Word Power Made Easy - The Complete Three-Week Vocabulary Builder
Author: Lewis, Norman
Date: 2012-07-19 00:00:00+08:00
Publisher: Read Books
Rights: All rights reserved

WORD POWER MADE EASY

——THE COMPLETE THREE-WEEK VOCABULARY BUILDER—

BY NORMAN LEWIS

CONTENTS

FIRST WEEK: GETTING OFF TO A GOOD START

1. How to Test Your Present Vocabulary

How the vocabulary of the average adult compares with that of children and college students; a simple sixty-word test to show you whether your vocabulary is below-average, average, above-average, excellent, or superior; important evidence of the close relationship between your vocabulary and your success in economic, social, and intellectual life.

2. How to Start Building Your Vocabulary

How building your vocabulary will improve your intellect and change your personality; why it is necessary to recapture the “powerful urge to learn”; why your age makes little difference; how this book is designed to build your vocabulary in three weeks.

3. How to Talk about Personality Types

Words that describe all kinds and sorts of people, including terms for self-interest, reactions to the world, attitudes to others, skill and awkwardness, marital states, hatred of man, woman, and wedlock. How one evening of pleasant work can add more words to your vocabulary than the average adult learns in an entire year; why it is necessary to stay with your work for long periods and return to it at regular intervals.

4. How to Talk about Doctors

Words that relate to medical specialists and specialties. Terms for experts in disorders of the female organs; childhood diseases; skin ailments; skeletal deformities; heart ailments; disorders of the nerves, mind, and personality. How self-discipline and patience will ultimately lead to complete mastery of words.

5. How to Talk about Various Practitioners

Words that describe a variety of occupations, including excursions into the vocabulary of the mental and physical life. How you are becoming more and more conscious of the new words you meet in your reading.

6. How to Talk about Science and Scientists

Words that describe students of human development, of the heavens, of the earth, of plant and animal life of insect forms, of words and language, of social organization, and excursions into all related terms. Nine books that will add immeasurably to your store of new ideas.

7. How to Talk about Liars and Lying

Words that accurately explain different modes and causes of lying; terms that relate to fame, artistry, reform, heredity, time, place, suffering, et cetera. Four lasting benefits you have begun to acquire from your work in vocabulary building.

8. How to Check Your First Week’s Progress

What you have accomplished in one week. A thorough test of your learning of the words and roots discussed in previous pages.

SECOND WEEK: GAINING INCREASED MOMENTUM

9. How to Talk about Actions

Verbs that express important human activities, including excursions into expressive terms for good and evil, doing, saying, wishing, and pleasing. Further proof that you can learn, in one evening, as many new words as the average adult learns in an entire year.

10. How to Talk about Various Speech Habits

Words that accurately describe all degrees and kinds of talk and silence. Sixteen more books that will increase your alertness to new ideas.

11. How to Insult Your Enemies

Terms for describing disciplinarians, toadies, dabblers, troublesome women, flag-wavers, possessors of one-track minds, freethinkers, sufferers from imaginary ailments, et cetera, including excursions into words relating to father and mother, murder of all sorts, sexual desires, various manias and phobias, and different attitudes to God. Seven magazines that will help you build your vocabulary.

12. How to Flatter Your Friends

Terms for describing friendliness, energy, honesty, mental keenness, nobleness, bravery, charm, sophistication, et cetera, including excursions into expressive words that describe ways of eating and drinking, solving personal problems, believing and disbelieving, looking and seeing, facing the present, past, and future, and living in the city and country. How the new words you have learned have begun to influence your thinking.

13. How to Check Your Second Week’s Progress

A 110-item, cross-section test of your second week’s achievement.

THIRD WEEK: FINISHING WITH A FEELING OF COMPLETE SUCCESS

14. How to Talk about Common Phenomena and Occurrences

Words for poverty and wealth, direct and indirect emotions, not calling a spade a spade, banter and other light talk, animal-like contentment, homesickness, meat eating, and different kinds of secrecy. Excursions into terms expressive of goodness, of hackneyed phraseology, of similarity to various animals, of kinds of sound, of types of completeness, et cetera. Fourteen readable novels that will help you get used to the new words you are learning.

15. How to Talk about Everyday Attitudes

Words that relate to exhaustion, criticism, self-sacrifice, repetition, mental stagnation, pretense, hinting, soothing, sympathizing, indecision, et cetera. How you can increase your vocabulary by picking your friends’ brains.

16. How to Talk about a Variety of Conditions

Words that relate to insincere humility, dissatisfaction, snobbery, courtesy to women, financial embarrassment, sadness, et cetera. How increasing your vocabulary has begun to change the intellectual climate of your life.

17. How to Talk about Complicated Ideas

Terms that express irregularity, threats, similarity, vicious attacks, subtlety, unexpected remarks, harmful substances, disgrace, traps, et cetera. Excursions into words that refer to government, feelings, names, thinness, thankfulness, and sitting.

18. How to Check Your Third Week’s Progress

A thorough test of your grasp of the words and roots learned in the third week of your work.

19. How to Check Your Total Achievement

A spot check of your complete understanding of, and ability to recall, the hundreds of words you have learned in three weeks of vocabulary building.

20. How to Keep Building Your Vocabulary

The five simple, but vital, steps to take so that you can keep your vocabulary ever developing, ever increasing. How your vocabulary will continue to grow only if you remain on the search for new ideas, and the best means to make this search successful.

BRIEF INTERMISSIONS

1. Test Your Grammar

A thirty-sentence test of your ability to use words correctly. Is your English average, above-average, or nearly perfect?

2. Why Grammar Is Confusing

Grammatical usage is becoming more liberal every day—is your speech neither affected nor illiterate? Simple rules for fifteen important expressions.

3. How Grammar Changes

Grammar follows the speech habits of educated people—how does your grammar measure up in your use of nine common expressions?

4. How to Avoid Being a Purist

There is no reason for being overprecise in your speech—but do you also avoid barbarisms and illiterate expressions?

5. How to Speak Naturally

Nine more expressions of which you must be careful.

6. Do You Always Use the Proper Word?

A twenty-five-sentence check on your increasing linguistic ability.

7. How to Pronounce a Word

Avoiding illiterate forms; pronunciations with a college education; avoidance of affected pronunciations; tests to determine your ability to pronounce forty common words correctly.

8. How Good Is Your Pronunciation?

Three short tests for keeping tabs on your everyday pronunciation.

9. Some Interesting Derivations

How some common words come from the names of people and places.

10. Try This Pronunciation Test

Another series of easy, hard, and very hard quizzes.

11. Take This Spelling Test

Proof that you are becoming a better speller.

12. How to Spell a Word

You can eliminate all your spelling difficulties—provided you know the tricks.

13. Another Check on Your Spelling

Further tests to nail home the correct spellings of common but difficult words.

14. Final Check on Your Pronunciation, Grammar, and Spelling

A full-dress test of your increasing ability in these important language fields.

FIRST WEEK
GETTING OFF TO A GOOD START

1

HOW TO TEST
YOUR PRESENT VOCABULARY

If you are the average adult, your vocabulary is barely one-and-one-half times as large as that of a child of ten.

And you know only one fourth as many words as the average college sophomore.

But that’s the least of it—

What is infinitely more significant is that you are now increasing your vocabulary at no more than one one hundredth your rate when you were in the lower grades of elementary school!

These accusations may sound insulting—but they are not intended to be. They are only an attempt to get you to face the facts about vocabulary development that educational testing has turned up in recent years.

Let us examine some of these facts.

According to a typical investigation by Professor Robert H. Seashore, chairman of the Department of Psychology of Northwestern University, the average child of ten knows the meanings of 34,300 different terms, and since his sixth year has been learning new words at the rate of 5000 a year.

The results of a similar investigation, conducted by Columbia University Professor George W. Hartmann among the students of the Alabama Institute of Technology, show that the average college sophomore has a vocabulary of approximately two hundred thousand words.

How do these figures compare with your own? I have obtained data on adult vocabularies by testing hundreds of students in the Adult Education Program of the City College of New York. These data show:

1. That the average adult vocabulary is 50,000 words—one-fourth the size of the vocabulary of a college sophomore, only one-and-one-half times as large as the vocabulary of a ten-year-old.

2. That the constant rate of increase among adults is in the neighborhood of fifty words a year-one one hundredth the rate of children between six and ten.

This wide discrepancy is something to think about, isn’t it?

But wait—perhaps you are not the average adult. Perhaps your vocabulary is not comparatively anemic; perhaps you have come a lot further, since you were ten, than most people.

Shall we put it to a test?

A TEST OF VOCABULARY RANGE

Here are sixty brief phrases, each containing one italicized word; it is up to you to check the closest definition of each such word. To keep your score valid, refrain, as far as possible, from wild guessing. The key will be found at the end of the test.

1. disheveled appearance: (a) untidy, (b) fierce, (c) foolish, (d) peculiar, (e) unhappy

2. a baffling problem: (a) difficult, (b) simple, (c) puzzling, (d) long, (e) new

3. lenient parent: (a) tall, (b) not strict, (c) wise, (d) foolish, (e) severe

4. repulsive personality: (a) disgusting, (b) attractive, (c) normal, (d) confused, (e) conceited

5. audacious attempt: (a) useless, (b) bold, (c) foolish, (d) crazy, (e) necessary

6. agile climber: (a) lively, (b) tired, (c) skillful, (d) careful, (e) stubborn

7. prevalent disease: (a) dangerous, (b) catching, (c) childhood, (d) fatal, (e) widespread

8. ominous report: (a) loud, (b) threatening, (c) untrue, (d) serious, (e) unpleasant

9. an incredible story: (a) true, (b) interesting, (c) well-known, (d) unbelievable, (e) unknown

10. a good oculist: (a) eye doctor, (b) skin doctor, (c) foot doctor, (d) heart doctor, (e) bone doctor

11. will supersede the old law: (a) enforce, (b) specify penalties for, (c) take the place of, (d) repeal, (e) continue

12. an anonymous donor: (a) generous, (b) stingy, (c) well-known, (d) one whose name is not known, (e) reluctant

13. performed an autopsy: (a) examination of living tissue, (b) examination of a corpse to determine the cause of death, (c) process in the manufacture of optical lenses, (d) operation to cure an organic disease, (e) series of questions to determine the causes of delinquent behavior

14. an indefatigable worker: (a) well-paid, (b) tired, (c) skillful, (d) tireless, (e) pleasant

15. a confirmed atheist: (a) bachelor, (b) disbeliever in God, (c) believer in religion, (d) believer in science, (e) priest

16. a loquacious woman: (a) tall, (b) beautiful, (c) homely, (d) sweet, (e) talkative

17. a glib talker: (a) smooth, (b) awkward, (c) loud, (d) friendly, (e) boring

18. to philander: (a) work hard, (b) make love triflingly, (c) save money, (d) be in doubt, (e) try unsuccessfully

19. an ocular difficulty: (a) unexpected, (b) insurmountable, (c) pertaining to the eye, (d) real, (e) imaginary

20. questionable paternity: (a) fatherhood, (b) truthfulness, (c) value, (d) knowledge, (e) wisdom

21. a naive attitude: (a) unwise, (b) hostile, (c) unsophisticated, (d) friendly, (e) contemptuous

22. living in affluence: (a) dirt, (b) countrified surroundings, (c) fear, (d) wealth, (e) poverty

23. more pleasant in retrospect: (a) back view, (b) freedom, (c) acceptance, (d) leisure, (e) anticipation

24. a real gourmet: (a) teacher, (b) greedy eater, (c) vegetarian, (d) connoisseur of good food, (e) antique

25. to simulate interest: (a) pretend, (b) feel, (c) lose, (d) stir up, (e) ask for

26. a magnanimous action: (a) puzzling, (b) generous, (c) foolish, (d) unnecessary, (e) wise

27. a clandestine meeting: (a) prearranged, (b) hurried, (c) important, (d) secret, (e) periodical

28. the apathetic populace: (a) made up of various national stocks, (b) keenly vigilant of their rights, (c) densely packed (d) indifferent, uninterested, (e) prehistoric

29. to placate his wife: (a) divorce, (b) make a gift to, (c) make arrangements for, (d) help, (e) change hostility to friendliness

30. vacillate continuously: (a) avoid, (b) waver mentally, (c) inject, (d) treat, (e) scold

31. a nostalgic feeling: (a) nauseated, (b) homesick, (c) sharp, (d) painful, (e) delighted

32. feel antipathy: (a) bashfulness, (b) stage fright, (c) friendliness, (d) hostility, (e) suspense

33. be more circumspect: (a) restrained, (b) confident, (c) cautious, (d) honest, (e) intelligent

34. an intrepid campaigner: (a) fearless, (b) eloquent, (c) popular, (d) experienced, (e) famous

35. diaphanous material: (a) strong, (b) sheer and gauzy, (c) colorful, (d) expensive, (e) sleazy

36. a taciturn host: (a) stingy, (b) generous, (c) disinclined to conversation, (d) charming, (e) gloomy

37. to malign his friend: (a) accuse, (b) help financially, (c) disbelieve, (d) slander, (e) discard

38. a congenital deformity: (a) horrible, (b) crippling, (c) slight, (d) incurable, (e) occurring at or during birth

39. a definite neurosis: (a) plan, (b) emotional maladjustment, (c) mental derangement, (d) feeling of fear, (e) physical reaction

40. took an unequivocal stand: (a) indecisive, (b) well-intentioned, (c) unexpected, (d) definite, (e) dangerous

41. vicarious enjoyment: (a) complete, (b) unspoiled, (c) occurring from a feeling of identification with another, (d) long-continuing, (e) temporary

42. psychogenic ailment: (a) incurable, (b) contagious, (c) caused by the emotions, (d) intestinal, (e) imaginary

43. an anachronous attitude: (a) unexplainable, (b) religious, (c) belonging to a different time, (d) out-of-place, (e) unusual

44. his iconoclastic phase: (a) artistic, (b) sneering at tradition, (c) troubled, (d) difficult, (e) religious

45. a tyro: (a) dominating personality, (b) beginner, (c) accomplished musician, (d) dabbler, (e) serious student

46. a laconic reply: (a) immediate, (b) assured, (c) terse and meaningful, (d) unintelligible, (e) angry

47. semantic confusion: (a) relating to the meanings of words, (b) pertaining to money, (c) having to do with the emotions, (d) relating to mathematics, (e) scientific

48. cavalier treatment: (a) courteous, (b) high-handed, (c) negligent, (d) incomplete, (e) expensive

49. an anomalous situation: (a) dangerous, (b) intriguing, (c) unusual, (d) pleasant, (e) unhappy

50. posthumous child: (a) cranky, (b) brilliant beyond his years, (c) physically weak, (d) illegitimate, (e) born after the death of his father

51. feels enervated: (a) full of ambition, (b) full of strength, (c) completely exhausted, (d) troubled, (e) weak

52. shows true perspicacity: (a) sincerity, (b) mental keenness, (c) love, (d) faithfulness, (e) longing

53. a sycophantic attitude: (a) sneering, (b) unbelieving, (c) bootlicking, (d) surprising, (e) contemptible

54. gregarious person: (a) calm, (b) company-loving, (c) untrustworthy, (d) vicious, (e) self-sacrificing

55. sufficiently phlegmatic: (a) satisfied, (b) annoyed, (c) high-strung, (d) emotionally calm, (e) irritating

56. consummate scoundrel: (a) repentant, (b) punished, (c) perfect, (d) vicious, (e) unreformable

57. an egregious blunder: (a) outstandingly bad, (b) slight, (c) irreparable, (d) unnecessary, (e) humorous

58. cacophony of the city: (a) political administration, (b) crowded living conditions, (c) cultural advantages, (d) harsh sounds, (e) foul odors

59. a prurient adolescent: (a) tall and gangling, (b) sexually longing, (c) clumsy and awkward, (d) pimply faced, (e) soft-spoken

60. uxorious husband: (a) henpecked, (b) suspicious, (c) guilty of infidelity, (d) fondly and foolishly doting on his wife, (e) lovesick

KEY: 1—a, 2—c, 3—b, 4—a, 5—b, 6—a, 7—e, 8—b, 9—d, 10—a, 11—c, 12—d, 13—b, 14—d, 15—b, 16—e, 17—a, 18—b, 19—c, 20—a, 21—c, 22—d, 23—a, 24—d, 25—a, 26—b, 27—d, 28—d, 29—e, 30—b, 31—b, 32—d, 33—c, 34—a, 35—b, 36—c, 37—d, 38—e, 39—b, 40—d, 41—c, 42—c, 43—c, 44—b, 45—b, 46—c, 47—a, 48—b, 49—c, 50—e, 51—c, 52—b, 53—c, 54—b, 55—d, 56—c, 57—a, 58—d, 59—b, 60—d

Your score (allowing one point for each correct answer)

. . . . . . .————

THE MEANING OF YOUR SCORE

These words have been carefully chosen according to their difficulty, and the approximate evaluation of your vocabulary which you will find in the chart below is based on the results achieved by 318 students in the Adult Education Program of the City College of New York.

If you scored:

0–11 correct choices, your vocabulary is below-average

12–35 correct choices, your vocabulary is average

36–48 correct choices, your vocabulary is above-average

49–54 correct choices, your vocabulary is excellent

55–60 correct choices, your vocabulary is on a superior level.

VOCABULARY AND SUCCESS

Now you know where you stand. If you are in the below-average or average group, you must consider, seriously, whether an inadequate vocabulary may be holding you back socially, professionally, and intellectually. (If you are in one of the higher groups, you have doubtless already discovered the unique and far-reaching value of a rich vocabulary, and you are eager to add still further to your knowledge of words.)

Let us examine, briefly, some of the scientific evidence that points to the intimate relationship between vocabulary and personal, professional, and intellectual success.

The Human Engineering Laboratory, an institution which tests people’s aptitudes, has found that the only common characteristic of successful people in this country is an unusual grasp of the meanings of words. The Laboratory has tested the vocabularies of thousands of people in all age groups and in all walks of life—and has discovered that the men drawing down the highest salaries have made the highest scores. I want you to consider very thoughtfully the explanation that Dr. Johnson O’Connor, director of the Laboratory, offers for the close relationship between vocabulary and success:

“Why do large vocabularies characterize executives and possibly outstanding men and women in other fields? The final answer seems to be that words are the instruments by means of which men and women grasp the thoughts of others and with which they do much of their own thinking. They are the tools of thought.”

There is other evidence.

At many universities today, groups of freshmen are put into experimental classes for the sole purpose of increasing their knowledge of English words. These groups do better in their sophomore, junior, and senior years than control groups of similarly endowed students who do not receive such freshman training.

And still more evidence:

At the University of Illinois, entering students are given a simple twenty-nine-word vocabulary test. The results of this test can be used, according to Professor William D. Templeman, to make an accurate prediction of future academic success—or lack of success—over the entire four-year college course. “If a student has a superior vocabulary,” states Professor Templeman, “it will probably follow that he will do better work academically.”

And finally:

Educational research has discovered, in recent years, that a person’s I.Q. is intimately related to his vocabulary. Take a standard vocabulary test and then an intelligence test—the results in both will be substantially the same.

YOU CAN INCREASE YOUR VOCABULARY

Yes, in the highly verbal, highly intellectual civilization in which we now live, the man with a better vocabulary has a better chance of success, other things being equal—a better chance of success in his personal life, his business life, his intellectual life.

And you can increase your vocabulary—faster and easier than you may realize.

You can, in fact, achieve a tremendous gain in just three short weeks of concentrated effort.

Furthermore—

You can start improving your vocabulary immediately—and within a few days you can be cruising along at such a rapid rate that there will be an actual change in your thinking, in your ability to express your thoughts, and in your powers of understanding.

Does this sound as if I am promising you the whole world in a neat package with a pretty pink ribbon tied around it? I am. And I am willing to make such an unqualified promise because I have seen what has happened almost overnight to those of my students who have made sincere, methodical efforts to learn more, many more, words.

2

HOW TO START
BUILDING YOUR VOCABULARY

WHEN you have finished working with this book, you will no longer be the same person.

You can’t be.

If you honestly read every page, if you do every exercise, if you take every test, if you follow every principle, you will go through an intellectual experience that will effect a radical change in you.

For if you systematically increase your vocabulary, you will also sharpen and enrich your thinking; push back your intellectual horizons; build your self-assurance; improve your facility in handling the English language and thereby your ability to express your thoughts effectively; and acquire a deeper understanding of the world in general and of yourself in particular.

Increasing your vocabulary does not mean merely learning the definitions of large numbers of obscure words; it does not mean memorizing scores of unrelated terms. What it means—what it can only mean—is becoming acquainted with the multitudinous and fascinating phenomena of human existence for which words are, obviously, only the verbal descriptions.

Increasing your vocabulary—properly, intelligently, and systematically—means treating yourself to an all-round, liberal education.

And surely you cannot deny that such an experience will change you intellectually—

Will have a discernible effect on your methods of thinking—on your store of information—on your ability to express your ideas—on your understanding of human problems.

HOW CHILDREN INCREASE THEIR VOCABULARIES

In the previous chapter I mentioned Professor Robert H. Seashore’s investigation of children’s recognition vocabularies. Let me present some more of Seashore’s findings:

At the age of four, the average child has a vocabulary of 5,600 basic words.

At the age of five, he knows 9,600 words.

At the age of six, 14,700 words.

At the age of seven, 21,200 words.

At the age of eight, 26,300 words.

At the age of nine, 29,300 words.

And, you will recall from Chapter 1, Professor Seashore found that at the ripe old age of ten the average child is able to recognize and understand 34,300 different words—and has been building his vocabulary at an approximate rate of 5000 words a year since his sixth birthday.

Do these figures leave you a little short of breath? They should. For you yourself were once that average child.

You yourself once increased your vocabulary at the average rate of 5000 words a year.

And how did you accomplish that Gargantuan feat?

By staying up nights poring over an unabridged dictionary?

By keeping notebooks chock-full of all the new words you ever heard or read?

By assiduously looking up the definitions of any new words your parents and friends used?

No—you had a much better, much more effective, and considerably less self-conscious method.

Your method was the essence of simplicity: day in and day out you kept learning; you kept squeezing every possible ounce of learning out of every waking moment; you were an eternal question box, for you had a constant and insatiable desire to know and understand.

Then, eventually, you lost your great drive for knowing and understanding.

When that happened, your vocabulary stopped increasing—because your intellect had slowed down its tremendous rate of growth.

HOW ADULTS STOP BUILDING THEIR VOCABULARIES

In a review of Caroline Pratt’s recent book, I Learn from Children, Roland Gelatt states somewhat the same idea in the following words: “All normal human beings are born with a powerful urge to learn. Almost all of them lose this urge, even before they have reached maturity. It is only the few . . . who are so constituted that lack of learning becomes a nuisance. This is perhaps the most insidious of human tragedies.”

Children are wonders at increasing their vocabularies because of their “powerful urge to learn.” They do not learn solely by means of words, but as their knowledge increases, so does their vocabulary—for words are the symbols of ideas and understanding.

(If you are a parent, you perhaps remember that crucial and trying period in which your child constantly asked “Why?” The “Why?” is the child’s method of finding out. How many adults that you know go about asking and thinking “Why?” How often do you yourself do it?)

The adults who “lose this urge,” who no longer feel that “lack of learning becomes a nuisance,” stop building their vocabularies. They stop learning, they stop growing intellectually, they stop developing mentally, they stop changing. When and if this period of life is finally reached, then, as Mr. Gelatt so truly says, “This is perhaps the most insidious of human tragedies.”

But fortunately the process is not irreversible.

We have not yet learned to bring back life to a dead body. But we do know how to breathe life into a stalled mind, how to revive intellectual curiosity, how to restore the “powerful urge to learn.” In short, we do know how to help an adult start his vocabulary growing again even if it has been quiescent for many years.

I am not talking theory. For years I have been working face to face with thousands of adults who have been taking vocabulary-improvement courses in the City College of New York.

As the result of my experience with these adults, I can state as a fact, and without qualification, that:

The person who can recapture “the powerful urge to learn” with which he was born can go on increasing his vocabulary at a prodigious rate—

No matter what his present age.

WHY AGE MAKES LITTLE DIFFERENCE IN VOCABULARY BUILDING

I repeat, no matter what his present age.

You may be laboring under a delusion common to many older people.

You may think that after you pass the twenties you rapidly and inevitably lose your ability to learn.

That is simply not true.

There is no doubt that the years up to eighteen or twenty are the best period for learning. Your own experience bears that out. And of course with the average person more learning is done up to twenty than ever after, even if he lives to be older than Methuselah. (That is why one’s vocabulary increases so spectacularly for the first twenty years of one’s life and comparatively little thereafter.)

But (and follow me closely)—

The fact that most learning is accomplished before the age of twenty does not mean that very little learning can be done beyond that age.

What is done by most people and what can be done under proper guidance and motivation are two very, very different things—as scientific experiments have conclusively shown.

Furthermore—

The fact that one’s learning ability is best up to twenty does not mean that it is absolutely useless as soon as the twentieth birthday has passed.

Quite the contrary.

Edward Thorndike, the famous educational psychologist, found in experiments with people of all ages that although the learning curve rises spectacularly up to twenty it remains steady for at least another five years. After that, ability to learn (according to Professor Thorndike) drops very, very, slowly up to the age of thirty-five, a little more rapidly but still slowly beyond that age.

And—

Right up to senility the total decrease in learning ability after age twenty is never more than 15 per cent!

That does not sound, I submit, as if no one can ever learn anything new after the age of twenty.

Believe me, the old saw that claims you cannot teach an old dog new tricks is a baseless, if popular, superstition.

So I repeat: No matter what your age, you can go on learning efficiently, or start learning once again if perhaps you have stopped.

You can be thirty, or forty, or fifty, or sixty, or seventy—or older.

No matter what your age, you can once again increase your vocabulary at a prodigious rate—providing you recapture the “powerful urge to learn” that is the key to vocabulary improvement.

Not the urge to learn “words”—words are only symbols of ideas.

But the urge to learn facts, theories, concepts, information, knowledge, understanding—call it what you will.

Words are the symbols of knowledge, the keys to accurate thinking. Is it any wonder then that the most successful and intelligent people in this country have the biggest vocabularies?

It was not their large vocabularies that made these people successful and intelligent, but their knowledge.

Knowledge, however, is gained largely through words.

In the process of increasing their knowledge, these successful people increased their vocabularies.

Just as the child increases his vocabulary at a tremendous, phenomenal rate during those years when his knowledge is increasing most rapidly.

Knowledge is chiefly in the form of words, and from now on, in this book, you will be thinking about, and thinking with, new words and new ideas.

WHAT THIS BOOK CAN DO FOR YOU

This book is designed to get you started building your vocabulary at a comparatively prodigious rate by helping you regain the intellectual atmosphere, the keen, insatiable, curiosity, the “powerful urge to learn” of your childhood.

The organization of the book is based on two simple principles: 1) words are the verbal symbols of ideas, and 2) the more ideas someone is familiar with, the more words he knows.

So, chapter by chapter, we will start with some central idea—personality types, doctors, science, unusual occupations, liars, actions, speech habits, insults, compliments, et cetera—and examine ten basic words which express various aspects of that idea. Then, using each word as a springboard, we will explore any others which are related to it in meaning or derivation, so that it is not unlikely that a single chapter may discuss, teach, and test close to 100 important words.

Always, however, the approach will be from the idea. First there will be a “teaser preview” in which the ideas are briefly hinted at; then a “headline,” in which each idea is examined somewhat more closely; next a clear, detailed paragraph or more which will analyze the idea in all its ramifications; finally the word itself, which you will meet only after you are completely familiar with the idea.

In the etymology (derivation of words) section, you will learn what Greek or Latin root gives the word its unique meaning and what other words contain the same or related roots. You will thus be continuously working in related fields, and there will never be any possibility of confusion from “too muchness,” despite the great number of words taken up and tested in each chapter.

Successful people have superior vocabularies. People who are intellectually, socially, and economically successful are accustomed to dealing with ideas, are constantly on the search for new ideas, build their lives and their careers on the ideas they have learned. And it is to readers whose goal is successful living that this book is addressed.

A NOTE ON TIME SCHEDULES

From my experience over many years in teaching adults, I have become a firm believer in setting a goal for all learning and a schedule for reaching that goal.

If you will work intensively several hours an evening and several evenings a week, you will have no difficulty finishing each of the three main sections of this book in one week—a total of three weeks for the entire book.

If you can so organize your life that you will be able to work on your vocabulary for an hour or more every day (needless to say, this would be the ideal time schedule), you will be able to master the contents of this book in three weeks by completing one chapter plus its brief intermission in a single sitting. (Try it—it’s really easier than it may sound, even when you get to the longer chapters in the middle of the book.)

Of course you may find that you can go faster or, on the other hand, that you prefer to take longer. That is up to you—you will be your own taskmaster. But above all, decide as soon as possible at approximately what rate you can comfortably go and how long, therefore, it will take you to finish. Then set your schedule and stick to it. Try, also, never to interrupt your work until you have thoroughly covered that part of a chapter for which various pronunciation, comprehension, and recall tests are provided—the place to stop, if your learning is to be efficient and satisfying, is at the end of a series of tests, never anywhere else.

3

HOW TO TALK
ABOUT PERSONALITY TYPES

TEASER PREVIEW

How do you describe a man who:

• is interested solely in his own welfare?

• constantly talks about himself?

• dedicates his life to helping others?

• turns his mind inward?

• turns his mind outward?

• hates humanity?

• hates women?

• hates marriage?

• leads a lonely, austere existence?

UNLESS you are a hermit, you meet, from day to day and year to year, an amazing variety of different kinds of human beings. Psychology claims that every human being is unique—how a man (or woman) turns out is wholly dependent, in the beginning, on chance. Which one of the countless millions of the father’s sperm will be the first to reach and fertilize the mother’s egg? And what unpredictable forces of environment will mold and shape and develop the newborn infant into the final adult? Will he be proud or humble, friendly or moody, a genius or an imbecile, or just a so-called “average” human being?

We start our work by examining ten products of the chance interplay of the forces I have been describing.

And, of course, we begin not with the words, but with the ideas.

IDEAS

1. me first

This man’s attitude to life is simple, direct, and aboveboard—every decision he makes is based on the answer to one question: “What’s in it for me?” If his selfishness, greed, and ruthless desire for self-advancement hurt other people, that’s too bad “This is a tough world, pal, dog eat dog, every man for himself, and I, for one, am not going to be left behind!”

He’s an egoist.

2. the height of conceit

“Now, let’s see. Have you heard about all the money I’m making? Did I tell you about my latest amorous conquest? Let me give you my opinion—I know, because I’m an expert at practically everything!” This conceited boor is boastful to the point of being obnoxious—he has only one string to his conversational violin, namely, himself; and on it he plays a number of monotonous variations: what he thinks, what he has done, how good he is, how he would solve the problems of the world, et cetera ad nauseam.

He’s an egotist.

3. let me help you

He has discovered the secret of true happiness—concerning himself with the welfare of others. Never mind his own interests, how’s the next fellow getting along?

He’s an altruist.

4. leave me alone

Like a biochemist studying a colony of bacteria under the microscope, he minutely examines his every thought, feeling, and action. Probing, futile questions like “What do other people think of me?” “How do I look?” and “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that,” are his constant nagging companions, for he is unable to realize that other people do not spend as much time and energy analyzing him as he thinks.

He may seem unsocial, yet his greatest desire is to be liked and accepted. He may be shy and quiet, he is often moody and unhappy, and he prefers solitude or at most the company of one person to a crowd. He has an aptitude for creative work and is uncomfortable engaging in activities that require co-operation with other people. He may even be a genius, or eventually turn into one.

He’s an introvert.

5. let’s do it together

He’s a wonderful salesman, because he can always get interested—sincerely, vitally interested—in other people’s problems. He’s the life of the party, because he never worries about the effect of his actions, never inhibits himself with doubts about dignity or propriety. He is usually happy, generally full of high spirits, and he loves to be with people—lots of people. His thoughts, his interests, his whole personality are turned outward.

He’s an extrovert.

6. like you and me

He has both introverted and extroverted tendencies—at different times and on different occasions. His interests are turned, in about equal proportions, both inward and outward. Indeed, he’s quite normal—in the sense that his personality is like that of most of us.

He’s an ambivert.

7. people are no damn good

Cynical, embittered, suspicious, he hates everyone. The perfectability of the human race? “Oh, brother, don’t get me on that topic!” The stupidity, the meanness, and the crookedness of most mortals (“Most? Probably all!”)—that is his favorite theme.

He’s a misanthrope.

8. women are no damn good

Some time in the dim past of this unfortunate man’s life he was crossed, scorned, or deeply wounded by a woman. So now he has a natural defense—he hates and fears all women. He agrees with the gloomy philosopher, Schopenhauer (or was it Nietzsche?) that “Women are the long-haired, short-brained sex”; that “Whenever you visit a woman, make sure to take a big whip with you.”

He’s a misogynist.

9. “marriage is an institution—and who wants to live in an institution?”

“Women are fine—they make wonderful companions, mistresses, and other men’s wives.” This gentleman, if we may call him a gentleman, defines a bachelor as one who is lucky in love—for he himself is definitely and irrevocably averse to wedding bells. He probably needs the help of a good psychiatrist—though who knows, maybe the single blessed state is the only one for him.

He’s a misogamist.

10. “. . . that the flesh is heir to . . .”

Self-denial, austerity, lonely contemplation—these are the characteristics of the good life, so he claims. The simplest food and the least amount of it that will keep body and soul together, combined with a complete abstinence from indulgence in any of the earthy pleasures, will eventually lead to the spiritual and intellectual perfection which is man’s ultimate goal—that is his philosophy.

He’s an ascetic.

USING THE WORDS: I

You have been introduced to ten valuable words—but in each case, as you have noticed, you have first considered the ideas which these words represent. Now listen to the words—each one will be respelled phonetically so that you may make sure you are pronouncing it correctly. A capitalized syllable indicates the position of the accent—other syllables are spelled exactly as they sound.

Don’t be bashful; say each word aloud. This is one of the important steps to complete mastery. And as you hear the word in your own voice, think of its meaning. Are you quite clear as to the full significance of each one? If you are not, there is no law against going back and checking up on your learning.

Can you pronounce the words?

1. egoist

EE-go-ist

2. egotist

EE-go-tist

3. altruist

AL-troo-ist

4. introvert

IN-tro-vurt

5. extrovert

EKKS-tro-vurt

6. ambivert

AM-bi-vurt

*7. misanthrope

MISS-in-thrope

*8. misogynist

mi-SAHDGE-in-ist

*9. misogamist

mi-SOG-am-ist

10. ascetic

a-SET-ik (a as in hat)

Can you work with the words?

You have taken two long steps forward toward mastery of the expressive words in this chapter—you have thought about the ideas behind them, and you have said them aloud. Now you will want to be quite sure that there is no confusion in your mind as to which words refer to which personality types. To test the success of your learning, match the words in the first column with the actions in the second column.

1. egoist

a. turns his mind inward

2. egotist

b. hates marriage

3. altruist

c. talks about his accomplishments

4. introvert

d. hates his fellow mortals

5. extrovert

e. leads an austere life

6. ambivert

f. is interested in the welfare of others

7. misanthrope

g. believes in self-advancement

8. misogynist

h. turns his mind both inward and outward

9. misogamist

i. hates women

10. ascetic

j. turns his mind outward

KEY: 1—g, 2—c, 3—f, 4—a, 5—j, 6—h, 7—d, 8—i, 9—b, 10—e

Do you understand the words?

Now that you are becoming more and more involved in these ten words, find out if they can make an immediate appeal to your understanding. Here are ten questions—can you indicate, quickly, and without reference to any previous definitions, whether the correct answer to each of these questions is yes or no?

Can you recall the words?

These exercises are aimed toward making new words part of your everyday thinking. They not only check your learning, but also aid your memory and concentration. So don’t skip a single one.

Now that you have pronounced the new words of this chapter, have matched them to their definitions, and answered questions about them, test your recall by writing next to each brief definition the specific word which applies. The answers, which immediately follow the test, will help you check your spelling as well as your understanding.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: I

Every word in the English language has a history—and these ten are no exception. In this section you will learn a good deal more about the words you have been working with; in addition, you will make excursions into many other words allied either in meaning, form, or history to our basic ten.

1. the ego

Egoist and egotist are built on the same Latin stem—the pronoun ego, meaning I. I is the greatest concern in the egoist’s mind, the most overused word in the egotist’s vocabulary. (Keep the words differentiated in your own mind by thinking of the T in talk, and the T in egotist.) Ego itself has been taken over from Latin as an important English word and is commonly used to denote one’s concept of oneself, as in, “What do you think your constant criticisms do to my ego?.” Ego has also a special and highly restricted meaning in psychoanalysis—but for the moment you have enough troubles without going into that.

The egocentric person considers himself the center of the universe—he is an extreme form of the egoist. And the egomaniac carries egoism to such an extreme that his needs, desires, and interests have become a morbid obsession, a mania. The egoist or egotist is obnoxious, the egocentric is intolerable, and the egomaniac is dangerous and slightly mad (for example, Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini). The adjective form for egomaniac is egomaniacal.

2. others

In Latin the word for other is alter, and a number of valuable English words are built on this root.

Altruism, the philosophy practiced by altruists, comes from one of the variant spellings of Latin alter, other—altruistic actions look toward the benefit of others. If you alternate, you skip one and take the other, so to speak, as when you bathe on alternate Saturdays. An alternate in a debate, contest, or conference is the other person who will take over if the original choice should be unable to attend. And if you have no alternative but to marry some girl, you have no other choice.

You see how easy it is to understand the meanings of these words once you realize that they all come from the same source. And keeping in mind that alter means other, you can quickly understand words like alter ego, altercation, and alteration.

An alteration is of course a change—a making into something other. When you alter your plans, you make other plans.

An altercation is a verbal dispute—when you have an altercation with someone you have a violent disagreement, a “fight” with words. And why? Because you have other ideas, plans, or opinions than those of the person on the other side of the argument. Altercation, by the way, is somewhat stronger than quarrel or dispute—the sentiment is more heated, the disagreement is likely to be angry or even hot-tempered, there may be recourse, if the disputants are human, to profanity or obscenity. You have altercations, in short, over pretty important issues, and the word implies that you get quite excited.

Alter ego, which combines alter, other, with our old friend ego, I, generally refers to someone with whom you are so close that you and he do the same things, think alike, react similarly, and are, in temperament, almost mirror images of each other. Any such friend is your other I, your other self, your alter ego.

USING THE WORDS: II

Can you pronounce the words?

Digging a little into the derivation of three of our basic words, egoist, egotist, and altruist, has put us in touch with two important Latin roots, ego, I, and alter, other, and has made it possible for us to explore, with little difficulty, all other words derived from these roots. Pause, now, for a moment, to digest these new acquisitions, and to make sure that you can say them correctly.

1. ego

EE-go

2. egocentric

ee-go-SEN-trik

3. egomaniac

ee-go-MAY-nee-ak

*4. egomaniacal

ee-go-ma-NYE-a-k’l

5. altruism

AL-troo-izm

6. altruistic

al-troo-ISS-tik

7. to alternate

AWL-ter-nayt

*8. alternate (adj. or noun)

AWL-ter-nit

9. alternative

awl-TURN-a-tiv

10. alteration

awl-ter-AY-shun

11. to alter

AWL-ter

12. altercation

awl-ter-KAY-shun

13. alter ego

AWL-ter-EE-go

Can you work with the words? (I)

You have seen how these thirteen words stem from the two Latin roots ego, I, and alter, other, and you have pronounced them aloud and thereby begun to make them part of yourself. The question to settle at this point is whether you understand them well enough to be able to match them to their meanings. If you have studied successfully, you should make a perfect score.

1. ego

a. one who is excessively fixated on his own desires, needs, et cetera

2. egocentric

b. change

3. altruism

c. argument

4. to alternate

d. one’s concept of oneself

5. to alter

e. take one, skip one, et cetera

6. altercation

f. philosophy of putting another’s welfare above one’s own

KEY: 1—d, 2—a, 3—f, 4—e, 5—b, 6—c

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. egomaniacal

a. a change

2. altruistic

b. other

3. alternative

c. interested in the welfare of others

4. alteration

d. one’s other self

5. alter ego

e. a choice

6. alternate (adj.)

f. morbidly, insanely wrapped up in oneself

KEY: 1—f, 2—c, 3—e, 4—a, 5—d, 6—b

Do you understand the words?

If you have begun to understand these thirteen words, you will be able to react immediately, and correctly, to the following questions.

Can you recall the words?

Do you now understand each of these new words so well that you can summon it from your mind when a brief definition is offered? Review first if you feel that is necessary, then without further reference to the list in the previous tests try writing the proper word in each blank.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: II

1. depends how you turn

Introvert, extrovert, and ambivert are built on the Latin verb verto, to turn. If your thoughts are constantly turned inward (intro), you are an introvert; outward (extro), an extrovert; and in both directions (ambi), an ambivert. Ambi, both, is also found in ambidextrous, able to use both hands with equal skill. (The noun is ambidexterity.) Dexterous means skillful, dexterity means skill. Dexter is actually the Latin word for right hand—in the ambidextrous person, both hands are right hands, so to speak. The right hand is traditionally the more skillful one; it is only recently that we have come to accept that “lefties” or “south-paws” are just as normal as anyone else—and the term left-handed is still used as a synonym of awkward.

The Latin word for the left hand is sinister. This word, in English, means evil or dangerous,* a further commentary on our traditional suspiciousness of left-handed persons. There are probably still a large number of parents who insist on forcing left-handed children to change (though left-handedness is inherited and as much an integral part of its possessor as the color of his eyes or the shape of his nose), with various unfortunate results—usually stuttering and an inability to read with normal skill.

The French word for the left hand, by the way, is gauche, and, as you would suspect, when we took this word over into English we invested it with an uncomplimentary meaning. Call a man gauche and you imply that he is awkward and clumsy, generally in a figurative rather than a physical sense. (You see we’re right back to our traditional misconception that left-handed people are less skillful than right-handed ones.) A gauche remark is tactless; a gauche offer of sympathy is so bumbling as to be embarrassing; a person’s gaucherie refers to his awkward, clumsy, tactless, embarrassing way of saying things or handling situations. The gauche person is totally without finesse.

Watch your pronunciation of these two words—they’re French and they preserve a certain Gallic flavor. Say GO, then quickly add sh: GO-sh. The noun is pronounced GO-she-ree.

And the French word for the right hand is droit, which we have used in building our English word adroit. Needless to say, adroit, like dexterous, means skillful, but especially in the exercise of the mental faculties. Like gauche, adroit, or its noun adroitness, usually is used figuratively. The adroit person is quick-witted, can get out of difficult spots cleverly, can handle situations ingeniously. Adroitness is, then, quite the opposite of gaucherie.

2. love, hate, and marriage

Misanthrope, misogynist, and misogamist are built on the Greek stem miseo, to hate. The misanthrope hates mankind (Greek anthropos, man); the misogynist hates women (Greek gyne, woman); the misogamist hates marriage (Greek gamos, marriage). Anthropos, mankind, is also found in anthropology, the study of the human race, and in philanthropist, one who loves mankind and shows his love by writing out big checks or by other charitable services.

Gyne, woman, is found in gynecologist, the doctor who treats those ailments peculiar to women, such as pregnancy, tumor of the uterus, tipped womb, menstrual disorders, and other feminine mysteries.

And gamos, marriage, occurs in monogamy, bigamy, and polygamy. Monogamy is the system of having one mate (at a time), often referred to by jokesters as monotony; bigamy is the legal offense of incurring a further marital obligation without having liquidated the previous one; and polygamy is the delightful but somewhat chaotic custom, practiced at one time by the Mormons of Utah and before them by King Solomon, of having as many wives as a man can afford financially and put up with emotionally.

Another form of misanthrope is misanthropist. The philosophy itself is called misanthropy, the adjective is misanthropic.

The philosophy of the misogynist is misogyny, the adjective is either misogynistic or misogynous. The misogamist practices misogamy and is misogamous.

3. living alone and liking it

Ascetic is from a Greek word asketes, monk or hermit. (The philosophy is asceticism.)

A monk lives a lonely life—not for him the pleasures of the fleshpots, the laughter and merriment of convivial gatherings, the dissipation of high living. Rather, days of contemplation, study, and rough toil, nights on a hard bed in a simple cell, and the kind of self-denial which leads to a purification of the soul.

That man is an ascetic who leads an existence, voluntarily of course, which compares in austerity, simplicity, and rigorous hardship with the life of a monk. The late Mahatma Gandhi is a perfect example of a believer in asceticism.

USING THE WORDS: III

I suppose you feel that it is time to come up for air again. Actually, this chapter is not so chock-full as it may at first seem. We have discussed only seven roots, and all the new words that we picked up along the way either directly stem from these roots or are merely other forms of the basic ten words discussed in the first part of the chapter.

Let us review the seven roots.

1. ego, I

EXAMPLES: ego, self-concept; egocentric, self-centered; egomania, self-madness

2. dexter, right hand

EXAMPLES: ambidextrous, both hands right hands; dexterous, skillful (right handed)

3. anthropos, mankind

EXAMPLES: anthropology, study of mankind; philanthropy, love of mankind

4. gyne, woman

EXAMPLE: gynecology, study of woman’s diseases

5. gamos, marriage

EXAMPLES: monogamy, one marriage; bigamy, two (or more) marriages, contrary to law; polygamy, many marriages, following social custom

6. misein, hatred

EXAMPLES: misanthropy, hatred of mankind; misogyny, hatred of women; misogamy, hatred of marriage

7. alter, other

EXAMPLES: altruism, love for others; to alter, change for some other; alter ego, other self

As you see, it’s really not half so confusing as you may have thought. Review for a moment the words that come from our seven roots, refreshing your memory from the body of the text if necessary. You will then be ready for your tests.

Can you pronounce the words?

Say each word aloud, following the phonetic respelling.

1. ambidextrous

am-bi-DEKS-trus

2. ambidexterity

am-bi-deks-TER-i-tee

3. dexterous

DEKS-truss

4. dexterity

deks-TER-i-tee

5. sinister

SIN-is-ter

*6. gauche

GO-sh

*7. gaucherie

GO-she-ree

8. adroit

a-DROYT

9. adroitness

a-DROYT-ness

10. anthropology

an-thro-POL-o-jee

11. philanthropist

fil-AN-thro-pist

*12. gynecologist

gyne-e-KOL-o-jist

13. monogamy

mo-NOG-o-mee

14. bigamy

BIG-a-mee

15. polygamy

po-LIG-a-mee

*16. misanthropist

mis-AN-thro-pist

*17. misanthropy

mis-AN-thro-pee

*18. misanthropic

mis-an-THROP-ik

*19. misogyny

mi-SAHDGE-i-nee

*20. misogynous

mi-SAHDGE-in-us

*21. misogynistic

mi-SAHDGE-in-is-tik

*22. misogamy

mi-SOG-a-mee

*23. misogamous

mi-SOG-a-mus

*24. asceticism

a-SET-i-sizm

Can you work with the words? (I)

As before, to check on your comprehension, see how successfully you can match words and meanings.

1. ambidextrous

a. evil, threatening

2. dexterous

b. hating mankind

3. sinister

c. skillful

4. gauche

d. awkward

5. misanthropic

e. capable of using both hands with equal skill

KEY: 1—e, 2—c, 3—a, 4—d, 5—b

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. anthropology

a. system of only one marriage

2. gynecology

b. hatred of women

3. monogamy

c. illegal plurality of marriages

4. bigamy

d. study of human development

5. misogyny

e. study of female ailments

KEY: 1—d, 2—e, 3—a, 4—c, 5—b

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. polygamy

a. devotion to lonely and austere life

2. misogamy

b. skill, cleverness

3. asceticism

c. custom in which one man has many wives

4. philanthropy

d. love of mankind

5. adroitness

e. hatred of marriage

KEY: 1—c, 2—e, 3—a, 4—d, 5—b

Do you understand the words?

By now, if you see these words used in sentences, you should be able to respond immediately to their meanings. Answer the following questions without referring to the definitions in previous pages.

Can you recall the words?

Now let us see how successfully you can react to a definition with one of the words you have just studied. Consider it a proof of your successful learning if you can fill in most of the blanks without further reference to previous lists. Let the initial letter guide your thinking.

CHAPTER REVIEW

Do you recognize the words?

Check the word that most closely fits each definition.

1. Puts his own desires first:

(a) egoist, (b) egotist, (c) altruist

2. Is self-analytical:

(a) extrovert, (b) introvert, (c) ambivert

3. Hates women:

(a) misogamist, (b) misanthrope, (c) misogynist

4. One’s other self:

(a) altercation, (b) alter ego, (c) alteration

5. Awkward, clumsy:

(a) adroit, (b) dexterous, (c) gauche

6. Custom of having a plurality of wives:

(a) bigamy, (b) polygamy, (c) monogamy

7. Study of human development:

(a) asceticism, (b) philanthropy, (c) anthropology

KEY: 1—a, 2—b, 3—c, 4—b, 5—c, 6—b, 7—c

GAINING MOMENTUM

There you are—in one short evening of, I trust, not too unpleasant work, you have become acquainted with scores of new, vital, exciting words. You understand the ideas behind these words, their various forms and spellings, their pronunciation, their derivation, how they can be used, and exactly what they mean. I do not wish to press a point unduly, but it is likely that you have learned as many new words in the short time it took you to cover this chapter as the average adult learns in an entire year. This realization should make you feel both gratified and excited—sufficiently gratified and excited, I hope, to keep right on if you have the time, or come back at the very next available moment.

Funny thing about time. Aside from the fact that Arnold Bennett pointed out, namely, that we all, rich or poor, sick or well, have the same amount of time, exactly twenty-four hours every day (that is looking at time from a static point of view), it is also true that we can always find time for the things we enjoy doing, almost never for the things we find unpleasant (and that is looking at time from the dynamic point of view). I am not merely being philosophical—I am sure that you will agree with this concept if you give it a little thought. And if you have enjoyed working with this book so far, make a habit of sticking with it for as long as you can and returning to it as often as you can. Especially in the beginning—for once you gain momentum, you’ll coast right along with little trouble.

