuries before. 'Renaissance,' applied in France to the

new direction which art took about the age of Francis the First, is

another question-begging word. Very many would entirely deny that the

bringing back of an antique pagan spirit, and of pagan forms as the

utterance of this, into Christian art was a 'renaissance' or new birth

of it at all.

But inaccuracy in naming may draw after it more serious mischief in

regions more important. Nowhere is accuracy more vital than in words

having to do with the chief facts and objects of our faith; for such

words, as Coleridge has observed, are never inert, but constantly

exercise an immense reactive influence, whether men know it or not, on

such as use them, or often hear them used by others. The so-called

'Unitarians,' claiming by this name of theirs to be asserters of the

unity of the Godhead, claim that which belongs to us by far better

right than to them; which, indeed, belonging of fullest right to us,

does not properly belong to them at all. I should, therefore, without

any intention of offence, refuse the name to them; just as I should

decline, by calling those of the Roman Obedience 'Catholics,' to give

up the whole question at issue between them and us. So, also, were I

one of them, I should never, however convenient it might sometimes

prove, consent to call the great religious movement of Europe in the

sixteenth century the 'Reformation.' Such in _our_ esteem it was, and

in the deepest, truest sense; a shaping anew of things that were amiss

in the Church. But how any who esteem it a disastrous, and, on their

parts who brought it about, a most guilty schism, can consent to call

it by this name, has always surprised me.

Let me urge on you here the importance of seeking in every case to

acquaint yourselves with the circumstances under which any body of men

who have played an important part in history, above all in the history

of your own land, obtained the name by which they were afterwards

themselves willing to be known, or which was used for their designation

by others. This you may do as a matter of historical inquiry, and

keeping entirely aloof in spirit from the bitterness, the contempt, the

calumny, out of which very frequently these names were first imposed.

Whatever of scorn or wrong may have been at work in them who coined or

gave currency to the name, the name itself can never without serious

loss be neglected by any who would truly understand the moral

significance of the thing; for always something, oftentimes much, may

be learned from it. Learn, then, about each one of these names which

you meet in your studies, whether it was one that men gave to

themselves; or one imposed on them by others, but never recognized by

them; or one that, first imposed by others, was yet in course of time

admitted and allowed by themselves. We have examples in all these kinds.

Thus the 'Gnostics' call _themselves_ such; the name was of their own

devising, and declared that whereof they made their boast; it was the

same with the 'Cavaliers' of our Civil War. 'Quaker,' 'Puritan,'

'Roundhead,' were all, on the contrary, names devised by others, and

never accepted by those to whom they were attached. To the third class

'Whig' and 'Tory' belong. These were nicknames originally of bitterest

party hate, withdrawn from their earlier use, and fastened by two

political bodies in England each on the other, [Footnote: In North's

_Examen_. p. 321, is a very lively, though not a very impartial,

account of the rise of these names.] the 'Whig' being properly a

Scottish covenanter, [Footnote: [For a full account of the name see

Nares, and Todd's _Johnson_.]] the 'Tory' an Irish bog-trotting

freebooter; while yet these nicknames in tract of time so lost and let

go what was offensive about them, that in the end they were adopted by

the very parties themselves. Not otherwise the German 'Lutherans' were

originally so called by their antagonists. [Footnote: Dr. Eck, one of

the earliest who wrote against the Reformation, first called the

Reformed 'Lutherani.'] 'Methodist,' in like manner, was a title not

first taken by the followers of Wesley, but fastened on them by others,

while yet they have been subsequently willing, though with a certain

reserve, to accept and to be known by it. 'Momiers' or 'Mummers,' a

name in itself of far greater offence, has obtained in Switzerland

something of the same allowance. Exactly in the same way 'Capuchin' was

at first a jesting nickname, given by the gamins in the streets to that

reformed branch of the Franciscans which afterwards accepted it as

their proper designation. It was provoked by the peaked and pointed

hood ('cappuccio,' 'cappucino') which they wore. The story of the

'Gueux,' or 'Beggars,' of Holland, and how they appropriated their name,

is familiar, as I doubt not, to many. [Footnote: [See chapter on

Political Nicknames in D'Israeli's _Curiosities of Literature_.]]

