Literary Blunders | Page 6

forms of words was general; and still, in
spite of the modern school of philology, which has shown us the right
way, much wild guessing continues to be prevalent. It is not, however,
often that we can point to such a brilliant instance of blundering
etymology as that to be found in Barlow's English Dictionary (1772).
The word porcelain is there said to be ``derived from pour cent annes,
French for a hundred years, it having been imagined that the materials
were matured underground for that term of years.''
Richardson, the novelist, suggests an etymology almost equal to this.
He writes, ``What does correspondence mean? It is a word of Latin
origin: a compound word; and the two elements here brought together
are respondeo, I answer, and cor, the heart: i.e., I answer feelingly, I
reply not so much to the head as to the heart.''
Dr. Ash's English Dictionary, published in 1775, is an exceedingly
useful work, as

containing many words and forms of words
nowhere else registered, but it contains some curious mistakes. The
chief and best-known one is the explanation of the word
curmudgeon--``from the French cur, unknown, and mechant, a
correspondent.'' The only explanation of this absurdly confused
etymology is that an ignorant man was employed to copy from
Johnson's Dictionary, where the authority was given as ``an unknown
correspondent,'' and he, supposing these words to be a translation of the
French, set them down as such. The two words esoteric and exoteric
were not so frequently used in the last century as they are now; so
perhaps there may be some excuse for the following entry: ``Esoteric
(adj. an incorrect spelling) exoteric.'' Dr. Ash could not have been well
read in Arthurian literature, or he would not have turned the noble
knight Sir Gawaine into a woman, ``the sister of King Arthur.'' There is
a story of a blunder in Littleton's Latin Dictionary, which further
research has proved to be no mistake at all. It is said that when the

Doctor was compiling his work, and

announced the word
concurro to his amanuensis, the scribe, imagining from the sound that
the six first letters would give the translation of the verb, said ``Concur,
sir, I suppose?'' to which the Doctor peevishly replied,
``Concur--condog!'' and in the edition of 1678 ``condog'' is printed as
one interpretation of concurro. Now, an answer to this story is that,
however odd a word ``condog'' may appear, it will be found in Henry
Cockeram's English Dictionarie, first published in 1623. The entry is as
follows: ``to agree, concurre, cohere, condog, condiscend.''
Mistakes are frequently made in respect of foreign words which retain
their original form, especially those which retain their Latin plurals, the
feminine singular being often confused with the neuter plural. For
instance, there is the word animalcule (plural animalcules), also written
_animalculum (plural animalcula_). Now, the plural animalcula is
often supposed to be the feminine singular, and a new plural is at once
made--animalcul. This blunder is one constantly being made,
while it is only occasionally we see a supposed plural

strat
in geology from a supposed singular strata, and the supposed singular
formulum from a supposed plural formula will probably turn up some
day.
In connection with popular etymology, it seems proper to make a
passing mention of the sailors' perversion of the Bellerophon into the
Billy Ruffian, the Hirondelle into the Iron Devil, and La Bonne
Corvette into the Bonny Cravat. Some of the supposed changes in
public-house signs, such as Bull and Mouth from ``Boulogne mouth,''
and Goat and Compasses from ``God encompasseth us,'' are more than
doubtful; but the Bacchanals has certainly changed into the Bag o' nails,
and the George Canning into the George and Cannon. The words in the
language that have been formed from a false analogy are so numerous
and have so often been noted that we must not allow them to detain us
here longer.
Imaginary persons have been brought into being owing to blundering
misreading. For instance, there are many saints in the Roman calendar
whose individuality it would not be easy to prove. All

know

how St. Veronica came into being, and equally well known is the origin
of St. Ursula and her eleven thousand virgins. In this case, through the
misreading of her name, the unfortunate virgin martyr Undecimilla has
dropped out of the calendar.
Less known is the origin of Saint Xynoris, the martyr of Antioch, who
is noticed in the Martyrologie Romaine of Baronius. Her name was
obtained by a misreading of Chrysostom, who, referring to two martyrs,
uses the word s> (couple or pair).
In the City of London there is a church dedicated to St. Vedast, which
is situated in Foster Lane, and is often described as St. Vedast,