* Starred words throughout the book are demons in so far as their pronunciation is concerned—be especially careful to get them right.

* A book-reviewer, taking for granted that his readers were familiar with the etymology of the words, once remarked about a mystery-story writer: “Indeed, he is particularly dexterous when he is most sinister.”

BRIEF INTERMISSION ONE:
TEST YOUR GRAMMAR

How good is your English? Have you ever said me and then wondered if it shouldn’t have been I—or vice versa? Do you sometimes get a little confused about lay and lie or who and whom? Perhaps you are often a little less than certain about the distinction between effect and affect, principal and principle, childish and childlike?

Here is a series of quick tests that will show you how skillful you are in using the right word in the right place, that will give you a reliable indication of how your language ability compares with the average.

TEST I—EASY

If your English is every bit as good as average, you will have no difficulty making a proper choice in at least eight of the following ten sentences.

1. There is a beautiful moon out tonight and Estelle and I are going for a stroll—would you like to come along with (she and I, her and me?)

2. Your husband doesn’t believe that you are older than (I, me).

3. Maybe we’re not as rich as (they, them), but I bet we’re a lot happier.

4. Does your child still (lay, lie) down for a nap after lunch?

5. When we saw Mary openly flirting with Nellie’s husband, we (could, couldn’t) hardly believe our eyes.

6. You should (of, have) cooked the stew much longer—it’s still quite tough.

7. Does your husband (leave, let) you spend your household money as freely as you’d like?

8. Harriet feels that most (mothers-in-law, mother-in-laws) are impossible to get along with.

9. “What (kind of, kind of a) dress are you looking for?” asked the salesgirl.

10. Mrs. White was delighted that the Fennells had invited Saul and (she, her) to their party.

Is your English up to par? HERE ARE THE CORRECT ANSWERS

1—her and me, 2—I, 3—they, 4—lie, 5—could, 6—have, 7—let, 8—mothers-in-law, 9—kind of, 10—her

TEST II—HARDER

Choose wisely in at least seven of the following problems to consider that your skill is distinctly above average—get all ten right to conclude that you rarely, if ever, make an error in grammar.

1. What (effect, affect) has the war had on juvenile delinquency?

2. Marriage, say some philosophers, is the (principle, principal) goal of most women.

3. There’s no sense (in, of) carrying on that way just because your child won’t eat his spinach.

4. She can’t remember (who, whom) it was.

5. The child (lay, laid) quietly sucking its thumb.

6. No one but (she, her) ever objected to his attitude.

7. The judge sentenced the murderer to be (hanged, hung).

8. Neither of Bill’s sisters (has, have) had much luck in snaring a husband.

9. Either the sugar or milk (go, goes) into the batter next.

10. The doctor will speak to (whoever, whomever) came in first.

Is your speech above average?—HERE ARE THE CORRECT ANSWERS

1—effect, 2—principal, 3—in, 4—who, 5—lay, 6—her, 7—hanged, 8—has, 9—goes, 10—whoever

TEST III—VERY HARD

Now you can discover how close you are to being an expert in English. The next ten sentences are no cinch—you will be acquitting yourself creditably if you check the correct word in more than half of them. And you have every right to consider yourself the possessor of unusual linguistic ability if you manage to come to a proper conclusion in nine or ten of the problems.

1. Although Martin was once a confirmed bachelor, he has finally found in Alice a girl (who, whom) he thinks will make a perfect wife.

2. Ironically enough, Alice is one of those women who (believes believe) that the success of any marriage depends entirely on the husband.

3. Martin was particularly attracted by Alice’s (childish, childlike) charm and innocence.

4. Although Martin is a student of world problems, Alice is totally (uninterested, disinterested) in foreign affairs.

5. This recipe calls for two (spoonsful, spoonfuls) of vanilla.

6. Are you trying to (infer, imply) by those words that he is unworthy of her?

7. We thought the actress to be (she, her), but we weren’t sure.

8. Was it (she, her) you were talking about?

9. The data on the divorce case (is, are) on the judge’s desk.

10. “It is I who (is, am) the only friend you’ve got,” she told him pointedly.

Are you an expert? HERE ARE THE CORRECT ANSWERS

1—who, 2—believe, 3—childlike, 4—uninterested, 5—spoonfuls, 6—imply, 7—her, 8—she, 9—are, 10—am

4

HOW TO TALK ABOUT DOCTORS

TEASER PREVIEW

What is the title of the doctor who:

• is a specialist in diagnosis?

• treats female ailments?

• delivers babies?

• specializes in the treatment of childhood diseases?

• treats skin disorders?

• is an eye surgeon?

• is a specialist in heart ailments?

• is a specialist in nerve disorders?

• treats sick minds?

THE FAMILY doctor is becoming practically extinct—especially in large urban areas. At one time if you felt ill you “went to the doctor.” Now you go to a specialist, depending on which part of your anatomy seems to be affected.

In this chapter we discuss the functions of ten medical specialists—what they do, how they do it, what their titles are.

IDEAS

1. what’s wrong with you?

His specialty is finding out what ails you—and why. To arrive at a diagnosis, he’ll give you a thoroughgoing and exhaustive examination, from head to foot, inside and out. And for this purpose he will use an impressive array of tests and apparatus: X ray, fluoroscope, blood count, urinalysis, cardiogram, and so on.

This doctor is an internist.

2. female troubles?

This man’s practice is restricted to females, and more specifically to those ailments peculiar to women which were detailed in Chapter 3.

This doctor is a gynecologist.

3. having a baby?

He delivers babies and takes care of the mother during and immediately after the period of her pregnancy.

This doctor is an obstetrician.

4. is your baby ill?

Infancy and childhood are heir to unique diseases of their own. You know the usual childhood maladies—mumps, whooping cough, chicken pox, measles, and the rest. Here is a man who limits his practice to youngsters, taking care of babies directly after birth, watching their diets and growth, giving them the series of inoculations that has done so much to decrease infant mortality, and soothing their worried parents.

This doctor is a pediatrician.

5. skin clear?

You have heard the classic riddle: “What is the best use for pigskin?” Answer: ‘To keep the pig together.” Human skin has a similar purpose: It is, if we get down to fundamentals, what keeps us all in one piece. And our outer covering, like so many of our internal organs, is subject to diseases and infections of various kinds, running the gamut from simple acne and eczemas through impetigo, to syphilis, to cancer. And there is a man whose speciality is the treatment of all such ailments.

This doctor is a dermatologist.

6. how is your vision?

His field is the eye and all the disorders connected with it: Imperfect vision, myopia, astigmatism, cataracts, et cetera. He may prescribe glasses, administer drugs, or perform surgery.

This doctor is an oculist.

7. how are your bones?

His area of specialization is the skeletal structure of the body; he treats various deformities such as clubfoot, curvature of the spine, dislocation of the hip, et cetera. He is a surgeon, and may correct a condition either by operating or by the use of braces or other appliances.

This doctor is an orthopedist.

8. does your heart go pitter-patter?

With diseases of the heart still (1949) the number-one killer of humanity, it is not surprising that one of the medical specialists deals with the treatment of that vital organ.

This doctor is a cardiologist.

9. are you nervous?

He specializes in afflictions that arise from improper functioning of the nervous system—cerebral palsy, “tics,” strokes, et cetera.

This doctor is a neurologist.

10. are you neurotic?

It is a far cry today from the attitude we took not so many generations back: “Does this man seem slightly daft, a little peculiar? The devil’s got him, so lock him up in a dark dungeon and beat him until he is better.”

In this modern age we have what we consider more scientific and enlightened means of treating disorders of the mind or personality—drugs, electric and insulin-shock therapy, operations on the brain to sever one or more nerves (this technique has the formidable name of frontal lobotomy), and the recognition, thanks to Freud, of the influence of the “unconscious mind” and of childhood experiences on future behavior.

After receiving his M.D. degree, a physician may take further training and specialize in the treatment of mental and emotional disorders, ranging from comparatively mild personality disturbances to full-blown insanity.

This doctor is a psychiatrist.

Anatomically speaking, let us see how our medical specialists line up.

DOCTOR

AREA OF SPECIALTY

1. internist

the body as a whole

2. gynecologist

female organs

3. obstetrioian

delivery of babies

4. pediatrician

treatment of infants

5. dermatologist

skin

6. oculist

eyes

7. orthopedist

bones

8. cardiologist

heart

9. neurologist

nerves

10. psychiatrist

mind

USING THE WORDS: I

Now that you are familiar with the ideas behind our basic ten words, spend a few minutes doing the exercises that will lead to complete mastery.

Can you pronounce the words?

Words take on a new color if you hear them in your own voice; they begin to belong to you more personally, more intimately, than if you merely hear or read them. As a first step in complete mastery, say the following words aloud.

1. internist

in-TURN-ist

*2. gynecologist

gyne-e-KOL-o-jist

3. obstetrician

obs-te-TRISH-in

4. pediatrician

pee-dee-a-TRISH-in

5. dermatologist

derm-a-TOL-o-jist

6. oculist

OK-yoo-list

*7. orthopedist

or-tho-PEE-dist

8. cardiologist

car-dee-OL-o-jist

9. neurologist

noo-ROL-o-jist

*10. psychiatrist

sye-KYE-a-trist

Can you work with the words?

Match each doctor to his field.

Fields

Specialists

1. mental or emotional disturbances

a. internist

2. nerves

b. gynecologist

3. skin

c. obstetrician

4. diagnosis

d. pediatrician

5. infants

e. dermatologist

6. female complaints

f. oculist

7. eyes

g. orthopedist

8. heart

h. cardiologist

9. pregnancy

i. neurologist

10. bones

j. psychiatrist

KEY: 1—j, 2—i, 3—e, 4—a, 5—d, 6—b, 7—f, 8—h, 9—c, 10—g

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to the following questions.

Can you recall the words?

Write the name of the specialist you would visit for each of the following ailments or reasons.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: I

1. inside you

Internist and internal come of course from the same source, a Latin root meaning inside. The internist is a specialist in internal medicine, in the exploration of your insides. He determines the state of your various organs and discovers what’s happening within your body to cause the troubles you’re complaining of.

Do not confuse the internist with the intern, who is a young medical graduate serving his hospital apprenticeship before starting his own private practice.

2. women again

The specialist in female ills, the gynecologist, derives his title from the Greek gyne, woman, from which source comes also misogynist, the woman hater, a word we discussed in Chapter 3. This doctor’s specialty is gynecology; the adjective form is gynecological, as in “the gynecological cause of her troubles.”

Though it must be a thorn in the side of every obstetrician who is aware of it, his medical title is derived from the Latin word obstetrix, midwife. Obstetrix is from a verb meaning to stand before—doubtless in allusion to the fact that midwives stand before the delivering woman, ready to catch the infant as it comes out. Indeed, it is still a wry (and of course highly inaccurate) medical joke that the only instrument an obstetrician needs is a big basket. Obstetrics is only recently a respectable calling—no further back than 1834, Professor William P. Dewees assumed the first chair of obstetrics at the University of Pennsylvania and had to brave considerable medical contempt and ridicule as a result—the delivery of children was then considered beneath the dignity of the profession. Even today (1949) it is estimated that one hundred thousand mothers yearly are delivered without obstetrical attention.

3. children

In pediatrician, the stem is ped—but don’t let it mislead you. It’s not the same ped you see in pedestal, pedal, or pedestrian. The root in these three words means foot, and comes from Latin; but the ped in pediatrician is a respelling of the Greek word paidos, child. Pediatrics, the specialty of the pediatrician, is the healing of a child.

Paidos (usually respelled ped), then, means child. And pedagogy, which combines paidos with agogos, leading, is, strictly, the leading of a child. And to what do you lead a child? You lead him to learning, to development, to growth, to maturity. From the moment of his birth, an infant is led by an adult—he is taught, first by parents and then by teachers, to be self-sufficient, to fit into the society in which he is born. Hence, pedagogy, which by strict derivation means the leading of a child, refers actually to the principles and methods of teaching. College students majoring in education take certain standard pedagogy courses—the history of education; education psychology; the psychology of adolescents; principles of teaching; et cetera.

One who teaches is versed in pedagogy—he is, in short, a pedagogue. But pedagogue has had an unhappy history. From its original, neutral, meaning of teacher, it has deteriorated to the point where it refers, today, to a narrow-minded, strait-laced, old-fashioned, dogmatic teacher. It is a word of contempt and should be used with caution.

Like pedagogue, demagogue has also deteriorated in meaning. In derivation a leader (agogos) of the people (demos), a demagogue today is actually one who attempts to mislead the people. He is a politician who foments discontent among the voters, promises them all sorts of rewards if they will help him gain power, though he actually plans to use this political power to further his own personal fortunes. “Leaders of the people” like Hitler, Mussolini, and Huey Long come readily to mind—such figures can be accused of demagoguery.

4. skin-deep

The dermatologist, whose specialty is dermatology, is so named from the Greek derma, skin. See the syllables derma in any English word and you will know there is some reference to skin—for example, a hypodermic needle penetrates under (hypo) the skin; the epidermis is the outermost layer of skin; a taxidermist (his business is taxidermy) is one who prepares, stuffs, and mounts the skins of animals; a pachyderm is an animal with an unusually thick skin, like an elephant or a rhinoceros; and dermatitis is the general name for any skin inflamation, irritation, or infection. Every dermatologist is also a syphilologist, since syphilis, while actually an infection of the blood stream, first manifests itself in the form of a skin eruption.

5. the eyes have it

The oculist deals with eyes; his title should, logically, derive from a root meaning eye. You will be happy to know that it does—from the Latin oculus. We hear this root also in the adjective ocular, pertaining to the eye; monocle, a lens for one (mono) eye sported by traditional Englishmen of the so-called upper-class; binoculars, field glasses which increase the range of our two (bi) eyes; and, strangely enough, inoculate, a word commonly misspelled with two n’s. When you are inoculated against a disease, say diphtheria, an “eye” or bud is made in your skin, through which the serum is injected by means of a hypodermic.

The oculist practices ophthalmology, the scientific name for the study and treatment of eye diseases. Most oculists prefer to be known by the title ophthalmologist, perhaps because this word is practically unpronounceable, and hence seems considerably more dignified, not to say more elegant, than oculist.

The oculist or ophthalmologist should not be confused with two other practitioners whose business is with the eye—the optometrist and optician.

The optometrist, who is not a physician, is not permitted by law to perform operations or to administer drugs—his activities are largely restricted to prescribing and fitting glasses. The optician is even further restricted—he may only fill an optometrist’s or ophthalmologist’s prescription, grinding lenses according to specifications; he does not examine a patient. Many optometrists grind lenses, either according to their own prescription or according to the prescription brought to them from an ophthalmologist. Both the optometrist and the oculist are college-trained—the optician need not be. Only the oculist (or ophthalmologist) is a medical doctor.

USING THE WORDS: II

Our exploration of roots and related forms has turned up twenty-five new words. Let’s review the major ones rapidly.

1. intern—a graduate of medical school serving his apprenticeship in a hospital

2. gynecology—the treatment of female ills

3. obstetrics—the delivery of babies

4. pediatrics—the medical specialty restricted to the care of infants and the curing of children’s diseases

5. pedagogy—principles of teaching

6. pedagogue—term of contempt for a teacher

7. demagogue—one who stirs up discontent among the masses so he can gain political power

8. demagoguery—the specialty of the demagogue

9. dermatology—medical specialty restricted to the treatment of skin diseases

10. hypodermic—a needle for penetrating under the skin

11. epidermis—outer layer of skin

12. taxidermy—the stuffing and mounting of the skins of animals

13. pachyderm—elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, et cetera

14. dermatitis—skin inflammation

15. syphilologist—medical doctor who specializes in the treatment of syphilis

16. ocular—pertaining to the eye

17. monocle—one-lens eyeglass

18. ophthalmologist—eye doctor

19. optometrist—practitioner who prescribes and fits glasses

20. optician—dealer in optical goods; grinder of optical lenses

These words are related either in etymology or meaning to six of our basic ten words, and can therefore be learned quickly, understood without difficulty, and remembered without undue strain. To test the success of your learning, try the following tests.

Can you pronounce the words?

1. intern

IN-tum

*2. gynecology

gye-ne-KOL-o-jee

3. obstetrics

ob-STET-riks

4. obstetrical

ob-STET-ri-k’l

*5. pediatrics

pe-de-AT-riks

6. pedagogy

PED-a-go-jee

*7. pedagogical

ped-a-GODGE-i-k’l

8. pedagogue

PED-a-gog

9. demagogue

DEM-a-gog

*10. demagoguery

dem-a-GOG-a-ree

*11. pachyderm

PAK-i-durm

12. hypodermic

hy-po-DUR-mik

13. epidermis

ep-i-DUR-mis

14. taxidermist

tax-i-DUR-mist

*15. dermatitis

dur-ma-TYE-tis

16. syphilologist

siff-i-LOLL-o-jist

17. taxidermy

TAX-i-dur-mee

18. ocular

OK-yoo-ler

19. monocle

MON-i-k’l

20. binoculars

bi-NOK-you-lerz

21. inoculate

i-NOK-yoo-layt

*22. ophthalmology

off-thal-MOL-o-jee

*23. ophthalmologist

off-thal-MOL-o-jist

24. optometrist

op-TOM-e-trist

25. optician

op-TISH-un

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and meanings.

1. gynecology

a. principles of teaching

2. obstetrics

b. stuffing of skins of animals

3. pediatrics

c. specialty dealing with the delivery of newborn infants

4. pedagogy

d. stirring up discontent among the masses

5. demagoguery

e. treatment of skin diseases

6. dermatology

f. specialty dealing with women’s diseases

7. taxidermy

g. specialty dealing with the treatment of children

KEY: 1—f, 2—c, 3—g, 4—a, 5—d, 6—e, 7—b

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. hypodermic

a. elephant

2. epidermis

b. eye doctor

3. pachyderm

c. needle

4. dermatitis

d. one who prescribes glasses

5. ophthalmologist

e. lens grinder

6. optometrist

f. skin

7. optician

g. inflammation

KEY: 1—c, 2—f, 3—a, 4—g, 5—b, 6—d, 7—e

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to the following questions.

Can you recall the words?

Supply the proper word for each brief definition.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: II

1. lay them straight

The orthopedist, or bone surgeon, is so called from the Greek roots ortho, straighten, and paidos, child, the same paidos we met in pediatrician. The orthopedist straightens bone deformities, in children primarily, because childhood, the period when the bones are soft and pliable, is the best time for such corrections. His specialty is orthopedics. Ortho is also found in orthodontia, the straightening of teeth. The dentist who specializes in improving your “bite,” retracting “buck teeth,” and by means of braces and other techniques seeing to it that every molar, incisor, bicuspid, et cetera is exactly where it belongs in your mouth is an orthodontist.

Incidentally, words like obstetrics, pediatrics, and orthopedics, though they end in “s” are used as singulars. For example, “Obstetrics is usually a remunerative calling,” and “Pediatrics is a comparatively new specialty.”

2. good for the heart

The card in cardiologist of course means heart, and is from the Greek. A sufferer from a cardiac condition has heart trouble, and a cardiogram is an electrically produced record of the beats of the heart. The instrument which produces this record is called a cardiograph.

3. good for the nerves

In neurologist, the first two syllables come from the Greek root neuron, nerve. Neuralgia is acute pain along the nerves and their branches; neuritis is inflammation of the nerves, just as dermatitis is inflammation of the skin; neurasthenia is an emotional condition, rather than a physical one—the neurasthenic patient is worried, “nervous,” depressed, emotionally exhausted; and neurosis, still from the same Greek word for nerve is best described by a psychiatrist, since it is an emotional disturbance. Dr. Eric Berne defines neurosis in his excellent book, The Mind in Action, as follows: “An illness characterized by excessive use of energy for unproductive purposes so that personality development is hindered or stopped. A man who spends most of his time worrying about his health, counting his money, plotting revenge, or wash ing his hands, can hope for little emotional growth.” The victim of a neurosis is called neurotic.

Bear in mind that a neurosis is not a form of insanity or mental unbalance. A full-blown mental disorder is called a psychosis.

Thus egoism, which we discussed in Chapter 3, is simply a symptom of lack of adjustment; in a more aggravated and unpleasant form it is egocentricity, and is then a neurosis; and if it is sufficiently pronounced to be egomania, it is a psychosis. Many of us are neurotic, but except for the unhappiness that our neurosis may cause ourselves and others, we can manage to live fairly comfortable lives. When we are psychotic, however, we are no longer able to carry on our everyday affairs in a normal fashion—we must then be treated by a psychiatrist or perhaps we must even be institutionalized.

The word psychiatrist combines psyche, Greek for mind, with iatreia, healing. The psychiatrist is a doctor who heals sick minds. The specialty is psychiatry—the adjective is psychiatric. The clearest definition of psychiatry that I have ever seen appears in Dr. William C. Menninger’s Psychiatry: Its Evolution and Present Status (1948), to wit: “Psychiatry (is) that branch of clinical medicine which concerns itself with the diagnosis, treatment, and prevention of personality disorders. . . .” Since neuroses and psychoses are both personality disorders, we might also say that the practice of psychiatry concerns itself with the diagnosis, et cetera, of neuroses and psychoses.

USING THE WORDS: III

Before you start the exercises on the new words we have uncovered, you may wish to refresh your mind on some of the roots.

1. gyne, woman

EXAMPLES: gynecology, misogynist

2. paidos, child

EXAMPLES: pediatrician, orthopedics

3. derma, skin

EXAMPLES: dermatology, hypodermic, taxidermy, dermatitis

4. agogos, leader

EXAMPLES: pedagogue, demagogue

5. oculos, eye

EXAMPLES: oculist, ocular, monocle, binoculars, inoculate

6. ortho, change

EXAMPLES: orthopedics, orthodontia

7. card, heart

EXAMPLES: cardiologist, cardiac, cardiogram, cardiograph

8. neuron, nerve

EXAMPLES: neuralgia, neuritis, neurasthenia, neurosis

9. psyche, mind

EXAMPLES: psychiatry, psychosis

Can you pronounce the words?

1. orthopedics

or-tho-PEE-diks

2. orthodontist

or-tho-DON-tist

*3. orthodontia

or-tho-DON-sha

4. cardiac

KAR-dee-ak

5. cardiogram

KAR-dee-o-gram

6. cardiograph

KAR-dee-o-graff

7. neuralgia

noo-RAL-ja

8. neuritis

noo-RYE-tis

9. neurasthenia

noo-ras-THEE-ne-a

*10. neurasthenic

noo-ras-THEN-ik

11. neurosis

noo-RO-sis

12. neurotic

noo-ROT-ik

13. psychosis

sye-KO-sis

*14. psychiatry

si-KYE-a-tree

*15. psychiatric

sye-kee-AT-rik

16. psychotic

sye-KOT-ik

Do you understand the words?

Some of the words we have been working with will now be used in meaningful statements. Check your understanding of the meanings of these words by determining whether each statement is true or false.

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and definitions.

1. orthopedics

a. nerve pain

2. orthodontia

b. emotional disturbance

3. neuralgia

c. straightening of teeth

4. neuritis

d. nerve inflammation

5. neurasthenia

e. treatment of skeletal deformities

KEY: 1—e, 2—c, 3—a, 4—d, 5—b

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. cardiogram

a. record of heart beats

2. cardiograph

b. mental unbalance

3. neurosis

c. emotional disturbance

4. psychosis

d. treatment of personality disorders

5. psychiatry

e. instrument for recording heart beats

KEY: 1—a, 2—e, 3—c, 4—b, 5—d

Can you, recall the words?

Without further reference to the words which you have now read about and pronounced aloud, can you write the one which properly fits each of the following quick definitions?

CHAPTER REVIEW

Can you recognize the words?

Check the word that most closely fits each definition.

1. Specialist in female ailments:

(a) obstetrician, (b) gynecologist, (c) dermatologist

2. Specialist in children’s diseases:

(a) orthopedist, (b) pediatrician, (c) internist

3. Specialist in eye diseases:

(a) cardiologist, (b) oculist, (c) optician

4. Specialist in mental disorders:

(a) neurologist, (b) demagogue, (c) psychiatrist

5. Study of eye diseases:

(a) taxidermy, (b) optometry, (c) ophthalmology

6. Straightening of teeth:

(a) orthodontia, (b) orthopedics, (c) neurasthenia

7. Personality disorder:

(a) neuritis, (b) neuralgia, (c) neurosis

8. Mentally unbalanced:

(a) neurotic, (b) psychotic, (c) cardiac

9. Principles of teaching:

(a) demagoguery, (b) pedagogy, (c) psychosis

KEY: 1—b, 2—b, 3—b, 4—c, 5—c, 6—a, 7—c, 8—b, 9—b

TWO REQUISITES FOR WORD MASTERY

Not to digress too much, let me ask you to think for a moment about authors.

Everyone has a book in him—only a comparatively few people ever write that book.

Why? Lack of ability? Poor vocabulary? Not enough time? These are the obvious reasons—and every one of them is insufficient.

The only true, the only possible, reason is lack of discipline or lack of patience—or both.

Similarly, everyone can have a superior vocabulary. Our language is full of words (almost 650,000 at last count), and the words are full of ideas, and no one has a monopoly or a copyright on any of them. Yet many adults are verbal cripples, are mentally undernourished, use and know and recognize barely one and one half times as many words as the average ten-year-old.

Again, why? Lack of discipline, lack of patience—or both!

The work you will do in these pages can change your life—and I am not exaggerating for effect.

But you need discipline and patience.

To gain such discipline and patience, consider that day lost in which you do not spend at least some time using this book to improve your vocabulary—even if it is as little as one hour. Continue working as long as your time and energy permit—and never put the book down without deciding exactly when you will return to it.

There will be periods of difficulty—then is the time to exert the greatest discipline, the greatest patience. I won’t pretend that any part of this book is as easy as an adventure novel—but I do insist that every page in it can help you attain a mastery over words.

And mastery over words is often the most distinguishing difference between the mediocre mind and the alert mind.

The material for such mastery is in your hands—the rest is up to you.

BRIEF INTERMISSION TWO:
WHY GRAMMAR IS CONFUSING

English grammar is confusing enough as it is—what makes it doubly confounding is that, like women’s fashions, it is constantly changing.

This means that some of the strict rules which you memorized so painfully in your high-school or college English courses may no longer be completely valid. In other words, you may be knocking yourself out in an attempt to speak perfect English, and yet only achieve, at best, the doubtful distinction of sounding stuffy and pedantic.

The problem boils down to this: If grammar is becoming more liberal from one generation to another, what is the state of the language as of 1949? Where does educated, unaffected speech end? And where does illiterate, ungrammatical speech begin?

The following notes on current trends in modern usage are intended to help you come to a decision about certain controversial expressions. As you read each sentence, pay particular attention to the italicized word or words. Does the usage square with your own language patterns? Would you be willing to phrase your thought in just such terms? Decide whether the sentence is right or wrong, then compare your conclusion with the opinion given in the explanatory paragraphs that follow the test.

TEST YOURSELF

1. If she drinks too many dry martinis, she’ll surely get sick.

RIGHT. This expression is established, it’s correct, it’s completely cultivated. The puristic objection is that get has only one meaning—namely, obtain. However, as any dictionary will attest, get has scores of different meanings, one of the most respectable of which is become. You can get tired, get dizzy, get drunk, or get sick—and your choice of words will offend no one but a pedant.

2. Have you got a dollar?

RIGHT. If purists get a little pale at the sound of get sick, they turn chalk white when they hear have got as a substitute for have. But the fact is that have got is an established American form of expression. Jacques Barzun of Columbia University, the noted author and literary critic, says: “Have you got is good idiomatic English—I use it in speech without thinking about it and would write it if colloquialism seemed appropriate to the passage.”

There is no doubt that this idiom is well-established in educated speech and writing. Harper’s Magazine used it not long ago as a title for one of its articles: “Taft—Is This The Best We’ve Got”; and Bernard De Voto writing in the same periodical, asked: “How much privilege of corrupting literature has radio got?” (Note: Harper’s is one of the so-called “class” or “literary” magazines. If an expression is good enough for Harper’s, it’s good enough for the common people.)

3. No one loves you except I.

WRONG. For best results, use me after except. This problem is troublesome because, to the unsophisticated, the sentence sounds as if it can be completed to “No one loves you, except I do,” but current educated usage adheres to the technical rule that a preposition (except) governs an objective pronoun (me).

4. Please lay down.

WRONG. Liberal as grammar has become in the last thirty years, there is still no sanction for using lay with the meaning of recline. You lie happily in bed waiting for your husband to bring up your breakfast; and when he arrives he lays the tray on the night table. Lay, then, means to place; lie means to rest or recline.

5. Who do you love?

RIGHT. “The English language shows some disposition to get rid of whom altogether, and unquestionably it would be a better language with whom gone.” So wrote Janet Rankin Aiken, of Columbia University, in 1936. Today, many years later, the “disposition” has become a full-fledged force. A few months ago Life magazine ran an advertisement in the grammatically conservative New York Times. The headline was bold and linguistically modern, to wit: “Who will you meet in this week’s LIFE?” And New York Post editorial writer Samuel Grafton, who certainly knows as much grammar as the next fellow, shows the same partiality toward the more popular who. This question is from one of his recent columns: “If we don’t recognize Judea, who are we going to recognize?”

The rules for who and whom are pretty complicated. Follow them strictly if you have the time and inclination; on the other hand, if you prefer to use the democratic who for informal, everyday speech, and hang the stuffy precepts of grammar, go right ahead. You’ll be speaking good, idiomatic English.

6. Neither of these dresses give you that Lana Turner look.

WRONG. The temptation to use a plural verb in this sentence is, I admit, practically irresistible. However, “neither of” means “neither one of” and the singular verb gives is the preferable form.

7. The murderer was hung at dawn.

WRONG. A distinction is made, in cultivated speech, between hung and hanged. A picture is hung, but a man is hanged—that is, if such action is intended to bring about his untimely and unhappy demise.

8. Mother, can I go out to play?

RIGHT. If you insist that your child say may, and nothing but may, when asking for permission, modern parents may consider you old-fashioned and puristic. Can is not discourteous, incorrect, or vulgar—and the newest editions of the authoritative dictionaries fully sanction the use of can in requesting rights, privileges, or permission. Anyway, present-day psychological thinking warns against correcting a child’s English even when he makes a real mistake—which this assuredly is not.

9. Take two spoonsful of this medicine every three hours.

WRONG. There is a strange affection, on the part of people who are unduly word-conscious, for the expressions spoonsful and cupsful, even though spoonsful and cupsful do not exist as actual words. The only acceptable plurals are spoonfuls and cupfuls. I am taking for granted, of course, that you are using one spoon or cup and filling it the required number of times. If, for secret reasons of your own, you prefer to take your medicine in two separate spoons, you may then properly speak of “two spoons full (not spoonsful) of medicine.”

10. Your words seem to infer that Marie is trying to steal your husband.

WRONG. It is as incorrect to use infer with the meaning of hint or suggest as it is unethical to steal some one else’s husband. The proper word for this sentence would be imply—infer means to draw a conclusion.

11. I will be happy to go to the dance with you.

RIGHT. In informal speech, you need no longer worry about the delicate and unrealistic distinctions between shall and will. The theory of modern grammarians is that shall-will differences were simply invented out of whole cloth by the textbook writers of the 1800s. Professor Gustav Arlt, editor of the scholarly Modern Language Forum at the University of California, points out: “The artificial distinction between shall and will to designate futurity is a superstition that has neither a basis in historical grammar nor the sound sanction of universal usage.”

So if you are in the habit of saying I will because, being only human, you find the complicated shall-will rules too much for mortal flesh to bear, you will be relieved to learn that you may now relax. People who habitually use will with I and we are speaking 100 per cent correct English.

12. It is me.

RIGHT. This violation of grammatical law has been completely sanctioned by current usage. When Winston Churchill made a nationwide radio address from New Haven, Connecticut, a few years ago, his opening sentence was: “This is me, Winston Churchill.” I imagine that the purists who were listening to Britain’s former Prime Minister fell into a deep state of shock at these words, but of course Churchill was simply using the kind of down-to-earth, democratic English that has become standard in American speech. Novelist Louis Bromfield says, “The expression It is me has justification through convenience and very common usage.” And Dr. A. H. Fuchs, a member of the editorial staff of the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, wrote me recently: “We assure you that It is me has long been established as good colloquial speech.”

The question is, simply, which are you going to be—fussy or up-to-date? By all means stick to It is I in your own speech, if you prefer that form, but it is highly unrealistic and sometimes hazardous to look down your nose at people who use the equally correct and certainly more popular It is me.

13. Go slow.

RIGHT. “Go slow” is not, and never has been, incorrect English—every dictionary concedes that slow is an adverb as well as an adjective. Rex Stout, well-known writer of mystery novels and creator of Detective Nero Wolfe, says: “Not only do I use and approve of the idiom Go slow, but if I find myself with people who do not, I leave quick.”

14. Mary and Margie are alumni of the College of New Rochelle.

WRONG. As Mary and Margie are obviously females, we call them alumnae (a-LUM-nee); only male graduates are alumni (a-LUM-nye).

15. I would like to ask you a question.

RIGHT. In current American usage, would may be used with I, though no die-hard purist will give an inch in this matter. Strict, old-fashioned rules demand I should, and perhaps if your English teacher was from the Old School, she made quite a to-do over your lapses from this now outmoded principle.

Indeed, in modern speech, should is almost entirely restricted to expressing duty or probability.

As in the case of the bejeweled dowager of the Depression Days, who was approached on Park Avenue by a seedy-looking character.

“Madam,” he whined, “I haven’t eaten in five days.”

“My good man,” the matron answered with great concern, “You should force yourself!”

5

HOW TO TALK
ABOUT VARIOUS PRACTITIONERS

TEASER PREVIEW

What practitioner:

• is a student of human behavior?

• follows the techniques evolved by Sigmund Freud?

• straightens teeth?

• measures eyes for glasses?

• grinds lenses for glasses?

• treats minor ailments of the feet?

• analyzes handwriting?

• examines the contours of the skull?

AN ANCIENT GREEK mused about the meaning of life, and philosophy was born. The first Roman decided to build a road instead of cutting a path through the jungle, and engineering came into existence. One day in primitive times, a human being lent to another whatever then passed for money and got back his original investment plus a little more—and banking had started.

Most people spend part of every workday at some gainful employment, honest or otherwise. And in so doing often contribute their little mite to the progress of the world.

We explore, in this chapter, the ideas behind people’s occupations—and the words that translate these ideas into verbal symbols.

IDEAS

1. behavior

His training has made him an expert in the dark mysteries of human behavior. He knows what makes people act as they do, why they have certain feelings, how their personalities were formed—in short, what makes them tick. Therefore, he is often hired by industries, schools, and institutions to devise means for keeping workers productive and happy, students well-adjusted, and inmates contented. If he is a bona fide member of his profession, he is a college graduate who has taken advanced study in the field.

He is a psychologist.

2. worries

He may be a physician or psychiatrist who has been specially trained in the techniques devised by Sigmund Freud, or he may be a nonmedical person with such training. In either case, he helps you to delve into that part of your mind which he calls the “unconscious” so that, by reviewing with him the experiences and thoughts of your earlier years, you can come to a complete understanding of your present worries, fears, conflicts, repressions, insecurities, and nervous tensions—thus taking the first step in eliminating them. His treatment, consisting largely in listening to, and interpreting the meaning of, your free-flowing ideas, is usually given in daily or weekly sessions that may well go on for a year or more. When (and if) you are finally discharged as cured, you are much better adjusted to the complex and frustrating world in which we all live.

He is a psychoanalyst.

3. teeth

He is a dentist who has taken postgraduate work in the straightening of teeth.

He is an orthodontist.

4. eyes

He’s the man who measures your vision and prescribes the type of glasses which will give you a new and more accurate view of the world. Although not a physician, he is a trained and registered member of his profession.

He is an optometrist.

5. glasses

He’s the man who grinds lenses according to the specifications decided upon by your optometrist or ophthalmologist. In conjunction with this activity, he may also run a store that deals in other kinds of optical goods. He does not need a college degree.

He is an optician.

6. bones

He is a member of the profession that originated in 1874, when Andrew T. Still devised a drugless technique of curing diseases by massaging and manipulating the bones of the body. This technique rests on the theory that illness may be caused by the undue pressure of displaced bones on nerves and blood vessels. He is a licensed practitioner and a graduate of a professional school.

He is an osteopath.

7. joints

The basic principle of this practitioner’s work is the maintenance of the structural and functional integrity of the nervous system. He consequently treats physical ailments by manipulating most of the articulations of the body, especially those connected to the spinal column. He is licensed and legally recognized in forty-five states of the nation, and his academic studies parallel those of the major healing professions.

He is a chiropractor

8. feet

He treats minor foot ailments—corns, calluses, bunions, fallen arches, et cetera. Since he is not a physician, he may not administer drugs or perform major surgery, but he is a graduate of a professional school and a licensed practitioner in most states.

He is a chiropodist or podiatrist.

9. writing

For a fee, he will analyze your handwriting, claiming to deduce therefrom what kind of person you are.

He’s a graphologist.

10. bumps

At a price, he will examine the “bumps” in your skull and, by manual exploration, decide the state of your mental faculties. This gentleman, who at best may be charitably credited with applying pseudoscientific laws, is, in most instances, a sideshow or circus barker—he is less interested in your brain-power than in your financial resources. The theory on which his deductions are based was first advanced by a Viennese physician in the late eighteenth century, to wit: that various faculties reside in different parts of the brain and their strength or weakness can be discovered from the contours of the skull. (Needless to say, this theory has long since been discredited, but is nevertheless still a source of considerable income to unscrupulous sharpsters.)

He is a phrenologist.

USING THE WORDS: I

The four tests which cover the basic ten words of this chapter will give you a chance to say the words, work with them, write them, and think about them.

Can you pronounce the words?

1. psychologist

sye-KOL-o-jist

2. psychoanalyst

sye-ko-AN-a-list

3. orthodontist

or-tho-DON-tist

4. optometrist

op-TOM-e-trist

5. optician

op-TISH-un

6. osteopath

OSS-tee-o-path

7. chiropractor

KYE-ro-prak-ter

*8. chiropodist

ki-ROP-o-dist

*    podiatrist

po-DYE-a-trist

9. graphologist

gra-FOL-o-jist

10. phrenologist

fre-NOL-o-jist

Can you work with the words?

Match practitioners and interests.

Practitioners

Interests

1. psychologist

a. your vision

2. psychoanalyst

b. your “unconscious”

3. orthodontist

c. your bones and blood vessels

4. optometrist

d. grinding lenses

5. optician

e. your feet

6. osteopath

f. your teeth

7. chiropractor

g. your skull

8. chiropodist or podiatrist

h. the joints of your spine

9. graphologist

i. your handwriting

10. phrenologist

j. your behavior

KEY: 1—j, 2—b, 3—f, 4—a, 5—d, 6—c, 7—h, 8—e, 9—i, 10—g

Do you understand the words?

Decide whether each of the following statements is true or false.

Can you recall the words?

Write the title of the person who fulfills each of the following functions.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS

1. the mental life

Psychologist is built upon the same Greek root as psychiatrist—psyche, the mind. In psychiatrist, the combining form is iatreia, to cure; in psychologist, the combining form is the Greek logos, which means, among other things, the study of—and a psychologist studies the human mind. His field is psychology, the adjective form of which is psychological.

The same Greek psyche is a full-fledged English word in its own right—it designates the mental life, the spiritual or nonphysical aspect of one’s existence. In its adjective form, psychic, it refers to phenomena or qualities that cannot be explained in purely physical terms. A person, for example, is called psychic if he seems to possess a sixth sense, a special gift of mind reading, or any mysterious aptitudes that cannot be accounted for logically. Or we say that a person’s troubles are psychic if they are of the mind rather than of the body.

Psyche combines with the Greek path, suffering or disease, to form psychopathic. We often refer to someone as “a psychopathic case” if we believe that he is mentally unbalanced. Psychopathic has essentially the same meaning as psychotic, a word we discussed in Chapter 4.

And psyche combines with Greek soma, body, to form psychosomatic, an adjective which delineates the powerful influence which the mind, especially the unconscious mind, has on bodily diseases. Thus, a person who unconsciously fears the consequence of his being present at a certain meeting will suddenly develop a bad cold, a backache, or even be injured in a traffic accident, so that his appearance at this meeting is made impossible. It’s a real cold, it’s far from an imaginary backache, and of course one cannot in any sense doubt the concrete reality of the automobile that ran over him. Yet, according to the psychosomatic theory of medicine, his unconscious mind made him susceptible to the cold germs, caused the backache, or forced him into the path of the speeding car. A psychosomatic disorder may actually exist in so far as symptoms are concerned—headache, excessive urination, pains, paralysis, heart palpitations—yet there is no organic cause within the body. The cause is within the psyche, the mind. Dr. Flanders Dunbar, in Mind and Body, gives a clear and exciting account of the interrelationship between emotions and diseases.

Psychoanalyst, obviously, comes from the same root as the other words we have been discussing. The technique is called psychoanalysis, the adjective is psychoanalytic. Psychoanalysis differs from psychiatry in that it relies exclusively on the deep, exhaustive, probing into the unconscious mind developed by its founder, Sigmund Freud of Vienna, Austria. In oversimplified terms, the general principle of psychoanalysis is to guide the patient to an awareness of the deep-seated, unconscious causes of his worries, conflicts, and tensions. Once found, exposed to the light of day, and thoroughly understood, claim the psychoanalysts, these causes vanish like a light snow that is exposed to strong sunlight. For those who need and can afford it, psychoanalysis is a revelation and in most cases the means of regaining mental and emotional health; for those who cannot afford it (psychoanalysis, administered by a trained physician, is expensive), most welfare agencies now have psychiatric social workers, licensed nonmedical analysts carefully trained in the Freudian technique, whose services are considerably less costly and probably equally beneficial.

Suppose your troubles are of psychological origin? You have asthma, let us say, and your doctor can find no physical basis for your ailment. So he sends you to visit a psychoanalyst, since the asthmatic attacks are real enough, and something must cause them.

With your psychoanalyst you explore your past life, dig into your unconscious, and discover, let us say for the sake of argument, that your mother always used to set for you impossibly high goals. No matter what you accomplished in school, it was not good enough—in her opinion (and she always made her opinions painfully clear to you), you could do better if you were not so lazy. As a child you built up certain resentments and anxieties because you seemed unable to please your mother—and (this will sound far-fetched, but it is perfectly possible) as a result you became asthmatic. How else were you going to get the mother love, the approbation, the attention you needed and which you felt you were not receiving?

In your sessions with your analyst you learn that your asthma comes from your emotions rather than from your physical organs. It stems from the mind, the psyche. So your asthma is psychogenic—of psychological origin.

And your treatment? No drugs, no surgery—these help the body, not the emotions. Instead, you “work out” (this is the term psychoanalysts use) your troubles in talk, in remembering, in exploring, in interpreting. And if your asthma is indeed psychogenic, psychoanalysis is very likely to help you; your attacks may cease, either gradually or suddenly.

For psychogenic disorders, then, the most effective treatment is along psychological lines. Such treatment, whether through psychoanalysis, hypnosis, electric- or insulin-shock, suggestion, or any other of various techniques, is called psychotherapy.

2. the physical life (teeth, eyes, bones, hands, and feet)

Ortho, as we discovered in Chapter 4, is from the Greek verb to straighten; dont is the Greek word for tooth. The meaning of the title orthodontist is thus quite clear. The specialty, you will recall, is orthodontia, the adjective is orthodontic. The value of orthodontia lies not only in its beautifying effect; by keeping the “bite” regular, it also saves the teeth. Like psychoanalysis, it’s a wonderful idea for those who need (and can afford) it.

Optometrist and optician are both derived from Greek optikos, eye. Metr in optometrist means to measure (again from the Greek) and is also found in such common words as thermometer, measurer of heat; taximeter, measurer of taxicab miles; metric system, a system of measurement; barometer, measurer of atmospheric pressure; and in the medical term sphygmomanometer, the device for measuring blood pressure. The optometrist is one who measures the vision of the eye; his field is optometry, the adjective is optometric. Greek optikos, eye, gives us the adjective optic, as in the optic nerve, or eye nerve, and also the adjective optical, as in optical illusion, a deception of the eye.

Osteopath is formed from two Greek words: osteon, bone, and pathos, disease or suffering. The osteopath claims that diseases arise chiefly from displacement of the bones. He practices osteopathy; the adjective is osteopathic. Osteon is also found m the common disease osteomyelitis, inflammation of the bones.

Both chiropractor and chiropodist are built on the Greek chiros, hand. The chiropractor uses his hands in the curing of ailments; the chiropodist treats surface ailments of the hand and foot, and received his title in an earlier time when most of us did an honest day’s work with our hands so that we often developed calluses on them—life having changed the way it has, many human beings earn a livelihood today from more sedentary occupations, and so develop calluses on less respectable portions of the anatomy. The chiropractor engages in chiropractic, the chiropodist in chiropody. Chiros is also found in the English word chirography, handwriting.

The pod in chiropodist is from the Greek word for foot, and is found in the chiropodist’s other title, podiatrist, which combines also the root iatreia, healing, which we last met in psychiatry and pediatrics. The podiatrist engages in podiatry; the adjective is podiatric. Knowing the meaning of the root pod, you will recognize such words as podium, the speaker’s platform (i.e., place where he stands on his feet), and tripod, a three-legged stand for a camera or other device.

3. two unscientific studies

The business of the graphologist is graphology—from graph, writing, and ology, the study of. We have already met graph in chirography, handwriting, and ology in psychology, the study of the mind. Graph is found in many common English words, such as telegraph, writing from afar, stenography, writing in short form, and autograph, writing of one’s own name.

We find ology, the study of, again in phrenology, combined with the Greek word for brain, phrenos. The phrenologist claims that he can study your brain power by examining the topography of your cranium.

SUMMARY OF NEW WORDS

Let us now, as usual, take a quick review of the roots which have helped us to understand our new words.

1. metr, measure

Examples: sphygmomanometer, optometrist

2. optikos, eye

Examples; optic, optician, optometrist

3. osteon, bone

Examples: osteopath, osteomyelitis

4. chiros, hand

Examples: chirography, chiropractic, chiropody

5. pod, foot

Examples: podium, tripod, podiatric

Simple? If you learn new words in etymological families, it cannot be otherwise.

Now try the exercises—say, write, work with, and think about the words you have just learned.

Can you pronounce the words?

1. psychology

sye-KOL-o-jee

2. psychological

sye-ko-LODGE-i-k’l

*3. psyche

SYE-ke

4. psychic

SYE-kik

*5. psychopathic

sye-ko-PATH-ik

6. psychosomatic

sye-ko-so-MAT-ik

*7. psychogenic

sye-ko-JEN-ik

*8. psychotherapy

sye-ko-THER-a-pee

9. psychoanalysis

sye-ko-a-NAL-i-sis

10. psychoanalytic

sye-ko-an-a-LIT-ik

*11. orthodontia

or-tho-DON-sha

12. orthodontic

or-tho-DON-tik

*13. sphygmomanometer

SFIG-mo-ma-NOM-e-ter

14. optometry

op-TOM-e-tree

15. optometric

op-to-MET-rik

16. optic

OP-tik

17. optical

OP-ti-k’l

*18. osteopathy

oss-te-OP-a-thee

*19. osteopathic

oss-te-o-PATH-ik

*20. osteomyelitis

OSS-te-o-MYE-a-lye-tis

21. chiropractic

ky-ro-PRAK-tik

*22. chiropody

ki-ROP-o-dee

*23. chirography

kye-ROG-ra-fee

*24. podiatry

po-DYE-a-tree

*25. podiatric

po-dee-AT-rik

26. podium

PO-de-um

27. tripod

TRYE-pod

28. graphology

gra-FOLL-o-jee

29. phrenology

fre-NOLL-o-jee

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and definitions.

1. psychology

a. straightening of teeth

2. psychotherapy

b. delving into the unconscious mind

3. psychoanalysis

c. treatment based on theory of pressure on blood vessels

4. orthodontia

d. treatment of the mind

5. optometry

e. analysis of handwriting

6. osteopathy

f. treatment of foot ailments

7. chiropractic

g. analysis of skull contours

8. chiropody

h. study of human behavior

9. graphology

i. treatment by manipulation of joints of the spinal column

10. phrenology

j. measurement and correction of vision

KEY: 1—h, 2—d, 3—b, 4—a, 5—j, 6—c, 7—i, 8—f, 9—e, 10—g

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. psyche

a. pertaining to relationships between mind and body

2. psychopathic

b. speakers’ stand

3. psychosomatic

c. pertaining to the eye

4. psychogenic

d. treatment of foot ailments

5. sphygmomanometer

e. the mental life

6. optical

f. inflammation of the bones

7. osteomyelitis

g. of emotional origin

8. podiatry

h. blood-pressure apparatus

9. podium

i. mentally unbalanced

KEY: 1—e, 2—i, 3—a, 4—g, 5—h, 6—c, 7—f, 8—d, 9—b

Do you understand the words?

Show the depth of your comprehension of these new words by marking each of the following statements true or false.

Can you recall the words?

Write the word we have studied which satisfies each of the following definitions.

What have you learned about roots?

From our study of words in this chapter you have become familiar with a number of important roots. Can you write the meaning of each of the following roots and supply, in addition, required number of examples of words using each root?

CHAPTER REVIEW

Do you recognize the words?

Check the word which most closely fits each definition.