A 'Premier' or 'Prime Minister,' though unknown to the law of England,

is at present one of the institutions of the country. The acknowledged

leadership of one member in the Government is a fact of only gradual

growth in our constitutional history, but one in which the nation has

entirely acquiesced,--nor is there anything invidious now in the title.

But in what spirit the Parliamentary Opposition, having coined the term,

applied it first to Sir Robert Walpole, is plain from some words of his

spoken in the House of Commons, Feb. 11, 1742: 'Having invested me with

a kind of mock dignity, and styled me a _Prime Minister_, they [the

Opposition] impute to me an unpardonable abuse of the chimerical

authority which they only created and conferred.'

Now of these titles some undoubtedly, like 'Capuchin' instanced just

now, stand in no very intimate connexion with those who bear them; and

such names, though seldom without their instruction, yet plainly are

not so instructive as others, in which the innermost heart of the thing

named so utters itself, that, having mastered the name, we have placed

ourselves at the central point, from whence best to master everything

besides. It is thus with 'Gnostic' and 'Gnosticism'; in the prominence

given to _gnôsis_ or knowledge, as opposed to faith, lies the key to

the whole system. The Greek Church has loved ever to style itself the

Holy 'Orthodox' Church, the Latin, the Holy 'Catholic' Church. Follow

up the thoughts which these words suggest. What a world of teaching

they contain; above all when brought into direct comparison and

opposition one with the other. How does all which is innermost in the

Greek and Roman mind unconsciously reveal itself here; the Greek Church

regarding as its chief blazon that its speculation is right, the Latin

that its empire is universal. Nor indeed is it merely the Greek and

Latin Churches which utter themselves here, but Greece and Rome in

their deepest distinctions, as these existed from their earliest times.

The key to the whole history, Pagan as well as Christian, of each is in

these words. We can understand how the one established a dominion in

the region of the mind which shall never be overthrown, the other

founded an empire in the world whose visible effects shall never be

done away. This is an illustrious example; but I am bold to affirm that,

in their degree, all parties, religious and political, are known by

names that will repay study; by names, to understand which will bring

us far to an understanding of their strength and their weakness, their

truth and their error, the idea and intention according to which they

wrought. Thus run over in thought a few of those which have risen up in

England. 'Puritans,' 'Fifth-Monarchy men,' 'Seekers,' 'Levellers,'

'Independents,' 'Friends,' 'Rationalists,' 'Latitudnarians,'

'Freethinkers,' these titles, with many more, have each its

significance; and would you get to the heart of things, and thoroughly

understand what any of these schools and parties intended, you must

first understand what they were called. From this as from a central

point you must start; even as you must bring back to this whatever

further knowledge you may acquire; putting your later gains, if

possible, in subordination to the name; at all events in connexion and

relation with it.

You will often be able to glean information from names, such as, if not

always important, will yet rarely fail to be interesting and

instructive in its way. Thus what a record of inventions, how much of

the past history of commerce do they embody and preserve. The 'magnet'

has its name from Magnesia, a district of Thessaly; this same Magnesia,

or else another like-named district in Asia Minor, yielding the

medicinal earth so called. 'Artesian' wells are from the province of

Artois in France, where they were long in use before introduced

elsewhere. The 'baldachin' or 'baudekin' is from Baldacco, the Italian

form of the name of the city of Bagdad, from whence the costly silk of

this canopy originally came. [Footnote: [See Devic's Supplement to

Littré; the Italian _l_ is an attempt to pronounce the Arabic guttural

Ghain. In the Middle Ages _Baldacco_ was often supposed to be the same

as 'Babylon'; see Florio's _Ital. Dict._ (s.v. _baldacca_).]] The'

bayonet' suggests concerning itself, though perhaps wrongly, that it

was first made at Bayonne--the 'bilbo,' a finely tempered Spanish blade,

at Bilbao--the 'carronade' at the Carron Ironworks in Scotland--

'worsted' that it was spun at a village not far from Norwich--

'sarcenet' that it is a Saracen manufacture--'cambric' that it reached

us from Cambray--'copper' that it drew its name from Cyprus, so richly

furnished with mines of this metal--'fustian' from Fostat, a suburb of

Cairo--'frieze' from Friesland--'silk' or 'sericum' from the land of

the Seres or Chinese--'damask' from Damascus--'cassimere' or

'kersemere' from Cashmere--'arras' from a town like-named--'duffel,'