1. Practitioner trained in Freudian techniques:

(a) psychologist, (b) psychoanalyst, (c) psychiatrist

2. Foot doctor:

(a) podiatrist, (b) osteopath, (c) chiropractor

3. Handwriting analyst:

(a) graphologist, (b) phrenologist, (c) optician

4. Mentally diseased:

(a) psychological, (b) psychopathic, (c) psychic

5. Caused by the emotions:

(a) psychic, (b) psychogenic, (c) psychoanalytic

6. Describing bodily ailments tied up with the emotions:

(a) psychosomatic, (b) psychopathic, (c) psychic

7. Inflammation of the bones:

(a) osteomyelitis, (b) osteopathic, (c) podiatric

KEY: 1—b, 2—a, 3—a, 4—b, 5—b, 6—a, 7—a

Becoming word conscious

Perhaps, if you have been working as assiduously with this book as I have repeatedly counseled, you have noticed an interesting phenomenon.

This phenomenon is as follows: You read a magazine article and suddenly you see one or more of the words you have recently learned. Or you open a book and there again are some of the words you have been working with in this book. In short, all your reading seems to call to your attention the very words you’ve been studying.

Why? Have I, with uncanny foresight, picked words which have suddenly and inexplicably become popular among writers? Obviously, that’s nonsense.

The change is in you. You have now begun to be alert to words, you have developed what is known in psychology as a “mind-set” toward certain words. Therefore, whenever these words occur in your reading you take special notice of them.

The same words occurred before—and just as plentifully—but since they presented little communication to you, you reacted to them with an unseeing eye, with an ungrasping mind. You were figuratively, and almost literally, blind to them.

Do you remember when you bought, or contemplated buying, a new car? Let’s say it was a Studebaker. Suddenly you began to see Studebakers all around you—you had a Studebaker “mind-set.”

It is thus with anything new in your life. Development of a “mind-set” means that the new experience has become very real, very important, almost vital.

If you have become suddenly alert to the new words you have been learning, you’re well along toward your goal of building a better vocabulary. You are beginning to live in a new and different intellectual atmosphere—nothing less!

On the other hand, if the phenomenon I have been describing has not yet occurred, do not despair. It will. I am alerting you to its possibilities—recognize it and welcome it when it happens.

In one’s intellect, as in nature, there is rarely a vacuum. Nothing is ever static. There must be, in your mind, either growth or decay, one or the other—you cannot stand still, mentally.

Increasing your vocabulary means mental growth.

So keep right on growing—there are no limits, your horizons can always expand. Or contract!

BRIEF INTERMISSION THREE:
HOW GRAMMAR CHANGES

If you think that grammar is an exact science, get ready for a shock. Grammar is a science, all right—but it is most inexact. There are no inflexible laws, no absolutely hard and fast rules, no unchanging principles. Correctness varies with the times and depends much more on geography, on social class, and on collective human caprice than on the restrictions found in textbooks.

In mathematics, which is an exact science, five and five make ten the country over—in the North, in the South, in the West; in Los Angeles and Coral Gables and New York. There are no two opinions on the matter—we are dealing, so far as we know, with a universal and indisputable fact.

In grammar, however, since the facts are highly susceptible to change, we have to keep an eye peeled for trends. What are educated people saying these days? Which expressions are generally used and accepted on educated levels, which others are more or less restricted to the less educated levels of speech? The answers to these questions indicate the trend of usage in the United States, and if such trends come in conflict with academic rules, then the rules are no longer of any great importance.

Grammar follows the speech habits of the majority of educated people—not the other way around. That is the important point to keep in mind.

The following notes on current trends in modern usage are intended to help you come to a decision about certain controversial expressions. As you read each sentence, pay particular attention to the italicized word or words. Does the usage square with your own language patterns? Would you be willing to phrase your thoughts in just such terms? Decide whether the sentence is right or wrong, then compare your conclusion with the opinions given following the test.

TEST YOURSELF

1. Let’s keep this between you and I.

WRONG. Children are so frequently corrected by parents and teachers when they say me that they cannot be blamed if they begin to think that this simple syllable is probably a naughty word. Dialogues such as the following are certainly typical of many households—perhaps including your own?

“Mother, can me and Johnnie go out and play?”

“No, dear, not until you say it correctly. You mean ‘May Johnnie and I go out to play?’ ”

“Who wants a jelly apple?”

“Me!”

“Then use the proper word.”

(The child becomes a little confused at this point—there seem to be so many “proper” and “improper” words.)

“Me, please?”

“No, dear, not me.”

“Oh. I, please?”

(This sounds terrible to a child’s ear. It completely violates his sense of language, but he does want the jelly apple, so he grudgingly conforms.)

“Who broke my best vase?”

“It wasn’t me!”

“Is that good English, Johnnie?”

“O.K., it wasn’t I. But honest, Mom, it wasn’t me—I didn’t even touch it!”

And so, if the child is strong enough to survive such constant corrections, he decides that whenever there is room for doubt, it is safer to say I.

Some adults, conditioned in childhood by the kind of misguided censorship detailed here, are likely to believe that “between you and I” is the more elegant form of expression, but most educated speakers, obeying the rule that a preposition governs the objective pronoun, say “between you and me.”

2. I’m your best friend, ain’t I?

WRONG. As linguistic scholars have frequently pointed out, it is unfortunate that ain’t I? is unpopular in educated speech, for the phrase fills a long-felt need. Am I not? is too prissy for down-to-earth people; amn’t I? is ridiculous; and aren’t I, though popular in England, has never really caught on in America. With a sentence like the one under discussion you are practically in a linguistic trap—there is no way out unless you are willing to choose between appearing illiterate, sounding prissy, or feeling ridiculous.

“What is the matter with ain’t I? for am I not?” wrote Wallace Rice in The American Mercury some years ago. “Nothing whatever, save that a number of minor grammarians object to it. Ain’t I? has a pleasant sound once the ears are unstopped of prejudice.” Mr. Rice has a valid point there, yet educated people avoid ain’t I? as if it were catching. In all honesty, therefore, I must say to you: Don’t use ain’t I?, except humorously. What is a safe substitute? Apparently none exists, so I suggest that you manage, by some linguistic calisthenics, to avoid having to make a choice. Otherwise you may find yourself in the position of being damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

3. Five and five is ten.

RIGHT. But don’t jump to the conclusion that “five and five are ten” is wrong—both verbs are equally acceptable in this or any similar construction. If you prefer to think of “five-and-five” as a single mathematical concept, say is. If you find it more reasonable to consider “five and five” a plural idea, say are. The arithmetic teachers I’ve polled on this point are about evenly divided in preference, and so, I imagine, are the rest of us. So use whichever verb exercises the greater appeal to your sense of logic.

4. I never saw a man get so mad.

RIGHT. When I questioned a number of authors and editors about their opinion of the acceptability of mad as a synonym for angry, the typical reaction was: “Yes, I say mad, but I always feel a little guilty when I do.”

Most people do say mad when they are sure there is no English teacher listening; it’s a good sharp word, everybody understands exactly what it means, and it’s a lot stronger than angry, though not quite as violent as furious or enraged. In short, mad has a special implication offered by no other word in the English language; as a consequence, educated people use it as the occasion demands and it is perfectly correct. So correct, in fact, that every authoritative dictionary lists it as a completely acceptable usage. If you feel guilty when you say mad, even though you don’t mean insane, it’s time you stopped plaguing your conscience with trivialities.

5. Every one of his sisters are unmarried.

WRONG. Are is perhaps the more logical word, since the sentence implies that he has more than one sister and they are all spinsters. In educated speech, however, the tendency is to make the verb agree with the subject, even if logic is violated in the process—and the better choice here would be is, agreeing with singular subject, every one.

6. He visited an optometrist for an eye operation.

WRONG. If the gentleman in question did indeed need an operation, he went to the wrong man. In most states, an optometrist is forbidden by law to perform surgery or administer drugs—he may only prescribe and fit glasses. And he is not a medical doctor. The M.D. who specializes in the treatment of eye diseases, and who may operate when necessary, is an oculist. (See Chapter 5)

These two practitioners, the optometrist and the oculist, should not be confused with the optician, who has no degree, medical or otherwise, and is either a mechanic who grinds lenses or a businessman who sells optical goods.

Then there is also the ophthalmologist (off-thal-MOL-o-jist), who is identical in privileges and training with the oculist. Ophthalmologist, perhaps because it practically defies pronunciation, is the more impressive title, and most eye doctors call themselves by that term.

7. Do you prophecy another world war?

WRONG. Use prophecy only when you mean prediction—when you mean predict, as in this sentence, use prophesy. This distinction is simple and foolproof. Therefore we properly say: “His prophecy (prediction) turned out to be true,” but “He really seems able to prophesy (predict) political trends.” There is a distinction also in the pronunciation of these two words. Prophecy is pronounced PROFF-e-see; prophesy is pronounced PROFF-e-sigh.

8. Leave us not mention it.

WRONG. On the less sophisticated levels of American speech, leave is a popular substitute for let. On educated levels, the following distinction is carefully observed: Let means allow, leave means depart. (There are a few idiomatic exceptions to this rule, but they present no problem.) “Let me go” is preferable to “Leave me go” even on the most informal of occasions, and a sentence like “Leave us not mention it” would be heard only from those educated speakers whose language patterns have been irreparably corrupted by too much listening to “Duffy’s Tavern.”

9. If you expect to eventually succeed, you must keep trying.

RIGHT. We have here, in case you’re puzzled, an example of that notorious bugbear of academic grammar, the “split infinitive.” (An infinitive is a verb preceded by to: to succeed, to fail, to remember.)

Splitting an infinitive is not at all difficult—you need only insert a word between the to and the verb: to eventually succeed, to completely fail, to quickly remember.

Now that you know how to split an infinitive, the important question is, is it legal to do so? I am happy to be able to report to you that it is not only legal, it is also ethical, moral, and sometimes more effective than to not split it. Benjamin Franklin, Washington Irving, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Theodore Roosevelt, and Woodrow Wilson, among many others, were unconscionable infinitive splitters. And modern writers are equally partial to the construction.

To bring this report right up to the minute, I asked a number of editors about their attitude toward the split infinitive. Here are two typical reactions.

Ralph A. Beebe, one of the editors of Doubleday and Company: “The restriction against the split infinitive is, to my mind, the most artificial of all grammatical rules. I find that most educated people split infinitives regularly in their speech, and only eliminate them from their writing when they rewrite and polish their material.”

Roger William Riis, Roving Editor of Reader’s Digest: “I want to defend the split infinitive. The construction adds to the strength of the sentence—it’s compact and clear. This is to loudly say that I split an infinitive whenever I can catch one.”

And here, finally, is the opinion of humorist James Thurber, as quoted by Rudolf Flesch in The Art of Plain Talk: “Word has somehow got around that the split infinitive is always wrong. This is of a piece with the outworn notion that it is always wrong to strike a lady.”

I think the evidence is conclusive enough—it is perfectly correct to consciously split an infinitive whenever such mayhem increases the strength or clarity of your sentence.

6

HOW TO TALK
ABOUT SCIENCE AND SCIENTISTS

TEASER PREVIEW

What scientist:

• is interested in human development?

• is a student of the heavens?

• explores the physical qualities of the earth?

• studies living matter?

• is a student of plant life?

• is a student of the animal kingdom?

• is professionally interested in insects?

• is a student of linguistics?

• is a student of the psychological effects of words?

A true scientist lives up to the etymological meaning of his title—“one who knows.” Anything scientific is based on facts—observable facts that can be recorded, tested, checked, and verified.

Science, then, deals with human knowledge—as far as it has gone. It has gone very far indeed since the last century or two, when we stopped basing our thinking on guesses, wishes, theories that had no foundation in reality, and concepts of how the world ought to be; and instead began to explore the world as it was, and not only the world but the whole universe. From Galileo, who looked through the first telescope atop a tower in Pisa, Italy, through Pasteur, who watched microbes through a microscope, to Einstein, who deciphered riddles of the universe by means of mathematics, man has at last begun to fill in a few of his areas of ignorance.

Who are some of the more important explorers of knowledge—and by what names are they known?

IDEAS

1. whitner mankind?

His field is all mankind—how we developed in mind and body from primitive cultures and early forms.

He’s an anthropologist.

2. what’s above?

His field is the heavens, and all that’s in them—planets, galaxies, stars, and other universes.

He’s an astronomer.

3. and what’s below?

His field is the comparatively little and insignificant whirling ball on which we live—the earth. He’s interested in how our planet came into being, what it’s made of, how its mountains, oceans, rivers, plains, and valleys were formed, and what’s down deep if you start digging.

He’s a geologist.

4. what is life?

His field is all living organisms—from the simplest one-celled amoeba to the amazingly complex and mystifying structure we call a human being. Plant or animal, flesh or vegetable, denizen of water, earth, or air—if it lives and grows, he wants to know more about it.

He’s a biologist.

5. flora

Biology classifies life into two great divisions—plant and animal. This man’s province is the former category—flowers, trees, shrubs, mosses, marine vegetation, blossoms, fruits, seeds, grasses, and all the rest that make up the plant kingdom.

He’s a botanist.

6. and fauna

Animals of every description, kind, and condition, from birds to bees, fish to fowl, reptiles to monkey to man, are the special area of exploration of this scientist.

He’s a zoologist.

7. and all the little bugs

There are over 650,000 different species of insects, and millions of individuals of every species—and he’s interested in every one of them.

He’s an entomologist.

8. tower of babel

This scientist explores the history, growth, change, forms, and uses of that unique tool which distinguishes human beings from all other forms of life—to wit: language. This man is, in short, a student of linguistics, ancient and modern, primitive and cultured, Chinese, Hebrew, Icelandic, Slavic, Teutonic, and every other kind spoken now or in the past by man, not excluding that delightful hodgepodge known as “pidgin English,” in which a piano is described as “big box, you hit ’um in teeth, he cry,” and in which Hamlet’s famous quandary is translated into “Can do, no can do—how fashion?”

He’s a philologist.

9. what do you really mean?

This man explores the subtle, intangible, elusive relationship between language and thinking, between meaning and words. His interest lies in the psychological cause and effect of the words we use and he hopes eventually to bring about in human mortals clearer, more accurate thinking by means of clearer, more accurate ways of speaking. In another sense, he demonstrates to us that because of muddled thinking and miseducation, none of us really understand what anyone else is talking about.

He’s a semanticist.

10. who are your friends and neighbors?

He is a student of the way in which people live together, their family and community structures and customs, their housing, their social relationships, their forms of government, and their layers of caste and class.

He’s a sociologist.

USING THE WORDS: I

Can you pronounce the words?

1. anthropologist

an-thro-POL-o-jist

2. astronomer

a-STRON-o-mer

3. geologist

je-OL-o-jist

4. biologist

bye-OL-o-jist

5. botanist

BOT-an-ist

*6. zoologist

zoe-OL-o-jist

7. entomologist

en-to-MOL-o-jist

8. philologist

fill-OL-o-jist

9. semanticist

se-MAN-ti-sist

*10. sociologist

so-she-OL-o-jist

Can you work with the words?

Match each scientist to his professional interest.

SCIENTIST

PROFESSIONAL FIELD

1. anthropologist

a. community and family life

2. astronomer

b. meanings and psychological effects of words

3. geologist

c. development of the human race

4. biologist

d. celestial phenomena

5. botanist

e. language

6. zoologist

f. insect forms

7. entomologist

g. the earth

8. philologist

h. all forms of living matter

9. semanticist

i. animal life

10. sociologist

j. plant life

KEY: 1—c, 2—d, 3—g, 4—h, 5—j, 6—i, 7—f, 8—e, 9—b, 10—a

Do you understand the words?

Following each scientist are two ideas, only one of which interests him professionally. Check his chief interest.

1. anthropologist

a. bushmen of Australia
b. Greek grammar

2. astronomer

a. structure of lobsters
b. structure of the moon

3. geologist

a. volcanic craters
b. craters on the moon

4. biologist

a. housing conditions of people on relief
b. evolutionary processes

5. botanist

a. giant redwoods of California
b. hoof-and-mouth disease

6. zoologist

a. sex life of the grasshopper
b. sex life of fir trees

7. entomologist

a. social life of the ant
b. social life of Samoans

8. philologist

a. changes in social customs since the industrial revolution
b. changes in English grammar since Shakespeare

9. semanticist

a. pronunciation of English words
b. emotional implications of English words

10. sociologist

a. sex life of wild animals in captivity
b. sex life of people on relief

KEY: 1—a, 2—b, 3—a, 4—b, 5—a, 6—a, 7—a, 8—b, 9—b, 10—b

Can you recall the words?

Write the title of the scientist whose main interest is described below.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS

1. man and the stars

Anthropologist contains roots we have met before: Greek anthropos, man, has already come up in misanthrope, hater of mankind (Chapter 3); ology, study of, has occurred in graphology, phrenology, and ophthalmology. The science is anthropology, the adjective is anthropological.

Astronomer is built on Greek astron, star, and nomos, arrangement, law, or order. The astronomer is interested in the arrangement of stars and other celestial bodies. His profession is astronomy, the adjective is astronomical, a word often used in a nonheavenly sense, as in “the astronomical size of the national debt.” Astronomy deals in such enormous distances (the sun, for example, is 93,000,000 miles from the earth, and light from stars travels toward the earth at 186,000 miles per second) that the adjective astronomical is applied to any tremendously big figure.

The root astron, star, is also found, combined with our old friend ology, study of, in astrology, the pseudoscience which claims it can foretell the future by a study of the stars. The practitioner of this theory is called an astrologer, a man generally pictured with a pointed dunce cap adorned with stars, planets, and various portions of the moon; a flowing robe that looks like an old fashioned flannel nightgown; an unkempt gray beard; and a wise expression, as if he knows everything there is to know. All he actually knows is that he’s going to separate you from some of your money if you’re gullible enough to believe his baseless predictions. Aster is a star-shaped flower; asterisk, a star-shaped symbol (*), is generally used in writing or printing to tell the reader to look at the bottom of the page for a footnote; and astrophysics is that branch of physics which deals with the physical composition of heavenly bodies.

Disaster and disastrous also come from astron, star. In ancient times it was believed that the stars ruled human destiny; any misfortune or calamity, therefore, happened to someone because the stars were opposed to him. We realize now that a man’s fate is largely fashioned by his personality, by economic forces, and by the actions of other men, but in the word disaster is preserved the older, more romantic, and highly inaccurate view.

Nomos, arrangement, law, or order, is found in two other interesting and valuable English words.

For example, if you can make your own laws for yourself, if you needn’t answer to anyone else for what you do, in short, if you are independent, then you enjoy autonomy, a word which combines nomos, law, with auto, self. (We last met auto, self, in autograph, which etymologically is writing by oneself.) Autonomy, then, is self-law, self-government. The forty-eight states in our nation are fairly autonomous, but not completely so. On the other hand, in most colleges each separate department is pretty much autonomous. And of course, one of the big reasons for the revolution of 1776 was that America wanted autonomy, rather than direction from England.

You know the instrument which musicians use to guide their timing? A pendulum swings back and forth, making an audible click at each swing, and in that way governs or orders the measure of the player. Hence it is called a metronome, a word which combines nomos with metron, the root we became familiar with in our study of words like optometrist, sphygmomanometer, taximeter, et cetera. Etymologically, a metronome governs the measuring of musical time.

2. the earth and its life

The geologist, whose profession is geology, and who investigates geological phenomena, derives his name from a combination of Greek geos, earth, and ology, study of. Geos is also found in geometry, literally measuring the earth, or that branch of mathematics which treats of the measurement and properties of solid and plane figures, such as angles, triangles, squares, spheres, prisms, et cetera, all of which are, strictly speaking, forms found on the earth.

The biologist is so-called from his study of all living forms; the first two syllables of his title are from Greek bios, life. The field is biology, the adjective biological. Bios, life, is also found in biography, writing about someone’s life; autobiography, the story of one’s life written by oneself; and biopsy, a medical examination, generally through a microscope, of tissue removed from a living body for the purpose of determining the disease that afflicts it. A biopsy is normally performed in a suspected cancer. A small part of the tissue is cut from the affected area and under the microscope its cells can be investigated for evidences of cancerous growth. A biopsy is contrasted with an autopsy, which is a medical examination of a corpse in order to discover the cause of its death. The auto in autopsy means, as you know, oneself—in an autopsy, the surgeon determines for himself, by actual sight rather than by theorizing, what brought the corpse to its present lamentable state. Opsis, as in biopsy and autopsy, means sight or viewing, and is related to optikos, eye, a root we have already studied.

Botanist is formed on Greek botane, plant. The field is botany, the adjective botanical. The famed botanical gardens of Bronx Park, in New York, contain thousands of varieties of plants from all over the world.

The zoologist, who is a student of zoology (the adjective is zoological), is so-named after the Greek zoon, animal. The combination of the two o’s tempts many people to pronounce the first three letters of these words in one syllable, thus: zoo. However, the two o’s should be separated, as in co-operate, even though no hyphen is used in the spelling to indicate such separation. Say zoe-OL-o-jist, zoe-OL-o-jee, et cetera. Zoo, a park for wild animals, is a shortened form of zoological gardens, and is, of course pronounced in one syllable.

3. cutups

The syllable tom in any scientific word generally comes from the Greek temnein, to cut. We hear it in appendectomy, a cutting out of the appendix, and tonsillectomy, a cutting out of the tonsils. We also hear it in entomology, the science that deals with insects, forms of life that seem, in appearance, as if they are almost cut in two. (Take a good look at one sometime to see what I mean.) Insect itself is from a Latin root meaning cut, as in dissection, et cetera. The adjective form of entomology is, as you would guess, entomological.

Temnein, to cut, is usually found in English words in the spelling tom. Consider the following:

1. The smallest particle is of course one that cannot be cut any further. Up to recent years we felt that this unique distinction was held by the atom, though today (1949) almost every country in the world is going mad trying to split, or cut up, the atom. The first letter in atom is a negative Greek prefix which you will meet in many other words in later chapters of this book—whenever you do see it tacked on to the beginning of a word of Greek origin, remember that it may mean not.

2. In some words of Greek origin, however, the initial letter a may not have a negative force. In anatomy, it is part of a prefix meaning on or up. Anatomy was originally a cutting up of a living body to determine its structure; by extension, the word naturally came to mean the structure itself, since determining such structure was possible only by means of dissection, or cutting up.

3. Originally any volume which formed part of a larger work was called a tome—etymologically, a part cut from the whole. Today, a tome refers to any book, especially a large one physically, or a heavy one in content. The word is often applied humorously, in mock dignity, to any book.

4. Mono, you recall from our study of the word monocle, means one. The root for two is di (as in dialogue, speech by two people), and dicha means in two. So to describe a cutting into two parts, we use dicha and tom and get dichotomy. A dichotomy is a splitting in two—it is a technical word much used in astronomy, biology, botany, and the science of logic. It is also used as a nontechnical term, as when we refer to the dichotomy in the life of a man who is a government clerk all day and a night-school teacher after working hours, so that his life is, in a sense, split into two parts. The verb is to dichotomize; the adjective is dichotomous. Dichotomous thinking is the sort that divides everything into two parts—good and bad; white and black; Democrats and Republicans; et cetera. An unknown wit has made this classical statement about dichotomous thinking: “There are two kinds of people: Those who divide everything into two parts, and those who do not.”

5. Suppose you take some big thing or idea and cut out the essential part. That part then, is a condensation of the whole; and we call it an epitome, a word which uses tom, to cut, and epi, upon or up.

For example, an epitome may refer to a summary, condensation, or abridgment of a piece of writing or of an idea, as in “Let me have an epitome of the book,” or “Give me the epitome of his speech.”

More commonly, epitome and its verb, to epitomize, might be used in a phrase like “He is the epitome of kindness,” or “That one act epitomizes his philosophy of life.” If you cut out the essential part of something, that part in a way is representative of the whole. So a man who is the epitome of kindness stands for all people who are kind; and an act that epitomizes a philosophy of life represents, by itself, the complete philosophy. And watch your pronunciation of epitome—there are four syllables, not three. Say e-PIT-o-mee.

4. the power of words

Ology, we have long since decided, means the study of, but that is only one of its meanings, though admittedly its most common one. The log part comes from a Greek word logos, which means word, and in philology the last three syllables are related to logos, word: philology, strictly, is a love of words, hence, by extention, the study of linguistics. The first syllable phil is, you will recall by thinking of philanthropist, from philos, love. We meet the root in philanderer, one who makes love triflingly (the verb is to philander); in philatelist, one who loves and collects postage stamps (his hobby is philately); in Anglophile, a lover of British customs and forms in preference to American ones; in bibliophile, a lover and collector of rare books; in Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love; in philosophy, the love of wisdom; in philharmonic, the love of harmonies or music; and in philtre, a love potion.

Semantics, the work of the semanticist, is from a Greek root semantikos, significant meaning. It is my opinion that semantics is one of the most important of modern sciences, if not the most important; it is difficult to give a full appreciation of the meaning or use of the subject in a book such as this, since a semanticist needs a big book of his own to explain his science. The two best books on semantics, exciting, stimulating, and highly readable, are Language in Action, by S. I. Hayakawa (Harcourt, Brace, publishers), and People in Quandaries, by Dr. Wendell Johnson (Harper & Brothers, publishers).

The adjective form is semantic. Please note that semantics, like pediatrics and obstetrics, is considered a singular word despite the s ending. Semantics is, not are, an exciting study. However, this rule applies only when we refer to the word as a science or study. In the following sentence, semantics is used as a plural: “The semantics of your thinking are all wrong.”

5. how people live

The sociologist is engaged in sociology—the adjective is sociological. The c in these words is preferably pronounced as it is in social—note the sound of sh: so-she-OL-o-jee, et cetera.

Sociology, a college subject of long standing, is considered one of the dullest of studies—though sociologists claim that economics is even duller. I have personally found both sciences practically deadly, as have many other people I know, even those who are well-educated. I suspect that the fault with both sociology and economics is that they are hemmed in by tradition and, paradoxically enough, unscientific thinking. To understand this attitude better, read Professor Barrows Dunham’s excellent book, Man Against Myth (Little, Brown, publishers).

USING THE WORDS: II

In each vocabulary chapter we make fruitful excursions into words that are built upon the roots found in our basic ten. Do not feel, however, that the purpose of the section is primarily to acquaint you with the important Latin and Greek stems from which so many valuable English words are derived. That is, at best, a secondary purpose.

The primary purpose of our work with roots is to continue learning words which revolve around a central core. In the first part of each chapter our central core is an idea—learning words with common ideas is quicker, easier, and more permanent than learning isolated words. Similarly, learning words that have common roots is, again, a comparatively rapid and simple method of understanding new words in wholesale quantities. So in our occasional review of roots, pay particular attention to the examples and their relation to the common roots. For example, note how easy it is to remember the meanings of the words we have just discussed (as well as those from previous chapters) if we divide them according to their common roots.

1. anthropos, man

EXAMPLES: anthropology, misanthropy, philanthropy

2. astron, star

EXAMPLES: astronomy, asterisk, astrology, astrophysics

3. geos, earth

EXAMPLES: geology, geography, geometry

4. bios, life

EXAMPLES: biology, biography, autobiography, biopsy

5. temnein (tom), cut

EXAMPLES: entomology, epitome, frontal lobotomy, dichotomy, tonsillectomy, appendectomy

6. philos, love

EXAMPLES: philology, philanthropy, philander, philately Anglophile, bibliophile, philosophy

7. nomos, order, arrangement, law

EXAMPLES: autonomy, metronome, astronomy

Can you pronounce the words?

1. anthropology

an-thro-POL-o-jee

2. anthropological

an-thro-po-LODGE-i-k’l

3. astronomy

a-STRON-o-mee

4. astronomical

as-tro-NOM-i-k’l

5. astrology

a-STROL-o-jee

6. astrologer

a-STROL-o-jer

7. aster

ASS-ter

8. asterisk

ASS-ter-isk

9. astrophysics

ASS-tro-FIZZ-iks

10. geology

jee-OL-o-jee

11. geological

jee-o-LODGE-i-k’l

12. geography

jee-OG-ra-fee

13. geometry

jee-OM-e-tree

14. biological

bye-o-LODGE-i-k’l

15. biology

bye-OL-o-jee

16. biography

bye-OG-ra-fee

17. autobiography

aw-to-bye-OG-ra-fee

*18. biopsy

BYE-op-see

*19. autopsy

AW-top-see

20. botany

BOTT-a-nee

21. botanical

bo-TAN-i-k’l

*22. zoology

zoe-OL-o-jee

*23. zoological

zoe-o-LODGE-i-k’l

24. entomology

en-to-MOL-o-jee

25. entomological

en-to-mo-LODGE-i-k’l

26. philology

fil-OL-o-jee

*27. philological

fill-o-LODGE-i-k’l

28. philanderer

fil-AND-er-er

29. philander

fil-AND-er

30. philatelist

fil-AT-el-ist

31. philately

fll-AT-e-lee

32. Anglophile

ANG-glo-fyle

*33. bibliophile

BIB-lee-o-fyle

34. semantics

se-MAN-tiks

35. semantic

se-MAN-tik

*36. sociology

soe-she-OL-o-jee

*37. sociological

soe-she-o-LODGE-i-k’l

38. autonomy

aw-TON-o-mee

*39. autonomous

aw-TON-o-mus

40. metronome

MET-ro-noam

41. atom

AT-’m

42. anatomy

a-NAT-o-mee

43. tome

TOAM

*44. dichotomy

dye-KOT-o-mee

*45. dichotomous

dye-KOT-a-mus

46. dichotomize

dye-KOT-o-myze

*47. epitome

e-PIT-o-mee

48. epitomize

e-PIT-o-myze

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and definitions in each group.

1. anthropology

a. pseudoscience of the stars

2. astronomy

b. story of someone’s life

3. astrology

c. study of all life

4. geology

d. study of human development

5. biology

e. study of plants

6. biography

f. study of the composition of the earth

7. botany

g. study of animal life

8. zoology

h. science of the heavens

KEY: 1—d, 2—h, 3—a, 4—f, 5—c, 6—b, 7—e, 8—g

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. autopsy

a. medical examination of living tissue

2. biopsy

b. make love triflingly

3. entomology

c. study of insects

4. philology

d. stamp collecting

5. philander

e. linguistics

6. philately

f. medical examination of a corpse

7. bibliophile

g. book collector

KEY: 1—f, 2—a, 3—c, 4—e, 5—b, 6—d, 7—g

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. autonomy

a. a splitting in two

2. metronome

b. one who loves England

3. dichotomy

c. musical time measurer

4. epitome

d. structure of the body

5. Anglophile

e. self-rule

6. anatomy

f. part which represents the whole

KEY: 1—e, 2—c, 3—a, 4—f, 5—b, 6—d

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to the following questions.

Can you recall the words?

Write the word we have just studied which fits each of the following brief definitions.

How are your roots?

Now, just to check your affinity for roots, test your knowledge of seven important ones. Give a brief meaning and one example for each.

1. anthropos means———

Example:———

2. astron means———

Example:———

3. geos means———

Example:———

4. bios means———

Example:———

5. temnein (tom) means———

Example:———

6. philos means———

Example:———

7. nomos means———

Example:———

KEY: 1—mankind (anthropology, misanthrope, philanthropist, et cetera); 2—star (aster, asterisk, astrology, et cetera); 3—earth (geology, geography, et cetera); 4—life (biology, biography, biopsy, et cetera); 5—cut (entomology, tonsillectomy, frontal lobotomy, et cetera); 6—love (bibliophile, philatelist, et cetera); 7—order, arrangement, law (autonomy, metronome, et cetera)

CHAPTER REVIEW

Do you recognize the words?

Check the word that fits each definition.

1. Student of the stars:

(a) geologist, (b) astronomer, (c) anthropologist

2. Student of plant life:

(a) botanist, (b) zoologist, (c) biologist

3. Student of insect life:

(a) sociologist, (b) entomologist, (c) etymologist

4. Student of word meanings:

(a) philologist, (b) semanticist, (c) etymologist

5. Analysis of living tissue:

(a) autopsy, (b) biopsy, (c) astrology

6. Stamp collector:

(a) philanderer, (b) bibliophile, (c) philatelist

7. Self-governing:

(a) autobiographical, (b) autonomous, (c) dichotomous

8. The part that represents the whole:

(a) epitome, (b) dichotomy, (c) metronome

KEY: 1—b, 2—a, 3—b, 4—b, 5—b, 6—c, 7—b, 8—a

WHERE TO GET NEW IDEAS

The man with a superior vocabulary, I have submitted, is the man with ideas. The words he knows are verbal symbols of the ideas he’s familiar with—reduce one and you must reduce the other, for ideas cannot exist without verbalization. Freud once had an idea—and had to coin a whole new vocabulary to make his idea clear to the world. Those who are familiar with Freud’s theories know all the words that explain them—the unconscious, the ego, the id, the superego, rationalization, Oedipus complex, and so on. Splitting the atom is (1949) a new idea—anyone familiar with it knows something about fission, isotope, radioactive, cyclotron, et cetera.

Remember this: Your vocabulary indicates the alertness of your mind. The words you know show the extent of your understanding of what’s going on in the world. I am not exaggerating a bit when I say that the size of your vocabulary varies directly with the degree to which you are mentally alive.

We have covered, so far in this book, several hundred words. Having learned these words, you have begun to think of an equal number of new ideas. A new word is not just another pattern of syllables with which to clutter up your mind—a new word is a new idea to help you think, to help you understand the thoughts of others, to help you express your own thoughts, to help you live a richer intellectual life.

Realizing these facts, you may become impatient. You will begin to doubt that a book like this can cover all the ideas that an alert and intellectually mature adult should be acquainted with. Your doubt is well-founded.

One of the chief purposes of this book is to get you started, to give you enough of a push so that you will begin to gather momentum, to stimulate you enough so that you will want to start gathering your own ideas.

Where can you gather them? From the same inexhaustible sources from which college students gather them—from good books on new topics, from wide-ranging reading of new subjects.

Reference has repeatedly been made to psychology, psychiatry, and psychoanalysis in these pages. If your curiosity has been piqued by these references, here is a good place to start. In these fields there is a tremendous and exciting literature—and no one can stop you from reading as widely and as deeply as you wish.

What I would like to do is offer a few suggestions as to where you might profitably begin—how far you go will depend on your own interest.

I offer the following books as particularly readable, interesting, clear, and exciting.

1. Why We Act as We Do, by Philip Eisenberg (Knopf).

2. You and Psychiatry, by William Menninger and Munro Leaf (Scribner).

3. The Human Mind, by Karl A. Menninger (Knopf).

4. Mind and Body, by Flanders Dunbar (Random House).

5. The Mind in Action, by Eric Berne (Simon & Schuster).

6. Self-Analysis, by Karen Harney (Norton).

7. Understandable Psychiatry, by Leland E. Hinsie (Macmillan).

8. A General Introduction to Psycho-Analysis, by Sigmund Freud (Garden City Pub. Co.).

9. Emotional Problems of Living, by O. Spurgeon English and Gerald H. J. Pearson (Norton).

BRIEF INTERMISSION FOUR:
HOW TO AVOID BEING A PURIST

Life, as you have no doubt already discovered for yourself, is complicated enough these days. Yet puristic textbooks and English teachers with puristic ideas are striving like mad to make it still more complicated. Their contribution to the complexity of modern living is the repeated claim that many of the natural, carefree, and popular expressions that most of us use every day are “bad English,” “incorrect grammar,” “vulgar,” and “illiterate.” If we begin to develop a national guilt complex about our language, we’ll know exactly where to place the blame.

Actually, a large number of the formal restrictions and ancient “thou shalt nots” of academic grammar are now completely outmoded—most educated speakers quite simply ignore them.

Students in my grammar classes in the Adult Education Program of the City College of New York are somewhat nonplused when they learn that correctness is not determined by textbook rules and cannot be enforced by government edict. They invariably ask: “Aren’t you going to draw the line somewhere?”

It is neither necessary nor possible for any one person to “draw the line.” That is done—and quite effectively—by the people themselves, by the millions of educated people throughout the nation. Of course certain expressions may be considered “incorrect” of “illiterate” or “bad grammar”—not because they violate formal rules, but only because they are rarely if ever used by educated speakers.

Correctness, in short, is determined by current educated usage, not by rules and regulations.

The following notes on current trends in modern usage are intended to help you come to a decision about certain controversial expressions. As you read each sentence, pay particular attention to the italicized word or words. Does the usage square with your own language patterns? Would you be willing to phrase your thoughts in just such terms? Decide whether the sentence is right or wrong, then compare your conclusions with the opinions given after the test.

TEST YOURSELF

1. Let’s not walk any further right now.

RIGHT. In the nineteenth century, when professional grammarians went practically berserk in their attempt to formalize and Latinize English grammar, an artificial distinction was drawn between farther and further, to wit: farther refers to space, further means to a greater extent or additional. Today, as a result, many teachers who are still under the dour and forbidding influence of nineteenth-century restrictions insist that it is high treason to use one word for the other.

To check on current attitudes toward this distinction, I sent the test sentence above to a number of dictionary editors, authors, and professors of English, requesting their opinion of the acceptability of further in reference to actual distance. Sixty out of eighty-seven professors, over two thirds of those answering, accepted the usage without qualification. Of twelve lexicographers (dictionary editors), eleven accepted further, and in the case of the authors, thirteen out of twenty-three accepted the word as used. C. K. Thomas, Professor of English at Cornell University, remarked: “I know of no justification for any present-day distinction between further and farther,” and Charles Earle Funk, consulting editor of the Funk and Wagnails dictionary, said: “There is nothing controversial here. As applied to spatial distance, further and farther have long been interchangeable.”

Perhaps the comment of Albert Edward Wiggam, the noted author and columnist, is most to the point: “I like both further and farther as I have never been able to tell which is which or why one is any farther or further than the other.”

Most up-to-date people apparently feel as Dr. Wiggam does, for the authoritative dictionaries, which keep a finger on the pulse of educated American speech, report without exception that further means farther and farther means further.

2. Some women admit that their principle goal in life is to marry a wealthy man.

WRONG. In speech, you can get principal and principle confused as often as you like, and no one will ever know the difference—both words are pronounced identically. In writing, however, your spelling will give you away.

There is a simple memory trick that will help you if you get into trouble with these two words. Rule and principle both end in le—and a principle is a rule. On the other hand, principal contains an a, and so does main—and principal means main. Get these points straight and your confusion is over.

The head of a school is called a principal, because he is the main person in that institution of learning. The money you have in the bank is your principal, your main financial assets. And the stars of a play are principals—the main actors.

Thus, “Some women admit that their principal (main) goal in life is to marry a wealthy man,” but “Such a principle (rule) is not guaranteed to lead to marital happiness.”

3. What a nice dress!

RIGHT. Purists object to the popular use of nice as a synonym for pleasant, agreeable, or delightful. They wish to restrict the word to its older and more erudite meaning of exact or subtle. You will be happy to hear that they aren’t getting anywhere.

When I polled a group of well-known authors (including Rex Stout, Betty MacDonald, Lillian Hellman, Christopher Morley, Betty Smith, and Hervey Allen) on the acceptability in everyday speech of the popular meaning of nice, their opinions were unanimous; not a single dissenting voice, out of the twenty-three authors who answered, was raised against the usage. Hervey Allen remarked: “It has been right for about 150 years. . . .”

Editors of magazines and newspapers whom I questioned on the same point were just a shade more conservative. Sixty out of sixty-nine accepted the usage. Glen Neville, executive editor of the New York Mirror, commented: “I think we do not have to be nice about nice any longer. No one can eradicate it from popular speech as a synonym for pleasant, or enjoyable, or kind, or courteous. It is a workhorse of the vocabulary, and properly so.”

The only valid objection to the word is that it is overworked by some people, but this shows a weakness in vocabulary rather than grammar.

As in the famous story of the editor who said to his secretary: “There are two words I wish you would stop using so much. One is ‘nice,’ and the other is ‘lousy.’ ”

“O. K.,” said the girl, who was anxious to please, “What are they?”

4. He’s pretty sick today.

RIGHT. The term “purist” has been used so often in these pages that it might be a good idea to explain exactly what a purist is. The dictionary describes the gentleman as one who insists on “scrupulous or excessive observance of purity in language, style, et cetera.” The purist is a hidebound reactionary who wishes to keep the English language in a strait jacket despite preponderant and unmistakable evidence that English is always changing, that grammar is constantly tending to loosen up and become more liberal, and that popular deviations from old-fashioned rules freshen and invigorate American speech.

The purist listens to the language of his friends with a red pencil ever poised to make unnecessary corrections. He is a Mr. Grundy and will not tolerate split infinitives, sentences ending with prepositions or beginning with “and,” or the popular and established use of will or me or nice or further. And the more evidence you present of the untenableness of his position, the more obstinate he becomes. Proof of his richly deserved unpopularity is indicated by the derogatory adjectives usually applied to him: pedantic, prissy, nice-Nelly, and schoolmarmish, among others.

One of the purist’s pet targets of attack is the word pretty as used in the sentence under discussion. Yet all modern dictionaries accept such use of pretty, and a survey made by Professor Sterling Andrus Leonard of the University of Wisconsin shows that the usage is established English.

5. I feel awfully sick.

RIGHT. If purists have an intense dislike of the popular use of pretty, they are positively venomous toward awfully. Perhaps your own English teacher in high school or college was of a puristic inclination—if so, you probably got your knuckles rapped whenever you used awfully in your themes or conversation.

Yet dictionaries accept this usage in informal speech and Professor Leonard’s survey shows that it is established English.

The great popularity of awfully in educated speech is no doubt due to the strong and unique emphasis which the word gives to a sentence—substitute very, quite, extremely, or severely and you considerably weaken the force of the idea.

On the other hand, it is somewhat less than cultivated to say “I feel awful sick,” and the wisdom of using awfully to intensify a pleasant concept (”What an awfully pretty girl”; “That book is awfully interesting”) is perhaps still debatable, though getting less and less so as the years go on.

6. Are you going to invite Alice and I to your party?

WRONG. Some people are almost irresistibly drawn to the pronoun I in constructions like this one. However, not only does such use of I violate a valid and useful grammatical principle, but, more important, it is rarely heard in educated speech. The meaning of the sentence is equally clear, no matter which form of the pronoun is employed, of course, but the use of I, the less popular choice, may stigmatize the speaker as uneducated.

Consider it this way: You would normally say, “Are you going to invite me to your party?” It would be wiser, therefore, to say “Are you going to invite Alice and me to your party?”

7

HOW TO TALK
ABOUT LIARS AND LYING

TEASER PREVIEW

What word would describe a liar who:

• has built up a reputation for falsehood?

• is particularly skillful?

• cannot be reformed?

• has become habituated to his vice?

• started to lie from the moment of his birth?

• always lies?

• cannot distinguish fact from fancy?

• suffers no pangs of conscience?

• is suspiciously smooth and fluent in his lying?

• tells outstandingly vicious falsehoods?

IT WAS the famous Greek philosopher and cynic Diogenes who went around the streets of Athens, lantern in hand, looking for an honest man.

This was over two thousand years ago, but I presume that Diogenes would have as little success in his search today. Lying seems to be an integral weakness of mortal character—I doubt that a single human being would be so brash as to claim that he has never in his life told at least a partial untruth. Indeed, one philologist goes so far as to theorize that language must have been invented for the sole purpose of deception. Perhaps so. It is certainly true that animals seem somewhat more trustworthy than humans, maybe because they are less gifted mentally.

Why do people lie? To increase their sense of importance, to escape punishment, to gain an end that would otherwise be denied them, out of long-standing habit, or sometimes because they actually do not know the difference between fact and fancy. These are the common reasons for falsification. No doubt there are other, fairly unique motives that impel people to distort the truth. And come right down to it, can we always be certain what is true and what is false?

If lying is a prevalent and all-too-human phenomenon, there would naturally be a number of interesting words to describe different types of liars.

Let’s look at some of these words.

IDEAS

1. he doesn’t fool even some of the people

Everybody knows his propensity for avoiding facts. He has built so solid and unsavory a reputation that only a stranger is likely to be misled by him—and then, not for long.

He’s a notorious liar.

2. to the highest summits of artistry

His ability is top-drawer—no one can lie as convincingly or as artistically as he. His skill has, in short, reached the zenith of perfection. Indeed, his mastery of the art is so great that his lying is almost always crowned with success—and he has no trouble seducing an unwary listener into believing that he is telling gospel truth.

He’s a consummate liar.

3. beyond redemption or salvation

He is impervious to correction. Often as he may be caught in his fabrications, there is no reforming him—he goes right on lying despite the punishment, embarrassment, or unhappiness which his distortions of truth may visit upon him.

He’s an incorrigible liar.

4. too old to learn new tricks

He is the victim of firmly fixed and deep-rooted habits. With him, telling untruths is as frequent and customary an activity as brushing his teeth in the morning, or ordering toast and coffee for breakfast, or lighting up a cigarette after dinner. And almost as reflexive.

He’s an inveterate liar.

5. an early start

This character has such a long history of persistent falsification that one can only suspect his vice started while he was still reposing in his mother’s womb. In other words, and allowing for the normal amount of exaggeration for effect, he has been lying from the very moment of his birth.

He’s a congenital liar.

6. no letup

He never stops lying. While normal people lie on occasion, and often for special reasons, this scoundrel lies continuously—not occasionally or even frequently, but always.

He’s a chronic liar.

7. a little daft

He does not know the difference between truth and falsehood. Like a child of three, he cannot distinguish fact from fantasy. In this one respect at least, he is not entirely sane.

He’s a psychopathic liar.

8. no regrets

He is completely without a conscience. No matter what misery his fabrications may cause his innocent victims, he never feels the slightest twinge of guilt. Totally unscrupulous, he is a dangerous person to get mixed up with.

He’s an unconscionable liar.

9. old smoothie

Possessed of a lively imagination and a ready tongue, he can distort facts as smoothly, as fluently, and as effortlessly as you and I can recite the multiplication tables. But he doesn’t always get away with his lies.

Ironically enough, it is his superb smoothness that makes him suspect: his answers are too quick to be true. Even if we can’t immediately catch him in his lies, we have learned from unhappy past experience not to suspend our critical faculties when he is talking. We admire his nimble wit, but we listen with a skeptical ear.

He’s a glib liar.

10. outstanding

Lies, after all, are bad—they are frequently injurious to other people, and they have a particularly dangerous effect on the liar. At best, if he is caught, the liar suffers some embarrassment—at the worst, if he succeeds in his deception, his character becomes warped and his sense of values suffers. Almost all lies are harmful; some are no less than vicious.

With one type of liar, all his lies are vicious—calculatedly, pre-determinedly, coldly, and advisedly vicious. He is like Adolf Hitler, who almost succeeded in wrecking civilization with his lies. In short, this wretch’s lies are so outstandingly terrible that normal people can only gasp in horror and amazement at hearing them.

He’s an egregious liar.

USING THE WORDS: I

In this chapter our words revolve rather closely around their central core. Each one, however, has a distinct, a unique meaning, a special implication. Note the differences.

Type of Liar

Special Implication

1. notorious

he is famous—or infamous—for his lying;
his propensities are known far and wide

2. consummate

great skill

3. incorrigible

too far gone to be reformed—impervious to rehabilitation

4. inveterate

lying has become a deep-rooted habit

5. congenital

his lying had very early beginnings—as if he was born with the vice

6. chronic

continuity

7. psychopathic

has an irresistible compulsion to lie—often
for no rational or sane reason

8. unconscionable

lack of regret or remorse

9. glib

great smoothness

10. egregious

viciousness of his lies

These ten expressive adjectives, needless to say, are not restricted to lying or liars. Note their general meanings:

1. notorious

well-known for some bad quality—a notorious philanderer

2. consummate

perfect, highly skilled—his consummate
artistry at the piano keyboard

3. incorrigible

beyond reform—an incorrigible optimist

4. inveterate

long-accustomed, deeply habituated—an
inveterate narcotic addict (this adjective, like notorious, is restricted to unfavorable conditions)

5. congenital

happening at or during birth—a congenital deformity

6. chronic

going on for a long time—chronic appendicitis

7. psychopathic

mentally or emotionally diseased—a psychopathic fear of dogs

8. unconscionable

without pangs of conscience—his unconscionable and cavalier treatment of his wife

9. glib

smooth, suspiciously fluent—a glib talker

10. egregious

outstandingly bad or vicious—an egregious error

With the exception of consummate and congenital, all ten adjectives have strongly derogatory implications and are generally used to describe people, characteristics, or conditions of which we disapprove.

Can you pronounce the words?

1. notorious

no-TORE-e-us

*2. consummate

kon-SUMM-it

*3. incorrigible

in-KORR-i-ji-b’l

4. inveterate

in-VET-er-it

5. congenital

kon-JEN-i-t’l

6. chronic

KRON-ik

7. psychopathic

sye-ko-PATH-ik

*8. unconscionable

un-KON-shon-a-b’l

9. glib

GLIB

*10. egregious

e-GREE-jus

Can you work with the words?

Match words and definitions.

Word

Definition

1. notorious

a. beyond reform

2. consummate

b. continuing over a long period of time

3. incorrigible

c. insane; mentally unbalanced

4. inveterate

d. from long-standing habit

5. congenital

e. suspiciously smooth

6. chronic

f. without conscience or scruples

7. psychopathic

g. outstandingly bad

8. unconscionable

h. unfavorably known

9. glib

i. from birth

10. egregious

j. finished, perfect, artistic

KEY: 1—h, 2—j, 3—a, 4—d, 5—i, 6—b, 7—c, 8—f, 9—e, 10—g

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to the following questions.

Can you recall the words?

Now that you have begun to get used to the words both as to meaning and sound, try, without further reference to any previous list, to supply the proper word for each definition.

Can you use the words?

As a result of the tests you are taking, you are becoming more and more familiar with these ten valuable and expressive words. Now, to show the depth of your understanding, decide which one of the ten words we have discussed thus far in this chapter fits each of the following situations.

1. He has gambled, day in and day out, for as long as anyone can remember—gambling has become, for him, a deep-rooted habit.

1. An————gambler

2. He was born with a clubfoot

2. A————deformity

3. A1 Capone was known the world over for his criminal acts.

3. A————racketeer

4. Storm troopers killed, maimed, and tortured without mercy, compunction, or regret.

4.————acts of cruelty

5. He answered the detective’s questions easily, fluently, almost too smoothly.

5.————responses

6. Charlie Chaplin reached the acme of perfection in the art of pantomime.

6. A————actor

7. No one can change his absurdly romantic attitude toward life; nothing anyone can do or say will alter his outlook.

7. An————romantic

8. He has made a mistake that is so bad that it defies description.

8. An————blunder

9. He is drunk almost all the time—periods of sobriety are few and very, very far between.

9. A————alcoholic

10. His behavior cannot be explained in normal terms. He has passed the dividing line between sane and insane.

10. A————case

KEY: 1—an inveterate gambler; 2—a congenital deformity; 3—a notorious racketeer; 4—unconscionable acts of cruelty; 5—glib responses; 6—a consummate actor; 7—an incorrigible romantic; 8—an egregious blunder; 9—a chronic alcoholic; 10—a psychopathic case

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS

1. well-known

“Widely but unfavorably known” is the common definition for notorious. Just as a notorious liar is well-known for his unreliable habits, so a notorious gambler, a notorious thief, or a notorious scoundrel has achieved a wide, and probably deserved, reputation for some form of antisocial behavior. The noun is notoriety. The words are derived from the Latin adjective notus, known, from which we also get noted. It is an interesting philological characteristic that the addition or change of syllables can alter the emotional atmosphere of a word. Thus, an admirer of a businessman will speak of him as a “noted industrialist”; this same man’s enemy will call him a “notorious exploiter.” Similarly, if we admire a woman’s unworldliness, we refer to it by the complimentary term “childlike innocence”; but if we are annoyed by the trait, we describe it, derogatively, as “childish naïveté.” Change “-like” to “-ish” and our emotional tone has undergone a complete reversal.

2. plenty of room at the top

The top of a mountain, the very highest point, is called, as you know, the summit, a word derived from Latin summa, total, highest amount, which also gives us, of course, our mathematical term sum, as in addition. A consummate artist has reached the very highest point of perfection; and to consummate a marriage, a business deal, or a contract is to put the finishing touches to it that bring it to perfect completion. The noun form is consummation.

3. no help

Call a man incorrigible if he does anything to excess and all efforts to change or reform him have been to no avail. Thus, one can be an incorrigible idealist, an incorrigible criminal, or an incorrigible flirt. The noun is incorrigibility. Make sure to stress the second syllable (corr) of both noun and adjective—in-KORR-i-ji-bi-li-tee and in-KORR-i-ji-b’l.

4. veterans

Inveterate is from a Latin root vetus, old (from which we also derive veteran), and typically applies to something which is bad or harmful. An inveterate gambler is a gambler from way back; an inveterate drinker has been imbibing for so long that he has, figuratively speaking, grown old with the vice; and, of course, an inveterate liar has been lying for so long, and his habits are by now so deep-rooted, that one can scarcely remember (the word implies) when he ever told a truth. Don’t use inveterate in reference to a person or quality you admire, for the word is intended to have a derogatory implication.

5. birth

There are a host of valuable, expressive words, words teeming with ideas, which are built on the classical root gen, to give birth to or to be born. Genetics is the science which treats of the transmission of hereditary characteristics from parents to offspring; the scientist specializing in the field is a geneticist, and the actual part of the germ cell containing these hereditary characteristics is known as a gene.

Continuing our exploration, we find genealogy (often misspelled geneology), the study of a persons ancestor’s or family tree; eugenics, the science which studies means of improving the human race by mating of people whose genes will produce the best possible offspring (eu is a Greek prefix meaning good—so the name Eugene or Eugenia literally means well-born); the genital, or sexual, organs, which operate for the purpose of giving birth; genesis, the beginning, birth, or origin of anything (that portion of the Bible, for example, which is called Genesis is concerned with the birth of the world); and psychogenic, born of the mind or emotions.

Congenital, then, means acquired at birth; it should not be confused with hereditary, which describes a condition acquired at the conception of the individual, when the male sperm meets the female egg, or ovum. Thus, eye color, nose shape, hair texture, and other such qualities are hereditary; they are determined by the genes in the germ cells of the mother and father. But if the mother has syphilis at the time of the actual delivery of the infant, the child may be born with congenital blindness—during the passage from the mother’s uterus, or womb, he will become infected. Any congenital condition is acquired during the nine-month residence within the mother’s womb; any hereditary condition is acquired at the split second of conception. To go deeper into this subject (and it is, believe me, a most fascinating subject), read Amram Scheinfeld’s lively and informative book, You and Heredity (J. B. Lippincott Company, publishers).

Congenital is used both literally and figuratively. Literally, it generally refers to some medical deformity acquired at birth: congenital syphilis, congenital clubfoot, et cetera. Figuratively, it exaggerates, for effect, the implication of strength and very early existence of some quality: congenital liar, a congenital aversion to blondes, congenital fear of the dark, et cetera. And don’t confuse congenital with congenial, which comes from a different root. Two people are congenial if they have the same tastes and interests, if they get along agreeably; a congenial atmosphere is conducive to one’s psychical comfort, suitable to one’s temperament.

6. of time and place

A chronic liar lies constantly, continuously, without a break in time; a chronic invalid is always, or almost always, sick; a chronic smoker does not light up a cigarette occasionally, but is a steady devotee of nicotine. You can thus see the strong implication of the idea of time in chronic—which is only natural, since the word is derived from Greek chronos, time. This root is also found in anachronism, something out of time, out of date, or belonging to a different era, either earlier or later. For example, a mother scolds her sixteen-year-old daughter for using lipstick and going to dances. Daughter responds: “Oh mother! Your attitude is so anachronous!” The girl, who not only has more common sense, but also, perhaps, a better vocabulary, than her parent, means that her mother’s ideas belong to an earlier century, when, indeed, girls of sixteen did not wear lipstick (at least not the respectable ones) or go to dances unchaperoned. Today social conditions are very different. Or wander along Fifty-ninth Street and Central Park in New York some Sunday. You will see horse-drawn carriages with top-hatted coachmen—a vestige of the 1800s. Surrounded by twentieth century motorcars and modern skyscraper buildings, these romantic vehicles of a bygone era are anachronous. Or dial your radio to the Buck Rogers program—you will hear of space ships, rockets to the moon, atomic annihilators, and other such paraphernalia of the remote future. Here again we are dealing with an anachronism—something which does not belong to the present time.

An anachronism, anything you call anachronous, or anachronistic (both adjective forms are equally popular), must be out of time with its surroundings; if something is out of place, call it incongruous. Thus, it is incongruous to wear a sweater and slacks to a full-dress wedding; it is anachronous to wear the wasp waist, conspicuous bustle, and powdered wig of the eighteenth century. The noun form of incongruous is incongruity.

Continuing with chronos, time, we also have chronological, incorrect time order (to tell a story chronologically, that is, in the order of its occurrence); chronometer, a time-measuring device, such as a watch or clock; and chronicle, a history or record of events that happened at one time.

Not to omit synchronize, a verb which combines the Greek root syn, same, with chronos, time. If you and your friends synchronize your watches, you set them at the same time. If you synchronize the activity of your arms and legs, as in swimming, you move them at the same time. The adjective is synchronous.

7. suffering and feeling

We are already familiar with the parts of psychopathic—the first half is from Greek psyche, mind, the second from Greek patheia, disease, suffering, feeling. A psychopathic liar has a mental illness which makes it impossible for him to distinguish fact from fantasy—his lying is, therefore, without discernible or rational purpose, and, odd as it may sound, he has no consciousness that he is telling an untruth.

Patheia, disease, suffering, or feeling is found in a number of other English words.

1. If you have the same feeling as someone else, if you suffer in the same way, you are sympathetic. (Sym, same, is another spelling of the root syn which we discovered in synchronize.)

2. On the other hand, if your feeling is against someone, you are unfriendly or hostile—then we speak of your antipathy, a word which is somewhat stronger than dislike or aversion. The adjective is antipathetic. (Anti is a root meaning against or opposite)

3. To take a third possibility, you may have no feeling at all—then you are apathetic. Here again we find the initial a giving a negative force to a word of Greek derivation, as it did earlier to atom and anachronous. Apathy is a lack of feeling or interest where one would normally expect some feeling to be shown.

4. In medical school, students study anatomy, physiology, materia medica, surgery, et cetera. They also study the origin, nature, cause, and cure of diseases. We already know that the root for study of is ology—combining it with path, we get pathology, the study of disease. The adjective pathological means diseased—a pathological condition in a person is an unhealthy, diseased condition.

5. If something can evoke in you a reaction to someone’s suffering, it is pathetic. Pathos is the quality in speech, music, literature, or drama which can make you sad or sympathetic—in other words, make you suffer or understand the suffering of someone else.

6. A good deal of research is being done today (1949) by Dr. J. B. Rhine and his associates at Duke University on extrasensory perception; you will find an interesting account of Rhine’s work in his book The Reach of the Mind. What makes it possible for two people separated by miles of space to communicate with each other without recourse to messenger, telephone, telegraph, or the postal service? It can be done, say the believers in telepathy, though they do not yet admit to knowing how. How can one person read the mind of another? Simple—he’s telepathic; but no one can explain the chemistry or biology of it. Telepathy is built by combining patheia, feel, with tele, from afar. Telepathic communication occurs when people can feel each other’s thoughts from afar. Tele, from afar, is found also in telephone, sound from afar, and telegraph, writing from afar.

Two other interesting words containing our root patheia, homeopathy and allopathy, will be discussed in a later chapter.

8. no conscience

Unconscionable is, of course, related to the word conscience. An unconscionable act or crime is one that shows the perpetrator to be wholly without conscience. The conscience of the unconscionable liar gives him no uncomfortable moments, despite the agony or misery he may cause others.

9. fool some of the people . . .

Glib is from an old English root which means slippery. A glib liar or a glib talker is smooth and slippery; he has a ready answer, a fluent tongue, a persuasive air—but, such is the implication of the word, he fools only the most ignorant, for his smoothness lacks sincerity and conviction.

10. herds and flocks

In egregious we find the useful Latin root greg, which means herd. Any egregious lie, act, crime, mistake, et cetera is so vicious that it actually stands out from the herd, the way a black sheep is conspicuous among white ones. The same root (greg) is also found in gregarious, an adjective applied to a person who enjoys companionship, who, literally, likes to be “with the herd.” Extroverts are gregarious—they prefer mixing with people to being alone. All normal human beings are gregarious at least to a degree—they get a feeling of warmth and kinship from engaging in group activities such as going to the theater, taking part in or watching athletic events, or attending parties. A congregation is a religious “herd”; and to segregate someone or something is to remove him or it from the herd.

USING THE WORDS: II

Can you pronounce the words?

1. notoriety

no-to-RYE-e-tee

2. to consummate

KON-su-mayt (but the adjective is
pronounced kon-SUM-it)

3. consummation

KON-su-may-shun

4. incorrigibility

in-KORR-i-ji-bi-li-tee

5. genetics

je-NET-iks

6. geneticist

je-NET-i-sist

7. gene

JEAN

8. eugenics

yoo-JEN-iks

9. genital

GEN-i-t’l

10. ovum

O-vum

11. uterus

YOO-ter-us

12. heredity

he-RED-i-tee

13. hereditary

he-RED-i-ter-ee

14. anachronism

a-NAK-ro-nizm

15. anachronous

a-NAK-ro-nuss

16. anachronistic

a-NAK-ro-niss-tik

17. incongruous

in-KONG-groo-us

18. incongruity

in-kong-GROO-i-tee

19. chronological

kron-o-LODGE-i-k’l

20. chronometer

kro-NOM-e-ter

21. chronicle

KRON-i-k’l

22. synchronize

SIN-kro-nyze

23. Asynchronous

SIN-kro-nus

24. pathetic

pa-THET-ik

25. pathos

PAY-thoss

26. pathology

pa-THOL-o-jee

27. pathological

path-o-LODGE-i-k’l

28. apathetic

ap-a-THET-ik

29. antipathy

an-TIP-a-thee

30. apathy

AP-a-thee

31. gregarious

gre-GAIR-ee-us

32. antipathetic

an-tee-pa-THET-ik

33. segregate

SEG-re-gayt

34. telepathy

te-LEP-a-thee

35. telepathic

tel-a-PATH-ik

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and definitions.

1. notoriety

a. impossibility of reforming or correcting

2. consummation

b. something out of time

3. incorrigibility

c. that part of the cell which transmits
characteristics

4. genetics

d. completion

5. gene

e. science of favorable births

6. eugenics

f. public knowledge of one’s misdeeds

7. ovum

g. human egg

8. anachronism

h. science dealing with the transmission of
characteristics from parents to offspring

KEY: 1—f, 2—d, 3—a, 4—h, 5—c, 6—e, 7—g, 8—b

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. incongruity

a. record of events

2. chronicle

b. power of evoking sadness

3. pathos

c. setting to the same time

4. apathy

d. study of disease

5. pathology

e. aversion, dislike

6. synchronization

f. timepiece

7. chronometer

g. something out of place

8. antipathy

h. lack of feeling or interest

9. uterus

i. womb

10. telepathy

j. mind reading; extrasensory communication

KEY: 1—g, 2—a, 3—b, 4—h, 5—d, 6—c, 7—f, 8—e, 9—i, 10—j

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. segregated

a. out of time

2. gregarious

b. unfeeling

3. apathetic

c. in order of time

4. pathological

d. at the same time

5. pathetic

e. diseased

6. synchronous

f. received from parents

7. anachronousg

g. separated

8. chronological

h. causing a feeling of sadness

9. hereditary

i. reproductive

10. genital

j. company-loving

KEY: 1—g, 2—j, 3—b, 4—e, 5—h, 6—d, 7—a, 8—c, 9—f, 10—i

Can you work with the words? (IV)

1. notorious

a. beyond correction

2. consummate (adj.)

b. from birth

3. incorrigible

c. mentally deranged

4. inveterate

d. highly skilled; artistic

5. congenital

e. suspiciously smooth

6. chronic

f. without conscience

7. psychopathic

g. remaining for a long time

8. unconscionable

h. unfavorably known

9. glib

i. viciously bad

10. egregious

j. long-habituated

KEY: 1—h, 2—d, 3—a, 4—j, 5—b, 6—g, 7—c, 8—f, 9—e, 10—i

Do you understand the words?

Check the correct response.

Can you recall the words?

Now that you have read about, mentally digested, said aloud, and worked with the new words we have been discussing, you are sufficiently alert to them to be able to write each one next to its short definition—and if you wish to make this an acid test of your affinity for words, attempt to fill in as many blanks as you can without referring to any foregoing list.

CHAPTER REVIEW

Can you recognize the words?

Check the word that most closely fits each definition.

1. Highly skilled:

(a) consummate, (b) inveterate, (c) notorious

2. Beyond reform:

(a) inveterate, (b) incorrigible, (c) glib

3. Dating from birth:

(a) inveterate, (b) congenital, (c) psychopathic

4. Outstandingly bad:

(a) egregious, (b) unconscionable, (c) chronic

5. Science of heredity:

(a) pathology, (b) genetics, (c) orthopedics

6. Womb:

(a) ovum, (b) gene, (c) uterus

7. Science of good births:

(a) eugenics, (b) heredity, (c) genealogy

8. Out of time:

(a) incongruous, (b) anachronous, (c) synchronous

9. Study of diseases:

(a) pathology, (b) telepathy, (c) antipathy

10. Fond of company, friends, group activities, et cetera:

(a) apathetic, (b) gregarious, (c) chronological

11. Indifferent:

(a) antipathetic, (b) pathetic, (c) apathetic

KEY: 1—a, 2—b, 3—b, 4—a, 5—b, 6—c, 7—a, 8—b, 9—a, 10—b, 11—c

FOUR LASTING BENEFITS

This brings us close to the end of your first week’s work. You know by now that it is easy to build your vocabulary if you work diligently and intelligently. Diligence is important—to come to the book occasionally is to learn new words and ideas in an aimless fashion, rather than in the continuous way that characterizes the natural, uninterrupted, intellectual growth of a child. (You will recall that children are top experts in increasing their vocabularies.) And an intelligent approach is crucial—new words can be completely understood and permanently remembered only as symbols of vital ideas, never if memorized in long lists of isolated forms.

If you have worked diligently and intelligently, you have done much more than merely learned a few hundred new words. Actually, I needn’t tell you what else you’ve accomplished, since, if you really have accomplished it, you can feel it for yourself; but it may be useful if I verbalize the feelings you may have.

In addition to learning the meanings, pronunciation, background, and use of some 250 valuable words, you have:

1. Begun to sense a change in your intellectual atmosphere. (You have begun to do your thinking with many of the words, with many of the ideas behind the words. You have begun to use the words in your speech and writing, and have become alert to their appearance in your reading.)

2. Begun to develop a new interest in words as expressions of ideas.

3. Begun to be conscious of the words you hear about you and that you yourself use.

4. Begun to gain a new feeling for the relationship between words. (For you realize that many words are built on roots from other languages and are related to other words which stem from the same roots.)

These accomplishments may not sound like much—they only mean that you have given yourself a chance to continue your intellectual growth. It’s a little hard to think, however, what more anyone can ask of life!

But, in fine, vocabulary building is just that—a method of continuing one’s intellectual growth.

Now, before we go on, suppose we pause to see how successful your learning has been.

Directly after the next “Brief Intermission,” I will offer you a comprehensive test of the first week of your work. Take it only when you feel that you have absorbed all that has gone before. You may first wish to skim through the previous chapters, nailing down once again all the words, ideas, forms, pronunciations, and spellings. Or, on the other hand, you may have been working so carefully that you now feel competent to answer any question I may put to you—if so, go right ahead with the test

BRIEF INTERMISSION FIVE:
HOW TO SPEAK NATURALLY

Consider this statement by Louis Bromfield, noted author of Malabar Farm: “If I, as a novelist, wrote dialogue for my characters which was meticulously grammatical, the result would be the creation of a speech which rendered the characters pompous and unreal.”

And this one by Jacques Barzun, former literary critic for Harper’s: “Speech, after all, is in some measure an expression of character, and flexibility in its use is a good way to tell your friends from the robots.”

Consider also this puckish remark by the late Clarence Darrow: “Even if you do learn to speak correct English, who are you going to speak it to?”

These are typical reactions of professional people to the old restrictions of formal English grammar. Do the actual teachers of English feel the same way? Again, some typical statements:

“Experts and authorities do not make decisions and rules, by logic or otherwise, about correctness,” says E. A. Cross, Professor of English at the Greeley, Colorado, College of Education. “All they can do is observe the customs of cultivated and educated people and report their findings.”

“Grammar is only an analysis after the facts, a post-mortem on usage,” says Stephen Leacock in How To Write, “Usage comes first and usage must rule.”

One way to discover current trends in usage is to poll a cross section of people who use the language professionally, inquiring as to their opinion of the acceptability, in everyday speech, of certain specific and controversial expressions. A questionnaire I prepared recently was answered by eighty-two such people—thirty-one authors, seven book reviewers, thirty-three editors, and eleven professors of English. The results, some of which will be detailed below, may possibly prove startling to you if you have been conditioned to believe, as most of us have, that correct English is rigid, unchangeable, and exclusively dependent on grammatical rules.

TEST YOURSELF

1. Californians boast of the healthy climate of their state.

RIGHT. There is a distinction, says formal grammar, between healthy and healthful. A person can be healthy—I am still quoting the rule—if he possesses good health. But climate must be healthful, since it is conducive to health. This distinction is sometimes observed in writing but rarely in everyday speech, as you have probably noticed. Even the dictionaries have stopped splitting hairs—they permit you to say healthy no matter which of the two meanings you intend.

“Healthy climate” was accepted as current educated usage by twenty-six of the thirty-three editors who answered the questionnaire, six of the seven book reviewers, nine of the eleven professors of English, and twenty of the thirty-one authors. The earlier distinction, in short, is rapidly becoming obsolete.

2. Her new novel is not as good as her first one.

RIGHT. If you have studied formal grammar, you will recall that after a negative verb the “proper” word is so, not as. Is this rule observed by educated speakers? Hardly ever, I should say, unless they are of pedantic inclination, or believe that a grammar censor, armed with a sharp red pencil, is listening.

In reference to the sentence under discussion, Thomas W. Duncan, author of Gus the Great, remarked: “I always say—and write—as, much to the distress of my publisher’s copyreader. But the fellow is a wretched purist.”

The tally on this use of as showed seventy-four for, only eight against.

3. We can’t hardly believe it.

WRONG. Of the eighty-two professional people who answered my questionnaire, seventy-six rejected this sentence; it is evident that can’t hardly is far from acceptable in educated speech. Preferred usage: We can hardly believe it.

4. This is her.

WRONG. This substitution of her where the rule requires she was rejected by fifty-seven of my eighty-two respondents. Paradoxically enough, although “It’s me” and “This is me” are fully established in educated speech, “This is her” still seems to be condemned by the majority of cultivated speakers. Nevertheless, the average person, I imagine, may feel a bit uncomfortable saying “This is she”—it sounds almost too sophisticated.

This is more than an academic problem. If the voice at the other end of a telephone conversation makes the opening move with “I’d like to speak to Jane Doe (your name, for argument’s sake),” you are, unfortunately, on the horns of a very real dilemma. “This is she” may sound prissy—”This is her” may give the impression that you’re uneducated. Other choices are equally doubtful. “Talking!” is suspiciously businesslike if the call comes to your home, and “I am Jane Doe!” may make you feel like the opening line of a high-school tableau. The need for a decision arises several times in a busy day—and, I am sorry to report, the English language is just deficient enough not to be of much help. I wonder how it would be if you just grunted affably?

5. Who are you waiting for?

RIGHT. Formal grammar not only requires whom but demands that the word order be changed to: “For whom are you waiting?” (Just try talking with such formality on everyday occasions and see how long you’ll keep your friends.)

Who is the normal, popular form as the first word of a sentence, no matter what the grammatical construction; and an opinion by Kyle Crichton, one of the editors of Collier’s magazine, is typical of the way many educated people feel. Mr. Crichton says: “The most loathsome word (to me at least) in the English language is whom. You can always tell a half-educated buffoon by the care he takes in working the word in. When he starts it, I know I am faced with a pompous illiterate who is not going to have me long as company.”

The score for acceptance of the sentence as it stands (with who) was sixty-six out of eighty-two. If, like most unpedantic speakers, you prefer who to whom for informal occasions, or if you feel as strongly about whom as Mr. Crichton does, you will be happy to hear that modern trends in English are all on your side.

6. Please take care of whomever is waiting.

WRONG. Whomever is awkward and a little silly in this sentence and brings to mind Franklin P. Adams’s famous remark on grammar: “ ‘Whom are you?’ asked Cyril, for he had been to night school.” It is also contrary to grammatical rule. People who are willing to be sufficiently insufferable to use whomever in this construction have been tempted into error by the adjacent word of. They believe that since they are following a preposition with an objective pronoun they are speaking impeccable grammar. In actuality, however, whomever is not the object of the preposition of but the subject of the verb is waiting. Preferable form: Please take care of whoever is waiting.

7. Whom would you like to be if you weren’t yourself?

WRONG. Here is another and typical example of the damage which an excessive reverence for whom can do to an innocent person’s speech. Judged by grammatical rule, whom is incorrect in this sentence (the verb to be requires who); judged by normal speech patterns, it is absurd. This use of whom probably comes from an abortive attempt to sound elegant.

8. My wife has been robbed!

RIGHT—if something your wife owns was taken by means of thievery. However, if your wife herself was kidnaped, or in some way talked into leaving you, she was stolen, not robbed. To rob is to abscond with the contents of something—to steal is to walk off with the thing itself. Needless to say, both forms of activity are highly antisocial and equally illegal.

9. Is this desert fattening?

WRONG. The dessert that is fattening is spelled with two s’s. With one s, it’s a desert, like the Sahara. Remember the two s’s in dessert by thinking how much you’d like two portions, if only your waistline permitted them.

8

HOW TO CHECK YOUR FIRST
WEEK’S PROGRESS

THE first section of the book should not have taken you more than a week to go through. In that time, if you have worked diligently, you have accomplished the following feats:

1. Become acquainted, or perhaps reacquainted, with approximately 250 expressive words—

2. Learned over forty important Latin and Greek roots—

3. Set up valuable habits of self-discipline and self-directed learning—

4. Explored your attitudes toward grammar and current usage, meanwhile erasing any confusion you may once have felt about specific problems of correctness in your use of words—

5. And, finally, taken good, long steps toward your ultimate goal—namely, the development of a better, richer, more expressive vocabulary.

Now let us pause for breath, let us take a quick review of all you have learned. For this purpose, I shall select, at random, a number of words and roots from each chapter, and ask you to test your memory of their meanings and uses.

Methods of scoring your achievement on this test, and the significance of your results, will be explained shortly.

I—roots

Directions: In the table below you will find a number of roots we have discussed, with an example of their use. It is your job to fill in the meaning of each one.

II—more roots

Directions: Here are ten words we have studied, each with its root underlined. In the appropriate blank, write the meaning of that root.

1. entomology

1.  ————

2. philatelist

2.  ————

3. optometrist

3.  ————

4. orthopedics

4.  ————

5. cardiac

5.  ————

6. podiatry

6.  ————

7. psychopathic

7.  ————

8. gregarious

8.  ————

9. anachronism

9.  ————

10. congenital

10.  ————

III—same or opposite?

Directions: If each pair of words is similar in meaning, check S; if more nearly opposite, check O.

IV—true or false?

Directions: If the statement is factually accurate, check T; if factually inaccurate, check F.

V—matching

Directions: Choose the word from second column which belongs to each function in first column.

1. dislikes women

a. entomologist

2. is pathologically self-interested

b. taxidermist

3. studies the development of the human race

c. egomaniac

4. is an expert on insects

d. bibliophile

5. collects books

e. ophthalmologist

6. mounts and stuffs animals

f. psychopath

7. is an eye doctor

g. philologist

8. is a student of linguistics

h. anthropologist

9. is anxious and unadjusted

i. neurotic

10. is insane

j. misogynist

VI—more matching

Directions: As on Test V.

I

II

1. delivers babies

a. pediatrician

2. treats female ailments

b. cardiologist

3. treats infants

c. psychiatrist

4. treats skin diseases

d. chiropodist

5. treats deformities

e. dermatologist

6. heart specialist

f. psychoanalyst

7. treats mental abnormalities

g. obstetrician

8. treats nervous disorders

h. neurologist

9. treats minor ailments of the feet

i. orthopedist

10. applies Freudian techniques

j. gynecologist

VII—recall a word

Directions: Write the word we have studied that best fits each definition. The initial letter is offered to guide your thinking.

VIII—choose a word

Directions: Check the one word, of the three offered, which best fits each definition.

1. science of the heavens: a. astrology, b. astronomy, c. phrenology.

2. science of the composition of the earth: a. geography, b. astrophysics, c. geology.

3. dissection of a corpse: a. biopsy, b. autopsy, c. zoology.

4. eye doctor: a. oculist, b. optometrist, c. optician.

5. foot doctor: a. pediatrician, b. podiatrist, c. taxidermist.

6. student of word meanings: a. semanticist, b. geneticist, c. graphologist.

7. diagnostician: a. cardiologist, b. intern, c. internist.

8. conceited: a. egoist, b. egotist, c. misanthropist.

9. equally skilled in both hands: a. ambivert, b. ambidextrous, c. bigamist.

10. to complete: a. to consummate, b. to segregate, c. to psychoanalyze.

IX—pronounce a word

Directions: Check the correct pronunciation.

1. psychiatrist: a. sye-kee-AT-rist, b. sye-KYE-a-trist.

2. misanthropy: a. miss-in-THROE-pee, b. miss-AN-thro-pee.

3. ascetic: a. a-SEE-tic, b. a-SET-ic.

4. egomaniacal: a. ee-go-MAY-nee-ak’l b. ee-go-ma-NYE-a-k’l

5. anachronism: a. AN-a-kro-nizm, b. a-NACK-ro-nizm.

6. misogynous: a. miss-o-JYE-nus, b. mi-SODGE-in-us.

7. podiatric: a. poe-DYE-a-trik, b. poe-dee-AT-rik.

8. consummate (adj.): a. KON-su-mit, b. kon-SUM-it.

9. incorrigible: a. in-ko-RIDGE-a-b’l, b. in-KORR-i-ji-b’l.

10. egregious: a. e-GREG-ee-us, b. e-GREE-jus.

X—choose the correct word

Directions: Check the preferable grammatical form.

1. I (can, can’t) hardly hear you.

2. Send in (whoever, whomever) is waiting.

3. (Who, whom) do you think you are, anyway?

4. My watch has been (robbed, stolen).

5. What kind of (dessert, desert) would you like?

6. What is your (principle, principal) occupation?

7. Are you going to ask my wife and (I, me) to your party?

8. It’s strictly between you and (I, me).

9. Every one of his friends (hate, hates) him.

10. No one passed the test except (I, me).

11. Do you want to (lay, lie) down for a while?

12. They (hung, hanged) the horse thief.

13. How many (spoonfuls, spoonsful) of baking soda does the recipe call for?

14. Are you (implying, inferring) that I’m a liar?

15. The general and colonel are (alumni, alumnae) of West Point.

XI—change a word

Directions: Write the required part of speech.

1. Change pediatrician to the noun denoting the specialty:

___________________ is an interesting profession.

2. Change orthodontist similarly:

His specialty is ___________________.

3. Change anachronism to an adjective:

It was an ___________________ sight.

4. Change neurasthenia to the word that applies to a person.

He’s a ___________________.

5. Change ambidextrous to a noun.

His total ___________________ is amazing.

SCORING

Each correct answer counts one point. Score your points next to each part of the test, then add for a total. Significance of your credits will be explained directly after the answers.

I.

1—I, 2—hate, 3—marriage, 4—woman, 5—skin, 6—change, 7—mind, soul, spirit, 8—nerve, 9—study of, 10—life

II.

1—cut, 2—love, 3—measure, 4—child, 5—heart, 6—foot, 7—disease, feeling, suffering, 8—herd, 9—time, 10—birth

III.

1—0, 2—0, 3—0, 4—S, 5—S, 6—S, 7—S, 8—0, 9—0, 10—0

IV.

1—f, 2—f, 3—t, 4—f, 5—f, 6—t, 7—f, 8—f, 9—t, 10—f V. 1—j, 2—c, 3—h, 4—a, 5—d, 6—b, 7—e, 8—g, 9—i, 10—f

VI.

1—g, 2—j, 3—a, 4—e, 5—i, 6—b, 7—c, 8—h, 9—d, 10—f

VII.

1—unconscionable, 2—glib, 3—egregious, 4—incongruous, 5—genealogy, 6—genetics, 7—chronological, dermatitis, 9—cardiogram, 10—congenial

VIII.

1—b, 2—c, 3—b, 4—a, 5—b, 6—a, 7—c, 8—b, 9—b, 10—a

IX.

All b pronunciations are correct.

X.

1—can, 2—whoever, 3—who, 4—stolen, 5—dessert, 6—principal, 7—me, 8—me, 9—hates, 10—me, 11—lie, 12—hanged, 13—spoonfuls, 14—implying, 15—alumni

XI.

1—pediatrics, 2—orthodontia, 3—anachronous or anachronistic, 4—neurasthenic, 5—ambidexterity

SIGNIFICANCE OF YOUR SCORE

The 110 responses you were asked to make were no child’s play, and I shall not pretend for a moment that they were. Your score indicates, then, how successfully you have mastered the preceding chapters of this book. Add up your individual points and locate your total in the following table:

100–110 | Masterly work; you are ready to shoot right ahead.
85–99 | Good work; however, be more careful in the next sections of the book.

75–84

Average work; you’re getting a good deal out of your study, but not enough. Perhaps you should review more carefully after you do each day’s stint.

60–74 | Barely acceptable; work harder.
40–59 | Poor; further review is suggested before you go on.
0–39 | You can do much better if you really try; start again with firmer resolve and more interest.

All right, that seals off, temporarily, this first section. Go right ahead now to further adventures and explorations as you bring closer and closer your goal of acquiring a bigger and better vocabulary.

YOUR SCORE ON
THE FIRST ACHIEVEMENT TEST: —— out of 110

BRIEF INTERMISSION SIX:
DO YOU ALWAYS
USE THE PROPER WORD?

The fact is that grammar is getting more liberal every day. Common usage has put a stamp of approval on many expressions which your grandmother would not have dared utter in her most intimate conversation—not if she believed she was in the habit of using good English. It is me; have you got a cold?; it’s a nice day; can I have another piece of cake?; she is a most aggravating child; will everybody please remove their hats—all these today represent perfectly correct grammar for everyday conversation. Modern grammar research reports that these expressions have become universal in educated speech.

However, such a liberal policy does not mean that all bars are down. Only a person whose speech borders on the illiterate would make such statements as: Can you learn me to swim?; he don’t live here no more; we ain’t working so good; me and my husband are glad to see you. There are still certain minimum essentials of good English which the cultivated speaker carefully observes.

Is your grammar as good as the next person’s? Here’s a quick test by which you can measure your ability.

Check the preferable choice in each sentence, then compare your results with the key at the end. Allowing 4 per cent for each correct answer, consider 92–100 excellent, 76–88 good, 68–72 average, and any lower score an indication that your English leaves something to be desired.

1. What (a—effect, b—affect) does Frank Sinatra have on you?

2. What’s the sense (a—in, b—of) looking for a husband after you’re thirty?

3. She won’t (a—leave, b—let) us see her new boy friend.

4. What (a—kind of, b—kind of a) dress do you want?

5. Her (a—principle, b—principal) objection to neurotics is that they are difficult to live with.

6. The murderer was (a—hanged, b—hung) two hours before the governor’s pardon arrived.

7. The trouble with most men’s family lives is their (a—mother-in-laws, b—mothers-in-law).

8. For a light cake, use two (a—spoonfuls, b—spoonsful) of baking powder.

9. Everyone likes you but (a—she, b—her).

10. Sally sent a gift for (a—him and me, b—he and I).

11. The data which you’ve sent me (a—is, b—are) inconclusive.

12. The cost of new houses (a—is, b—are) finally dropping.

13. Irene as well as her husband (a—has, b—have) come to see you.

14. (a—Is, b—Are) either of your sisters working?

15. If Clark Gable or Franchot Tone (a—is, b—are) your ideal, you are no bobby soxer.

16. One or two of her features (a—is, b—are) very attractive.

17. Can you visit Mary and (a—I, b—me) tonight?

18. He is totally (a—uninterested, b—disinterested) in your personal affairs.

19. She (a—laid, b—lay) on the beach while her son splashed at the water’s edge.

20. (a—Who, b—Whom) would you rather be if you weren’t yourself?

21. You should not (a—have, b—of) spoken so harshly.

22. She is one of those women who (a—is, b—are) always making up in public.

23. It is I who (a—is, b—am) your best friend.

24. What we need in this country (a—is, b—are) more blondes.

25. I’m smarter than Gladys, but she’s prettier than (a—I, b—me).

ANSWERS: 1—a, 2—a, 3—b, 4—a, 5—b, 6—a, 7—b, 8—a, 9—b,10—a, 11—b, 12—a, 13—a, 14—a, 15—a, 16—b, 17—b, 18—a, 19—b, 20—a, 21—a, 22—b, 23—b, 24—a, 25—a

SECOND WEEK
GAINING INCREASED MOMENTUM

9

HOW TO TALK
ABOUT ACTIONS

TEASER PREVIEW

What verb means to:

• belittle?

• be purposely confusing?

• tickle someone’s fancy?

• flatter fulsomely?

• prohibit some food or activity?

• make unnecessary?

• work against?

• spread slander?

• give implicit forgiveness for a misdeed?

• change hostility to friendliness?

THERE are words, as you doubtless recall from your high-school study of grammar, which describe action.

These words are called verbs.

Every sentence which you think, say, read, or write contains an implied or expressed verb, for it is the verb which carries the action, the message, the thought of the sentence.

Young children learning to talk use verbs fairly early.

Their very first words, of course, are likely to be nouns, as they name the things or people around them.

Mama, dada, doll, baby, bottle, et cetera will probably be the first standard syllables (intelligible naturally only to its fond parents) that an infant will utter, for naming concrete things or real persons is the first step in the development of language ability.

Soon there will come the ability to express intangible ideas, and then the growing child begins to use simple verbs—go, stop, stay, want, eat, sleep, et cetera.

As maturity is reached, the verbs express ideas of greater and greater complexity; and the intelligent, mature adult can describe the most involved actions in a few simple syllables—if he has a good store of useful verbs at his command.

The richer and more extensive a person’s vocabulary of verbs, the more accurately and expressively he can describe the subtlest actions, reactions, attitudes, and emotions.

With the proper verb you can pin-point an action down to the last detail.

Let’s be specific.

IDEAS

1. playing it down

Harry Truman couldn’t win the 1948 election. The pollsters said so, the Republicans heartily agreed, even the Democrats, some in high places, believed it. Mr. Truman himself was perhaps the only voter in the country who was not entirely convinced.

Came the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November—well, if you were one of those who stayed up most of the night listening to the returns, and then kept your ear to the radio most of the next day, you recall how you reacted to the unique Truman triumph.

It was no mean accomplishment, thought many people. Pure accident, said others. If one out of twelve voters in a few key states had changed his ballot, Harry could have gone back to selling ties, one Republican apologist pointed out. It wasn’t anything Truman did, said another; it was what Dewey didn’t do. No credit to Truman, said a third; it was the farmers—or labor—or the Republicans who hadn’t bothered to vote—or the ingenious miscounting of ballots. No credit to Truman, insisted a fourth; it was Wallace’s candidacy—it was the Democrats—it was Republican overconfidence—it was sunspots—it was the Communists—it was the civil service workers who didn’t want to lose their cushy jobs—it was really Roosevelt who won the election.

Anyway Harry didn’t accomplish a thing—he was just a victim of good fortune.

What were the apologists for Dewey’s failure doing?

They were disparaging Truman’s achievement.

2. playing it safe

Of course, Dewey did campaign, in his own way, for the presidency. As the Republican aspirant, he had to take a stand on the controversial Taft-Hartley act.

Was he for it? He was for that part of it which was good. Naturally, he was against any of the provisions which were bad. Was he for it? The answer was yes—and also no. Take whichever answer you wanted most to hear.

What was Dewey doing?

He was equivocating.

3. enjoying the little things

Have you ever gone through a book that was so good you kept hugging yourself mentally as you read? Have you ever seen a play or motion picture that was so charming that you felt sheer delight as you watched? Or perhaps you have had a portion of pumpkin-chiffon pie, light and airy and mildly flavored, and with a flaky, delicious crust, that was the last word in gustatory enjoyment?

Now notice the examples I have used. I have not spoken of books that grip you emotionally, of plays and movies that keep you on the edge of your seat in suspense, or of food that satisfies a ravenous hunger. These would offer quite a different, perhaps more lasting and memorable, type of enjoyment. I have detailed, rather, mental or physical stimuli that excite enjoyably but not too sharply—a delightful novel, a charming play, a delicious dessert.

How do such things affect you?

They titillate you.

4. playing it way up

You know how the “bobby soxers” once adored, idolized, and overwhelmed Frank Sinatra—or how mature women have had similar reactions to Charles Boyer and, earlier, to Rudolph Valentino.

And of course you know how certain unpleasant types of people fall all over a visiting celebrity—a best-selling author, a much publicized general, or a famous entertainer. They show him (such is life that it is more likely to be “him” than “her”) fierce and servile attention, they worship and flatter him fulsomely, excessively, almost sickeningly—and 100 per cent insincerely.

How do we say it in a single word?

They adulate him.

5. accentuating the negative

What does the doctor say to the diabetic? No sugar, no pastries, no ice cream, no white bread, et cetera, the patient’s morale dropping lower and lower as each food is placed on the verboten list.

And what does the sufferer from a heart ailment hear? No stairs, no more than a few hours of work each day, no excitement, very little sex, stay off the tennis courts . . .

And if it’s a question of ulcers? No pickled herring, no salami or frankfurters, no martinis, manhattans, or tom collinses . . .

What’s the doctor doing?

He’s proscribing foods, pleasures, activities.

6. accentuating the explosive

Consider a young woman aged twenty-four. She has the svelte slimness that plumper women would gladly die for, and a rich, proud, bosom that would stop a healthy man at fifty yards. Her face would put Helen of Troy to shame, and her profile (which she is never reluctant to show) is devastating.

That’s on the physical side of the ledger. Emotionally, she’s warm, sympathetic, gay, alternately serious and saucy, passionately interested in life and people, free of complexes, conflicts, or inhibitions. In addition, she’s a fascinating talker but an even better listener.

Now don’t get excited—I know that this is an idealized, and perhaps impossible, picture. But if such a woman did exist, would she need to have any worries about attracting male companionship?

Such physical, emotional, and mental characteristics would entirely obviate such worries.

7. playing it wrong

Theodor Reik, in his penetrating book on psychoanalysis, Listening With the Third Ear, talks about neurotic people who unconsciously wish to fail. In business interviews they say exactly the wrong words, they do exactly the wrong things, they seem intent (as, unconsciously, they actually are) on insuring failure in every possible way, though consciously they are doing their best to court success.

What effect does such a neurotic tendency have?

It militates against success.

8. thinking the worst

Agnes is always in character. She will meet you on the street, her face wreathed in smiles. “Have you heard about Mrs. Gray?” she gurgles. “Her husband is getting a divorce—he caught her with the milkman!” (Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Gray are probably having a happy lunch in town, just as much in love as ever.)

Or Agnes has come to your home for the evening. “Oh isn’t it terrible about Dick Black?” You know, of course, that even if it is terrible, Agnes feels wonderful about it. “The bank discharged him—his accounts were short; I think he spent it on slow horses and fast women!” (Dick likely doesn’t know the front end of a horse from the rear—and if he’s not quite so ignorant about women, it’s only because he has six daughters. The truth is, no doubt, that another bank offered him a better job. But Agnes always figures it out her own way.)

How does Agnes speak about her neighbors? (Why is perhaps a more important question, but one that only a psychoanalyst could eventually answer.)

She maligns them.

9. giving the benefit of any doubt

Do you think it’s all right to cheat on your income taxes? At least just a little? It’s wrong, of course, but doesn’t everybody do it?

How do you feel about marital infidelity? Are you inclined to overlook the occasional transgressions of the male partner, since, after all, men are essentially polygamous by nature?

If your answer to these questions is in the affirmative, how are you reacting to such transgressions of legal or moral principles?

You condone them.

10. changing hostility

Unwittingly you have done something which has aroused anger and resentment in your best friend. You had no desire to hurt him, yet he makes it obvious that he feels pretty bitter about the whole situation. (Perhaps you failed to invite him to a gathering to which he wanted to come; or you neglected to ask his advice on a matter which he felt was important to him.) His friendship is valuable to you and you wish to restore yourself in his good graces. What would you do?

You would placate your friend.

USING THE WORDS: I

Can you pronounce the words?

The basic ten words which open this section offer no important pronunciation difficulties, and you may therefore be tempted to neglect or ignore this exercise. Don’t. The purpose of the pronunciation tests is not only to give you confidence that you are saying new words correctly—their secondary but very valuable purpose is to get you used to the words by letting you hear them from your own mouth. In psychoanalysis a patient truly believes something only if he says it himself—in vocabulary building a student truly acquires a word only after he has heard it issuing through his own vocal cords.

So say these verbs aloud, as often as you may consider necessary, thinking of their meanings as you go along.

1. disparage

diss-PAR-idge (AR as in carriage)

2. equivocate

ee-KWIV-o-kayt

3. titillate

TITT-i-layt

4. adulate

AJ-yoo-layt

5. proscribe

pro-SCRIBE

6. obviate

OB-vee-ayt

7. militate

MILL-i-tayt

8. malign

ma-LYNE

9. condone

kon-DOAN

10. placate

PLAY-kayt

Can you work with the words?

Match words and definitions.

1. disparage

a. flatter lavishly

2. equivocate

b. work against

3. titillate

c. prohibit

4. adulate

d. forgive

5. proscribe

e. change hostility to friendliness

6. obviate

f. purposely talk in such a way as to be vague and misleading

7. militate

g. slander

8. malign

h. play down

9. condone

i. make unnecessary

10. placate

j. tickle

KEY: 1—h, 2—f, 3—j, 4—a, 5—c, 6—i, 7—b, 8—g, 9—d, 10—e

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to the following questions.

Can you use the words?

In this exercise you can test your ability to put a word to proper use, and in addition gain the value of actually writing a new word as a meaningful solution to a significant problem. To think about a word, to say it, to write it, to use it—that is the road to word mastery. So, without reference to previous tests, write one of our ten verbs that best fits each of the following situations.

1. You’ve been asked to take a stand on a certain issue, but you don’t have the courage to be either definitely for or against.

You ____________________.

2. You spread around an unpleasant story that you know will besmirch someone’s reputation.

You ____________________ him.

3. Your wife has stopped talking to you since you paid so much attention to that gorgeous blonde at the Schapper’s party. So you bring home a big bouquet of roses.

You are trying to ____________________ her.

4. Your boss is a god—at least so you pretend. And you flatter and kowtow to him to a degree that even he finds annoying.

You ____________________ him.

5. You are crowding 260 on the scales—and without a stitch of clothing. So your doctor warns against rich desserts, second helpings, and other such gustatory pleasures.

He ____________________ s these foods.

6. Your child Johnnie has smacked the neighbor’s kid—entirely unprovoked, you are forced to admit. But after all, you think, tomorrow the other kid will smack Johnnie. That’s what childhood is like.

You ____________________ Johnny’s behavior.

7. When your wife, understandably looking for praise, shows you the wonderful bargain she has just bought, you say, “Oh, well! If that’s all you do with your time—just go looking for silly bargains!”

You ____________________ her accomplishment.

8. You were planning to go to the bank to draw some money for a new suit, but an unexpected and big check has come in the morning’s mail.

Receipt of the money ____________________ ed a trip to the bank.

9. You are the soul of honesty, but unfortunately, you have a sneaky, thievish, sinister look—and no one ever trusts you.

Your appearance ____________________ against you.

10. A beautiful, curly-haired, blonde little girl of four captures your fancy. You could spend all day delightedly staring at her.

She ____________________ s you.

KEY: 1—equivocate, 2—malign, 3—placate, 4—adulate, 5—proscribes, 6—condone, 7—disparage, 8—obviated, 9—militates, 10—titillates

Can you recall the words?

Write the proper verb next to each definition.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS

1. equality

If you play golf, you know that each course or hole has a certain par, the number of strokes allowed according to the results achieved by expert players. Your own accomplishment on the course will be at par, above par, or, if you. slept badly or your mother-in-law dropped in for a visit, below par. Par, as you might expect, comes from a Latin word meaning equal; its up to you, when you play, to equal the standard, expert score. When we speak of parity payments to farmers, we refer to payments that show an equality to those for some agreed-upon year. So, when you disparage, you lower someone’s par, or feeling of equality.

Be careful to use the word properly. You do not disparage a person, but only his achievements, accomplishments, attempts, et cetera. Thus: “She disparaged his love-making, claiming she had seen better.” However, you may speak disparagingly of a person, or in disparagement of a person or his work. Thus: “She spoke disparagingly of his love-making, saying she had expected better,” or “She spoke in disparagement of his efforts to make love to her, pointing out that she had turned down better offers.”

Parity as a noun means equality, and its opposite, disparity, means a lack of equality, or a difference. We may speak for example, of the disparity between someone’s promise and his performance; or of the disparity between the rate of vocabulary growth of a child and an adult. The common word compare and all its forms (comparable, comparative, et cetera) also derive from par, equal. Two things are compared when they have certain equal or similar qualities.

2. how to say yes and no

Speaking of equality, that is one of the Latin roots in equivocate; that plus voc, voice or call. When you equivocate, you seem to be saying both yes and no with equal voice. An equivocal answer, therefore, is designedly vague, indefinite, and susceptible of contradictory interpretations, quite the opposite of an unequivocal answer, which says Yes! or No!, and no kidding. Professional politicians are masters of equivocation—they are, on most vital issues, mugwumps; they sit on a fence with their mugs on one side and their wumps on the other. When Truman unequivocally extended recognition to the new state of Israel, he did not hedge, qualify, or leave any doubt as to his meaning. You will often hear a candidate for office say, publicly, that he unequivocally promises, if elected, to . . . ; and then he starts equivocating for all he is worth. Like the salesman who says, “Let me be perfectly frank with you”—and then promptly and glibly lies through his teeth.

You will encounter the root equi, equal, in scores of English words; equity, equidistant, equinox, equation, equanimity, equilibrium, et cetera. Knowing the meaning of the first two syllables of these words will help you puzzle out any that are unfamiliar to you.

And you will encounter voc, voice, or call (also spelled vox and vok) in other scores of English words: magnavox (radio), large voice; vocal, using the voice; vocation, calling; avocation, hobby or something not one’s actual calling; vociferous, in a loud voice; revoke, call back or cancel; convoke, call together; et cetera.

3. statements of various kinds

Do not confuse equivocal with ambiguous. An equivocal statement is purposely, designedly (and with malice aforethought) couched in language that will be deceptive; an ambiguous statement is accidentally couched in such language. Equivocal is, in short, purposely ambiguous. You recall that ambi, which we last met in ambivert and ambidextrous, is a root which means both; anything ambiguous may have both one meaning and an opposite meaning. If you say, “That sentence is the height of ambiguity,” you mean that you find it vague because it admits of both affirmative and negative interpretations, or it may mean two different things.

Certain other types of statements contain possibilities of two interpretations—one of which is suggestive or sexy. Such statements are neither ambiguities nor equivocations, but bear the special French (as you would expect) name of double entendres, which literally translates into “double meanings.” I will refrain, despite great temptation, from offering an example of the double entendre—this out of deference to the postal authorities, but if you are over sixteen years old, I’m sure you understand what I mean, and I am being neither ambiguous nor equivocal—just cautious.