too, from a town near Antwerp so called, which Wordsworth has

immortalized--'shalloon' from Chalons--'jane' from Genoa--'gauze' from

Gaza. The fashion of the 'cravat' was borrowed from the Croats, or

Crabats, as this wild irregular soldiery of the Thirty Years' War used

to be called. The 'biggen,' a plain cap often mentioned by our early

writers, was first worn by the Beguines, communities of pietist women

in the Low Countries in the twelfth century. The 'dalmatic' was a

garment whose fashion was taken to be borrowed from Dalmatia. (_See_

Marriott.) England now sends her calicoes and muslins to India and the

East; yet these words give standing witness that we once imported them

from thence; for 'calico' is from Calicut, a town on the coast of

Malabar, and 'muslin' from Mossul, a city in Asiatic Turkey. 'Cordwain'

or 'cordovan' is from Cordova--'delf' from Delft--'indigo' (indicum)

from India--'gamboge' from Cambodia--the 'agate' from a Sicilian river,

Achates--the 'turquoise' from Turkey--the 'chalcedony' or onyx from

Chalcedon--'jet' from the river Gages in Lycia, where this black stone

is found. [Footnote: In Holland's _Pliny_, the Greek form 'gagates' is

still retained, though he oftener calls it 'jeat' or 'geat.'] 'Rhubarb'

is a corruption of Rha barbarum, the root from the savage banks of the

Rha or Volga--'jalap' is from Jalapa, a town in Mexico--'tobacco' from

the island Tobago--'malmsey' from Malvasia, for long a flourishing city

in the Morea--'sherry,' or 'sherris' as Shakespeare wrote it, is from

Xeres--'macassar' oil from a small Malay kingdom so named in the

Eastern Archipelago--'dittany' from the mountain Dicte, in Crete--

'parchment' from Pergamum--'majolica' from Majorca--'faience' from the

town named in Italian Faenza. A little town in Essex gave its name to

the 'tilbury'; another, in Bavaria, to the 'landau.' The 'bezant' is a

coin of Byzantium; the 'guinea' was originally coined (in 1663) of gold

brought from the African coast so called; the pound 'sterling' was a

certain weight of bullion according to the standard of the Easterlings,

or Eastern merchants from the Hanse Towns on the Baltic. The 'spaniel'

is from Spain; the 'barb' is a steed from Barbary; the pony called a

'galloway' from the county of Galloway in Scotland; the 'tarantula' is

a poisonous spider, common in the neighbourhood of Tarentum. The

'pheasant' reached us from the banks of the Phasis; the 'bantam' from a

Dutch settlement in Java so called; the 'canary' bird and wine, both

from the island so named; the 'peach' (persica) declares itself a

Persian fruit; 'currants' derived their name from Corinth, whence they

were mostly shipped; the 'damson' is the 'damascene' or plum of

Damascus; the 'bergamot' pear is named from Bergamo in Italy; the

'quince' has undergone so many changes in its progress through Italian

and French to us, that it hardly retains any trace of Cydon (malum

Cydonium), a town of Crete, from which it was supposed to proceed.

'Solecisms,' if I may find room for them here, are from Soloe, an

Athenian colony in Cilicia, whose members soon forgot the Attic

refinement of speech, and became notorious for the ungrammatical Greek

which they talked.

And as things thus keep record in the names which they bear of the

quarters from which they reached us, so also will they often do of the

persons who, as authors, inventors, or discoverers, or in some other

way, stood in near connexion with them. A collection in any language of

all the names of persons which have since become names of things--from

nomina _apellativa_ have become nomina _realia_--would be very curious

and interesting, I will enumerate a few. Where the matter is not

familiar to you, it will not be unprofitable to work back from the word

or thing to the person, and to learn more accurately the connexion

between them.

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