4. how to tickle

Titillate comes from a Latin verb meaning tickle, and may be used both literally and figuratively. That is (literally), you can titillate someone by stroking him gently in strategic places; you are then causing an actual (and always very pleasant) physical sensation; or you can (figuratively) titillate him, or his mind, or his fancy, or his palate (and this is the more common use of the word), by your charm, brilliance, cuteness, attractive appearance, or by any other device your imagination can conceive. And I hope you have a good imagination. The noun is titillation.

5. how to flatter

A compliment is a pleasant and courteous expression of praise; flattery is stronger than a compliment and always insincere. Adulation is flattery carried to a ridiculous, a fantastic degree. There are certain public figures who want, indeed seem to need, the adulation of the mob, probably because they must have constant bolstering of their egos. An adulatory attitude is, remember, basically unwholesome; it springs not out of true and deep admiration, but more often out of a self-seeking wish to identify with someone important or famous.

6. write it down, O’Toole!

Fundamentally, proscribe means to forbid, to prohibit, but the word is commonly restricted today to the medical sense of forbidding the use of any food or drug, of prohibiting any activity that might prove harmful to the patient. You recognize in proscribe the Latin root scrib, to write. In ancient Roman times, a mans name was written on a public bulletin board if he had committed some crime for which his property or life were to be forfeited; Roman citizens in good standing would thereby know to avoid him. In a similar sense, the doctor writes down those foods or activities which are likely to commit crimes against the patient’s health—in that way the patient knows he must avoid them. The word is occasionally used also in a religious sense. The church proscribes, or announces a proscription against, such activities as may harm its parishioners. Generally, one might concede, proscribed activities are the most pleasant ones—as Alexander Woollcott once remarked, if something is pleasurable, it’s sure to be either immoral, illegal, or fattening.

The Latin root scrib is found in a host of English words: prescribe, exactly opposite in meaning to proscribe; scribe; scribble; inscribe; and, in the spelling scrip, scriptures; script; conscription, et cetera.

7. it’s obvious

You are familiar with the word via, by way of, which is from the Latin word for road. (The Via Appia is one of the famous highways of ancient Roman times.) Thus, if you wish to go to New York from Boston by car, you may travel via Providence or via Newport and the Jamestown Ferry. When something is obvious, it is right there in the middle of the road where no one can fail to see it—hence, easily seen, not hidden, conspicuous. And if you meet an obstacle in the road and dispose of it forthwith, you are performing the action of obviate. Thus, if you review your work daily in some high-school or college subject, frenzied “cramming” at the end of the semester will be obviated. A good, healthy bank balance obviates fears of financial insecurity; leaving for work in plenty of time to catch the train will obviate worry about being late. In short, then, to obviate means to make unnecessary; but notice that the subject of the verb is rarely a person. Thus, you cannot say, “John makes a lot of money; he obviates his wife’s looking for a job”; instead, “John’s high salary obviates the need for Sally’s going to work.”

8. war

When you see militate, you naturally think of military—and the connection is valid not only in form but also in meaning. Latin militaris means pertaining to a soldier or fighting man, and if something militates against you, it fights against your advantage. Thus, your timidity may militate against your making new friends; or your aggressiveness may militate against your keeping your friends. (Militate is always followed by the preposition against and, like obviate, never takes a personal subject—you don’t militate against anyone, but some habit, action, tendency, et cetera militates against someone or something.)

The adjective militant comes from the same root, militaris.

A militant reformer is one who fights for his reforms; a militant campaign is one waged aggressively and with determination.

9. bad and good

Working from the root of malign, we can track down valuable words in wholesale quantities; and we can double our yield, as they say in farming, by considering bene (pronounced BAY-nay), a root which has the opposite meaning to the root in malign.

Let’s see how it works.

Malign, to spread slander about, is built on Latin male (pronounced MAH-lay), badly—malign means to speak badly about. Malign is also used as an adjective meaning harmful, hateful, in short bad, as in “the malign influence of his unconscious will to fail.” Another adjective form is malignant, as in “a malignant glance,” i.e., one showing deep hatred, or “a malignant growth,” i.e., one that is cancerous (bad) and will likely spread to other parts of the body.

Now, working with the opposite root, bene, well, we have benign and benignant, both of which mean kindly, as in “a benign tumor,” one that is not cancerous and will not spread.

That’s simple enough, I submit. Let’s chart some words so that we can see the contrast more sharply.

When we examine these words etymologically, we find that a malediction is a bad saying, a benediction is a good saying, from the root dict, to say. Maleficent is bad doing, beneficent good doing, from the root fac, to do.

Malevolent is bad wishing, benevolent is good wishing, from the root volent, to wish; malefactor is a bad doer, benefactor is a good doer, from the root fac, to do; malaise is a bad feeling, and maladroit combines male, bad, with adroit, the French form we have previously studied which means the right hand. An adroit debater, figuratively one with a good right hand, is a skillful debater. Hence a maladroit person is badly skillful, or awkward, unskilled.

10. say, do, and wish

It’s really not too confusing if you take it slowly and have the patience to go through it. The dict in benediction and malediction means to say; we hear it in dictaphone, predict, dictation, et cetera. The fic in maleficent and beneficent and the fac in malefactor and benefactor are variant spellings of the Latin root which means to do; we hear it in factory, a place where things are done, and in fact, something which was done, hence something true. The volent in benevolent and malevolent means to wish; we hear it in voluntary, involuntary, volunteer, and volition. I take it for granted that you are familiar with these common words and will not stop at this point to define them, but I think you can see an extension of the idea of wishing or willing in each one.

11. if you please!

The root in placate is also a rich source of new words. The first four letters come from a Latin verb to please; when you placate someone, you please him, especially at a time when he is most displeased. Hence, you change his malevolence, in a manner of speaking, to benevolence. Or you make a placatory gesture, offering, or suggestion, that is, one intended to please or to remove hostility. If someone is implacable, he cannot be pleased; he’s got a mad on and nothing can be done to soften his resentment or weaken his hostility. Or maybe he’s placid—he is calm, easy-going, undisturbed; everything pleases him.

Finally, if someone is complacent, he is well-pleased, generally with himself; in other words, smug, self-satisfied, content—perhaps foolishly content—with his merits, advantages, accomplishments, et cetera. Complacency, however, is not a word used as a complimentary or even neutral term. It contains a mild insult—when you accuse someone of being complacent you imply that he has very little to feel so smug about; soon will come the awakening, the hour of disillusionment. Americans were often accused by government leaders, during World War II, of complacency—we were too assured (baselessly, was the implication) that we would win, and as a result we did not try hard enough.

12. how to give—and forgive

To condone is to forgive; a donation is a gift—you can see the connection. Condone comes from the Latin verb donare, to give (as does donation); when you condone an act, you give freedom from punishment, almost mild approval, to the perpetrator of that antisocial act. Of course you only condone such actions as other people are likely to disapprove of.

USING THE WORDS: II

We have worked, in the previous section of this chapter, with twelve important and productive roots, all of them from Latin. Suppose we chart them for a quick once-over and fresh view.

As you see, a knowledge of roots and an application of that knowledge make it simple to learn new words almost by the carload—we have taken, in a few pages, thirty-four such derivatives. Now see how you make out with our usual exercises.

Can you pronounce the words?

1. parity

PAR-I-tee†

2. disparagingly

dis-PAR-a-jing-lee†

3. disparagement

dis-PAR-idge-ment†

4. disparity

dis-PAR-i-tee†

5. equivocal

ee-KWIV-o-k’l

*6. unequivocal

un-ee-KWIV-o-k’l

7. equivocation

ee-kwiv-o-KAY-shun

8. ambiguous

am-BIG-yoo-us

*9. ambiguity

am-bi-GYOO-i-tee

10. double entendre

DOO-b’l- ahn-TAHN-dre

11. titillation

tit-i-LAY-shun

12. adulation

aj-oo-LAY-shun

*13. adulatory

AJ-oo-la-toar-ee

14. proscription

pro-SKRIP-shun

*15. via

VYE-a

16. obvious

OB-vee-us

17. militant

MILL-i-tant (a as in husband)

18. malignant

ma-LIG-nant (a as in husband)

19. malediction

mal-e-DIK-shun

*20. malaise

ma-LAYZ

*21. maleficent

ma-LEFF-i-sent

*22. malevolent

ma-LEV-o-lent

23. malefactor

MAL-e-fak-ter

24. benign

be-NYNE

25. benignant

be-NIG-nant (a as in husband)

26. benediction

ben-e-DIK-shun

*27. beneficent

be-NEFF-i-sent

*28. benevolent

be-NEV-o-lent

29. benefactor

BEN-e-fak-ter

*30. placatory

PLAY-ka-toar-ee

*31. implacable

im-PLAY-ka-b’l

32. placid

PLASS-id

33. complacent

kom-PLAY-sent

34. complacency

kom-PLAY-sen-see

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and definitions.

1. parity

a. indefinite and confusing expression of thought

2. disparagement

b. fulsome flattery

3. equivocation

c. prohibition

4. double entendre

d. tickling, mild excitement

5. titillation

e. equality

6. adulation

f. belittlement

7. proscription

g. an expression that has two meanings, one of them sexy

KEY: 1—e, 2—f, 3—a, 4—g, 5—d, 6—b, 7—c

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. malediction

a. feeling of general discomfort

2. benediction

b. good wishes

3. malaise

c. curse

4. malevolence

d. criminal

5. benevolence

e. ill will

6. malefactor

f. blessing

7. benefactor

g. one who does a good deed

8. disparity

h. lack of equality

KEY: 1—c, 2—f, 3—a, 4—e, 5—b, 6—d, 7—g, 8—h

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. benign

a. impervious to pacifying

2. malign

b. harmful, hateful

3. placatory

c. smug

4. implacable

d. confusing because of possibility of misunderstanding

5. placid

e. tending to soothe

6. complacent

f. calm

7. ambiguous

g. kindly

KEY: 1—g, 2—b, 3—e, 4—a, 5—f, 6—c, 7—d

Can you work with the words? (IV)

1. unequivocal

a. ill-disposed

2. adulatory

b. aggressive

3. militant

c. kindly disposed

4. maleficent

d. clear, not confusing

5. beneficent

e. servilely attentive and flattering

KEY: 1—d, 2—e, 3—b, 4—a, 5—c

Do you understand the words? (I)

React quickly to the following questions.

Do you understand the words? (II)

Do you understand the words? (III)

Do you understand the words? (IV)

Is each pair of words the same or opposite in meaning?

Can you recall the words?

And now, finally, here is the acid test of your learning. Can you supply most or all of the thirty-four words we have just been discussing if a brief definition and the initial letter are supplied?

CHAPTER REVIEW

Do you recognize the words?

Check the word which most closely fits each definition.

1. To belittle:

(a) titillate, (b) disparage, (c) adulate

2. To be purposely confusing:

(a) equivocate, (b) obviate, (c) proscribe

3. To work to the disadvantage of:

(a) malign, (b) militate, (c) placate

4. To slander:

(a) malign, (b) condone, (c) placate

5. Lack of equality:

(a) parity, (b) disparity, (c) ambiguity

6. Phrase which may have two interpretations, one of them being indelicate or off-color:

(a) equivocation, (b) ambiguity, (c) double entendre

7. Hateful:

(a) malignant, (b) benignant, (c) malaise

8. Ill will:

(a) malefactor, (b) malevolence, (c) maleficence

9. Kindly:

(a) benevolent, (b) placid, (c) complacent

10. Inflexibly hostile:

(a) implacable, (b) placatory, (c) militant

KEY: 1—b, 2—a, 3—b, 4—a, 5—b, 6—c, 7—a, 8—b, 9—a, 10—a

GETTING THE TOTAL VIEW

Well! You have not, I hope, spent more than one sitting with this chapter. It really does not matter a bit how long a sitting any one chapter requires; what does matter is that you get a total view of the material by sticking with a chapter until you have satisfactorily, successfully mastered its contents.

So I’ll assume you are developing the proper intensity and tenaciousness, and have conquered these pages without interruption.

If you have, pause to consider what that means.

You have learned, or become reacquainted with, forty-four exciting words and twelve valuable Latin roots, all in one evening!

Is that good? Brother (or sister, if such is the case), stand up and pat yourself on the back. The average adult, remember, learns only fifty new words in an entire year!

Don’t you begin to feel, now that you have been working intensively with these forty-four words all evening, as if you have known them all your life? If you have worked properly, you should have such a feeling. And as time goes on and you begin to catch these words in your reading, begin to notice them when other people use them, begin to find yourself thinking with them and using them yourself—then you will be certain that you have known them all your life!

No, I am not being evangelical—I simply expect that you will go through the same exhilarating intellectual experiences, as a result of learning new words and exploring new ideas, that my students have constantly reported to me.

†PAR rhymes with CAR in carriage

BRIEF INTERMISSION SEVEN:
HOW TO PRONOUNCE A WORD

“Art thou an Ephraimite?”

“Nay.”

“Say now the word for ‘an ear of corn’.”

“Sibboleth.”

This is undoubtedly the earliest recorded instance of a pronunciation quiz. It was administered in Biblical times (you will find an account of it in the Book of Judges) by a Gileadite who caught a suspected Ephraimite trying to cross the River Jordan. The prisoner would vow that he was a Gileadite, but his pronunciation gave him away; Gileadites called an ear of corn shibboleth, not sibboleth. The error generally cost the Ephraimite his life; which, you are probably reflecting, is rather a harsh penalty for a single mispronunciation.

Times have not changed quite as much as you may think. During the World War II fighting in the Pacific Islands, a suspected Japanese who claimed to be a Chinese or Filipino was given a quick pronunciation test by his American captors—he was asked to say lalapalooza. To the Japanese ear, L is an alien sound—so, if the prisoner was not what he pretended to be, the best he could manage was raraparooza. He had flunked the test—his pronunciation had given him away.

Your pronunciation gives you away. Only under the most highly exceptional circumstances could an error cost you your life (as in the case of the Ephraimites), or your freedom (as in the case of the Japanese), or even your job or your friends, as some speech missionaries solemnly and absurdly proclaim. But under ordinary circumstances an expert can draw from your pronunciation a number of interesting conclusions about your geographical background, your education, your cultural environment, and your personality.

For instance, if you say something approaching ahl for all or pak for park, you are advertising that you have grown up in or around Boston. If you call the city Shi-kaw-go (Chicago), you are probably a Westerner or Midwesterner (especially if you also pronounce log lawg and hog hawg), while if you say Shikah-go, lahg and hahg you more likely come from the East. Greezy for greasy shows that you have Southern or Western speech habits; a sharp R in park will similarly identify you with the western part of the country, and the complete omission of the R in the same word will indicate your background as the Eastern Seaboard. Explode your Ts (wettt, hurtte et cetera) or click your NGs (singg ga songg, Longg gIsland) and you almost reveal the street you live on in the Bronx; or pronounce the three words Mary, marry, merry, and you name the section of the country in which you formed your linguistic habits: the West if you say these words almost identically, the East if the three words are distinctly different in sound. If you’re from the East, especially one of the larger cities, you call it a creek and a vayz (vase); but if you hail from the North or West you refer to it as a crick and a vayss.

And of course if you’re from certain parts of England you call a ski a shee and a schedule a shedule; you speak of medicine as med-sin and insist that a laboratory is a la-BORE-a-tree.

Your pronunciation of certain other words, for example either, aunt, athletic, film, grimace, comparable, and verbatim, will give away, to an experienced ear, more secrets about you than you may realize. If you are willing to take a few simple tests, we can arrive at a fairly accurate analysis of the impression your speech habits give the world.

FIRST ANALYSIS

Do you avoid illiterate forms?

Check in each case the form of the word which you habitually and naturally use. As this is not a test of your knowledge, but of your speech patterns, you should be guided solely by what you believe you say, not by what you may think is right.

In the test you have just taken, the first of the two choices was in each case the illiterate form, the second was the accepted or educated pronunciation. If you checked form b right down the line, or did not wander from this straight path more than once, you may feel assured that your speech bears no stigma of illiteracy. If, however, you made an unfortunate choice in several items, consider your action a danger signal. As a further check on your habits, ask yourself whether you are ever guilty of saying axed for asked, myoo-ni-SIP-’l for municipal, tra-JET-ic for tragic, lyeberry for library, fasset for faucet, rassle for wrestle, drownd-ded for drowned, or lenth and strenth for length and strength.

SECOND ANALYSIS

Does your pronunciation have a college education?

People of more than average education pronounce each of the following words in a certain way. How do you say them? Make an honest choice in accordance with your actual speech habits; do not be influenced by what you may believe is correct.

If you made one or two slips only, your speech is up to the standard of our better educated citizenry. Three to five errors would mean that your pronunciation habits are in general good, though not perfect. Six to nine errors would place you with the merely average speakers, and ten or more unfortunate choices would again be a warning signal that perhaps your speech does not give the world a picture of you as a person of any degree of linguistic maturity.

THIRD ANALYSIS

Do you avoid affected speech?

Check, as before, the forms you habitually use.

Except for certain sections of New England and parts of the South, the second alternative offered above is in every case the popular, current, and standard form. The greater number of b pronunciations that you checked, the more natural and unaffected will your listeners consider your speech. If you generally mix in social, business, or geographical groups in which ahnt, tomahto, and eyether are accepted pronunciations you are, of course, relatively safe in using some or all of the a forms in the test; nevertheless, you should bear in mind that these are not the pronunciations common to the majority of Americans and that you may occasionally run the risk of being thought “snooty’ or supercilious by your less dramatic and more down-to-earth listeners.

And now, the fourth and last analysis is just for fun, and will serve to prove that we cannot become too fussy about “correct” pronunciation. The words in this test are “catch” words; that is, you are expected, if you are normal, to get most of them wrong. They are, with one exception, bookish words that are rarely used in everyday speech—there is thus no reason why you should be expected to be familiar with their dictionary pronunciations. You may flop ignominiously on this test, and while you will suffer a temporary deflation of your ego as a result, you will have as compensation proof positive that you are normal.

FOURTH ANALYSIS

Are you normal?

Most people taking this test will make seven or more errors. If you get more than three right, you may credit yourself with unusual language sophistication. If you come anywhere near a perfect score, you are absolutely phenomenal. In doing this test, check the form you believe is correct.

1. finis (the end) a. FIN-iss, b. fee-NEE, c. FYE-niss

2. eighth (the number) a. ayt-th, b. ayth

3. secretive (concealing) a. SEEK-re-tive, b. se-KREE-tive

4. cerebrum (portion of the brain) a. SER-ebrum, b. se-REE-brum

5. dour (stern, forbidding) a. to rhyme with poor, b. to rhyme with sour.

6. congeries (a heap) a. CON-je-reez, b. con-JEE-ree-eez

7. ignominy (disgrace) a. IG-no-mi-ny, b. ig-NOM-i-ny

8. gramercy! (a Shakespearian exclamation) a. GRAM-er-see, b. gra-MUR-see

9. vagary (a whim) a. VAG-a-ree, b. VAY-ga-ree, c. va-GARE-ee

10. quay (a wharf) a. kway, b. kay, c. key

KEY: 1—c, 2—a, 3—b, 4—a, 5—a, 6—b, 7—a, 8—b, 9—c, 10—c

These are the pronunciations required by the Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary, 5th edition.

In your own pronunciation, you are following the wisest course if you avoid illiterate and uneducated forms, pronounce your words without being guilty of affectation or pedantry, and simply conform to the natural dictates of that part of the country in which you developed your speech habits. Actions may speak louder than words, but the world bases its first impression of you on what you say and how you say it.

10

HOW TO TALK ABOUT VARIOUS SPEECH HABITS

TEASER PREVIEW

What adjective describes a person who:

• is disinclined to conversation?

• is brief and pithy in his speech?

• is confused and incoherent in his speech?

• shows by his speech that he is trite and unimaginative?

• uses more words than necessary?

• is forcefully compelling and logical in his speech?

• talks rapidly and fluently?

• is noisy and clamorous?

• is talkative?

PERHAPS some of your richest and most satisfying experiences have been with people to whom you can just talk, talk, talk. As you speak, previously untapped springs of ideas and emotions begin to flow; you hear yourself saying things you never thought you knew.

Happiness, in the final analysis, comes from other people, from a feeling of kinship with the world. An evening of good conversation with congenial friends is about the cheapest form of happiness you can buy—and about the most exhilarating.

Of course there are all kinds of talkers, and all kinds of talk.

Let’s look at some of them.

IDEAS

1. saying little

“S. Jay Kaufman, a colyuming pioneer along Broadway two decades ago, recalls when he met Herbert Hoover, just defeated for re-election. The ex-President told about Cal Coolidge, who inaugurated the idea of seeing anyone who wished to see him—one hour a week.

“Mr. Hoover tried the plan but not happily. When he next saw Coolidge he asked ‘Silent Cal’ how he could see so many persons in an hour, while he (Hoover) could see so few.

“ ‘Because,’ dead-panned Cal, ‘You answer back!’ ”

Walter Winchell

What adjective best describes Coolidge?

He’s taciturn.

2. saying little—meaning much

There is another well-known anecdote about “silent Cal”:

A young newspaperwoman was sitting next to him at a banquet, so the story goes, and turned to him mischievously.

“Mr. Coolidge,” she said, “I have a bet with my editor that I can get you to say more than two words to me this evening.”

“You lose,” Coolidge rejoined simply.

Now, how would you describe Coolidge?

He’s laconic.

3. much emotion, little talk

“One day, late for his train, a Chinese traveling in this country rushed over to the baggage room in Grand Central Station, threw his check on the counter, and demanded his bag. The attendant couldn’t find it. As precious minutes went by, the Chinese began jumping up and down with rage. Finally he couldn’t stand it any longer. His train was going—his bag was nowhere to be found—and he pounded the counter with his fist and yelled:

“ ‘Pretty damn seldom where my bag go. She no fly. You no more fit run station than godsake. That’s all I hope!’ ”

J. P. McEvoy, in Reader’s Digest, January, 1947

How would you characterize the Chinese traveler?

He was inarticulate.

4. much talk, little sense

Miss Bates, a character in Emma, a novel by Jane Austen:

“So obliging of you! No, we should not have heard, if it had not been for this particular circumstance, of her being able to come here so soon. My mother is so delighted! For she is to be three months with us at least. Three months, she says so, positively, as I am going to have the pleasure of reading to you. The case is, you see, that the Campbells are going to Ireland. Mrs. Dixon has persuaded her father and mother to come over and see her directly. I was going to say, but, however, different countries, and so she wrote a very urgent letter to her mother, or her father, I declare I do not know which it was, but we shall see presently in Jane’s letter . . .”

How would you characterize Miss Bates?

She is garrulous.

5. dull and flat

Some people are completely lacking in originality and imagination—and their speech shows it. Everything they say is trite, hackneyed, commonplace—their words and speech patterns are an indication of dull, unquestioning minds.

How would you characterize such people’s speech?

It is banal.

6. words, words, words!

He talks and talks and talks—it’s not so much the quantity you object to as the repetitiousness. He phrases, rephrases, and re-rephrases his thoughts—using far more words than necessary, overwhelming you with words, drowning you with them, until your only thought is how to escape, or maybe how to die.

He’s verbose.

7. words in quick succession

He’s a rapid, fluent talker, the words seeming to roll off his tongue with such ease and lack of effort, and sometimes with such copiousness, that you listen with amazement, if not always with delight.

He’s voluble.

8. words that convince

He expresses his ideas forcefully, almost brilliantly, and in a way that calls for whole-hearted assent and agreement from an intelligent listener.

He’s cogent.

9. the sound and the fury

His talk is loud, noisy, clamorous, vehement. What may be lacking in content is compensated for in force and strength.

He’s vociferous.

10. quantity, if not quality

He (or should one preferably say she?) talks a lot—a very lot. He (or she) may be voluble, vociferous, garrulous, verbose, but never inarticulate, taciturn, or laconic. No matter. It’s the quantity and continuity that are most conspicuous. “Were you vaccinated with a phonograph needle?” is the question you are tempted to ask as you listen.

He’s loquacious.

Our words, in this chapter, revolve closely around the idea of varying quantities and kinds of talking. Many of the adjectives are synonymous, but each contains its unique difference. You can be quite clear on these differences by examining the chart.

USING THE WORDS

Can you pronounce the words?

*1. taciturn

TASS-i-turn

2. laconic

la-KON-ic

3. inarticulate

in-ar-TIK-yoo-lit

*4. garrulous

GAR-oo-lus (AR as in carriage)

*5. banal

BAY-n’l

6. verbose

ver-BOSE

*7. voluble

VOL-yoo-b’l

*8. cogent

KOE-jent

9. vociferous

vo-SIFF-er-us

10. loquacious

lo-KWAY-shus

Can you change adjectives to nouns?

In preceding chapters you may have observed some general laws for making an adjective into a noun or vice versa. For example, ambiguous—ambiguity; complacent—complacency, et cetera. Now draw on your native ingenuity and your verbal sophistication to change each adjective into a noun that will fit the phrase that accompanies it.

1. taciturn—his depressing _______________.

2. laconic—speech full of _______________s.

3. inarticulate—no doubt about his _______________.

4. garrulous—an amazing _______________.

5. banal—replete with _______________s.

6. verbose—agonizing _______________.

7. voluble—astonishing _______________.

8. cogent—inimitable _______________.

9. vociferous—annoying _______________.

10. loquacious—uncontrollable _______________.

KEY: 1—taciturnity, 2—laconisms, 3—inarticulateness, 4—garrulity or garrulousness, 5—banalities, 6—verbosity, 7—volubility, 8—cogency, 9—vociferousness, 10—loquacity or loquaciousness

Can you work with the words?

Match words and definitions.

1. taciturn

a. chattering meaninglessly

2. laconic

b. wordy

3. inarticulate

c. trite, hackneyed, unoriginal

4. garrulous

d. fluent and rapid

5. banal

e. noisy, loud

6. verbose

f. speaking unintelligibly

7. voluble

g. talkative

8. cogent

h. brilliantly compelling, persuasive

9. vociferous

i. unwilling to engage in conversation

10. loquacious

j. using few words packed with meaning

KEY: 1—i, 2—j, 3—f, 4—a, 5—c, 6—b, 7—d, 8—h, 9—e, 10—g

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to these questions.

Can you recall the words?

Do you know that new nerve patterns are formed by repeated actions? As a child, you laced your shoes with great concentration—the activity was directed, controlled, purposive, and, at the beginning, quite exciting. As you grew older and more skillful, you laced your shoes with scarcely a thought of what you were doing. Your fingers flew about their task almost automatically—for the habit had formed a nerve pattern and the action needed little if any conscious attention.

That’s simple enough to understand. If you do not remember your own experiences with shoe lacing, you can observe the phenomenon of struggling with a skill, mastering it, and finally making it a self-starting habit, by watching any child, preferably your own, between the ages of two and five. Or you can simply take my word for it.

You need not take my word for the way a mastery of new words is acquired. You can see in yourself, as you work with this book, how adding words to your vocabulary is exactly analogous to a child’s mastery of shoe lacing. First you struggle with the concepts; then you eventually master them; finally, by frequent work with the new words (now you see the reason for the great number of exercises, the repetitious writing, saying, thinking) you build up new nerve patterns and you begin to use the new words with scarcely any consciousness of what you are doing.

Watch this common but important phenomenon closely as you do the next exercise. I contend that your total absorption of the material in this chapter has given you complete mastery of our ten basic words. Prove that you are beginning to form new nerve patterns in relation to these words by writing the one which fits each brief definition. The quicker you think of the word that applies and the higher your score, the surer you can be that using these words will soon be as automatic and unselfconscious as putting on your shoes in the morning.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS

1. about keeping one’s mouth shut

If you let your mind play over some of the taciturn people you know, you will realize that their abnormal disinclination to conversation makes them seem morose, sullen, and unfriendly. Cal Coolidge’s taciturnity was world famous, and no one, I am sure, ever conceived of him as cheerful, over-friendly, or particularly sociable. There are doubtless many possible causes of such verbal rejection of the world: perhaps lack of self-assurance, feelings of inadequacy or hostility, excessive seriousness or introspection, or just plain having nothing to say. Maybe, in Coolidge’s case, he was saving up his words—after he did not “choose to run” in 1928 he wrote a daily column for the New York Herald Tribune at a rumored price of two dollars a word—and, according to most critics (probably all Democrats), he had seemed wiser when he had kept silent. Coolidge hailed from New England, and taciturnity in that part of the country is considered a virtue. Who knows, the cause may be geographical and climatic, rather than psychological.

Taciturn is from a Latin verb taceo, to be silent, and is one of those words whose full meaning cannot be expressed by any other combination of syllables. It has many synonyms, among them silent, uncommunicative, reticent, reserved, secretive, close-lipped and close-mouthed; but no other word indicates the permanent, habitual, and temperamental disinclination to talk implied by taciturn. In short, we have here a valuable and unique word which no literate citizen can get along without.

2. better left unsaid

Equally valuable and equally unique is another word derived from taceo, be silent, namely tacit.

Here is a man dying of cancer. He suspects what his disease is, and everyone else, of course, knows. Yet he never mentions the dread word, and no one who visits him ever breathes a syllable of it in his hearing. It is tacitly understood by all concerned that the word will remain forever unspoken.

Consider another situation:

An executive is engaging in extracurricular activities with his young and pretty secretary. Yet during office time they are as formal and distant as any two human beings can well be. Neither of them ever said to the other, “Now, look here, we may be lovers after five o’clock, but between nine and five we must preserve the utmost decorum. O.K.?” Such speech, such a verbal arrangement, is considered unnecessary—so we may say that the boss and his mistress have a tacit agreement (i.e., nothing was ever actually said) to maintain a complete employer-employee relationship during office hours.

Anything tacit, then, is unspoken, unsaid, not verbalized. We speak of a tacit agreement, arrangement, acceptance, rejection, assent, refusal, et cetera. A person may never be called tacit.

3. talk, talk, talk!

Garrulous, verbose, voluble and loquacious people are all talkative; but each type, you will recall, has a special quality. Working backward, loquacity is the most neutral of the conditions; when you speak of “female loquacity” you imply that women wag their tongues more than men do. Volubility includes fluency and rapidity of speech, as well as great quantity; verbosity implies such an overabundance of words as to cause confusion and dullness. (A loquacious person may talk a lot because he has a lot to say—a verbose person smothers his ideas with words.) And garrulity implies constant talking, usually aimless and meaningless, about trifles. Often you hear the expression “A garrulous old man” or “A garrulous old woman,” since in advanced age the mind may wander and lose the ability to discriminate between the important and the unimportant, between the interesting and the dull.

Garrulous is from a Latin verb to chatter; a garrulous person reminds you of a chattering monkey. Verbose is from the Latin verbum, word, from which useful root we also derive verbal, using words; verbatim, quoted word-by-word; the grammatical term verb; and verborrhea, a word formed on analogy to diarrhea, and obviously meaning an incessant, overwhelming cascade of words. Voluble is from Latin volvere, to roll; in volubility the words just roll out, apparently without effort. Revolve, to roll around, comes from the same root.

And loquacious comes from Latin loquor, to speak. Eloquent, speaking expressively, is the most common word containing this root, but mention should also be made at this point of two less common derivatives, grandiloquent and magniloquent, which are virtually identical in meaning. The grandiloquent or magniloquent person uses lofty, pompous, overelegant phraseology; his home is his residence, his wife is his helpmate, his children are offspring, in short his speech is always togged out in a full-dress suit or evening gown, and as a result he usually sounds absurd.

Loquor, to speak, has also given us the words soliloquy, ventriloquist, colloquial, and circumlocution.

1. A soliloquy is a speech made to oneself. We often talk to ourselves, but usually silently, the words going through our minds but not actually passing our lips. A soliloquy is the utterance of this speech, not to some listener, but to ourselves. The letters soli in soliloquy come from the Latin word for alone; the same root is found in solitude, solitary, solo, et cetera.

2. A ventriloquist is one who can throw his voice, so that a listener thinks it is coming from some source other than the ventriloquist’s lips. (The ventri is from the Latin word for stomach, and is found also in ventral, an adjective referring to the front or stomach side of an animal or person. Ventral is contrasted to dorsal, which refers to the back of an animal or person.) A ventriloquist acts as if he is speaking from his stomach, rather than from his mouth. The art is ventriloquism.

3. Colloquial combines loquor, to speak, with con, together. When people speak together they are engaging in conversation—and their language is usually more informal and less rigidly grammatical than what you might expect in writing or in public addresses. Colloquial patterns are perfectly correct—they are simply informal, and suitable to everyday conversation. A colloquialism, therefore, is a conversational-style expression, like “He hasn’t got any” or “Who are you going with?” as contrasted to the formal or literary style, namely, “He has none” or “With whom are you going?” Colloquial English is the English you and I talk on everyday occasions—it is not slangy, vulgar, or illiterate.

4. A circumlocution is, etymologically, a talking-around. Any way of expressing an idea that is roundabout or indirect is circumlocution.

To keep our roots straight, let us look at them once again.

Garrulus is the Latin for chattering—a garrulous person chatters meaninglessly.

Verbum is the Latin for word—a verbose person uses more words than necessary.

Volvo is the Latin for roll—a voluble person is one out of whose mouth speech seems to roll off effortlessly, rapidly, fluently.

Loquor is the Latin for talk—a loquacious person is full of talk.

That’s all there is to it.

4. a Spartan virtue

In ancient Sparta, which was originally know as Laconia, the citizens were long-suffering, hard-bitten, stoical, and military minded, and were even more noted for their economy of speech than Vermonters, if that is possible. Legend has it that when Philip of Macedonia was storming the gates of Sparta (or Laconia), he sent a message to the besieged king saying, “If we capture your city we will burn it to the ground.” A one-word answer came back: “If.” It was now probably Philip’s turn to be speechless, though history does not record his reaction.

It is from the name Laconia that we derive our word laconic—and bear in mind that it is a highly complimentary term, showing our admiration for anyone who can deliver so much punch in so few words.

Like the man who was waiting at a lunch counter for a ham sandwich. When it was ready the clerk inquired politely, “Will you have it here, or take it with you?”

“Both,” was the laconic reply.

Or like the man who was watching the lush imbibing dry martinis at a Third Avenue bar. The drunk downed the contents of his cocktail glass at one gulp, then daintily nibbled and swallowed the bowl, finally turned the glass over and ate the base. The stem he threw into a corner. This amazing gustatory feat went on for half an hour, until a dozen stems were lying shattered in the corner, and the drunk had chewed and swallowed enough bowls and bases to start a glass factory. Then he turned to our friend and asked belligerently, “I suppose you think I’m cuckoo, don’t you?” “Sure—the stem is the best part,” was the laconic answer.

I think you see the full implication of the word, and realize that no other word in the whole language would serve quite as well.

5. hardly short of brilliant

Cogent, like laconic, is a term of admiration. A cogent argument is well-put, convincing, hardly short of brilliant. Cogency shows a keen mind, an ability to think clearly and logically. Cogent derives from a Latin verb cogere, to drive together, compel, force. A cogent remark compels acceptance because of its sense and logic.

6. the noise and the fury

Like all the other words in this chapter, vociferous also derives from the Latin; it uses a stem voc, voice, which you have met before (in equivocal) plus a root fer, to bear. A vociferous rejoinder bears a lot of voice—i.e., it is vehement, loud, noisy, clamorous, shouting. The noun is vociferousness.

7. to sleep or not to sleep

The root fer, to bear, is found also in somniferous, bearing sleep. (Soporific, from another Latin root for sleep, has the same meaning.) So a somniferous or soporific lecture is so dull and boring that it is sleep-inducing. If we work from the other root in somniferous, somnus, sleep, we will turn up three interesting new words, to wit:

insomnia—inability to fall asleep
somnolent—sleepy, drowsy
somnambulism—sleepwalking

8. a walk away

In insomnia we find the negative prefix in; in somnabulism we find the root ambul, to walk. An ambulatory hospital case is one that can walk around; to amble is to walk aimlessly; an ambulance is so called because originally it was composed of two stretcher bearers who walked off the battle field with a wounded soldier; and a perambulator is a carriage in which Daddy takes the baby for a walk.

So many of our English words come from Latin that it is particularly fruitful, as you can see, to start anywhere and work with a root to learn new words in wholesale quantities. Vociferous takes us to somniferous; the latter in turn leads us to other words referring to sleep, finally pointing to somnambulism; which in turn opens up for us all words containing ambul, to walk.

It is perfectly possible, by this means, to keep going almost endlessly, wandering along any etymological road which may beckon, and never quite knowing where we’ll arrive. This much, however, we do know: each such road will carry us along to a bigger and bigger vocabulary.

USING THE WORDS: II

Working from our basic words we have discovered twenty-nine others, all of them related in meaning or derivation. Note that our etymological explorations have acquainted us with the following roots:

1. taceo, be silent
taciturnity—disinclination to engage in conversation
tacit—unspoken

2. volvo—to roll
volubility—rapidity and fluency of speech, words rolling off one’s tongue.

3. loquor, to talk
loquacious—full of talk
soliloquize—talk alone, to oneself
ventriloquist—one who talks as if from his stomach
grandiloquent or magniloquent—talking in high-sounding words

4. verbum, word
verbosity—wordiness
verbatim—quoted word for word

5. fer, to bear
vociferousness—a bearing of loud voice
somniferous—bearing sleep

(soporific has the same meaning)

6. somnus, sleep
somnolent—sleepy
insomnia—inability to fall asleep
insomniac—one who is habitually unable to fall asleep
somnambulism—sleepwalking

7. ambulo, walk
ambulatory—walking
perambulator—baby carriage

I submit that a realization of the meaning of the etymological parts of a word makes that word easy to understand, simple to remember. To prove to yourself that learning words through their etymology is as quick and easy as I say, try the next few tests.

Can your pronounce the words?

1. taciturnity

tass-i-TURN-i-tee

2. tacit

TASS-it

3. loquacity

lo-KWASS-i-tee

*4. garrulity

ga-ROOL-i-tee

*5. volubility

vol-yoo-BILL-i-tee

*6. verbosity

ver-BOSS-i-tee

*7. verbatim

ver-BAY-tim

8. verborrhea

ver-bo-REE-a

*9. grandiloquent

gran-DILL-o-kwent

*10. magniloquent

mag-NILL-o-kwent

*11. soliloquy

so-LILL-o-kwee

12. soliloquize

so-LILL-o-kwyze

13. ventriloquist

ven-TRILL-o-kwist

14. ventriloquism

ven-TRILL-o-kwizm

15. ventral

VEN-tr’l

16. dorsal

DOR-s’l

*17. colloquial

ko-LO-kwee-il

*18. colloquialism

ko-LO-kwee-a-lizm

19. circumlocution

sur-kum-lo-KYOO-shun

*20. cogency

KO-jen-see

21. vociferousness

vo-SIFF-er-us-ness

*22. somniferous

som-NIFF-er-us

*23. soporific

sop-er-IFF-ik

24. insomnia

in-SOM-nee-a

25. insomniac

in-SOM-nee-ak

*26. somnolent

SOM-no-lent

27. somnambulism

som-NAM-byoo-lizm

28. ambulatory

AM-byoo-la-tore-ee

29. perambulator

per-AM-byoo-lay-ter

Do you understand the words?

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and meanings.

1. taciturnity

a. talkativeness

2. tacit

b. quoted word for word

3. loquacity

c. clamorous talk

4. verbosity

d. high-flown, pompous speech

5. verbatim

e. inability to sleep

6. grandiloquence

f. drowsiness

7. cogency

g. disinclination to talking

8. vociferousness

h. sleep-inducing

9. somniferous

i. wordiness

10. insomnia

j. sleepwalking

11. somnolence

k. forceful talk

12. somnambulism

l. unspoken

KEY: 1—g, 2-1, 3—a, 4—i, 5—b, 6—d, 7—k, 8—c, 9—h, 10—e, 11—f, 12—j

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. volubility

a. speech to oneself

2. verborrhea

b. expression suitable to conversation

3. magniloquence

c. excessive flow of words

4. soliloquy

d. pertaining to the front or stomach

5. ventriloquism

e. unimaginative way of talking

6. colloquialism

f. roundabout way of talking

7. circumlocution

g. great amount of meaningless talk

8. ventral

h. elegance in talk

9. dorsal

i. pertaining to the back

10. garrulity

j. incoherence

11. banality

k. throwing of one’s voice

12. inarticulateness

1. fluency

13. soporific

m. sleep-inducing

KEY: 1—1, 2—c, 3—h, 4—a, 5—k, 6—b, 7—f, 8—d, 9—i, 10—g, 11—e, 12—j, 13—m

Can you recall the words?

CHAPTER REVIEW

Do you recognize the words?

Check the word which most closely fits each definition.

1. Disinclined to conversation:

(a) loquacious, (b) laconic, (c) taciturn

2. Trite:

(a) inarticulate, (b) banal, (c) verbose

3. Rapid and fluent:

(a) voluble, (b) verbose, (c) garrulous

4. Forceful and compelling:

(a) vociferous, (b) cogent, (c) laconic

5. Unspoken:

(a) verbatim, (b) eloquent, (c) tacit

6. Using elegant and impressive words:

(a) verbose, (b) grandiloquent, (c) colloquial

7. Back:

(a) dorsal, (b) ventral, (c) somniferous

8. Sleep-inducing:

(a) soporific, (b) somnolent, (c) ventral

9. Inability to fall asleep:

(a) somnambulism, (b) ambulatory, (c) insomnia

KEY: 1—c, 2—b, 3—a, 4—b, 5—c, 6—b, 7—a, 8—a, 9—c

BECOMING ALERT TO NEW IDEAS

Some chapters back I suggested that since words are symbols of ideas, one of the most effective means of building your vocabulary is to read books that deal with new ideas. Along that line, I further suggested that the fields of psychology, psychiatry, and psychoanalysis would be good starting points, and I mentioned nine exciting books to work with.

Needless to say, you will not wish to neglect other fields, and so I want to recommend, at this point, highly readable books in other subjects. All these books will increase your familiarity with the world of ideas—all of them, therefore, will help you build a superior vocabulary.

I. Semantics

1. Language in Action, by S. I. Hayakawa (Harcourt, Brace).

2. People in Quandaries, by Wendell Johnson (Harper & Brothers).

3. The Tyranny of Words, by Stuart Chase (Harcourt, Brace).

4. Folklore of Capitalism, by Thurman Arnold (Yale University).

II. Conservation

1. Our Plundered Planet, by Fairfield Osborn (Little, Brown).

2. Road to Survival, by William Vogt (William Sloane Associates).

III. History

1. Only Yesterday, by Frederick Lewis Allen (Harper & Brothers).

2. Fantastic Interim, by Henry Morton Robinson (Harcourt, Brace).

3. Since Yesterday, by Frederick Lewis Allen (Harper & Brothers).

4. They Also Ran, by Irving Stone (Doubleday).

IV. Science

1. Treasury of Science, edited by Harlow Shapley (Harper & Brothers).

2. Mankind So Far, by William W. Howells (Doubleday).

3. You and Heredity, by Amram Scheinfeld (Lippincott).

4. Women and Men, by Amram Scheinfeld (Harcourt, Brace).

5. The Human Body, by Logan Clendening (Knopf).

V. Art

The Arts, by H. W. Van Loon (Simon and Schuster).

These sixteen books, together with the nine previously recommended, will give you practically a liberal education. They will introduce you to ideas that no alert adult can well afford to be ignorant of. And, of course, they will add immeasurably to your vocabulary and verbal power.

BRIEF INTERMISSION EIGHT:
HOW GOOD
IS YOUR PRONUNCIATION?

Do you go around correcting other people’s pronunciation? And are you always sure you know what you’re talking about when you brashly tell someone: “That’s not the way to say it!”?

Here’s a chance to find out—in ten minutes or less—whether your knowledge of OR-tho-e-py (the art of pronouncing words correctly) is as good as you think it is.

TEST I

Your speech meets an accepted standard of literacy if you can check the correct form of at least nine of the following words:

1. (a) RAD-ee-ay-ter or (b) RAY-dee-ay-ter? (radiator)

2. (a) MOD-ren or (b) MOD-urn? (modern)

3. (a) LYE-brerry or (b) LYE-berry? (library)

4. (a) MISS-chi-vuss or (b) miss-CHEE-vee-us? (mischievous)

5. (a) ath-LET-ic or (b) ath-a-LET-ic? (athletic)

6. (a) FILL-um or (b) FILM? (film)

7. (a) JEN-yoo-wyne or (b) JEN-yoo-win? (genuine)

8. (a) pre-FER-able or (b) PREFF-er-able? (preferable)

9. (a) LENTH or (b) LENGGTH? (length)

10. (a) IN-trik-a-see or (b) in-TRIK-a-see? (intricacy)

TEST II

Your speech is on the college-graduate level if you can check the correct pronunciation of at least seven of the following words:

1. (a) gri-MAYCE or (b) GRIMM-iss? (grimace)

2. (a) IM-pee-us or (b) im-PYE-us? (impious)

3. (a) SEEK-re-tive or (b) se-KREE-tiv? (secretive)

4. (a) nah-eev-TAY or (b) NAY-ve-tee? (naïveté)

5. (a) YOO-min or (b) HYOO-min? (human)

6. (a) RO-bust or (b) ro-BUST? (robust)

7. (a) HOSS-pit-ab’l or (b) hos-SPIT-ab’l? (hospitable)

8. (a) press-TEEDGE or (b) press-TEEZH? (prestige) (ZH like the S in pleasure)

9. (a) ver-BAY-tim or (b) ver-BAT-im? (verbatim)

10. (a) OR-gee or (b) OR-jee? (orgy) (g as in girl)

TEST III

You are a veritable expert in orthoepy if you can check the correct pronunciation of at least five of the following words—and you are perfectly normal if you flunk every one of them, for these are “catch” words that are frequently mispronounced.

1. (a) AIR, (b) ERR, or (c) URR? (err)

2. (a) diff-THEER-ee-a or (b) dipp-THEER-ee a? (diphtheria)

3. (a) FYE-niss, or (b) FINN-iss, or (c) fee-NEE? (finis)

4. (a) DIRR-i-jib’l, or (b) DERR-i-jib’l, or (c) di-RIDGE-ib’l? (dirigible)

5. (a) vi-RAH-go, (b) vi-RAY-go, or (c) VIRR-a-go? (virago)

6. (a) repp-er-tee or (b) ray-par-TAY? (repartee)

7. (a) ig-NOM-in-ee or (b) IG-no-min-ee? (ignominy)

8. (a) SER-e-bral or (b) se-REE-bral? (cerebral)

9. (a) gon-DOAL-a or (b) GON-do-la? (gondola)

10. (a) diss-a-BEEL or (b) DISH-a-bill? (dishabille)

KEY: Test I: 1—b, 2—b, 3—a, 4—a, 5—a, 6—b, 7—b, 8—b, 9—b, 10—a
Test II: 1—a, 2—a, 3—b, 4—a, 5—b, 6—b, 7—a, 8—b, 9—a, 10—b
Test III: 1—c, 2—a, 3—a, 4—a, 5—b, 6—a, 7—b, 8—a, 9—b, 10—a

(Syllabication is not exact, and is intended only to indicate approximate sounds.)

11

HOW TO INSULT
YOUR ENEMIES

TEASER PREVIEW

What do you call a person who:

• insists on complete and blind obedience?

• bootlicks the rich and influential?

• dabbles at the fine arts?

• is a loud-mouthed, quarrelsome woman?

• has a one-track mind?

• sneers at other people’s cherished traditions?

• does not believe in God?

• commits acts of gross lewdness?

• has imaginary ailments?

THE PHENOMENAL sales of Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People attest to the human enough desire, the almost universal need, to keep on friendly terms with the world. A serious book which presented the other side of the coin, and which might be titled How to Lose Friends and Insult Your Enemies would, to begin with, stand little chance of achieving the dignity of print, and, if published, would likely sell only to the author’s most devoted (and most prosperous) friends.

Psychoanalysis bolsters Carnegie’s conviction that we all want to make friends, but it also points out in no equivocal terms the necessity for expressing, rather than repressing, our hostilities—that is, if we wish to preserve our mental health and not eventually have to seek psychotherapy.

You can express your hostility in many ways, but the most satisfying and least harmful is to do so in words. And in this chapter we shall consider some of the epithets you can hurl at your enemies.

IDEAS

1. slave driver

He makes you toe the mark—right down to the last centimeter. He exacts blind, unquestioning, obedience; demands the strictest conformity to rules, however arbitrary or tyrannical; and will not tolerate the slightest deviation from his orders. He is, in short, the epitome of the army top sergeant.

He is a martinet.

2. bootlicker

He toadies to rich or influential people, catering to their vanity, flattering their ego. He’s the personification of the traditional ward heeler, he out-yesses the Hollywood yes-men. And on top of all these unpleasant characteristics, he’s a complete hypocrite. All his servile attentions and unceasing adulation spring from his own selfish desires to get ahead, not out of any sincere admiration. He cultivates people of power or property so that he can curry favor at the opportune moment.

He’s a sycophant.

3. dabbler

Often, though not necessarily, a person of independent income, he engages superficially in the pursuit of one of the fine arts—painting, writing, sculpturing, composing, et cetera. He does this largely for his own amusement and not to achieve any professional competence; nor is he at all interested in monetary rewards. For him, it is simply a means of passing time pleasantly.

He’s a dilettante.

4. battle-ax

She’s a loud-mouthed, shrewish, turbulent woman; she’s quarrelsome and aggressive, possessing none of those gentle and delicate virtues we like to associate with femininity. Watch out when she’s around, brother—she’s strong-minded, unyielding, sharp-tongued, and dangerous. She’ll curse like a stevedore and yell like a fishwife—and if you’re the butt of her anger, nothing on earth can help you.

She’s a virago.

5. superpatriot

Anything he owns or belongs to is better—simply because he owns it or belongs to it, although he will be quick to find more justifiable explanations. His religion, whatever it may be, is far superior to any other; his political party is the only honest one; his neighborhood puts all others in the city in the shade; his wife is the best cook in Christendom; the kind of car he runs is faster, smoother, more economical, and more beautiful than any other, no matter in what price range; and of course his country and its customs leave nothing to be desired, and inhabitants of other nations are in comparison barely civilized. In short, he is exaggeratedly, aggressively, absurdly, and excessively devoted to his own affiliations—and makes no bones about advertising such devotion.

He’s a chauvinist.

6. fanatic

He has a one-track mind—and when he’s riding a particular hobby, he rides it hard. He has such an exaggerated, all-inclusive zeal for one thing (and it may be his business, his profession, his wife, his children, his stomach, money, photography, or whatever) that it amounts almost to insanity. He talks, eats, sleeps, that one thing—to the point where he bores everyone to distraction.

He’s a monomaniac.

7. attacker

He’s violently against established beliefs, revered traditions, cherished customs—such, says he, stand in the way of reform and progress and are always based on superstition and irrationality. Religion, family, marriage, ethics—he wasn’t there when these were started and by God he’s not going to conform simply because most unthinking people do.

He’s an iconoclast.

8. skeptic

There is no God—that’s his position and you’re not going to budge him from it.

He’s an atheist.

9. self-indulger

He’s lascivious, libidinous, lustful, lewd, wanton, immoral—but more important, he habitually indulges his sexual lust and no woman is safe within his arm’s reach.

He’s a lecher.

10. worrier

He is always sick, though no doctor can find an organic cause for his ailments. He knows he has ulcers, though medical tests show a healthy stomach. He has heart palpitations, but a cardiogram fails to show any abnormality. His headaches are caused (he’s sure of it) by a rapidly growing brain tumor—yet X rays show nothing wrong. Do not think that these maladies are imaginary, however; to him they are most real, nonexistent as they may be in fact. And as he travels from doctor to doctor futilely seeking confirmation of his imminent death, he becomes more and more convinced that he’s too weak to go on much longer.

Physically, of course, there’s nothing the matter with him. But psychically he is indeed a very sick man. His mental tenseness, insecurities, and frustrations are simply taking the form of simulated bodily ills.

He’s a hypochondriac.

USING THE WORDS: I

Can you pronounce the words?

In this chapter we have got into real pronunciation demons—so watch your step every inch of the way. These are top-drawer words, all of them; you will shortly be thinking with them and using them in conversation and writing—so make sure you can say them correctly.

1. martinet

mahr-ti-NETT

*2. sycophant

SICK-o-fint

*3. dilettante

dill-e-TAN-tee

*4. virago

vi-RAY-go

*5. chauvinist

SHO-vi-nist

6. monomaniac

mon-o-MAY-nee-ak

7. iconoclast

eye-KON-o-klast

8. atheist

AY-thee-ist

*9. lecher

LETCH-er

*10. hypochondriac

hye-po-KON-dree-ak

Can you work with the words?

Now for a quick once-over before we dig deeper into the meanings and origins of the new words in this chapter. Can you, with little or no hesitations, match the words in the first column to the key ideas in the second column? With the ever-growing background you now have you should, if your learning has been successful, complete this exercise in no more than ninety seconds, and with a perfect score. Can you do it?

WORDS

KEY IDEAS

1. martinet

a. superficiality

2. sycophant

b. patriotism

3. dilettante

c. godlessness

4. virago

d. single-mindedness

5. chauvinist

e. antitradition

6. monomaniac

f. sex

7. iconoclast

g. illness

8. atheist

h. discipline

9. lecher

i. turbulence

10. hypochondriac

j. flattery

KEY: 1—h, 2—j, 3—a, 4—i, 5—b, 6—d, 7—e, 8—c, 9—f, 10—g

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to each question.

Can you recall the words?

Write the word that fits each brief definition.

Can you use the words?

If one of your friends (or enemies) reacted in each of the following ways, what would you call him?

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: I

1. the French drillmaster

Jean Martinet was the Inspector-General of Infantry during the reign of King Louis XIV—and a stricter, more fanatic drillmaster France had never seen. It was from this time that the French Army’s reputation for discipline dates (a reputation somewhat tarnished since 1940, alas), and it is from the name of this Frenchman that we derive our English word martinet. The word is always used in a derogatory sense and generally shows resentment and anger on the part of the user. The secretary who calls her boss a martinet, the wife who applies the epithet to her husband, the worker who thus refers to his foreman—these speakers all show their contempt for the excessive, inhuman discipline to which they are asked to submit.

Since martinet comes from a man’s name (in the Brief Intermission which follows we shall discover that a number of picturesque English words are similarly derived), there are no related forms built on the same root. There is an adjective martinetish and another noun form, martinetism, but these are used only rarely.

2. a Greek “fig-shower”

Sycophant comes to us from the Greeks. According to Shipley’s Dictionary of Word Origins:

“When a fellow wants to get a good mark, he may polish up an apple and place it on teacher’s desk; his classmates call such a lad an apple-shiner. Less complimentary localities use the term bootlicker. The Greeks had a name for it: fig-shower. Sycophant is from Gr. sykon, fig-phanein, plant-, to show. This was the fellow that informed the officers in charge when (1) the figs in the sacred groves were being taken, or (2) when the Smyrna fig-dealers were dodging the tariff.”

Thus, a sycophant may appear to be a sort of “stool pigeon,” since the latter curries the favor of police officials by “peaching” on his fellow criminals. The sycophant may use this means of ingratiating himself with influential citizens of the community; or he may use flattery, servile attentions, or any other form of insinuating himself in someone’s good graces. A sycophant practices sycophancy, and has a sycophantic attitude. All three forms of the word are highly uncomplimentary—use them with care.

Material may be so delicate or fine in texture that anything behind it will show through. The Greek prefix dia means through; and phanein, as we now know, means to show—hence such material is called diaphanous. Do not use the adjective in reference to all material that is transparent (for example, you would not call glass diaphanous, even though you can see right through it), but only material which is silky, gauzy, filmy, and, in addition, transparent or practically transparent. The word is often applied to female garments—nightgowns, negligees, et cetera.

3. just for his own amusement

Dilettante is from the Italian verb dilettare, to delight. The dilettante paints, writes, composes, plays a musical instrument, or engages in scientific experiments purely for his own delight or amusement—never to develop his ability, make money, become famous, or to satisfy a deep creative urge (the latter, I presume, being the more normal justifications for the time that professional artists, writers, composers, musicians, poets, and scientists spend at their chosen work). A dilettantish attitude is superficial, unprofessional; dilettantism is superficial part-time dabbling in the type of activity which usually engages the full time and energy of the true artist or scientist.

Do not confuse the dilettante, who has a certain amount of native talent or ability, with the tyro, who is the inexperienced beginner in some art, but who may be full of ambition, drive, and energy. To call a man a tyro is to imply that he is just starting in some artistic or scientific field—he’s not much good yet because he has not had time to develop his skill, if any. The dilettante usually has some skill but isn’t doing much with it. On the other hand, anyone who has developed consummate skill in an artistic field, generally allied to music, is called a virtuoso—like Heifetz or Menuhin on the violin, Horowitz on the piano, Adler on the harmonica. Pluralize virtuoso in the normal way—virtuosos; or if you wish to sound more elegant, give it the continental form—virtuosi. The i ending for a plural is the Italian form and is common in musical circles. For example, libretto, the story (or book) of an opera, may be pluralized to libretti; concerto, a form of musical composition, is pluralized concerti. However, the Anglicized librettos and concertos are perfectly correct also. Libretto is pronounced li-BRETT-o; libretti is li-BRETT-ee; concerto is kon-CHUR-to; and concerti is kon-CHUR-tee. Suit your plural form, I would suggest, to the sophistication of your audience.

4. violent women

Virago, the term that most men secretly apply to their mothers-in-law (few husbands have the temerity to use the word openly believing no doubt that discretion is better than valor), comes oddly enough, from the Latin word for man, vir. Perhaps the derivation is not so odd after all; a virago, far from being traditionally feminine (i.e., timid, delicate, low-spoken, et cetera), is most masculine—coarse, troublesome, loud-mouthed. Termagant and harridan are words with essentially the same uncomplimentary meaning as virago—to call a brawling woman a virago, a termagant, and a harridan is admittedly repetitious, but is successful in relieving your feelings. And if you need still more relief, you may add battle-ax, war-horse, shrew, and harpy—or do you get along so well with women that you do not need these expressive terms in your vocabulary?

5. the old man

Nicholas Chauvin, soldier of the French Empire, so vociferously and unceasingly aired his veneration of Napoleon Bonaparte that his name became the laughingstock of all Europe. Thereafter, an exaggerated and blatant patriot was known as a chauvinist—and still is today. In addition, as you have learned earlier in this chapter, chauvinism, by natural extension, applies to blatant veneration of any other affiliation besides one’s country.

To be patriotic is to be normally proud of and devoted to one’s country—to be chauvinistic is to carry such pride and devotion to an obnoxious and pathological point.

We might digress here to investigate an etymological sideroad down which the word patriotic beckons. Patriotic is built on the Latin word pater, father—one’s country is, in a sense, one’s fatherland.

Let us see what other interesting words are built on this same root.

1. patrimony—an inheritance from one’s father. The -mony comes from the same root which gives us money, namely Juno Moneta, the Roman goddess who guarded the temples of finance.

2. patronymic—a name formed on the father’s name, like Johnson (son of John), Martinson, Aaronson, et cetera. The nym is from a Latin root meaning name, and is also found in synonyms, words of the same name (or meaning), antonyms, words of opposite names (or meanings), and homonyms, words of similar sounding names but different spellings and meanings, like bear—bare, way—weigh, et cetera.

3. paternity—fatherhood

4. patriarch—a venerable, fatherlike, old man; an old man in a ruling, fatherlike position.

5. patricide—killing of one’s father.

This list does not necessarily exhaust the number of words built on pater, father, but is sufficient to give you an idea of how closely related many English words are. In your reading you will come across other words containing the letters pater or patr—you will be able to figure them out once you realize that the base is the word father. You might, if you feel ambitious, puzzle out the relationship to the “father idea” in the following words, checking with a dictionary to see how good your linguistic intuition is:

1. paternal

2. patrician

3. patron

4. patronize

5. paterfamilias

6. padre

7. patriarchy

8. paternalism

6. the old lady

As we come to the end of the pater or “father” road, it is only natural to swing off to a side lane labeled mater or “mother road.”

Here we will find valuable words like the following:

1. matriarch—the mother-ruler; the “mother person” who controls a large household, tribe, or country. This word, like patriarch, is built on the root arch, to rule. During the reign of Queen Elizabeth or Queen Victoria, England was a matriarchy—and a few primitive tribes, ruled by women, were matriarchies.

2. maternity—motherhood

3. maternal—motherly

4. matron—an older woman, one sufficiently mature to be a mother

5. alma mater—strictly, soul mother. Actually, the school or college from which one has graduated, and which in a sense is one’s intellectual mother.

6. matrimony—marriage. Though this word is similar to patrimony in spelling, it does not refer to money, as patrimony does; unless, that is, you are cynical enough to believe that women marry for money. As the language was growing, marriage and children went hand in hand—it is therefore not surprising that the word for marriage should be built on the Latin stem for mother. Of course, times have changed, but we won’t go into that.

7. matricide—killing of one’s mother, fortunately not a very common occurrence in civilized life

7. murder of all sorts

We’ve explored the “father road” and the “mother road” and before we return to our starting place, there is an inviting road indicated by the words patricide and matricide. This “cide road” (no pun intended) comes from a Latin verb caedo, to cut down, or kill. Murder being an integral part of human life, there is a word for almost every kind of killing you can think of. Let’s look at some of them.

1. suicide—killing oneself

2. fratricide—killing one’s brother

3. sororicide—killing one’s sister

4. homicide—killing a human being. In law, homicide is the general term for slaying. If intent and premeditation can be proved, the act is murder and punishable as such. If no such intent is present, the act is called manslaughter and receives a lighter punishment. Thus, if your mother-in-law makes your life unbearable and you decide to slip some arsenic into her coffee one bright morning, you are committing murder—that is, if the old lady succumbs. On the other hand, if you run her down—quite accidentally—with your car, bicycle, or wheelchair, with no intent to kill her, you will be accused of manslaughter—that is, if she dies and you can prove you didn’t really mean it. It’s all rather delicate, however, and you might do best to put thoughts of justifiable violence out of your mind.

5. regicide—killing of one’s king, president, or other governing official

6. uxoricide—killing of one’s wife

7. infanticide—killing of a newborn child

8. genocide—killing of a whole race or nation. This is a fairly new word, coined in 1944 by a UN official named Raphael Lemkin, to refer to the mass murder indulged in by Hitler and his henchmen.

These words are built by combining cide, to kill, with the Latin root that applies. It will be profitable to consider these roots for a moment, without going into too much detail or getting bogged down.

Just glance through this chart quickly, not so much to learn any new words, but more to see the relationship of the preceding-cide words to others that you probably know.

USING THE WORDS: II

We have only half finished exploring the etymological bypaths suggested by the basic words of this chapter, but we might pause for a moment to digest the new words and roots which we have already turned up. First, let us see whether you can recall the meaning of the following important roots.

Can you recognize roots?

Fill in the meaning of each root.

Before we go on to the second half of our explorations with the basic chapter words, suppose you tighten up your comprehension of the thirty-two new words we’ve learned thus far.

Can you pronounce the words?

*1. sycophancy

SICK-o-fin-see

*2. sycophantic

sick-o-FAN-tik

3. diaphanous

dye-AFF-in-us

*4. dilettanti

dil-e-TAN-tee

5. dilettantism

dil-e-TAN-tizm

6. tyro

TYE-ro

*7. virtuoso

vur-choo-O-so

*8. virtuosi

vur-choo-O-see

*9. termagant

TUR-ma-guint

10. harridan

HAR-i-din (HAR as in Harry)

*11. chauvinism

SHO-vi-nizm

12. chauvinistic

sho-vi-NISS-tik

13. patrimony

PAT-ri-moe-nee

14. patronymic

pat-ro-NIM-ik

15. paternity

pa-TUR-ni-tee

16. patriarch

PAY-tree-ark

17. patricide

PAT-ri-syde

18. matriarch

MAY-tree-ark

19. maternity

ma-TUR-ni-tee

20. matron

MAY-trun

*21. alma

mater AL-ma MAY-ter

22. maternal

ma-TUR-nil

23. matricide

MAT-ri-syde

24. fratricide

FRAT-ri-syde

*25. sororicide

so-RAHR-i-syde

26. homicide

HOM-i-syde

*27. regicide

REDGE-i-syde

*28. uxoricide

uk-SORE-i-syde

29. infanticide

in-FAN-ti-syde

30. genocide

JEN-o-syde

*31. uxorious

uk-SORE-ee-us

32. matrimony

MAT-ri-moe-nee

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and definitions.

1. sycophancy

a. murder of one’s father

2. dilettantism

b. excessive patriotism

3. chauvinism

c. murder of one’s ruler

4. patrimony

d. inheritance from father

5. patricide

e. murder of one’s sister

6. matricide

f. murder of one’s brother

7. fratricide

g. murder of a person

8. sororicide

h. toadying

9. homicide

i. murder of one’s mother

10. regicide

j. dabbling

KEY: 1—h, 2—j, 3—b, 4—d, 5—a, 6—i, 7—f, 8—e, 9—g, 10—c

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. uxoricide

a. marriage

2. infanticide

b. killing of one’s child

3. genocide

c. fatherhood

4. matrimony

d. mother-ruler

5. matriarch

e. killing of one’s wife

6. maternity

f. older woman

7. matron

g. one’s school or college

8. alma mater

h. motherhood

9. paternity

i. old man in governing position

10. patriarch

j. killing of whole groups of people

KEY: 1—e, 2—b, 3—j, 4—a, 5—d, 6—h, 7—f, 8—g, 9—c, 10—i

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. uxorious

a. catering to people of power or position

2. patronymic

b. name from father

3. chauvinistic

c. dabblers

4. sycophantic

d. an accomplished musician

5. diaphanous

e. filmy, gauzy

6. dilettanti

f. blatantly overpatriotic

7. tyro

g. loud-mouthed woman

8. virtuoso

h. a beginner

9. termagant, harridan

i. excessively doting on one’s wife

KEY: 1—i, 2—b, 3—f, 4—a, 5—e, 6—c, 7—h, 8—d, 9—g

Do you understand the words?

Answer each question.

Can you recall the words?

With the thirty-two words well fixed in your mind, your task now is to recall the one which fits each definition. Refer to the list of words only when absolutely necessary. Greatest benefit will come from saying the complete list in the pronunciation test several times, thinking of the meaning in each case, then keeping your eyes off the list as you aim for a perfect score in this test.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: II

1. madness of all sorts

This is a long chapter and I have cut it up into several parts to give a boost to your learning. By now you can see how easy it is to learn great numbers of new words easily, quickly, and successfully if these words have some central core of similarity. In the second part of our study of derivations we shall discover scores of new words by continuing to wander down any etymological bypath that looks inviting.

Let’s start with monomaniac, the man (or woman, of course) who develops an abnormal obsession in respect to one particular thing, but is otherwise normal. The abnormal, almost psychotic part of his nature is indicated by the last half of the word—maniac; the lone, single, separate, and isolated quality of the obsession is indicated by the Greek root mono, which means one.

We’ll further explore mono, one, and mania, madness, in just a moment—right now let’s be quite sure we understand the full implications of monomaniac.

When you call a man a monomaniac you imply that he carries his interest in some one thing to such a point that it scarcely makes sense. It may not be the same thing all his life or for any great length of time—but whatever it is, and for however long it engages his attention, nothing else in the world matters, and everything else in the world is subordinated to it.

Psychiatry recognizes other abnormal states, all more dangerous than monomania, all psychotic, all defined by words built on the Greek stem mania, madness.

1. dipsomania—morbid compulsion to keep on absorbing alcoholic beverages. The dipsomaniac has been defined as the person for whom one drink is too many, a thousand not enough. Recent investigations suggest that dipsomania may not necessarily be caused by anxieties or frustrations, but possibly by metabolic or physiological weaknesses.

Adjective: dipsomaniacal (dip-so-ma-NYE-a-k’l)

2. Kleptomania—morbid compulsion to steal, not from any economic motive, but simply because the urge to take another’s possessions is irresistible.

Adjective: kleptomaniacal (klep-to-ma-NYE-a-kl)

3. Pyromania—morbid compulsion to set fires. Pyromania should not be confused with incendiarism, which is malicious burning of another’s property and is not morbidly or psychotically impelled. The pyromaniac is mentally unbalanced; the incendiary is simply antisocial. In law, setting fire to another’s or to one’s own property for the purpose of economic gain (such as the collection of an insurance policy) is called arson and is a felony. The perpetrator of such a crime is an arsonist. In short, the pyromaniac sets fire for the thrill; the incendiary for revenge; the arsonist for money.

Adjective: pyromaniacal (pye-ro-ma-NYE-a-k’l)

4. Megalomania—morbid delusions of one’s grandeur, importance, godliness, et cetera. Jokes accusing the heads of governments of megalomania are common, the most recent being:

Churchill, Roosevelt, and Stalin were talking about their dreams.

Churchill: I dreamed last night that God had made me prime minister of the whole world.

Roosevelt: I dreamed that God had made me president of the whole world.

Stalin: How could you gentlemen have such dreams. I didn’t dream of offering you those positions!

Perhaps the purest cases of megalomania in history were Napoleon and Hitler; both gentlemen were obviously psychotic and had delusions of their invincibility.

Do not confuse the megalomaniac with the egomaniac (see Chapter 3); the latter is morbidly, psychotically wrapped up in himself.

Adjective: megalomaniacal (meg-a-lo-ma-NYE-a-k’l)

5. Nymphomania—morbid, incessant, and intense desire, on the part of a female, for sexual intercourse. A woman with such desires is considered insane and is called a nymphomaniac; a man, on the other hand, is considered dangerous, and is called a lecher.

Adjective: nymphomaniacal (nim-fo-ma-NYE-a-k’l)

So much for manias. There is another side to the coin. Just as personality disorders can cause morbid attraction toward certain things or acts (stealing, fire, power, sex, et cetera), so also other emotional ills can cause violent or morbid repulsions to certain conditions, things, or situations. There are people who have irrational and deep-seated dread of cats, dogs, fire, the number thirteen, snakes, thunder or lightning, various colors, and so on literally without end. Such morbid dread or fear is called, in the language of psychiatry, a phobia, and we might pause to investigate the three most common ones. These are:

1. Claustrophobia—a dread of being physically hemmed in, of enclosed spaces, of crowds, et cetera.

2. Agoraphobia—a dread of space, the reverse of claustrophobia. People suffering from agoraphobia prefer to stay shut in their homes as much as possible, and become panic-stricken in such places as open fields, large public buildings like railroad terminals, et cetera.

3. Acrophobia—fear of high places. The victims of this malady cannot climb ladders or trees, or stand on tops of furniture. They refuse to go onto the roof of a building or look out the window of one of the higher floors.

A true claustrophobe, agoraphobe, or acrophobe is not an emotionally balanced personality.

As for mono, one, it will suffice to recognize that a number of common words are built on this Greek stem. Monocle, monk, monastery, monotonous, monarchy, monogamy, monoplane, monopoly, monosyllable all have relationships to the idea of “oneness” which you can readily see.

2. an adolescent characteristic

The iconoclast, who sneers at convention and tradition, is more likely than not to be an adolescent either chronologically or emotionally. Adolescence is the confused and rebellious time of life in which iconoclasm is quite normal—indeed, the adolescent who is not iconoclastic to some degree should be considered either immature or maladjusted. The word is from icon, a religious image, plus clast, to break. Iconoclasm does not of course have to be restricted to religion.

3. is there a God?

Atheist combines the Greek negative prefix a, not, without, and theos, God. Do not confuse atheism with agnosticism, the philosophy which claims that God is unknowable, and may or may not exist, but man can never come to a final conclusion about Him. The agnostic does not deny the existence of a deity, as does the atheist; he simply holds that no proof can be adduced one way or the other.

3. how to know

In agnostic we find the root gnos, from the Greek verb to know, and the familiar negative particle a which we met in atheism and anachronism and will meet later on in atrophy. Thus, an agnostic, etymologically speaking, does not know.

Note how handy it is to be acquainted with the root gnos when we examine the words diagnosis and prognosis. A diagnosis is an examination, medically or scientifically, to determine the cause and nature of ills—so that these may be known and therefore properly treated.

A prognosis on the other hand is, strictly, a knowing beforehand.

Thus, you may say to a doctor: “What’s the diagnosis, Doc?”

“Diabetes.”

Then you say, “And what’s the prognosis?”

“If the patient takes insulin and watches his diet, he’ll soon be as good as new.”

The doctor’s prognosis, then, is a forecast of the development or trend of a disease. He knows, beforehand, from previous similar cases, what to expect.

The verb from diagnosis is diagnose; the verb from prognosis is prognosticate. To use the verb prognosticate correctly, be sure that your meaning involves the forecasting of developments from a consideration of symptoms—whether the disease be physical, mental, political, economic, or what have you.

In school, you doubtless recall taking diagnostic tests; these measured not what you were supposed to have learned during the semester, but your general knowledge in a field so that your teachers would know what remedial steps to take, just as a doctor relies on his diagnosis (praying it is correct) to decide what drugs or treatments to prescribe.

In a Reading Clinic, for example, various diagnostic machines and tests are used—these tell the clinician what is wrong with a student’s reading and what measures will probably increase such a student’s reading efficiency.

4. getting back to God

Theos, God, is also found in:

1. Monotheism: belief in one God

2. Polytheism: belief in many gods, as in ancient Greece or Rome

3. Pantheism: belief that God is not in man’s image, but is a combination of all the forces of the universe

4. Theology: the study of God and religion

5. Theocracy: rule by the church

The roots which combined with theos to produce monotheism, polytheism, pantheism, theology, and theocracy are worth considering. Mono (one) and ology (the study of) we have already worked with, and poly (many) we have met before.

5. eight ways of saying the same thing

A lecher is a devotee of lechery and is so called from an old French verb lechier, to lick. The adjective lecherous has many synonyms, most of them also, and significantly, starting with the letter l, a sound formed with the tongue, supposedly the seat of sensation. These all mean about the same as lecherous, but are not quite so strong or quite so significant of successful action, Among them are:

1. libidinous—from libido, pleasure

2. lascivious—from lascivia, wantonness

3. lubricious—from lubricus, slippery

4. licentious—from licere, to be permitted, the root from which we get license

5. lewd—the previous four words derive from Latin, but this one is from simple Anglo-Saxon lewed, vile.

6. lustful—also from an Anglo-Saxon word, meaning pleasure, desire.

Libidinous, lascivious, lubricious, licentious, lewd, lecherous, lustful are seven ways of saying the same thing—sexy. The implication of all seven words is derogatory. Perhaps it is a commentary on our puritanical civilization that there are few, if any, words that mean sexy with a complimentary or admiring connotation.

Another valuable synonym, which does not begin with l, is prurient, which comes from the Latin verb to itch. Prurience is excessive sexual inquisitiveness, desire, longing, et cetera.

6. more—and less

Hypochondria is built on two Greek roots: hypo—under and chondria—the cartilage of the breastbone. This may sound farfetched until you realize that under the breastbone is the abdomen; the ancient Greeks believed that morbid anxiety about one’s health arose in the abdomen—and no one is more morbidly, unceasingly, and unhappily anxious about his health than the hypochondriac.

Hypo, under or less, is a useful root to know. The hypodermic, which we have already discussed in a previous chapter, penetrates under the skin; a hypothyroid person has an underworking thyroid gland.

On the other hand, hyper is the Greek root meaning over or above and is just the opposite in meaning to hypo. The hypercritical person is excessively fault-finding; hyperthyroidism is an overworking of the thyroid gland; hypertension is the medical term for excessively high blood pressure; and you can easily figure out the meanings of hyperacidity, hyperactive, hypersensitive, hyperconscious, et cetera.

7. too much growth—and not enough

Hypertrophy combines hyper, too much, with trephein, to nourish; hypertrophy of any bodily organ or limb is excessive and abnormal growth. Contrariwise, atrophy (a, not, plus trephein, nourish) of a limb is a wasting away, an underdevelopment.

USING THE WORDS: III

We have discussed sixty-three or more related and derived forms—all springing from our last five basic words, monomaniac, iconoclast, atheist, lecher, and hypochondriac. If you have worked carefully, conscientiously, and with good comprehension, you are ready for your tests, the first of which, as usual, will be the important one that guides you in the correct pronunciation of these important words.

Can you pronounce the words?

You can tell, by the rate of your learning, by the speed with which you can absorb—and remember—new words in carload lots, that you are well into the book by now; and, more important, well into the natural, simple, and practically foolproof technique of building a bigger vocabulary by concentrating on ideas and on relationships, etymological and otherwise.

The sixty-three new words we discussed in the last section are for the most part sophisticated, advanced words. To make sure you will say them properly, I am going to divide this test into several parts, giving you a short section at a time.

—difficult words

WATCH THE “NYE” SYLLABLE

*1. monoimniacal

mon-o-ma-NYE-a-k’l

*2. kleptomaniacal

klep-to-ma-NYE-a-k’l

*3. pyromaniacal

pye-ro-ma-NYE-a-k’l

*4. megalomaniacal

meg-a-lo-ma-NYE-a-k’l

*5. nymphomaniacal

nim-fo-ma-NYE-a-k’l

*6. dipsomaniacal

dip-so-ma-NYE-a-k’l

*7. egomaniacal

ee-go-ma-NYE-a-k’l

*8. maniacal

ma-NYE-a-k’l

II—manias and maniacs

9. monomania

MON-o-may-nee-a

10. kleptomania

KLEP-to-may-nee-a

11. pyromania

PYE-ro-may-nee-a

12. megalomania

MEG-a-lo-may-nee-a

13. nymphomania

NIM-fo-may-nee-a

14. dipsomania

DIP-so-may-nee-a

15. egomania

EE-go-may-nee-a

16. mania

MAY-nee-a

17. monomaniac

MON-o-may-nee-ak

18. kleptomaniac

KLEP-to-may-nee-ak

19. pyromaniac

PYE-ro-may-nee-ak

20. megalomaniac

MEG-a-lo-may-nee-ak

21. nymphomaniac

NIM-fo-may-nee-ak

22. dipsomaniac

DIP-so-may-nee-ak

III—sex

23. lechery

LETCH-er-ee

24. libidinous

li-BID-in-us

25. lascivious

la-SIV-ee-us

*26. lubricious

loo-BRISH-us

27. licentious

lye-SEN-shus

28. lewd

LOOD (rhyme with FOOD)

29. lustful

LUST-ful

*30. lubricity

loo-BRISS-i-tee

31. prurient

PROO-ree-ent

32. prurience

PROO-ree-ence

IV—God

33. atheism

AY-the-izm

34. agnosticism

ag-NOSS-ti-sizm

35. agnostic

ag-NOSS-tik

36. monotheism

MON-o-thee-izm

37. polytheism

POLL-ee-thee-izm

38. pantheism

PAN-thee-izm

39. theology

thee-OL-o-jee

40. theocracy

thee-OK-ra-see

V—hypo and hyper

41. hypochondria

hye-po-KON-dree-a

42. hypothyroid

hye-po-THYE-royd

43. hyperthyroidism

hye-pur-THYE-roy-dizm

44. hypertension

hye-pur-TEN-shun

*45. hypertrophy

hye-PUR-tro-fee

VI—other words

*46. incendiarism

in-SEN-dee-er-izm

47. incendiary

in-SEN-dee-er-ee

48. arson

AR-s’n

49. arsonist

AR-s’n-ist

*50. iconoclasm

eye-KON-o-klazm

51. iconoclastic

eye-kon-o-KLASS-tik

52. atrophy

AT-ro-fee

53. diagnosis

dye-ag-NO-sis

54. diagnose

DYE-ag-noce

55. prognosis

prog-NO-sis

56. diagnostic

dye-ag-NOSS-tik

57. prognosticate

prog-NOSS-ti-kayt

VII—phobias

58. claustrophobia

klaw-stro-FOE-be-a

*59. agoraphobia

AG-or-a-FOE-be-a

*60. acrophobia

AK-ro-FOE-be-a

*61. claustrophobe

CLAW-stro-fobe

*62. agoraphobe

AG-or-a-fobe

*63. acrophobe

AK-ro-fobe

Can you work with the words? (I)

This has been a long chapter, and we have discussed, more or less in detail, close to 100 words or forms. Just to keep everything straight in your mind now, see how successfully you can work out the following matching exercises, which will concern any of the words we have discussed in this chapter.

WORDS

DEFINITIONS

1. martinet

a. lack of seriousness

2. sycophancy

b. harridan, shrew

3. dilettantism

c. excessive patriotism

4. tyro

d. name from father

5. virtuoso

e. venerable and influential old man

6. termagant

f. beginner

7. chauvinism

g. brilliant performer

8. patrimony

h. bootlicking

9. patronymic

i. inheritance from father

10. patriarch

j. strict disciplinarian

KEY: 1—j, 2—h, 3—a, 4—f, 5—g, 6—b, 7—c, 8—i, 9—d, 10—e

Can you work with the words? (II)

WORDS

DEFINITIONS

1. patricide

a. mother-killing

2. alma mater

b. tending to fixate on one thing

3. matricide

c. wife-killing

4. fratricide

d. father-killing

5. uxoricide

e. tending to set fires

6. uxorious

f. alcoholic

7. monomaniacal

g. wife-doting

8. pyromaniacal

h. school or college

9. megalomaniacal

i. tending to delusions of grandeur

10. dipsomaniacal

j. brother-killing

KEY: 1—d, 2—h, 3—a, 4—j, 5—c, 6—g, 7—b, 8—e, 9—i, 10—f

Can you work with the words? (III)

WORDS

DEFINITIONS

1. kleptomania

a. disbelief in God

2. libidinousness

b. belief in many gods

3. atheism

c. lewdness

4. agnosticism

d. belief that God is nature

5. polytheism

e. morbid anxiety about health

6. monotheism

f. belief in one god

7. theology

g. study of religion

8. pantheism

h. psychotic thievery

9. theocracy

i. rule by church

10. hypochondria

j. skepticism about God

KEY: 1—h, 2—c, 3—a, 4—j, 5—b, 6—f, 7—g, 8—d, 9—i, 10—e

Can you work with the words? (IV)

WORDS

DEFINITIONS

1. hypothyroidism

a. too much thyroid

2. lasciviousness

b. malicious fire setting

3. hyperthyroidism

c. not enough thyroid

4. hypertrophy

d. fire setting for gain

5. incendiarism

e. deficient development

6. arson

f. determining causes

7. iconoclasm

g. excessive development

8. atrophy

h. prurience

9. diagnosis

i. foretelling probable development

10. prognosis

j. scoffing at tradition

KEY: 1—c, 2—h, 3—a, 4—g, 5—b, 6—d, 7—j, 8—e, 9—f, 10—i

WORDS

DEFINITIONS

1. prurience

a. morbid self-interest

2. egomania

b. fear of enclosed places

3. agoraphobia

c. high blood pressure

4. claustrophobia

d. sexual longing

5. acrophobia

e. fear of heights

6. hypertension

f. fear of open spaces

KEY: 1—d, 2—a, 3—f, 4—b, 5—e, 6—c

Can you recall the words?

I—manias

Now refresh your memory by reviewing in your mind the meanings of words 1 through 22, as numbered in the pronunciation test (page 256). Then making no further references to the list, write the word that correctly fits each of the following definitions.

1. single fixed obsession

1. __________

2. irresistible compulsion to set fires

2. __________

3. unceasing desire, on the part of a woman, for sexual intercourse

3. __________

4. morbid desire to steal

4. __________

5. delusions of grandeur

5. __________

6. alcoholism

6. __________

7. morbid obsession with oneself

7. __________

II—sex

Now review words 23 through 32 and, when ready, write five adjectives beginning with l which are synonymous with sexy.

8. __________

9. __________

10. __________

11. __________

12. __________

Write one beginning with p.

13. __________

III—God

Review words 33 through 40, then write the word that fits each definition.

14. study of religion

14. __________

15. rule by priests

15. __________

16. God is the sum total of natural laws

16. __________

17. there is no God

17. __________

18. no one knows about God

18. __________

19. belief in one God

19. __________

20. belief in many gods

20. __________

IV—hypo and hyper

Review words 41 through 45.

21. morbid anxiety about one’s health

21. __________

22. excessive development of an organ or limb

22. __________

23. deficient working of the thyroid gland

23. __________

24. excessive working of same

24. __________

25. high blood pressure

25. __________

V—other words

Review words 46 through 66

26. wasting-away or deficient development of an organ or limb

26. __________

27. malicious fire setting

27. __________

28. the felony of setting fire for economic gain

28. __________

29. sneering contempt of convention or tradition

29. __________

30. a forecast of development

30. __________

31. designed to discover causes

31. __________

32. dread of enclosed places

32. __________

33. fear of heights

33. __________

34. one who has a morbid dread of open spaces

34. __________

KEY: 1—monomania, 2—pyromania, 3—nymphomania, 4—kleptomania, 5—megalomania, 6—dipsomania, 7—egomania, 8—12 (in any order, five of the following) libidinous, lecherous, licentious, lascivious, lewd, lustful, lubricious, 13—prurient, 14—theology, 15—theocracy, 16—pantheism, 17—atheism, 18—agnosticism, 19—monotheism, 20—polytheism, 21—hypochondria, 22—hypertrophy, 23—hypothyroidism, 24—hyperthyroidism, 25—hypertension, 26—atrophy, 27—incendiarism, 28—arson, 29—iconoclasm, 30—prognosis, 31—diagnostic, 32—claustrophobia, 33—acrophobia, 34—agoraphobe

Can you remember roots?

Now, as a final clincher, can you write the root with each of the following meanings, and also give one example of the use of such root?

CHAPTER REVIEW

Do you recognize the words?

Check the word which most closely fits each definition.

1. Disciplinarian:

(a) martinet, (b) virago, (c) dilettante

2. Bootlicker:

(a) chauvinist, (b) sycophant, (c) lecher

3. Scoffer at tradition:

(a) monomaniac, (b) hypochondriac, (c) iconoclast

4. Disbeliever in God:

(a) agnostic, (b) atheist, (c) chauvinist

5. Accomplished musician:

(a) tyro, (b) dilettante, (c) virtuoso

6. Sheer, flimsy:

(a) diaphanous, (b) uxorious, (c) paternal

7. Abusive woman:

(a) termagant, (b) virtuoso, (c) matriarch

8. Murder of one’s wife:

(a) genocide, (b) uxoricide, (c) sororicide

9. Old man in ruling position:

(a) matriarch, (b) patricide, (c) patriarch

10. Morbid compulsion to steal:

(a) dipsomania, (b) nymphomania, (c) kleptomania

11. Delusions of grandeur:

(a) megalomania, (b) egomania, (c) pyromania

12. Lewd, lustful:

(a) prurient, (b) agnostic, (c) hypochondriac

13. Belief in many Gods:

(a) polytheism, (b) monotheism, (c) agnosticism

14. Setting fire for economic gain:

(a) pyromania, (b) incendiarism, (c) arson

15. Overgrowth:

(a) atrophy, (b) hypertrophy, (c) hypertension

16. Morbid fear of heights:

(a) agoraphobia, (b) acrophobia, (c) claustrophobia

KEY: 1—a, 2—b, 3—c, 4—b, 5—c, 6—a, 7—a, 8—b, 9—c, 10—c, 11—a, 12—a, 13—a, 14—c, 15—b, 16—b

MAGAZINES THAT WILL HELP YOU

When a pregnant woman takes calcium pills, she must make sure also that her diet is rich in vitamin B, since this vitamin makes the absorption of the calcium possible. In building your vocabulary by learning great quantities of new words, you too must take a certain vitamin, metaphorically speaking, to help you absorb, understand, and remember these words. This vitamin is reading—for it is in books and magazines that you will find the words used that we have been discussing in these pages. To learn new words without seeing them applied in the context of your reading is to do only half the job and to run the risk of gradually forgetting the new additions to your vocabulary, once you have completed the final chapter. To combine your vocabulary building with increased reading is to make assurance doubly sure.

You are now so alert to the words and roots we have discussed that you will find that most of your reading will be full of the new words you have learned—and every time you do see one of the words used in context in a book or magazine, you will understand it more fully and will be taking long steps toward using it yourself.

Among magazines, I would like particularly to recommend the following, which will act both to keep you mentally alert and to set the new words you are learning:

1. Harper’s Magazine

2. Atlantic Monthly

3. The New Yorker

4. American Mercury

5. The Nation

6. The New Republic

7. Saturday Review of Literature

These periodicals are aimed at the alert, verbally sophisticated, educated reader; you will see in them, without fail, most of the words we have been studying together—not to mention hosts of other valuable words you will want to add to your vocabulary.

BRIEF INTERMISSION NINE:
SOME INTERESTING DERIVATIONS

PEOPLE WHO MADE OUR LANGUAGE

Bloomers:

Mrs. Elizabeth Smith Miller invented them in 1849, and showed a working model to a famous woman’s rights advocate, Amelia J. Bloomer. Amelia was fascinated by the idea of garments that were both modest (they then reached right down to the ankles) and convenient—and promptly sponsored them. . . .

Boycott:

Charles C. Boycott was an English land agent whose difficult duty it was to collect high rents from Irish farmers. In protest, the farmers ostracized him, not even allowing him to make purchases in town nor hire workers to harvest his crops.

Marcel:

Marcel was an ingenious Parisian hairdresser who felt he could improve on the button curls popular in 1875. He did, and made a fortune.

Silhouette:

Finance Minister of France just before the Revolution, Etienne De Silhouette advocated the simple life, so that excess money could go into the treasury instead of into luxurious living. And the profile is the simplest form of portraiture, if you get the connection.

Derrick:

A seventeenth-century English hangman, Derrick by name, hoisted to their death some of the most notorious criminals of the day.

Sadist:

Because Count de Sade, an eighteenth-century Frenchman, found his greatest delight torturing friends and mistresses, the term sadist was derived from his name. His memoirs shocked his nation and the world by the alarming frankness with which he described his morbid and bloodthirsty cruelty.

Galvanism:

Luigi Galvani, the Italian physiologist, found by accident that an electrically charged scalpel could send a frog’s corpse into muscular convulsions. Experimenting further, he eventually discovered the principles of chemically produced electricity. His name is responsible not only for the technical expressions galvanism, galvanized iron, and galvanometer, but also for that highly graphic phrase, “galvanized into action.”

Guppies:

In 1868, R. J. Lechmere Guppy, president of the Scientific Association of Trinidad, sent some specimens of a tiny tropical fish to the British Museum. Ever since, fish of this species have been called guppies.

Nicotine:

Almost four hundred years ago, Jean Nicot, a French ambassador, bought some tobacco seeds from a Flemish trader. Nicot’s successful efforts to popularize the plant in Europe brought him linguistic immortality.

PLACES WHICH MADE OUR LANGUAGE

Bayonne, France:

Where was first manufactured the daggerlike weapon which fits over the muzzle end of a rifle—the bayonet.

Cantalupo, Italy:

The first place in Europe to grow those luscious melons we now call cantaloupes.

Calicut, India:

The city from which we first imported a kind of cotton cloth now known as calico.

Tuxedo Park, New York:

In the country club of this exclusive and wealthy community, the short evening coat for men, or tuxedo, was popularized.

Egypt:

It was once supposed that the colorful, fortunetelling wanderers, or gypsies, hailed from this ancient land.

Damascus, Syria:

Where an elaborately patterned silk, damask, was first made.

Tzu-t’ing, China:

Once a great seaport in Fukien Province. Marco Polo called it Zaitun, and in time a silk fabric made there was called satin.

Frankfurt, Germany:

Where the burghers once greatly enjoyed their smoked beef and pork sausages, which we now ask for in delicatessen stores by the name of frankfurters.

12

HOW TO FLATTER
YOUR FRIENDS

TEASER PREVIEW

What adjective aptly describes a person who is:

• friendly and easy to get along with?

• tireless?

• simple, frank, aboveboard?

• keen-minded?

• generous, noble, and forgiving?

• able to do many things skillfully?

• unflinching in the face of pain or disaster?

• brave, fearless?

• charming and witty?

• smooth, polished, cultured?

WORDS are the symbols of emotions, as well as of ideas. You can show your feeling by the tone you use (“You’re silly” can be an insult, an accusation, or an endearment, depending on how you say it) or by the words you choose (you can label a quality either “childish” or “childlike,” depending on whether you admire it or condemn it—it’s the same quality, no matter what you call it).

In Chapter 11 we discussed ten basic words that you might use to show your disapproval. In this chapter we discuss ten words which indicate wholehearted approval.

IDEAS

1. put the kettle on, Polly

He’s a friendly chap, happy, extroverted, and gregarious. He’s the sort of person who will invite you out for a drink, who likes to transact business around the lunch table, who puts the coffee to perking as soon as company drops in. He’s sociable, genial, cordial, affable—and he likes parties and all the eating and drinking that goes with them.

He’s convivial.

2. you can’t tire him

Arnold Bennett once pointed out that we all have the same amount of time—twenty-four hours a day. Strictly speaking, that’s as inconclusive an observation as Bennett ever made. It’s not time that counts, but energy—and of that wonderful quality we all have very different amounts, from the person who wakes up tired, no matter how much sleep he’s had, to that lucky, well-adjusted mortal who hardly ever needs to sleep.

Energy comes from a healthy body, of course; it also comes from a psychological balance, a lack of conflicts and insecurities.

And this man apparently has boundless, illimitable energy—he’s on the go from morning to night, and often far into the night, working hard, playing hard, never tiring, never “pooped” or “bushed”—and getting twice as much done as any three other people.

He’s indefatigable.

3. no tricks, no secrets

He is pleasingly frank, utterly lacking in pretense or artificiality, in fact quite unable to hide his feelings or thoughts—and so honest and aboveboard that he can scarcely conceive of trickery, chicanery, or dissimulation in anyone. There is, then, about him, the simple naturalness and unsophistication of a child.

He’s ingenuous.

4. sharp as a razor

He has a mind like a steel trap; his insight into problems that would confuse or mystify people of less keenness or discernment is just short of amazing.

He’s perspicacious.

5. no placating necessary

He is most generous about forgiving a slight, an insult, an injury. Never does he harbor resentment, store up petty grudges, or waste energy or thought on means of revenge or retaliation. How could he? He’s much too big a person.

He’s magnanimous.

6. one-man orchestra

The range of his aptitudes is truly formidable. If he’s a writer, he has professional facility in poetry, fiction, biography, criticism, essays—you just mention it and he’ll do it, and very competently. If he’s a musician, he can play the oboe, the bassoon, the French horn, the bass viol, the piano, the celesta, the xylophone, even the clavichord if you can dig one up for him. If he’s an artist, he’ll use oils, water colors, gouache, charcoal, pen and ink—he can do anything! Or maybe the range of his abilities cuts across all fields, as in the case of Michelangelo, who was an expert sculptor, painter, poet, architect, and inventor. In case you’re thinking “Jack of all trades . . . ,” you’re wrong—he’s master of all trades.

He’s versatile.

7. no grumbling

He bears his troubles bravely, never begs for sympathy, never yields to sorrow, never winces at pain. It sounds almost superhuman, but it’s true.

He’s stoical

8. no fear

There is not, as the hackneyed phrase has it, a cowardly bone in his body. He is a stranger to fear, he’s audacious, dauntless, contemptuous of danger and hardship.

He’s intrepid.

9. no dullness

He’s witty, clever, delightful, a brilliant and entertaining conversationalist.

He’s scintillating.

10. city slicker

He’s cultivated, poised, tactful, socially so experienced, sophisticated, and courteous that he is at home in any group, at ease under all circumstances of social intercourse. You cannot help admiring (perhaps envying) his smoothness and self-assurance, his blandness, tact, and congeniality.

He’s urbane.

USING THE WORDS: I

Can you pronounce the words?

1. convivial

kon-VIV-ee-il

*2. indefatigable

in-de-FAT-i-ga-b’l

*3. ingenuous

in-JEN-yoo-us

4. perspicacious

pur-spi-KAY-shus

5. magnanimous

mag-NAN-i-mus

*6. versatile

VUR-sa-till

7. stoical

STO-i-k’l

*8. intrepid

in-TREP-id

9. scintillating

SIN-ti-lay-ting

10. urbane

ur-BAYN

Can you work with the words?

Match words and definitions.

1. convivial

a. frank

2. indefatigable

b. unflinching

3. ingenuous

c. noble

4. perspicacious

d. capable in many directions

5. magnanimous

e. tireless

6. versatile

f. fearless

7. stoical

g. keen-minded

8. intrepid

h. witty

9. scintillating

i. friendly

10. urbane

j. polished, bland

KEY: 1—i, 2—e, 3—a, 4—g, 5—c, 6—d, 7—b, 8—f, 9—h, 10—j

Do you understand the words? (I)

Mark each statement true or false.

Do you understand the words? (II)

Decide whether each pair of words is the same or opposite in meaning.

Can you recall the words?

Write the word suggested by each brief description.

By now, having finished these five intensive tests on our ten basic words, you are practically an expert on every one of them. Naturally, there’s a lot more to these expressive adjectives than has been intimated in the few brief paragraphs that have thus far been presented. For a completer and richer understanding, see the next section which will enrich your comprehension by offering side lights, examples, derivations, and related forms and words.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: I

1. eat, drink, and be merry

The Latin verb vivere, to live, and the corresponding noun vita, life, have given us a goodly number of important English words.

Convivere is the Latin compound verb to live together; from this, in Latin, was formed the noun convivium (don’t get impatient; we’ll be back to English directly), which meant a feast or banquet; and from convivium we get our English word convivial, an adjective which describes the kind of person who likes to attend feasts and banquets because he enjoys (and supplies) the jovial good-fellowship usually characteristic of such gatherings.

Politicians, salesmen, presidents of colleges, and other such folk are noted for their conviviality; they are, says psychiatrist Eric Berne in his excellent introduction to psychoanalysis, The Mind in Action, “stomach-minded” or “visceratonic”—sociable, tending to roundness if not stoutness, gay, extroverted, pleasant company. Dr. Berne roughly (he admits that there is a good deal of overlapping) divides humanity into three types: visceratonic—stomach-minded people; cerebratonic—brain-minded people; and somatotonic—body-minded people. Visceratonic individuals are interested in food and companionship; cerebratonic individuals are interested in intellectual pursuits; and somatotonic individuals are interested in movement and action: walking, athletics, bodily discharge of energy. Each group, says Berne, attacks its troubles in a characteristic way:

The visceratonic goes out to supper, inviting some friends along so he can talk his problems over with them while eating.

The cerebratonic reads a book, sits alone and ruminates, or in some way thinks his way to a solution.

The somatotonic scrubs the floor, polishes his car, puts up a shelf, does something that requires physical energy.

2. life

The stem vivere (Latin, to live) is found in such common words as:

1. vivacious—full of the joy of living; animated; peppy—a vivacious girl

2. vivid—possessing the freshness of life; strong; sharp; a vivid imagination; a vivid color

3. revive—bring back to life—spirits of ammonia will revive an unconscious person

4. vivisection—operating on a live animal. Sect is the Latin root to cut. Vivisection is the process of experimenting with live animals, by scientists, to discover causes and cures of disease. Antivivisectionists are those misguided souls who, out of foolish sentimentality, object to the procedure, though many of our most important medical discoveries were made through vivisection.

Viviparous, also from vivere, means producing young (babies) from the living body—the means by which all human beings and most other animals are born. Viviparous is contrasted to oviparous, producing young from eggs, the process by which most fish, all fowl, and other lower forms of life are born. Your mental pronunciation of viviparous and oviparous is likely to be incorrect—put your accent on the second (vip), not the third syllable of each word.

Ov comes of course from the Latin ovum, egg We hear it in oval, egg-shaped; and also in ovulation, the process of forming an egg, which human females in the child-bearing age do once a month.

3. more about life

The Latin noun vita, life, is found in:

1. vital—essential to life; of crucial importance—a vital matter

2. vitality—life and strength

3. vitamin—one of the many elements on which life is dependent. Good eyesight requires vitamin A, (found, for example, in carrots); strong bones need vitamin D (found in sunlight and cod-liver oils); et cetera

4. vitalize—to impart vigor or life to

5. devitalize—to rob of vigor or life

Both vitalize and devitalize are used figuratively—for example, a program or plan is vitalized or devitalized, according to how it’s handled.

4. French life

Sometimes, instead of getting our English words directly from Latin, we work through one of the Latin-derived or Romance languages. (The Romance languages—French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and Roumanian—are so called because they were originally dialects of the old Roman tongue imposed on Western Europe by Roman conquerors.) English, by the way, is not a Romance language, but a Teutonic one. Our tongue is a development of a German dialect imposed on the natives of Britain by the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes of early English history. Though we have taken over into English more than 50 per cent of Latin words and almost 30 per cent of Greek words, our basic language is nevertheless German.

The French, using the same Latin root vivere, to live, formed two expressive phrases much used in English. French pronunciation is, of course, tricky, and if you are not at least superficially acquainted with that language, I cannot in all honesty recommend that you use these phrases in speech, as your pronunciation of them may sound a little awkward to the sophisticated ear—but you should know what they mean. These phrases are:

1. joie de vivre—pronounced something like ZHWAHD VEEV (ZH is identical with the S of PLEASURE)

Literally joy of living, this phrase describes an immense delight in being alive, an effervescent keenness for all the daily activities that human beings indulge in. A person who possesses joie de vivre is never moody, depressed, bored, or apathetic—on the contrary, he is full of sparkle, eager to engage in all group activities, and, most important, always seems to be having a good time, no matter what he is doing. Joie de vivre is precisely the opposite of ennui (this is also a word of French origin, but is easy to pronounce: ON-wee), which is a feeling of boredom, discontent, or weariness resulting sometimes from having a jaded, over-sophisticated appetite, sometimes from just finding all of life tedious and unappetizing, and sometimes implying in addition physical lassitude and general inactivity. Young children and simple people rarely experience ennui—to them life is always exciting, always new.

2. bon vivant, pronounced something like BOE(ng) vee-VAH(ng)—(ng) being a special muted nasal sound that only someone who speaks French knows how to make. If you have not studied French, it’s futile even to try it.

A bon vivant is a person who lives luxuriously, especially in respect to rich food, good liquor, expensive theater parties, operas, and other accouterments of upper-class shenanigans. Bon vivant means, literally, a good liver; actually, a high liver. When you think of a bon vivant, you get the picture of someone attired in top hat, “soup and fish” or tuxedo, raising his cane to call a taxi while a beautiful evening-gowned and sophisticated-looking woman, sparkling in diamonds and furs, waits at his side. They’re going to a champagne and partridge supper at the Stork Club, et cetera, et cetera,—fill in your own details of the high life.

The bon vivant is of course a convivial person—and also likely to be a gourmand as well as very much visceratonic rather than cerebratonic or somatotonic.

5. food and how to enjoy it

The gourmand enjoys food with an almost sensual pleasure—to him the high spots of the day are the times for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and midnight supper. In short, he likes to eat, but the eating must be good. The verb form, gormandize, however, has suffered a degeneration in meaning—it signifies to stuff oneself like a pig.

A gourmand is significantly different from a gourmet, who has also a keen interest in food and liquor, but is much more fastidious, is more of a connoisseur, has a most discerning palate for delicate tastes, flavors, and differences; goes in for rare delicacies (like humming birds’ tongues and other such absurdities); and really approaches the whole business from a scientific, rather than sensual, viewpoint. Gourmet is always a complimentary term, gourmand somewhat less so.

The man who eats voraciously, with no discernment whatever, but merely for the purpose of stuffing himself (“I know I haven’t had enough to eat till I feel sick”), is called a glutton—obviously a highly derogatory term. The verb gluttonize is stronger than gormandize; the adjective gluttonous is about the strongest epithet you can apply to someone whose voracious eating habits you find repulsive. Gluttonous is sometimes also applied to a voracious, insatiable appetite for money, sex, punishment, et cetera.

USING THE WORDS: II

Working from the single word convivial, we have turned up twenty-six related words, and before we go on let’s check on your ability to pronounce, recall, understand, and use these words.

Can you pronounce the words?

1. conviviality

kon-VIV-ee-AL-i-tee

2. visceratonic

VISS-er-a-ton-ik

*3. cerebratonic

SER-a-bra-ton-ik

4. somatotonic

so-MAT-o-ton-ik

*5. vivacious

vye-VAY-shus

6. vivid

VIV-id

7. revive

re-VYVE

8. vivisection

viv-i-SECK-shun

9. antivivisectionist

AN-tee-viv-i-SECK-shun-ist

*10. viviparous

vi-VIPP-er-us

*11. oviparous

o-VIPP-er-us

12. ovulation

ov-you-LAY-shun

13. vital

VYE-t’l

14. vitality

vye-TAL-i-tee

15. vitamin

VYE-ta-min

16. vitalize

VYE-ta-lyze

17. devitalize

de-VYE-ta-lyze

*18. joie de vivre

ZHWAHD VEEV

*19. ennui

ON-wee

*20. bon vivant

BOE(ng) vee-VAH(ng)

*21. gourmand

GOOR-m’nd

*22. gourmet

goor-MAY

23. gormandize

GORE-min-dyze

24. glutton

GLUT-in

25. gluttonous

GLUT-in-us

26. gluttonize

GLUT-in-yze

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and meanings.

1. visceratonic

a. peppy

2. cerebratonic

b. bearing live young

3. somatotonic

c. strong, sharp

4. vivacious

d. “body-minded”

5. vivid

e. “stomach-minded”

6. viviparous

f. greedy

7. oviparous

g. bearing young in eggs

8. gluttonous

h. “brain-minded”

KEY: 1—e, 2—h, 3—d, 4—a, 5—c, 6—b, 7—g, 8—f

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. conviviality

a. ripening of the egg

2. vivisection

b. a “high liver”

3. antivivisectionist

c. experimentation on live animals

4. ovulation

d. one who is a connoisseur of good food

5. vitality

e. effervescence

6. joie de vivre

f. one who enjoys food

7. ennui

g. one who eats greedily

8. bon vivant

h. boredom

9. gourmand

i. congeniality

10. gourmet

j. strength, vigor

11. glutton

k. one who is against experimentation on live animals

KEY: 1—i, 2—c, 3—k, 4—a, 5—j, 6—e, 7—h, 8—b, 9—f, 10—d, 11—g

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. revive

a. rob of life or strength

2. vital

b. element necessary for life

3. vitalize

c. important, crucial

4. devitalize

d. stuff oneself like a pig

5. gluttonize

e. breathe life into

6. vitamin

f. bring back to life

KEY: 1—f, 2—c, 3—e, 4—a, 5—d, 6—b

Do you understand the words? (I)

Decide whether each pair of words is the same or opposite in meaning.

Do you understand the words? (II)

Are the following statements true or false?

Can you recall the words?

Now let’s choose some of the more difficult words from the list and ask you to write them next to their proper definitions.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: II

1. able demons

Indefatigable comes of course from the simple word fatigue—the in is a negative particle, the suffix able means able to be—hence, literally, indefatigable means unable to be fatigued. The noun is indefatigability.

Indefatigable presents a pronunciation hazard of the first magnitude—the temptation to accent the fourth syllable must be stoutly, manfully, and successfully resisted. Place all your emphasis on syllable three—FAT.

Thus: in-de-FAT-i-ga-b’l and in-de-FAT-i-ga-bil-i-tee.

There are a number of other words ending in -able which offer the same pronunciation hazards. These are:

1. lamentable

LAM-en-ta-b’l

2. comparable

KOM-per-a-b’l

3. hospitable

HOSS-pi-ta-b’l

4. preferable

PREF-er-a-b’l

5. amicable

AM-i-ka-b’l

6. formidable

FOR-mi-da-b’l

7. despicable

DESS-pi-ka-b’l

8. revocable

REV-o-ka-b’l

9. reparable

REP-er-a-b’l

10. admirable

AD-mir-a-b’l

These first-syllable-accent pronunciations are admittedly difficult if you’re not accustomed to them—but they’re worth practicing and cultivating, since they are used by sophisticated speakers.

2. how simple can one be?

Ingenuous is a complimentary term, though its synonyms naive, gullible, and credulous are faintly derogatory.

To call a person ingenuous implies that he is frank, open, artless—in other words, he is not likely to try to put anything over on you nor is he apt to hide feelings or thoughts that a more sophisticated person would consider it wise, tactful, or expedient to hide.

Ingenuous should not be confused with ingenious (note the slight difference in spelling), which on the contrary means shrewd, clever, inventive. Ingenious as a noun becomes ingenuity; ingenuous becomes ingenuousness.

To call a person naïve is to imply that he has not learned the ways of the world, and is therefore idealistic and trusting beyond the point of safety; such idealism and trust having come from ignorance and inexperience. The noun is naïveté. (Let me indicate the correct pronunciations at this point before you begin to form any bad habits—nah-EEV and nah-eev-TAY.)

Credulous implies a willingness to believe almost anything, no matter how fantastic. Such an attitude, like naïveté, usually results, again, from ignorance and inexperience.

Gullible means easily tricked, easily fooled, easily imposed on. It is stronger than credulous and is a more derogatory term. Gullibility results more from stupidity than from ignorance or inexperience.

These four synonyms, ingenuous, naïve, credulous, and gullible are fairly close, but they contain areas of distinction worth remembering. Let’s review them.

1. ingenuous—frank, not given to concealment

2. naïve—inexperienced, unsophisticated, trusting

3. credulous—willing to believe; not suspicious or skeptical

4. gullible—easily tricked

3. belief and disbelief

Credulous comes from the Latin credo, believe, the same root found in credit (if someone believes in your honesty, he will extend credit to you; he will credit what you say; et cetera). Ous is a suffix which usually signifies full of. So, strictly, credulous means full of believingness.

Do not confuse credulous with credible. In the latter word we see combined the root cred, believe, with ible, a suffix which means able to be. Something credible can be believed.

Let’s chart some differences;
a credulous listener—one who fully believes what he hears
a credible story—one that invites belief
an incredulous attitude—an attitude of skepticism
an incredible story—one that cannot be believed
an incredible character—a person who is so unique that you can scarcely believe that he exists

Nouns are formed as follows:

credulous—credulity
incredulous—incredulity
credible—credibility
incredible—incredibility

To check your understanding of these distinctions, try the next test.

Can you use these words correctly?

Use credulous, credible, or corresponding negative or noun forms in the following sentences:

1. She listened __________ly to her husband’s confession of his continuous infidelity, for she had always considered him a paragon of virtue.

2. He told his audience an __________ and fantastic story of his narrow escapes.

3. He’ll believe you—he’s very __________.

4. Make your characters more __________ if you want your reader to believe in them.

5. We listened dumb-struck, full of __________, to the shocking details of corruption and vice.

6. He has the most __________ good luck.

7. The __________ of it! How can such things happen?

8. In November of 1948, the Republicans listened to the national election returns, their __________ strained to the utmost.

9. “Do you believe me?” “Sure—your story is __________ enough.”

10. I’m not objecting to the total __________ of your story, but only to your thinking that I’m __________ enough to take it all in!

KEY: 1—incredulously, 1—incredible, 3—credulous, 4—credible, 5—incredulity, 6—incredible, 7—incredibility, 8—credulity, 9—credible, 10—incredibility, credulous.

4. what people believe in

Cred, the Latin root which means believe, is the origin of four other useful English words.

1. Credo—a. personal belief, a code of ethics, the principles by which someone guides his actions.

2. Creed—a close synonym of credo; in addition, a religious belief, such as Catholicism, Judaism, Protestantism, et cetera.

3. Credence—belief, as in “I place no credence in his stories,” or “Why should I give any credence to what you say?”

4. Credentials—a document or documents proving a person’s right to a title or privilege (i.e., a right to be believed) as in: “The new ambassador presented his credentials to the State Department.”

5. heads and tails

We can hardly close our book on the words suggested by ingenuous without looking at the other side of the coin. If ingenuous means frank, its opposite, disingenuous would mean not frank. But a disingenuous person is far more than simply a person who is not ingenuous. He is crafty, cunning, dishonest, artful, insincere, untrustworthy—and he is all of these while making a pretense of being simple, frank, and aboveboard. You are thinking of a wolf in sheep’s clothing? It’s a good analogy.

Similarly, a remark may be disingenuous, as may also a statement, an attitude, a confession, et cetera.

USING THE WORDS: III

Let’s pause for a moment now to work with the twenty-one new words we’ve turned up.

Can you pronounce the words?

1. indefatigability

in-de-FAT-i-ga-bil-i-tee

*2. ingenuousness

in-JEN-yoo-us-ness

3. ingenious

in-JEEN-yus

*4. ingenuity

in-je-NOO-i-tee

*5. naïve

nah-EEV

*6. naïveté

nah-eev-TAY

7. credulous

KREJ-yoo-lus

8. gullible

GULL-i-b’l

9. gullibility

gull-i-BILL-i-tee

10. incredulous

in-KREJ-yoo-lus

11. credible

KRED-i-b’l

12. incredible

in-KRED-i-b’l

13. credo

KREE-do

14. creed

KREED

*15. credence

KREE-dence

16. credentials

kre-DEN-shulz

17. disingenuous

diss-in-JEN-yoo-us

*18. credulity

kre-JOO-li-tee

*19. incredulity

in-kre-JOO-li-tee

20. credibility

kred-i-BILL-i-tee

21. incredibility

in-kred-i-BILL-i-tee

Can you work with the words? I

Match the definitions to the words.

Words

Definitions

1. indefatigability

a. cunning

2. ingenuousness

b. skepticism

3. disingenuousness

c. personal code of ethics

4. naïveté

d. frankness

5. credibility

e. belief, trust

6. incredulity

f. tirelessness

7. credence

g. believability

8. credo

h. inexperience

KEY: 1—f, 2—d, 3—a, 4—h, 5—g, 6—b, 7—e, 8—c

Can you work with the words? II

Words

Definitions

1. ingenious

a. easily tricked

2. credulous

b. religious belief

3. gullible

c. inexperienced, unworldly

4. incredible

d. document proving privileges, et cetera

5. creed

e. unbelievable

6. credentials

f. shrewdness

7. ingenuity

g. clever, inventive

8. naïve

h. willing to believe

KEY: 1—g, 2—h, 3—a, 4—e, 5—b, 6—d, 7—f, 8—c

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to each question.

Can you recall the words?

Now, without further reference to the twenty-one words of this section, it’s your job to write the proper one next to its definition. Be guided by the initial letter.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: III

1. how to look

The Latin verbs specto and specere, to look, have fathered a host of common English words; spectacle, spectator, inspect, retrospect (looking back), prospect (a looking ahead), et cetera. In a variant spelling spic, the root is found in conspicuous (easily seen or looked at), perspicacious and perspicuous.

A perspicacious person is keen-minded, mentally sharp, astute. A man of perspicacity is a man of keen intelligence, a person of acumen.

Perspicacious should not be confused with the similar word perspicuous. Here is the important distinction:

Perspicacious means smart, able to look at and understand quickly. This adjective applies to persons.

Perspicuous is the obverse side of the coin—it means easily understood from one look, and applies to writing, style, books, and like things that have to be understood. Hence it is a synonym of clear, simple, lucid. If a man writes with perspicuous style, he is easy to understand. If a man is perspicacious, he understands.

The noun form of perspicuous is perspicuity.

So the idea of looking may be represented by either spec or spic:

A spectacle is something to look at; spectacles (eyeglasses) are the means by which you get a comfortable and accurate look at the world.

A spectator is one who looks at what’s happening.

To inspect is to look into something.

Retrospect is a backward look—generally the word is preceded by the preposition in, for instance “His life in retrospect seemed dreary and dull,” or “Most experiences seem more enjoyable in retrospect than in actuality.”

Prospect is a forward look; prospective is the adjectival form. What’s the prospect for prosperity, for world peace, for better living conditions? Your prospective mother-in-law is the one you can look forward to having if you marry a certain person; similarly, your prospective bride, groom, child, job, vacation, et cetera.

Conspicuous means easily looked at, catching the eye.

A perspicacious person can look through something—he’s clever, ingenious, intelligent, sharp, et cetera. The noun is perspicacity.

Anything perspicuous can be looked through—hence it is clear, easily understood. The noun is perspicuity.

That reviews the words we’ve discussed. Now consider some others derived from the root spec, to look:

1. If you enjoy looking at yourself, figuratively speaking, then you like to examine your mental processes and emotional reactions, in the same intense way characteristic of the introvert (see Chapter 3). Your mind’s eye turns inward, and you spend a good deal of time analyzing yourself, your character, your personality, your actions. Hence, since you look inward, you are introspective. If you are told to introspect, you start to look inward and to examine your inner reactions. Too much introspection generally leads to unhappiness and sometimes to thoughts of suicide—few people have the courage or stamina to analyze themselves minutely. Adolescence is that confused period of a person’s life when he spends a good deal of time and energy in introspection.

During psychoanalysis, of course, you are constantly introspecting—but with the wise guidance and gentle interpretation of the analyst, your introspection helps you to a better understanding of your emotions.

2. There are times when you have to look around most carefully; you must then be circumspect—watchful, cautious, alert. (Circum, around, is the root we met in circumlocution.) The noun is circumspection.

3. If something looks good or sensible, but actually is not, we call it specious. A specious argument sounds plausible, but in reality is based on an error, a fallacy, or an untruth. The noun is speciousness.

2. minds and souls

Anima, in Latin, is the word for soul, spirit, breath of life. We find the root in animal, animate and inanimate, animated, and animation; knowing the meaning of the root, you have a better understanding of any word that contains it.

Magnanimous contains, in addition to anima, the root magna, large, great, which you will recall from magniloquent. A magnanimous person has such a great, noble, soul that he is beyond seeking petty revenge. The noun form is magnanimity.

On the other hand, someone who has a tiny, tiny, soul is pusillanimous—this word uses the Latin pusil, very small. Hence, he would be contemptibly petty and mean. The noun is pusillanimity.

Anima, by extension, means mind as well as soul. It is from this extended meaning of the root that we get the following interesting words:

1. unanimous—of one mind. If the Supreme Court hands down a unanimous opinion, all the judges were of one mind. Un is a shortened form of the Latin word unus, one. The noun form is unanimity.

2. equanimity—composure; literally, equal or balanced mind; evenness or calmness of mind. If you preserve your equanimity under trying circumstances, you keep your temper, you do not get confused, you remain calm.

3. animus—hostility, ill will, malevolence. Strictly, animus is simply mind, but has degenerated, as words often do, to mean unfriendly mind. The word is most often used in a pattern like this: “I bear you no animus, even though you have wronged me.”

4. animosity—ill will, hostility. An exact synonym of animus, and a more common word, it is used in patterns like: “You feel a good deal of animosity, don’t you?,” “There is real animosity between Bill and Ernie,” “If you bear me no animosity, why do you treat me so badly?”

3. ile demons

Versatile comes from a Latin verb to turn—a versatile person can turn his hand to many things successfully. The noun is of course versatility. The preferred pronunciation of versatile is VUR-sa-till, not VUR-sa-tyle. Most words of more than one syllable ending in -ile are preferably pronounced with a short i (ill), for example:

hostile

HOSS-till

juvenile

JOO-ve-nill

textile

TEX-till

fertile

FUR-till

sterile

STER-ill

docile

DOSS-ill

There are, however, a number of important exceptions. The following are preferably pronounced yle (long i, as in tie).

exile

EX-yle

senile

SEE-nyle

profile

PRO-fyle

infantile

IN-fin-tyle

reconcile

RECK-in-syle

bibliophile

BIB-lee-o-fyle

4. Zeno and the front porch

Almost 2300 years ago, in ancient Greece, the philosopher Zeno lectured on a topic which still piques the human mind, to wit: “How to Live a Happy Life.” Zeno would stand on a porch (the Greek word for which is stoa) and hold forth somewhat as follows: Men should free themselves from intense emotion, be unmoved by both joy and sorrow, and submit without complaint to unavoidable necessity. Today, Freudians preach almost the exact opposite—let your emotions flow freely, express your love or animosity, don’t bottle up your feelings. But in the fourth century B.C., when Zeno was expounding his credo, his philosophy of control of the passions fell on receptive ears. His followers were called Stoics, after the stoa, or porch, from which the master lectured.

If we call someone a stoic, we mean that he bears his pain or sorrow without complaint, he meets adversity with unflinching fortitude. This sounds very noble, you will admit—actually, according to modern psychological belief, it is healthier not to be so stoical. Stoicism may be an admirable virtue (mainly because we do not then have to share the stoic’s troubles), but it can be overdone.

5. fear and trembling

Intrepid (the accent belongs on the second syllable—in-TREP-id) comes from the Latin trepido, to be alarmed. The intrepid person exhibits courage and fearlessness when confronted by dangers from which you and I would run like hell. The noun is intrepidity (here the accent shifts to the third syllable: in-tre-PID-i-tee).

Trepido is found also in trepidation—great fear, trembling, alarm.

6. quick flash

Scintilla, in Latin, is a quick, bright, spark; in English the word may also mean a spark, but more commonly refers to a very small particle (which, in a sense, a spark is), as in the phrase, “there was not a scintilla of evidence against him.”

In the verb scintillate, the idea of the spark is kept; someone who scintillates sparkles with charm and wit, flashes brightly with humor. The noun is scintillation.

7. city and country

People who live in the city go to theaters, attend the opera, listen to concerts, take part in adult-education programs, visit museums and picture galleries, browse in book stores, shop at Macy’s, Marshall Field’s, or other big department stores, see radio and television broadcasts in the flesh, and can ride the trolley, bus, or subway to college. And they take a taxi from here to there when they are too lazy or too rich to walk. Evenings they spend in night clubs, listening to stale jokes and drinking fresh whiskey.

These activities fill them with culture and sophistication.

Also, they crowd into jammed subway trains and busses, squeeze into packed elevators, cross the street in competition with high-powered motor cars, patiently stand in line outside of movie houses, and then wait for hours in the lobby for the seats to be vacated. They have telephones, inside toilets, electric refrigerators, automatic washing machines, milk delivered to their door, and the relaxation of spending two hours a day going to and coming from work.

Such privileges and possessions fill them with polish, refinement, and courtesy.

On the other hand, what do people in the country have? Nothing but trees, flowers, good food, clean air, honest friendships, and long walks down wooded lanes. Hence they are narrow-minded, practically illiterate, completely unsophisticated, politically backward, and lamentably unenlightened—so it is claimed.

Now you understand why the drift of population has consistently been from the farms to the towns, from the towns to the big cities.

And you will also understand why the Latin words for city and country are used to describe entirely different species of mortals.

Urbs, for example, is the Latin word for city. An urbane person is, literally, a city dweller—hence, polished, refined, courteous, gracious, affable, cultivated, suave, sophisticated, tactful—add your own adjectives to describe any other qualities you deem admirable.

Rus and ruris are two forms of the Latin word for country. A rustic person is therefore awkward, boorish, lacking in refinement and polish.

Urbane and rustic, when applied to people, are emotionally charged words. Urbane is highly complimentary, rustic highly derogatory. The noun form of urbane is urbanity.

But each of these words has a neutral form. Urban means, simply, pertaining to the city; rural, pertaining to the country. And no moral judgment implied in either word. We speak, for instance, of the tensions of urban life as contrasted to the peacefulness of rural life; of urban communities and rural communities. (Suburban, of course, signifies near a city.)

The verb to rusticate has, also, a slightly derogatory implication—it means, strictly, to spend some time in the country, but since, as I have very patiently pointed out, there’s really nothing to do in the country, rusticate implies a departure from the excitement and nervous tensions of city life, hence, by extension, getting out of circulation, so to speak.

USING THE WORDS: IV

We have discussed thirty-four new words in the preceding section, every one of them useful, expressive, and well worth knowing. Remember that you can best master new words by using all possible means of experience with them—your mind, your eyes, your voice, your ears, your fingers. In the first test you let your voice (as you say the words aloud) and your ears (as you listen to yourself saying them) help you along the road to mastery.

Can you pronounce the words?

1. retrospect

RET-ro-spect

*2. astute

ass-TOOT

*3. perspicacity

pur-spi-KASS-i-tee

*4. acumen

a-KYOO-men

*5. perspicuous

pur-SPICK-yoo-us

*6. perspicuity

pur-spi-KYOO-i-tee

*7. magnanimity

mag-na-NIM-i-tee

*8. pusillanimous

pyoo-si-LAN-i-mus

*9. pusillanimity

pyoo-si-la-NIM-i-tee

10. unanimous

yoo-NAN-i-mus

*11. unanimity

yoo-na-NIM-i-tee

12. equanimity

ee-kwa-NIM-i-tee

13. animus

AN-i-mus

14. animosity

an-i-MOSS-i-tee

15. versatility

vur-sa-TILL-i-tee

16. stoic

STO-ic

*17. stoicism

STO-i-sizm

*18. intrepidity

in-tre-PID-i-tee

19. trepidation

trep-i-DAY-shun

*20. scintilla

sin-TILL-a

21. scintillate

SIN-ti-layt

22. scintillation

sin-ti-LAY-shun

*23. urbanity

ur-BAN-i-tee

24. rustic

RUSS-tick

25. rural

ROOR-il

26. urban

UR-ban†

27. rusticate

RUSS-ti-kayt

28. introspective

in-tro-SPEK-tiv

29. introspect

IN-tro-spekt

30. introspection

in-tro-SPEK-shun

31. circumspect

SUR-kum-spekt

32. circumspection

sur-kum-SPEK-shun

*33. specious

SPEE-shus

*34. speciousness

SPEE-shus-ness

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and definitions.

1. retrospect

a. complete agreement

2. acumen

b. pettiness

3. magnanimity

c. malevolence

4. pusillanimity

d. backward look

5. unanimity

e. calmness

6. equanimity

f. ability in many fields

7. animosity

g. mental keenness

8. versatility

h. generosity

KEY: 1—d, 2—g, 3—h, 4—b, 5—a, 6—e, 7—c, 8—f

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. stoicism

a. fearlessness

2. intrepidity

b. sparkle

3. trepidation

c. inward look

4. scintillation

d. uncomplaining attitude to pain or trouble

5. urbanity

e. falsity

6. introspection

f. polish, cultivation

7. circumspection

g. care, cautiousness

8. speciousness

h. fear

KEY: 1—d, 2—a, 3—h, 4—b, 5—f, 6—c, 7—g, 8—e

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. astute

a. of one mind

2. pusillanimous

b. ill will

3. unanimous

c. pertaining to the city

4. animus

d. petty

5. rustic

e. self-analytical

6. urban

f. sharp

7. introspective

g. cautious

8. circumspect

h. false

9. specious

i. countrified

KEY: 1—f, 2—d, 3—a, 4—b, 5—i, 6—c, 7—e, 8—g, 9—h

Can you work with the words? (IV)

1. perspicacity

a. clearness

2. perspicuity

b. to be witty

3. stoic

c. spend time in the country

4. scintilla

d. one who controls his emotions

5. scintillate

e. look inward

6. rural

f. a very small amount

7. rusticate

g. keen intelligence

8. introspect

h. clear, understandable

9. perspicuous

i. keen-minded

10. perspicacious

j. pertaining to the country

KEY: 1—g, 2—a, 3—d, 4—f, 5—b, 6—j, 7—c, 8—e, 9—h, 10—i

Do you understand the words? (I)

React to each question.

Do you understand the words? (II)

Do you understand the words? (III)

Do you understand the words? (IV)

Decide whether each pair is the same or opposite in meaning.

Can you recall the words? (I)

You used your mind when you read about these thirty-four words; your voice and ears and mind in the preceding tests; now you will again use your mind in remembering, and your fingers in writing, the words. Let the initial letters guide you in recalling each word for which a definition is given.

Can you recall the words? (II)

Can you recall the words? (III)

Can you recall the words? (IV)

Can you recall the words? (V)

Can you recall the words? (VI)

FIVE REVIEW TESTS

This has been a long, but I hope not a tedious, chapter. From a consideration of ten complimentary adjectives we have wandered far afield, discovering twelve important roots and many related and derived forms. To tie the whole business up neatly in a single package, try the following four tests of your success with this chapter. Review first, if you wish; or, if you feel particularly intrepid today, go right into the tests.

I. matching

WORD

MEANING

1. convivial

a. frank

2. indefatigable

b. noble, forgiving

3. ingenuous

c. unflinching

4. perspicacious

d. courteous

5. magnanimous

e. companionable, gregarious

6. versatile

f. witty

7. stoical

g. capable in many directions

8. intrepid

h. brave

9. scintillating

i. keen-minded

10. urbane

j. tireless

KEY: 1—e, 2—j, 3—a, 4—i, 5—b, 6—g, 7—c, 8—h, 9—f, 10—d

II. same or opposite?

III. changing parts of speech

Change these adjectives to nouns.

IV. roots

Fill in the meanings of the roots.

V. recognizing words

Check the word which most closely fits each definition.

1. Tireless:

(a) convivial, (b) indefatigable, (c) versatile

2. Frank, unsophisticated;

(a) ingenuous, (b) ingenious, (c) intrepid

3. Unflinching, uncomplaining:

(a) perspicacious, (b) urbane, (c) stoical

4. Noble, forgiving, generous:

(a) pusillanimous, (b) unanimous, (c) magnanimous

5. Brain-minded:

(a) cerebratonic, (b) somatotonic, (c) visceratonic

6. Giving birth to live young:

(a) oviparous, (b) ovulation, (c) viviparous

7. Tedium, boredom:

(a) ennui, (b) joie de vivre, (c) vitality

8. Connoisseur of choice food:

(a) gourmet, (b) gourmand, (c) glutton

9. Inexperienced in the ways of the world:

(a) credulous, (b) naïve, (c) credible

10. Easily tricked:

(a) gullible, (b) incredulous, (c) ingenious

11. Backward look:

(a) prospect, (b) retrospect, (c) introspection

12. Clearness:

(a) perspicacity, (b) perspicuity, (c) intrepidity

13. Resentment:

(a) animosity, (b) stoicism, (c) urbanity

14. Countrified:

(a) rustic, (b) specious, (c) circumspect

KEY: 1—b, 2—a, 3—c, 4—c, 5—a, 6—c, 7—a, 8—a, 9—b, 10—a, 11—b, 12—b, 13—a, 14—a

WORDS INFLUENCE YOUR THINKING

In the second week of our work together we have thoroughly explored over 270 valuable words and more than 40 important Greek and Latin roots.

As we went along we stopped at frequent intervals to check on the success of your learning and to give you opportunities to say aloud, think about, work with, and recall the words you were learning.

By now, therefore, the words in Week II are probably old friends of yours; they have started to influence your thinking, have perhaps begun to appear in your conversation, and have certainly become conspicuous in your reading. In short, they have been effective in making further changes in your intellectual climate.

Let us pause now for our periodic checkup of the success of your study. Directly after the next Brief Intermission you will find another Achievement Test. Take the test cold if you feel that all the material is at your fingertips; or spend a little time reviewing the chapters in Week II if you believe such review is necessary.

† a as in the last syllable of husband.

BRIEF INTERMISSION TEN
TRY THIS PRONUNCIATION TEST

Is your speech an asset or a liability? Does your pronunciation meet the standards set by educated people? In a phrase, do you pronounce your words correctly?

These are not easy questions to answer, but if you will give just ten minutes of your time to three short tests, you can determine whether you speak as effectively as you should.

TEST I—EASY

Your speech is free of illiterate patterns if you can check the correct form of at least seven of the following words.

1. aviator: AVV-ee-ay-ter or AY-vee-ay-ter?

2. athletic: ath-a-LET-ic or ath-LET-ic?

3. elm: ELL-um or ELM?

4. preferable: pre-FER-ab’l or PREFF-er-abl?

5. genuine: JEN-yoo-wyne or JEN-yoo-win?

6. grievous: GREE-vee-us or GREE-vus?

7. percolator: PER-kyo-lay-ter or PER-ko-lay-ter?

8. accessory: a-SESS-o-ry or ack-SESS-o-ry?

TEST II—HARD

Your speech is on the college-graduate level if you can check the correct form of at least seven of the following words.

1. grimace: gri-MAYCE or GRIM-iss?

2. impotent: IM-po-tent or im-PO-tent?

3. human: HYOO-man or YOO-man?

4. comparable: COM-per-ab’l or com-PAR-ab’l?

5. verbatim: ver-BAY-tim or ver-BAT-im?

6. orgy: OR-jee or OR-guee?

7. chiropodist: ki-ROP-o-dist or tchi-ROP-o-dist?

8. acumen: a-KYOO-men or ACK-yoo-men?

TEST III—VERY HARD

You rarely, if ever, make an error in pronunciation if you can check the correct form of seven or more of the following words.

1. ignominy: ig-NOM-i-ny or IG-no-mi-ny?

2. dishabille: DISH-a-bill or diss-a-BEEL?

3. piquant: pe-KAHNT or PEE-kint?

4. plethora: ple-THORE-a or PLETH-o-ra?

5. anathema: a-na-THEE-ma or a-NATH-e-ma?

6. vagary: VAY-ga-ry or va-GAIR-y?

7. combatant: com-BAT-ant or COM-ba-tant?

8. machinations: match-i-NAY-shunz or mack-i-NAY-shunz?

KEY: In Test I, all second choices are correct; in Test II, all first choices are correct; and in Test III, all second choices are correct.

13

HOW TO CHECK YOUR
SECOND WEEK’S PROGRESS

I—roots

Directions: In the table below you will find a number of roots we have discussed, with examples of their use. It is your job to fill in the meaning of each root.

II—more roots

Directions: Here are twenty words we have studied, each with its root italicized. In the appropriate blank write the meaning of that root.

III—same or opposite?

Directions: If each pair of words is similar in meaning, check S; if more nearly opposite, check O.

IV—true or false?

Directions: If the statement is factually accurate, check T; if factually inaccurate, check F.

V—matching

Directions: Choose the word from the second column which belongs to each function in the first column.

1. is lewd and lustful

a. chauvinist

2. caters to the rich

b. sycophant

3. is an accomplished musician

c. dilettante

4. sneers at traditions

d. iconoclast

5. is the mother-ruler of a family, tribe, or nation

e. lecher

6. has an irresistible urge to steal

f. tyro

7. is excessively patriotic

g. virtuoso

8. is a loud-mouthed woman

h. termagant

9. is a beginner

i. matriarch

10. is a dabbler

j. kleptomaniac

VI—more matching

Directions: As on test V.

1. does not know whether or not God exists

a. dipsomaniac

2. is a criminal

b. pyromaniac

3. is a connoisseur of good food

c. agnostic

4. sets fires for revenge

d. hypochondriac

5. meets adversity or pain without flinching

e. gourmet

6. walks in his sleep

f. stoic

7. is morbidly addicted to drink

g. malefactor

8. has imaginary ailments

h. somnambulist

9. cannot help setting fires

i. nymphomaniac

10. is a woman who is sexually insatiable

j. incendiary

VII—recall a word

Directions: Write the word we have studied that best fits each definition. The initial letter is offered to guide your thinking.

VIII—choose a word

Directions: Check the one word, of the three offered, which best fits each definition.

1. To predict, from the symptoms, the probable course of a disease: a. devitalize, b. diagnose, c. prognosticate.

2. tireless: a. indefatigable, b. versatile, c. scintillating.

3. polished, refined, suave: a. rustic, b. urbane, c. magnanimous

4. “stomach-minded”: a. cerebratonic, b. somatotonic, c. visceratonic.

5. giving birth to live young: a. viviparous, b. oviparous, c. ovulation.

6. boredom, lassitude: a. ennui, b. joie de vivre, c. vitality.

7. one who enjoys lots of good food: a. glutton, b. gourmand, c. bon vivant.

8. easily tricked: a. credulous, b. gullible, c. disingenuous.

9. keen-minded: a. perspicuous, b. perspicacious, c. pusillanimous.

10. fear and trembling: a. intrepidity, b. stoicism, c. trepidation.

IX—pronounce a word

Directions: Check the correct pronunciation.

1. implacable

a. im-PLAK-a-b’l
b. im-PLAY-ka-b’l

2. taciturn

a. TASS-i-tum
b. TACK-i-tum

3. colloquial

a. ko-LOE-kwee-il
b. ko-LOE-kee-il

4. somnolent

a. sum-NOE-lent
b. SOM-no-lent

5. sycophant

a. SYE-ko-fant
b. SICK-o-fint

6. virago

a. vi-RAY-go
b. VEER-a-go

7. dilettante

a. DILL-e-tant
b. dill-e-TAN-tee

8. uxoricide

a. uk-SOR-i-syde
b. yook-SOR-i-syde

9. megalomaniacal

a. MEG-a-lo-MAY-nee-a-k’l
b. meg-a-lo-ma-NYE-a-k’l

10. oviparous

a. o-VIP-er-us
b. o-vi-PAR-ous

X—change a word

Directions: Write the required part of speech.

SCORING

A perfect score is 110—one point for each correct response. Allowing some margin for error, and conceding that after all no one is perfect, I would call any score of 90 or better an indication of successful learning.

You might turn back for a moment to page 163, on which you recorded your score on the first week’s Achievement Test. Did you do better this time? Let’s make a record of both scores at this point for the sake of comparison and to give you a mark to shoot at in the Achievement Test which you will take at the end of the third week of your work.

First week’s Achievement Test: _________ out of 110

Second week’s Achievement Test: _________ out of 110

THIRD WEEK
FINISHING WITH A FEELING
OF COMPLETE SUCCESS

14

HOW TO TALK ABOUT
COMMON PHENOMENA AND
OCCURRENCES

TEASER PREVIEW

What word aptly describes?

• dire poverty?

• emotion experienced without direct participation?

• something which lasts a very short time?

• an inoffensive word for an unpleasant idea?

• light and easy banter?

• someone who is cowlike in his stolidity?

• homesickness?

• harsh sound?

• a meat-eating animal?

• something kept secret?

THIS WORLD, Robert Louis Stevenson once claimed—with, I think, questionable logic—is so full of a number of things that we should all be as happy as kings.

I doubt very strongly that happiness comes from the outside, or that kings are necessarily happy. But I will go this far (and no farther) with Stevenson: The world is certainly full of a number of things. For instance, poverty and misery, hospitals and insane asylums, slums and racial restrictions, cut-down forests and once fertile lands becoming progressively more arid, war and death and taxes and bumbling diplomats. I know that Stevenson had a different sort of thing in mind, for romantic poets tend to view the world through rose-tinted spectacles, but it is often necessary to counter one extreme with another—and I simply wish to set the record straight.

In this chapter we are going to discuss a number of things to be found in the world and in the minds of its inhabitants—poverty and wealth; second-hand emotions; the relativity of time; praise of various sorts; small talk and how to indulge in it; animals; longings for the past; sounds; eating habits; and many kinds and conditions of secrecy.

As you see, when you start exploring ideas, as we constantly do in these chapters, you never know what you’ll turn up.

IDEAS

1. for want of the green stuff

There are those people who are forced (often through no fault of their own) to pursue an existence not only devoid of such luxuries (radios, television sets, sunken bathtubs, electric orange-juice squeezers, automobiles, et cetera) as many of us take for granted, but lacking also in many of the pure necessities of living—sufficient protein in their diets (Southern share croppers who die of pellagra); sufficient food (inhabitants of India, who die of simple starvation); heated homes, hot water, clean surroundings, clothing (people on relief); et cetera.

Such people live in penury.

2. at least watch it

Every normal woman, no matter how unattractive, wants and needs love and romance—so say the psychologists. If no one will love her, and if she can find no one on whom to lavish her own love, she may often satisfy her emotional longings and needs by getting her feelings secondhand—through reading love stories and True Romances, listening to radio serials, attending motion pictures, et cetera.

Thus feelings that are denied to her through actual participations can be experienced secondhand.

These are vicarious feelings.

3. time is fleeting

During the late winter and early spring of 1948–49, great numbers of unstable people went practically berserk joining and forming “Pyramid Clubs.” If you have not heard of this amazing phenomenon, I won’t attempt to describe it in any of its multifarious ramifications, but the main point was that you paid two dollars, treated some people to coffee and doughnuts, and shortly thereafter (if you were gullible enough to fall for this get-rich-quick scheme) received a return of some fantastic amount like $2,064 for your investment.

For a short time, pyramid clubs were a rage—soon they had vanished from the American scene.

Anything which lasts for but a short time
and leaves no trace is ephemeral.

4. how not to call a spade . . .

Words are only symbols of things—they are not the things themselves. (This, by the way, is one of the basic tenets of semantics.) But many people identify the word and the thing so closely that they fear to use certain words that symbolize unpleasant (to them) things, lest they invite the full force of the things that the words symbolize.

I know that this is confusing, so let me illustrate.

Words having to do with death, sex, certain portions of the anatomy, venereal disease, cancer, et cetera are avoided by certain types of people.

These people prefer circumlocutions—words that mean or imply the same idea but don’t come right out and say so.

For example:

WORD

CIRCUMLOCUTION

die

breathe his last
depart this life
go to one’s maker

sexual intercourse

intimate relations

prostitute

lady of the evening
file de joie

syphilis, gonorrhea

social disease

rape

statutory crime
moral offense

buttocks

derrière
rear end

breasts

bosom
bust
curves

menstruation

unwell
period

toilet

powder room

cancer

wasting disease

brassière, panties, et cetera

unmentionables
intimate apparel

leg

limb

insane

odd
queer

feeble-minded

not bright

The left-hand column is the direct, non-pussyfooting, method of expressing an idea. The right-hand column is made up of
euphemisms.

5. small talk

“Whenever I’m in the dumps, I get me a new hat.”

“Oh, so that’s where you get them!”

.  .  .  .  .

“Lend me a nickel—I want to phone one of my friends.”

“Here’s a dime—call them all.”

.  .  .  .  .

These are examples of badinage.

6. everything but give milk

You’ve seen a cow contentedly munching its cud. Nothing seems capable of disturbing this animal—and the animal seems to want nothing more out of life than to lead a simple, vegetable existence.

Some people are like a cow—calm, patient, placid, phlegmatic, vegetablelike.

They are bovine.

7. good old days

Do you sometimes experience a keen, almost physical, longing for associations or places of the past?

When you pass the neighborhood in which you were born and where you spent your early years, do you have a sharp, funny reaction, almost akin to mild nausea?

When you are away from home and friends and family, do pleasant remembrances crowd in on your mind to the point where your present loneliness becomes almost unbearable, and you actually feel a little sick?

This common feeling is called nostalgia.

8. modern music

Some sounds are so harsh, grating, and discordant that they offend the ear. They lack all sweetness, harmony, pleasantness. Traffic noises of a big city, modern jazz rhythms, some of the works of Shostakovich or Stravinsky, the thunder of New York’s Third Avenue “El” . . . such are the blaring, ear-splitting, sounds to which I refer.

These are cacophonous.

9. eating habits

Lions, tigers, wolves, and other animals subsist entirely on flesh. No spinach, salad greens, whole-wheat cereals, sugar, or spices—just good, red meat.

They are carnivorous.

10. private and public

There are certain things you just naturally do in private, like taking a bath, for instance. Some people (not the visceratonic types, of course) like to engage in other activities in complete privacy—eating, reading, sleeping, for example.

The point is that, while these activities may be conducted in privacy, there is never any reason for keeping them secret.

But there are other activities which are kept not only private, but well-shrouded in secrecy and concealed from public gaze and information with the greatest of care. These are activities which are considered sinful, shameful, illegal, or unsafe—like having an affair with a married woman, betraying military secrets to the enemy, trading in narcotics, patronizing the black market, et cetera.

Arrangements, activities, or meetings that fall under this category are called clandestine.

USING THE WORDS: I

Can you pronounce the words?

1. penury

PEN-yoor-ee

2. vicarious

vye-KAIR-ee-us

*3. ephemeral

e-FEM-er-il

*4. euphemism

YOO-fe-mizm

*5. badinage

BAD-i-nidge

*6. bovine

BO-vyne

7. nostalgia

noss-TAL-ja

*8. cacophony

ka-KOFF-i-nee

*9. carnivorous

kar-NIV-er-us

*10. clandestine

klan-DESS-tin

Can you work with the words?

Match words and definitions.

WORD

DEFINITION

1. penury

a. impermanent

2. vicarious

b. banter

3. ephemeral

c. homesickness

4. euphemism

d. meat-eating

5. badinage

e. circumlocution

6. bovine

f. harsh noise

7. nostalgia

g. poverty

8. cacophony

h. secret

9. carnivorous

i. placid, stolid

10. clandestine

j. secondhand

KEY: 1—g, 2—j, 3—a, 4—e, 5—b, 6—i, 7—c, 8—f, 9—d, 10—h

Do you understand the words? (I)

React quickly to the following questions.

Do you understand the words? (II)

Is each pair of words similar or opposed in meaning.

(The new words used in this test will be discussed in later sections of this chapter.)

Can you recall the words?

Fill in the proper word for each definition.

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: I

1. money, and what it will buy

The modern world operates largely by means of a price structure—wealth and poverty are therefore words that indicate the possession, on one hand, or the lack, on the other, of money. Penury, from Latin penuria, want, is dire, abject poverty, complete lack of financial resources. It is one of the two strongest English words there are to denote absence of money. The adjective form, penurious, strangely enough, means not so much poverty-stricken as stingy, close-fisted, niggardly; so sparing in the use of money as to give the appearance of penury. Penurious is a synonym of parsimonious, but is much stronger in implication. A parsimonious person is stingy; a penurious person is twice as stingy. Penury, then, is poverty; penuriousness is stinginess, excessive frugality. The noun form of parsimonious is parsimony, which means niggardliness.

A somewhat milder word than penury for poverty (if you can imagine a mild degree of poverty) is indigence. The indigent person is not absolutely penniless—he is simply living in reduced circumstances, foregoing many creature comforts, forced to undergo the type of humiliating hardships that accompany a lack of sufficient funds.

On the other hand, a close synonym of penury, and one of equal strength, is destitution. The destitute person does not even have the means for mere subsistence—as such, he is perhaps on the verge of starvation; penury and destitution are not merely straitened circumstances—they are downright desperate circumstances.

To turn now to the brighter side of the picture, the possession of money, especially in increasing quantities, is expressed by affluence. An affluent person, a man of affluence, or one living in affluent circumstances is more than comfortable; in addition, there is the implication that his wealth is increasing, rather than decreasing (you know the old adage, the rich get richer, and the poor get children). A man who lives in affluence probably owns his own home, runs a big, new car, has a servant or two, belongs to an expensive golf club, and wears Hickey-Freeman suits.

A much stronger term is opulence, which not only implies much greater wealth than affluence but in addition suggests lavish expenditures and ostentatiously luxurious surroundings. A man of opulence owns not a house but an estate; drives only Cadillacs and Packards (owning at least one of each); has a corps of servants, including a major-domo; belongs to golf and yacht and country clubs; wears no suit that costs less than $250; and in general is only a few rungs under an Indian Maharajah. Opulent may describe people, surroundings, appointments, or the like.

2. doing and feeling

If you watch a furious athletic event, and you get tired, though the athletes expend all the energy—that’s vicarious fatigue.

If your friend goes on a bender, and as you watch him absorb one drink after another, you begin to feel giddy and stimulated, that’s vicarious intoxication.

If you watch a mother in a motion picture or dramatic play suffer horribly at the death of her child, and you go through the same agony, that’s vicarious torment.

You can experience an emotion, then, in two ways: first-hand, through actual participation; or vicariously, by becoming sympathetically involved in another person’s feelings.

Many people, for example, lead essentially dull and colorless lives. Through their children, through reading or attending the theater, however, they can experience all the emotions felt by others whose lives move along at a swift, exciting pace. These people live at second hand; they live vicariously.

There are many words in the English language whose full meanings cannot be expressed by any other combination of syllables. Vicarious is one of these words. Not to know the word, not to use it, is to be unable to express the ideas for which it stands.

3. time is relative

Elephants and turtles live almost forever; human beings have a life expectancy in general of fifty odd years (though the gradual conquest of disease is constantly lengthening our span); dogs live from seven to ten years; and some insects exist for only a day.

One such short-lived creature is the dayfly, which in Greek was called ephemera. Hence anything so short-lived, so unenduring that it scarcely seems to outlast the day, may be called ephemeral.

A synonym of ephemeral is evanescent, which means fleeting, staying for a remarkably short time, vanishing. Something delicate, intangible, like a feeling, may be called evanescent; it’s here, and before you can quite comprehend it, it’s gone—vanished.

The noun is evanescence, the verb is to evanesce.

The root esce often means beginning to. Thus:

adolescent—beginning to grow up
evanesce—begin to vanish
convalesce—begin to get well
putrescent—beginning to rot, becoming putrid

4. an exploration of various good things

A euphemism is a word or expression that has been substituted for another that is likely to offend—it comes from eu, Greek for good (which you recall from eugenics, discussed in an earlier chapter) and phem, Greek to say. Hence, it is a good, or inoffensive, saying. The adjective is euphemistic.

Eu, good, is found in a number of interesting words:

1. euphony—good sound, pleasant lilt or rhythm.

ADJECTIVE: euphonic or euphonious

2. eulogy—good speech; a formal speech of praise, usually delivered as a funeral oration

ADJECTIVE: eulogistic
VERB: to eulogize

3. euphoria—good feeling, a sense of mental buoyancy and physical well-being

ADJECTIVE: euphoric

4. euthanasia—good death; method of painless death inflicted on people suffering from incurable diseases—not legal in this country, but advocated by many doctors

5. exploration of modes of expression

Badinage is a half-teasing, nonmalicious, frivolous banter, intended to amuse rather than wound. Badinage has as a close synonym persiflage, which is a little more derisive, a trifle more indicative of contempt or mockery—but still totally unmalicious.

In line with badinage and persiflage (the former has been Anglicized in pronunciation; the latter still retains its Gallic flavor—PUR-si-flahzh, zh being the sound of the s in measure), there are four other forms of expression you should be familiar with: cliché, bromide, platitude, and anodyne.

A cliché is a pattern of words which was once new and fresh, but which now is so old, worn, and threadbare that only banal, unimaginative speakers and writers ever use it. Examples are: fast and furious; unsung heros; by leaps and bounds; conspicuous by its absence; green with envy; et cetera. The most devastating criticism you can make of a piece of writing is to say, “It is full of clichés.”; the most pointed insult of a man’s way of talking is, “He speaks in clichés.”

A bromide is any trite, dull, and probably fallacious remark which shows little evidence of original thinking, and which therefore convinces a listener of the total absence of perspicacity on the part of the speaker.

For instance, some cautious, dull-minded individual might warn you not to take a chance in these words: “Remember it’s better to be safe than sorry!”

Your sneering response might be: “Oh, that old bromide!”

A platitude is similar to a cliché or bromide, in that it is a dull, trite, hackneyed, unimaginative pattern of words—but, to add insult to injury (cliché), the speaker uses it with an air of novelty—as if he just made it up, and isn’t he the brilliant fellow! Such speakers are called platitudinous, and are the most boring, insufferable, and obnoxious people on earth—as you know if you’ve ever been stuck with one at a party.

An anodyne in the medical, literal sense, is a drug which allays pain without curing an illness, like aspirin or morphine. Figuratively, an anodyne is a statement made to allay someone’s fears or anxieties, not believed by the speaker, but intended to be believed by the listener. “Prosperity is just around the corner” was a popular anodyne of the 1930s.

USING THE WORDS: II

Can you pronounce the words?

*1. penurious

pe-NYOOR-ee-us

*2. penuriousness

pe-NYOOR-ee-us-ness

3. parsimonious

par-si-MO-nee-us

*4. parsimony

PAR-si-mo-nee

5. indigence

IN-di-jence

6. indigent

IN-di-jent

7. destitution

dess-ti-TOO-shun

8. destitute

DESS-ti-toot

*9. affluence

AFF-loo-ence

*10. affluent

AFF-loo-ent

*11. opulence

OP-yoo-lence

*12. opulent

OP-yoo-lent

13. vicarious

vye-KAIR-ee-us

14. evanescent

ev-a-NESS-ent

15. evanescence

ev-a-NESS-ence

16. evanesce

ev-a-NESS

*17. euphemistic

yoo-fe-MISS-tic

*18. euphony

YOO-fo-nee

*19. euphonic

yoo-FON-ik

*20. euphonious

yoo-FO-nee-us

21. eulogy

YOO-lo-jee

22. eulogistic

yoo-lo-JISS-tik

23. eulogize

YOO-lo-jyze

*24. euphoria

yoo-FOR-ee-a

*25. euphoric

yoo-FOR-ik

26. euthanasia

yoo-tha-NAY-zha (zh like the s in measure)

*27. persiflage

PUR-si-flahzh

*28. cliché

klee-SHAY

29. bromide

BRO-myde

*30. bromidic

bro-MID-ik

31. platitude

PLAT-i-tood

32. platitudinous

plat-i-TOO-din-us

*33. anodyne

AN-o-dyne

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and meanings.

1. penurious

a. poor

2. indigent

b. inoffensive

3. affluent

c. flat, trite

4. evanescent

d. feeling tiptop

5. euphemistic

e. wealthy

6. euphonious

f. pleasant in sound

7. euphoric

g. stingy

8. platitudinous

h. fleeting

KEY: 1—g, 2—a, 3—e, 4—h, 5—b, 6—f, 7—d, 8—c

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. parsimony

a. lavish luxury

2. destitution

b. painless death

3. opulence

c. pleasant sound

4. evanescence

d. trite remark

5. euphony

e. impermanence

6. euphoria

f. feeling of well-being

7. euthanasia

g. niggardliness

8. platitude

h. poverty

KEY: 1—g, 2—h, 3—a, 4—e, 5—c, 6—f, 7—b, 8—d

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. anodyne

a. light, teasing banter

2. bromide

b. tightfistedness

3. persiflage

c. statement intended to allay anxiety

4. eulogy

d. poverty, want

5. penuriousness

e. high, formal praise

6. indigence

f. wealth

7. affluence

g. trite statement

KEY: 1—c, 2—g, 3—a, 4—e, 5—b, 6—d, 7—f

Can you work with the words? (IV)

1. parsimonious

a. begin to vanish

2. destitute

b. stingy, frugal

3. opulent

c. highly praising

4. vicarious

d. hackneyed phrase

5. euphonic

e. ostentatiously wealthy

6. eulogistic

f. stilted in expression

7. evanesce

g. pleasant-sounding

8. eulogize

h. in want

9. bromidic

i. secondhand

10. cliché

j. praise

KEY: 1—b, 2—h, 3—e, 4—i, 5—g, 6—c, 7—a, 8—j, 9—f, 10—d

Do you understand the words? (I)

React quickly to these questions.

Do you understand the words? (II)

Do you understand the words? (III)

Can you recall the words?

Now that you have cudgeled your brain over these thirty-three related words, matching them to their meanings in four different tests, thinking about them, pronouncing them, and thereby becoming more and more familiar with them, you are ready to test your ability to recall them when short definitions are offered. Let the initial letter guide you. Your aim, of course, is to make a perfect score from beginning to end—do you think you can?

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: II

1. people are the craziest animals

Bovine, placid like a cow, stolid, patient, unexcitable, is built on the Latin word for ox or cow, bovis, plus the common ending ine. To call someone bovine is of course far from complimentary, for this adjective is considerably stronger than phlegmatic, and implies a certain mild contempt on the part of the speaker. A bovine person is somewhat like a vegetable: he eats and grows and lives, but apparently is lacking in any strong feelings.

Humans are often compared to other animals, as the following adjectives will show:

1. leonine—like a lion in appearance or temperament. John L. Lewis, with his bushy eyebrows and shock of gray hair, is often described as leonine, or as having a leonine countenance.

2. canine—like a dog. As a noun the word refers to the species to which dogs belong. Our canine teeth are similar to those of a dog.

3. feline—catlike. We may speak of feline grace; or (insultingly) of feline temperament when we mean that a woman is “catty.”

4. porcine—piglike.

5. vulpine—foxlike, in appearance or temperament. When applied to people, this adjective usually refers to a fox’s shrewdness.

6. ursine—bearlike.

These adjectives are all pronounced with a long final syllable—to rhyme with mine.

2. you can’t go home again

Nostalgia, which is built on the two Greek roots nostos, a return to home, and algia, pain (as in neuralgia), is a feeling you can’t ever understand until you’ve experienced it—and if you’re normal you have experienced it whenever some external stimulus has crowded your mind with scenes from an earlier day.

You know how life always seems much pleasanter in retrospect. Your conscious memory tends to store up the pleasant experiences of the past (the unpleasant experiences get buried in the unconscious—but these are the ones that can play havoc with your personality), and when you are lonely or unhappy you may begin to relive these pleasant occurrences. It is then you feel the emotional pain and longing which we call nostalgia.

The adjective is nostalgic, as in “Only Yesterday is a nostalgic account of life in America between the Great War and the Great Depression,” or “He feels nostalgic whenever he passes 138th Street and sees the house in which he grew up.”

3. soundings

Cacophony is itself a harsh-sounding word—and is the only one which exactly describes the unmusical, grating, ear-offending noises you are likely to hear in man-made surroundings: the subway, the streets of a big city, a steel mill, an automobile factory, et cetera. The adjective is cacophonous, the emphasis remaining on the second syllable—ka-KOFF-o-nus.

Cacophony combines the Greek roots kakos, had, and phone, sound.

Phone, sound, is found also in:

1. telephone—sound traveling from afar

2. euphony—pleasant sound

3. phonograph—writer of sound

4. saxophone—a musical instrument (hence sound) invented by Adolphe Sax

5. xylophone—a musical instrument which makes sounds come through wood

6. phonetics—the science of the sounds of language

4. the flesh and all

Carnivorous combines carnis, flesh, and vorare, to devour. A carnivorous animal or, as it is also called, a carnivore, is one whose main diet is meat.

Vorare, to devour, has given us three other words referring to eating habits:

1. herbivorous—subsisting on grains and grasses, as cows, deer, horses, and vegetarians.

2. omnivorous—eating everything, meat, grains, grasses, fish, insects, and anything else digestible. Naturally, the only species so indiscriminate in its eating habits is the human species. Omnivorous, which adds the Latin word omni, all, to vorare, to devour, is not restricted to food. An omnivorous reader is one who reads everything in great quantities (that is, he devours all kinds of reading matter). An omnivorous theatergoer or moviegoer may be described in similar terms.

3. voracious—literally devouring, means greedy, gluttonous, and may refer either to food or to any other habits. One may be a voracious eater, voracious reader, voracious in one’s pursuit of money, pleasure, et cetera. The noun is voracity.

The omni (all) of omnivorous builds certain other valuable words:

1. omnipotent—all-powerful, an adjective usually applied to God, or, by extension, to any ruler whose governing powers are unlimited.

2. omniscient—all-knowing (scio, to know, as in science); hence, infinitely wise.

3. omnipresent—present in all places at once. Fear was omnipresent in Europe during 1939. A synonym of omnipresent, with humorous tone, is ubiquitous, as in the phrase, the ubiquitous Good Humor Man, referring to the fact that he seems to be all over at the same time, ringing his little bells just when you wish Johnnie wouldn’t ask for ice cream, now that supper is almost ready.

4. omnibus—for all, including all, et cetera. In the shortened form bus we have a public vehicle for all who can pay; in a John Galsworthy omnibus we have a book containing all of Galsworthy’s works; in an omnibus legislative bill we have a bill containing all the miscellaneous provisions and appropriations left out of other bills.

Omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, and ubiquitous have noun forms as follows: omnipotence, omniscience, omnipresence, and ubiquitotisness.

To return to carnivorous, meat-eating: the root carnis, flesh, occurs in:

1. carnelian–a reddish color, the color of red flesh.

2. carnival—originally the season of merrymaking just before Lent, when people took a last fling before saying “Came Vale,” “Oh Flesh, farewell!” Now, of course, it may be a kind of circus or any kind of exuberant or riotous merrymaking.

3. carnal—most often found in phrases like carnal pleasures or carnal appetites, the word refers to pleasures or appetites of the flesh rather than of the spirit—hence, sensual, sexy, lecherous, et cetera.

(The noun carnality means indulgence of one’s sexual appetite.)

4. carnage—great destruction of life (that is, human flesh), as in war.

5. reincarnation—a return to another body (or flesh) after death; hence, a rebirth or reappearance. Believers in reincarnation stoutly maintain that one’s soul persists after it has fled the flesh, and eventually reappears in the body of a newborn infant. Some of us, according to this interesting and macabre philosophy, were once Napoleon, Alexander the Great, Cleopatra, et cetera.

6. incarnate—in the flesh If we refer to someone as the devil incarnate, we mean that here is the devil in the flesh. Or we may say that someone is evil incarnate, that is, the personification of evil, the quality of evil invested with human or bodily form. Watch your pronunciation of this word—say in-KAHR-nit.

5. dark secrets

Clandestine comes from clam, secretly (compare “shut up like a clam”) and implies secrecy or concealment in the working out of a plan which is evil or illegal. It is a close synonym of surreptitious, which means stealthy, sneaky, furtive, generally because of fear of detection. The two words cannot always, however, be used interchangeably.

We may speak of either clandestine or surreptitious meetings or arrangements; but usually only of clandestine plans and only of surreptitious movements or actions.

Clandestine has no noun form, only an adverb, clandestinely; surreptitious has both noun and adverb: surreptitiousness and surreptitiously.

USING THE WORDS: III

Can you pronounce the words?

*1. leonine

LEE-o-nyne

*2. canine

KAY-nyne

*3. feline

FEE-lyne

*4. porcine

POR-syne

*5. vulpine

VUL-pyne

*6. ursine

UR-syne

7. nostalgic

noss-TAL-jik

*8. cacophonous

ka-KOFF-o-nus

9. phonetics

fo-NET-iks

*10. carnivore

KAR-ni-vor

*11. herbivorous

hur-BIV-er-us

*12. omnivorous

om-NIV-er-us

13. voracious

vor-AY-shus

14. voracity

vor-ASS-i-tee

*15. omnipotent

om-NIP-o-tent

*16. omniscient

om-NISH-ent

*17. omnipresent

OM-nee-prez-ent

*18. ubiquitous

yoo-BIK-wi-tus

19. omnibus

OM-ni-bus

20. cornelian

kar-NEE-lyun

21. carnal

KAR-nl

22. carnality

kar-NAL-i-tee

23. carnage

KAR-nidge

24. surreptitious

sur-rep-TISH-us

25. reincarnation

REE-in-kahr-NAY-shun

*26. incarnate

in-KAHR-nit

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and definitions.

1. leonine

a. doglike

2. canine

b. greedy, devouring

3. feline

c. foxlike

4. porcine

d. all-powerful

5. vulpine

e. stealthy, clandestine

6. ursine

f. lionlike

7. voracious

g. all-knowing

8. omnipotent

h. bearlike

9. omniscient

i. catlike

10. surreptitious

j. piglike

KEY: 1—f, 2—a, 3—i, 4—j, 5—c, 6—h, 7—b, 8—d, 9—g, 10—e

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. nostalgic

a. harsh-sounding

2. cacophonous

b. eating everything

3. herbivorous

c. lewd, lecherous

4. omnivorous

d. found every where

5. ubiquitous

e. homesick

6. carnal

f. grass-eating

7. incarnate

g. in the flesh

KEY: 1—e, 2—a, 3—f, 4—b, 5—d, 6—c, 7—g

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. phonetics

a. universality

2. carnivore

b. a color

3. voracity

c. infinite power

4. omnipotence

d. furtiveness

5. omniscience

e. lechery

6. omnipresence

f. infinite wisdom

7. omnibus

g. science of sound

8. carnelian

h. slaughter

9. carnality

i. a collection of all things

10. carnage

j. greediness

11. surreptitiousness

k. meat eater

12. reincarnation

l. return to life in a new body

KEY: 1—g, 2—k, 3—j, 4—c, 5—f, 6—a, 7—i, 8—b, 9—e, 10—h, 11—d, 12—1

Do you understand the words? (I)

Are the following statements true or false?

Do you understand the words? (II)

Can you recall the words?

I—adverbs

II—nouns

III—adjectives

IV—more adjectives

Can you recall root-meanings?

Fill in the meaning of each root.

CHAPTER REVIEW

Can you recognize the words?

Check the word which most closely fits each definition.

1. Utter want:

(a) affluence, (b) opulence, (c) penury

2. Experienced secondhand:

(a) ephemeral, (b) vicarious, (c) evanescent

3. Inoffensive circumlocution:

(a) badinage, (b) persiflage, (c) euphemism

4. Homesick:

(a) nostalgic, (b) bromide, (c) clandestine

5. Meat-eating:

(a) herbivorous, (b) voracious, (c) carnivorous

6. Stingy:

(a) indigent, (b) parsimonious, (c) opulent

7. Extreme financial need:

(a) destitution, (b) affluence, (c) parsimony

8. Great and increasing wealth:

(a) penuriousness, (b) affluence, (c) opulence

9. Remaining for a short time:

(a) euphemistic, (b) evanescent, (c) eulogistic

10. Sweet-sounding:

(a) euphonious, (b) cacophonous, (c) euphoric

11. Highly praise:

(a) evanesce, (b) eulogize, (c) disparage

12. Sense of physical well-being:

(a) euthanasia, (b) euphoria, (c) persiflage

13. Hackneyed expression:

(a) anodyne, (b) badinage, (c) cliché

14. Catlike:

(a) leonine, (b) feline, (c) canine

15. Bearlike:

(a) vulpine, (b) ursine, (c) porcine

16. All-knowing:

(a) omnipotent, (b) omniscient, (c) omnipresent

17. Found everywhere:

(a) ubiquitous, (b) omnivorous, (c) omnibus

18. Destruction:

(a) carnage, (b) carnality, (c) reincarnation

19. Stealthy:

(a) voracious, (b) surreptitious, (c) incarnate

KEY: 1—c, 2—b, 3—c, 4—a, 5—c, 6—b, 7—a, 8—b, 9—b, 10—a, 11—b, 12—b, 13—c, 14—b, 15—b, 16—b, 17—a, 18—a, 19—b

GETTING USED TO NEW WORDS

Reference has been made, in previous chapters, to the intimate relationship between reading and vocabulary building. Good books and the better magazines will not only acquaint you with a host of new ideas (and, therefore, new words, since every word is the verbalization of an idea), but also will help you gain a more complete and a richer understanding of the hundreds of words you are learning through your work in this book. If you have been doing a sufficient amount of stimulating reading—and that means, at minimum, several magazines a week and at least three books of nonfiction a month—you have been meeting, constantly, over and over again, the new words you have been learning in these pages. Every such encounter is like seeing an old friend in a new place. You know how much better you understand your friends when you have a chance to see them react to new situations; similarly, you will gain a much deeper understanding of the friends you have been making among words as you see them in different contexts and in different places.

My recommendations in the past have been of nonfiction titles, but novels too are a rich source of additions to your vocabulary—provided you stay alert to the new words you will inevitably meet in reading novels.

The natural temptation, when you encounter a brand new word in a novel, is to ignore it—the lines of the plot are perfectly clear even if many of the author’s words are not. (For example, Harold Bell Wright’s novels were at one time extremely popular, especially among the less cultivated types of readers. Yet, paradoxically, Wright’s vocabulary was often quite erudite, sometimes even abstruse—however, his ideas were so simple and obvious that his readers enjoyed his works despite the vocabulary obstacles.)

I want to counsel strongly that you resist the temptation to ignore the unfamiliar words you may meet in your novel reading: resist it with every ounce of your energy, for only by such resistance can you keep building your vocabulary as you read.

What should you do? Don’t rush to a dictionary, don’t bother underlining the word, don’t keep long lists of words that you will eventually look up en masse—these activities are likely to become painful and you will not continue them for any great length of time.

Instead, do something quite simple—and very effective.

When you meet a new word, underline it with a mental pencil. That is, pause for a second and attempt to figure out its meaning from its use in the sentence or from its etymological root, if it contains one you have studied. Make a mental note of it, say it aloud once or twice—and then go on reading.

That’s all there is to it. What you are doing, of course, is developing the same type of mind-set toward the new word that you have developed toward the words you have studied in this book. And the results, of course, will be the same—you will begin to notice the word occurring again and again in other reading you do, and finally, having seen it in a number of varying contexts, you will begin to get enough of its connotation and flavor to come to a fairly accurate understanding of its meaning. By this means you will be developing alertness not only to the words you have consciously studied in this book, but to all expressive and meaningful words. And your vocabulary will keep growing.

But of course that will happen only if you keep reading. Therefore, to get you started, I should like to suggest a number of novels which I have particularly enjoyed and which you too may find rewarding.

RECOMMENDED NOVELS

1. Of Human Bondage, by W. Somerset Maugham (Double-day).

2. Lust for Life, by Irving Stone (Longmans, Green).

3. Never Love a Stranger, by Harold Robbins (Knopf).

4. Night and the City, by Gerald Kersh (World).

5. Song of the Flea, by Gerald Kersh (Doubleday).

6. Success, by Lion Feuchtwanger (Viking).

7. Ethan Frome, by Edith Wharton (Scribner).

8. Giants in the Earth, by O. E. Rolvaag (Harper).

9. Hunger, by Knut Hamsun (Knopf).

10. H. M. Pulham, Esquire, by John P. Marquand (Little, Brown).

11. The Lost Weekend, by Charles Jackson (Farrar & Rinehart).

12. Hold Autumn in Your Hand, by George Sessions Perry (Viking).

13. The Store, by T. S. Stribling (Garden City Pub. Co.).

14. Arrival and Departure, by Arthur Koestler (Macmillan).

BRIEF INTERMISSION ELEVEN:
TAKE THIS SPELLING TEST

Even in the most painstakingly edited of magazines, a silly little misspelling of a perfectly common word will occasionally appear. How the error eluded the collective and watchful eyes of the editor, the associate editor, the assistant editor, the typesetter and the proofreader, no one will ever know—for practically every reader of the magazine spots it at once and writes an indignant letter, beginning: “Didn’t you ever go to school . . . ?”

Even if you went to school, you’re going to have plenty of trouble spotting the one misspelled word in each group below. And not one of these words will be a demon like sphygmomanometer (a device for measuring blood pressure) or piccalilli (a highly seasoned relish), which no one in his right mind would ever dare spell without first checking with a dictionary. On the contrary, every word will be of the common or garden variety which you might use every day in your social or business correspondence.

Nevertheless, you’re letting yourself in for ten minutes of real trouble, for you will be working with fifty particularly difficult spelling words. So put on your thinking cap before you begin.

A half dozen high-school teachers who took this test were able to make an average score of only five proper choices. Can you do better? Six or seven right is very good, eight or nine right is excellent, and 100-per cent success marks you as an absolute expert in English spelling.

Directions: Check the only misspelled word in each group.

A: 1—surprise, 2—disappear, 3—innoculate, 4—description, 5—recommend

B: 1—privilege, 2—separate, 3—incidentally, 4—dissipate, 5—occurence

C: 1—analize, 2—argument, 3—assistant, 4—comparative, 5—truly

D: 1—grammar, 2—drunkeness, 3—parallel, 4—sacrilegious, 5—conscience

E: 1—precede, 2—exceed, 3—accede, 4—procede, 5—concede

F: 1—pronunciation, 2—noticable, 3—desirable, 4—holiday, 5—anoint

G: 1—wierd, 2—seize, 3—achieve, 4—receive, 5—leisure

H: 1—superintendent, 2—persistent, 3—resistant, 4—insistent, 5—preseverence

I: 1—accessible, 2—permissible, 3—inimitable, 4—irresistable, 5—irritable

J: 1—pursue, 2—pastime, 3—kidnaped, 4—rhythmical, 5—exhillarate

KEY: A—3, B—5, C—1, D—2, E—4, F—2, G—1, H—5, I—4, J—5

15

HOW TO TALK
ABOUT EVERYDAY ATTITUDES

TEASER PREVIEW

What verb, ending in -ate, means:

WORDS are symbols of ideas—and we have been learning, discussing, and working with words as they revolve around certain basic concepts.

Starting with an idea (personality types, doctors, occupations, science, lying, actions, speech, insults, compliments, et cetera), we have explored the meanings and uses of ten basic words; then, working from each word, we have wandered off toward any idea which that word might have suggested.

By this natural and logical method, we have been able to make meaningful and lasting contact with fifty to a hundred words in each chapter. And I have proved to you, I think, that while five isolated words may be difficult to learn in one day, fifty to a hundred related words are easy to learn in a single sitting.

Now that we are approaching the end of our work together, I am going to offer a change of pace and conclusive proof that so long as there is some relationship between words, no matter how slight, no matter how tenuous (this expressive word—tenuous—will be discussed in Chapter 17), words can be learned in practically wholesale quantities.

In this chapter we shall discuss words which are related only by the ending- ate—this being as slight and tenuous a relationship as I can think of.

And yet, since some relationship will exist, you will find your learning as effortless and pleasant as it was when a much more basic relationship existed—the relationship of ideas and meaning.

We shall still, of course, learn our new words as expressions of ideas—that is the only sensible, lasting method.

IDEAS, ORIGINS, AND RELATED WORDS

1. complete exhaustion

You have stayed up all night—but literally all night. And what were you doing? Playing poker, a very pleasant way of whiling away time? No. Making love to your favorite girl–or boy–friend, an even pleasanter way? No. Engaging in some creative activity, like writing a short story, planning a military campaign, discussing fascinating questions with stimulating friends? No.

The examples I have offered are exciting, stimulating—and as psychologists have discovered, it is not work or effort that causes fatigue, but boredom, ennui, tedium, dissatisfaction, frustration, and other similar feelings.

You have stayed up all night with a very sick husband, wife, child, or dear friend. And despite all your ministrations, the patient is sinking. You can see how this long vigil contains all the elements of monotony, loneliness, frustration, et cetera which contribute to mental, physical, and nervous fatigue.

And so you are bushed—but completely bushed. Your exhaustion is mental, it is physiological, it is emotional.

One verb, ending in -ate, describes the reaction on you of your night’s activity.

to enervate

NOUN: enervation

ADJECTIVE: enervated, enervating

APPLICATION: He was enervated by his tour of duty. He had never felt such enervation before. An enervating experience.

DERIVATION: Latin, enervis, weak. No relation to energy, despite the similar sound.

2. tongue-lashing

You may recall Clendennin J. Ryan and the celebrated New York wire-tapping investigation of 1949.

Ryan, heir to the Thomas Fortune Ryan millions, lashed out at the O’Dwyer administration with a fierceness such as had rarely been equaled in the civic affairs of our most exciting city. The rebuke was public, bitter, uninhibited.

Or you recall when Harry Truman, running for re-election in 1948, stumped the country, attacking in no mild or equivocal terms the “do-nothing” Eightieth Congress. Truman, like Ryan, pulled no punches—his censure had a sting which his victims will long remember, as will the Republicans.

One verb, ending in -ate, describes the severe, public, tongue-lashing administered by Ryan and Truman.

to castigate

NOUN: castigation

ADJECTIVE: castigating

APPLICATION: Truman’s castigation of the Eightieth Congress.
Ryan’s castigating attacks on O’Dwyer.
He castigated his opponents.

DERIVATION: Latin, castigate, to correct.

3. altruistic

Phyllis is selfless and self-sacrificing to an astonishing and abnormal degree. Her husband’s desires are of paramount importance, even when they conflict with her own. Clothes for her two daughters are her first concern—even if she has to wear a seven-year-old coat and outmoded dresses so that Paula and Evelyn can look smart and trim. At the dinner table, she heap’s everyone’s plate—and herself often goes without; but seeing her family well-fed is better nourishment than meat and potatoes. She will deny herself, will scrimp and save and walk blocks out of her way if she can buy for a few pennies less—all to the end that she may offer her husband and children the luxuries to which she has accustomed them.

What verb, ending in -ate, accurately describes Phyllis’s attitude?

to self-abnegate

NOUN: self-abnegation

ADJECTIVE: self-abnegating

APPLICATION: a self-abnegating attitude.
Extreme self-abnegation.

DERIVATION: Latin, negare, to deny

RELATED WORDS: negative, negation

4. repetition

You have delivered a long, complicated, lecture to your class, and now, to make sure that they will remember the important points, you restate the key ideas, the main thoughts. You offer, in short, a kind of brief summary, step by step, omitting all extraneous details.

One verb, ending in -ate, best describes what you are doing.

to recapitulate

NOUN: recapitulation

ADJECTIVE: recapitulatory

APPLICATION: Let me recapitulate. . . .
I think we’ll need some recapitulation.

DERIVATION: Latin, re, again, plus capitulum, a small chapter heading, from caput, head

RELATED WORDS: Capital, decapitate, captain. The capital is the seat of the head of the government; to decapitate is to behead; a captain is the head of a group.

5. no joie de vivre

Perhaps you wake up some gloomy Monday morning (why is it that Monday is always the worst day of the week?) and begin to think of the waste of the last five years. Intellectually, there has been no progress—you’ve read scarcely half a dozen books, haven’t made one new, exciting friend, haven’t had a startling or unusual thought. Economically, things are no better—same old debts to meet, same old hundred dollars in the bank, same old job, same old routine of the eight-five to work, the tuna-fish or chicken-salad sandwich for lunch, the five-sixteen back home. What a life! No change, nothing but routine, sameness, monotony—and for what? (By now you’d better get up—this type of thinking never gets you anywhere, as you’ve long since learned.)

One verb, ending in -ate, describes how you’ve lived for the past five years.

to vegetate

NOUN AND ADJECTIVE: vegetating

APPLICATION: What a vegetating existence! I’m just vegetating.
What have you done besides vegetate?

DERIVATION: Latin vegetare, to grow, to live. To vegetate is to lead a passive existence, to do little but eat and grow, to be like a vegetable.

RELATED WORDS: vegetable, vegetation, et cetera

6. pretense

Your neighbor, Mrs. Brown, comes in to tell you of her latest troubles with (a) her milkman, (b) her maid, (c) her husband, (d) her children, and/or (e) her masseuse.

Since Florence Brown is dull to the point of ennui, and anyway you have a pile of ironing you were planning to light into, you find it difficult to concentrate on what she is saying. However, you do not wish to offend her by sending her packing, or even by appearing to be uninterested, so you pretend rapt attention, nodding vacantly at what you hope are the right places.

One verb, ending in -ate, accurately describes this feigning of interest.

to simulate

ADJECTIVE: simulated

NOUN: simulation

APPLICATION: Simulated (i.e., not real) pearls; he simulated interest; he decided on a simulation of insanity so that the draft board would reject him.

DERIVATION: Latin, similis, like, similar

RELATED WORDS: similar, dissimilar, et cetera

7. suggestion, no more

You are an author and are discussing with your publisher the possible avenues of publicity and advertising for your new book. At one point in the conversation the publisher makes several statements which might—or might not—be construed to mean that he is going to allocate some big money for an ambitious advertising campaign. (He may have said, “If we could get some money to put behind this, we might sell a few copies,” or “I wonder if it’s the type of book which would respond well to a few full pages . . . , might or mightn’t. . . .” You see, publishers are a canny, hard-bitten lot, and never make a direct statement, no matter how hard you push them.)

One verb, ending in -ate, expressively describes this delicate, indirect act of hinting.

to intimate

NOUN: intimation

APPLICATION: He intimated that he had discovered your infidelity.
We looked for an intimation of his feelings.

DERIVATION: Latin, intimus, inmost, an intimation being an expression of an innermost thought

8. helpful

Aspirin doesn’t cure anything—at least not so far as I know. Yet this popular and inexpensive drug (in some stores you can buy a hundred tablets for as little as nine cents) is used to soften and relieve various unpleasant symptoms such as pain, fever, et cetera.

One verb, ending in -ate, means to lighten or lessen physical or mental discomfort.

to alleviate

NOUN: alleviation

ADJECTIVE: alleviating

APPLICATIONS: This medicine will alleviate your pain; What measures of alleviation shall we take?; What can I say to alleviate your anxiety?

DERIVATION: Latin, levis, light

RELATED WORDS: levity, lightness, lack of seriousness levitation, lifting bodies off the ground, as in demonstrations of magic

9. when the bell tolls

John Donne’s lines (made famous by Ernest Hemingway):

No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.

are truer than you may think; any mortal who can view another’s suffering with complete composure is denying himself a taste of genuine emotion.

When someone has suffered a bereavement (as through death); when he has lost his job and may not be able to find another; when he has been wounded by life or by friends; then is the time he most needs to feel that he is not alone, that you share his misery with him even if you cannot directly alleviate his sadness. Your sympathy and sharing of emotion are, of course, alleviation enough.

One verb ending in -ate, signifies this vicarious sharing of the emotion of sorrow with someone who directly suffers.

to commiserate (with)

NOUN: commiseration

ADJECTIVE: commiserating

APPLICATIONS: I have come to commiserate with you on your loss.
As a token of my deep commiseration . . . ; if you’re looking for commiseration . . . ; in commiserating tones.

DERIVATION: Latin, miser, miserable, wretched. When you commiserate with someone, you are saying, in effect, “I am as miserable as you, even though it didn’t happen to me.”

RELATED WORDS: Miser, miserable, misery, et cetera

10. when two men propose

Should you marry John or George? John is handsome, virile, tender; George is stable, a good provider. George loves you deeply; John is more exciting. You decide on John, naturally.

But, wait—marrying John would mean continuing to work after marriage. With George, you could begin to enjoy life. So you change your mind—it’s George, on more mature reflection.

But how happy can you be with a husband who is not exciting? Maybe John would be best after all . . .

The pendulum swings back and forth all night—you cannot make up your mind and stick to it. (You fail to realize that your indecision proves that you’re not really ready to marry either man.) First it’s one, then it’s back to the other, then back to one . . . et cetera.

One verb, ending in -ate, best describes your indecision.

to vacillate

NOUN: vacillation

ADJECTIVE: vacillating

APPLICATION: A victim of her own vacillation; she vacillates between yes and no; a vacillating state of mind.

DERIVATION: Latin vacillare, move to and fro

USING THE WORDS

To recapitulate, these are the ten words we have discussed:

1. enervate—exhaust completely, deprive of force, vigor, strength

2. castigate—censure severely and publicly; tongue-lash

3. self-abnegate—suppress one’s ego; deny oneself; be excessively self-sacrificing

4. recapitulate—repeat the main ideas of; summarize

5. vegetate—stagnate intellectually; lead a routine, monotonous existence; do little more than eat and grow

6. simulate—make a pretense of; assume the appearance or characteristics by imitation

7. intimate—hint at most indirectly

8. alleviate—lessen or lighten physical or mental discomfort

9. commiserate—express one’s sympathy; show one’s feeling of sharing another’s unhappiness

10. vacillate—waver mentally; be unable to come to a definite decision

The lengthy explanations of the ideas behind the words of this chapter plus the recapitulation of their definitions has helped you, I submit, to learn them fully and quickly. The tests to follow will set them firmly in your mind and therefore aid you to retain them in your memory.

Can you pronounce the words?

1. enervate

EN-er-vayt

2. castigate

KASS-ti-gayt

*3. self-abnegate

SELF-AB-ne-gayt

*4. recapitulate

re-ka-PICH-yoo-layt

5. vegetate

VEDGE-e-tayt

*6. simulate

SIMM-yoo-layt

*7. intimate

IN-ti-mayt

8. alleviate

a-LEE-vee-ayt

*9. commiserate

ko-MIZZ-er-ayt

10. vacillate

VASS-i-layt

Can you work with the words?

Match words and definitions.

1. enervation

a. ego denial

2. castigation

b. stagnation

3. self-abnegation

c. suggestion

4. recapitulation

d. sympathy

5. vegetating

e. wavering

6. simulation

f. exhaustion

7. intimation

g. lessening

8. alleviation

h. summary

9. commiseration

i. pretense

10. vacillation

j. censure

KEY: 1—f, 2—j, 3—a, 4—h, 5—b, 6—i, 7—c, 8—g, 9—d, 10—e

Do you understand the words? (I)

React quickly to the following questions.

Do you understand the words? (II)

Decide whether each pair of words is similar or opposite in meaning.

Can you recall the words?

Write the word that fits each definition.

PICKING YOUR FRIENDS’ BRAINS

You can build your vocabulary, I have said, by increasing your familiarity with new ideas and by becoming alert to the new words you will meet in your reading of magazines and books.

There is still another productive method, one that will be particularly applicable in view of all the new words you are learning from your study of these pages.

That method, to put it somewhat inelegantly, is picking your friends’ brains.

I have noticed that every intelligent person is interested in words, probably (though he may not consciously realize it) because words are symbols of ideas and the man with an alert mind is always interested in ideas.

You may be amazed, if you have never tried it, to find that you can stir up an animated discussion by asking, in a social group that you attend, “What does__________mean?” (Use any word that particularly fascinates you.) Someone in the group is likely to know, and almost everyone will be willing to make a guess. From that point on, others in the group will ask questions about their own favorite words (most people do have favorites) or about words which they themselves have in some manner recently learned. As the discussion continues along these lines, you will be introduced to new words yourself, and if your friends have fairly good vocabularies you may strike a rich vein of pay dirt (to use an interesting metaphor) and come away with a large number of words to add to your vocabulary.

This method of picking your friends’ brains is particularly fruitful because you will be learning not from a page of print (as in this book or as in your other reading) but from real live persons—the same sources that children use to increase their vocabularies at such prodigious rates. No learning is quite as effective as the learning that comes from other people—no information in print can ever be as vivid as information which comes from another human being. And so the words you pick up from your friends will have an amazingly strong appeal, will make a lasting impression on your mind.

Needless to say, your own rich vocabulary, now that you have come this far in the book, will make it possible for you to contribute to your friends’ vocabulary as much as, if not more than, you take away—but since giving of oneself is one of the greatest sources of true happiness, you can hardly complain about this extra dividend.

BRIEF INTERMISSION TWELVE
HOW TO SPELL A WORD

The spelling of English words is archaic, it’s confusing, it’s needlessly complicated, and, if you have a sense of humor, it’s downright comical. In fact, any insulting epithet you might wish to level against our weird methods of putting letters together to form words would probably be justified—but it’s our spelling, and we’re stuck with it.

How completely stuck we are is illustrated by a somewhat ludicrous event that goes back to 1906, and which cost philanthropist Andrew Carnegie $75,000.

Working under a five-year grant of funds from Carnegie, and headed by the esteemed scholar Brander Matthews, the Simplified Spelling Board published in that year a number of recommendations for bringing some small semblance of order out of the great chaos of English spelling. Their suggestions affected a mere 300 words out of the half million then in the language. Here are a few examples, to give you a general idea:

SPELLING THEN CURRENT

SIMPLIFIED SPELLING

mediaeval

medieval

doubt

dout

debtor

dettor

head

hed

though

tho

through

thru

laugh

laf

tough

tuf

knife

nife

theatre

theater

centre

center

phantom

fantom

These revisions seemed eminently sensible to no less a personage than the President of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt. So delighted was he with the new garb in which these 300 words could be clothed that he immediately ordered that all government documents be printed in simplified spelling. And the result? Such a howl went up from the good citizens of the republic, from the nation’s editors and schoolteachers and businessmen, that the issue was finally debated in the halls of Congress. Almost to a man, senators and representatives stood opposed to the plan. Teddy Roosevelt, as you have doubtless heard, was a stubborn fellow—but when Congress threatened to hold up the White House stationery appropriation unless the President backed down, Teddy rescinded the order. Roosevelt ran for re-election some time later, and lost. That his attitude toward spelling contributed to his defeat is of course highly doubtful—nevertheless an opposition New York newspaper, the day the returns were in, maliciously commented on the outgoing incumbent in a one-word, simplified-spelling, editorial: “THRU!”

Roosevelt was not the first president to be justifiably outraged by our ridiculous orthography. About one hundred years ago, when Andrew Jackson was twitted on his poor spelling, he is supposed to have made this characteristic reply, “Well, Sir, it is a damned poor mind that cannot think of more than one way to spell a word!” And according to one apocryphal version, it was Jackson’s odd spelling which gave birth to the expression “O.K.” Jackson thought, so goes the story, that “all correct” was spelled “orl korrect,” and he used O.K. as the abbreviation for these words when he approved state papers.

In more recent times, the British playwright George Bernard Shaw offered a dramatic proposal for reducing wartime England’s huge taxes. Just eliminate unnecessary letters from our unwieldy spelling, he said, and you’ll save enough money in paper and printing to cut everyone’s tax rate in half. Maybe it would work, but it’s never been put to the test—and the way things look now, it never will be. Current practice more and more holds spelling exactly where it is, bad though it may be. It is a scientific law of language that if enough people make a “mistake,” the “mistake” becomes acceptable usage. That law applies to pronunciation, to grammar, to word meanings, but not to spelling. Maybe it’s because of our misbegotten faith in, and worship of, the printed word—maybe it’s because written language tends to be static, while spoken language constantly changes. Whatever the cause, spelling today successfully resists every logical effort at reform. “English spelling,” said Thorstein Veblen many years back, “satisfies all the requirements of the canons of reputability under the law of conspicuous waste. It is archaic, cumbrous, and ineffective.” Perfectly true. Notwithstanding, it’s here to stay.

Your most erudite friend doubtless misspells the name of the Hawaiian guitar. I asked half a dozen members of the English department of a large Eastern college to spell the word—without exception they responded with ukelele. Even a pocket-size dictionary lists the word that way. Yet the only accepted form is ukulele. Judging from my experience with adult classes at the City College of New York, half the population of the country must think the word is spelled alright. Yet all right is the only pattern permitted us. Seventy-five per cent of the members of my classes—and they’re all educated people—can’t spell embarrassing or coolly. People will go on misspelling these four words, but the authorized spelling will remain impervious to change.

Well, you know the one about Mohammed and the mountain. Though it’s true that we have modernized spelling to a microscopic extent in the last thirty-nine years (traveler, center, theater, medieval, labor, and honor, for example, have pretty much replaced traveller, centre, theatre, mediaeval, labour, and honour), still the resistance to change has not observably weakened. If spelling won’t change, as it probably won’t, those of us who consider ourselves poor spellers will have to. We’ll just have to get up and go to the mountain.

Is it hard to become a perfect speller? I have demonstrated over and over again in my adult classes at City College that anyone of normal intelligence and average educational background can become a perfect speller in very little time.

What makes the task so easy?

First—investigations have proved that 95 per cent of the spelling errors that educated people make occur in just 100 words, Not only do we all misspell the same words—but we misspell them in about the same way.

Second—correct spelling relies exclusively on memory, and the most effective way to train memory is by means of association or, to use the psychological term, mnemonics.

If you fancy yourself an imperfect or even a terrible speller, the chances are very great that you’ve developed a complex solely because you misspell some or all of the 100 words with which this chapter deals. When you have conquered this single list, and I shall immediately proceed to demonstrate how easy it is, by means of mnemonics, to do so, 95 per cent of your spelling difficulties will in all likelihood vanish.

Let us start with twenty-five words from the list. In the first column you will find the correct spelling of each, and in the second column the simple mnemonic that will forevermore fix that correct spelling in your memory.

Correct Spelling

Mnemonic

1. all right

Two words, no matter what it means. Keep in mind that it’s the opposite of all wrong.

2. coolly

Of course you can spell cool—simply add the adverbial ending—ly.

3. supersede

This is the only word in the language ending in -sede (the only one, mind you—there isn’t a single other one so spelled.)

4. succeed

5. proceed

6. exceed

The only three words in the entire language ending in -ceed. When you think of the three words in the order given here, the initial letters form the beginning of SPElling.

7. cede, precede, recede, et cetera

All other words with a similar-sounding final syllable end in -cede.

8. procedure

One of the double es of proceed moves to the end in the noun form, procedure.

9. stationery

This is the word that means paper, and notice the er in paper

10. stationary

In this spelling, the word means standing, and notice the a in stand.

11. recommend

Commend, which we all spell correctly, plus the prefix re-.

12. separate

13. comparative

Look for a rat in both words.

14. ecstasy

to sy (sigh) with ecstasy

15. analyze

16. paralyze

The only two nontechnical words in the whole language ending in -yze.

17. repetition

First four letters identical with those in the allied form, repeat.

18. irritable

Think of allied forms, irritate and

19. inimitable

imitate.

20. absence

Think of the allied form, absent, and you will not be tempted to misspell it abscence.

21. superintendent

The superintendent in an apartment house collects the rent—thus you avoid superintendant.

22. conscience

Science plus prefix con-.

23. anoint

Think of an ointment, hence no double n.

24. ridiculous

Think of the allied form, ridicule, which we usually spell correctly, thus avoiding rediculous.

25. despair

Again, think of another form—desperate—and so avoid dispair.

Whether or not you have much faith in your spelling ability, you will need very little time to conquer the preceding twenty-five demons. Spend a few minutes, now, on each of those words in the list that you’re doubtful of, and then test your success by means of the exercise below. Perhaps to your astonishment, you will find it easy to make a perfect score.

A test of your learning

Instructions: After studying the preceding list of words, fill in the missing letters correctly.

1. a__________right

2. coo__________y

3. super__________

4. suc__________

5. pro__________

6. ex__________

7. con__________

8. proc__________dure

9. station__________ry (paper)

10. station__________ry (still)

11. sep__________rate

12. compar__________tive

14. ecsta__________y

15. anal__________e

16. paral__________e

17. rep__________tition

18. irrit__________ble

19. inimit__________ble

20. ab__________ence

21. superintend__________nt

22. con__________nee

23. a__________oint

24. r__________diculous

25. d__________spair

Mere repetitious drill is of no value in learning to spell a word correctly. You’ve probably heard the one about the youngster who was kept after school because he was in the habit of using the ungrammatical expression, “I have went.” Miss X was going to cure her pupil, even if it required drastic measures. So she ordered him to write “I have gone” 1000 times. “Just leave your work on my desk before you go home,” she said, “and I’ll find it when I come in tomorrow morning.” Well, there were twenty pages of neat script on her desk next morning, 1000 lines of “I have gone’s,” and on the last sheet was a note from the child. “Dear Teacher,” it read, “I have done the work and I have went home.” If this didn’t actually happen, it logically could have, for in any drill, if the mind is not actively engaged, no learning will result. If you drive a car, or sew, or do any familiar and repetitious manual work, you know how your hands can carry on an accustomed task while your mind is far away. And if you hope to learn to spell by filling pages with a word, stop wasting your time. All you’ll get for your trouble is writer’s cramp.

The only way to learn to spell those words that now plague you is to devise a mnemonic for each one.

If you are never quite sure whether it’s indispensible or indispensable, you can spell it out 100, 1000, or 1,000,000 times—and the next time you have occasion to write it in a sentence, you’ll still wonder whether to end it with ible or able. But if you say to yourself just once that able men are generally indispensable, that thought will come to you whenever you need to spell the word; in a few seconds you’ve conquered another spelling demon. By engineering your own mnemonic through a study of the architecture of a troublesome word, you will become so quickly and completely involved with the correct spelling of that word that it will be impossible for you ever to be stumped again.

Let us start at once. Below you will find another twenty-five words from the list of 100 demons, each offered to you in both the correct form and in the popular misspelling. Go through the test quickly, checking off what you consider a proper choice in each case. In that way you will discover which of the twenty-five you would be likely to get caught on. Then devise a personal mnemonic for each word you flunked, writing your ingenious result out in the margin of the page. And don’t be alarmed if some of your mnemonics turn out kind of silly—the sillier they are, the more likely you are to recall them in an emergency. One of my pupils, who could not remember how many ls to put into tranquillity (or is it tranquility?), shifted his mind into high gear and came up with this: “In the old days life was more tranquil than today, and people wrote with quills instead of fountain pens. Hence—tranquillity!” Another pupil, a girl who always chewed her nails over irresistible before she could decide whether to end it with ible or able, suddenly realized that a certain brand of lipstick was called irresistible, the point being of course that the only vowel in lipstick is i—hence, ible! Silly, aren’t they? But they work. Go ahead to the test now; and see how clever—or silly—you can be.

SPELLING TEST

Check a or b, whichever you think is the correct form;

1. a. supprise

b. surprise

2. a. inoculate

b. innoculate

3. a. definitely

b. definately

4. a. priviledge

b. privilege

5. a. incidently

b. incidentally

6. a. predictible

b. predictable

7. a. dissipate

b. disippate

8. a. descriminate

b. discriminate

9. a. description

b. discription

10. a. baloon

b. balloon

11. a. occurence

b. occurrence

12. a. truely

b. truly

13. a. arguement

b. argument

14. a. assistant

b. asisstant

15. a. grammer

b. grammar

16. a. parallel

b. paralell

17. a. drunkeness

b. drunkenness

18. a. suddeness

b. suddenness

19. a. embarassment

b. embarrassment

20. a. weird

b. wierd

21. a. pronounciation

b. pronunciation

22. a. noticeable

b. noticable

23. a. developement

b. development

24. a. vicious

b. viscious

25. a. insistent

b. insistant

KEY: 1—b, 2—a, 3—a, 4—b, 5—b, 6—b, 7—a, 8—b, 9—a, 10—b, 11—b, 12—b, 13—b, 14—a, 15—b, 16—a, 17—b, 18—b, 19—b, 20—a, 21—b, 22—a, 23—b, 24—a, 25—a

By now you’re well on the way toward developing a definite superiority complex about your spelling—which isn’t a half-bad thing, for I’ve learned, working with my students, that many people think they’re awful spellers, and have completely lost faith in their ability, solely because they get befuddled over no more than two dozen or so common words that they use over and over again and always misspell. Every other word they spell perfectly, but they still think they’re prize boobs in spelling until their self-confidence is restored. So if you’re beginning to gain more assurance, you’re on the right track. The conquest of the 100 common words most frequently misspelled is not going to assure you that you will always come out top man in a spelling bee, but it’s certain to clean up your writing and bolster your ego.

So far you have worked with fifty of the 100 spelling demons. Here, now, is the remainder of the list. Test yourself, or have someone who can keep a secret test you, and discover which ones are your Waterloo. Study each one you miss as if it were a problem in engineering. Observe how it’s put together and devise whatever association pattern will fix the correct form in your mind.

Happy spelling!

SPELLING DEMONS

These fifty words complete the list of 100 words which most frequently stump the inexpert spellers:

1. embarrassing

2. judgment
(preferred spelling)

3. indispensable

4. disappear

5. disappoint

6. corroborate

7. sacrilegious

8. tranquillity
(preferred spelling)

9. exhilaration

10. newsstand

11. license
(preferred spelling)

12. irresistible

13. persistent

14. dilemma

15. perseverance

16. until (but till)

17. tyrannize

18. vacillate

19. oscillate

20. accommodate

21. dilettante

22. changeable

23. accessible

24. forty

25. desirable

26. panicky

27. seize

28. leisure

29. receive

30. achieve

31. holiday

32. existence

33. pursue

34. pastime

35. possesses

36. professor

37. category

38. rhythmical

39. vacuum

40. benefited

41. committee

42. grievous

43. conscious

44. plebeian

45. tariff

46. sheriff

47. connoisseur

48. necessary

49. sergeant

50. misspelling

16

HOW TO TALK
ABOUT A VARIETY OF CONDITIONS

TEASER PREVIEW

What word, ending in ous, would aptly describe someone who is:

THERE are thousands of English words which end in the letters -ous—a useful suffix which denotes full of.

The central theme about which the words in this chapter revolve is the idea of “fullness”—and as you will shortly see, you can be full of compliance and servility; full of complaints; full of snobbery; full of noise; full of no money; full of horsemanship; full of harmlessness; full of liquor; full of deathly pallor; and full of sorrows.

For each of these ideas English has a word—and the person with a rich vocabulary knows the exact word to describe what he’s full of.

IDEAS, ORIGINS, AND RELATED WORDS

1. compliance

The Latin root sequi means to follow—and those who follow rather than lead are usually in a menial, subordinate, or inferior position. People who engage in certain fields of endeavor—waiters, clerks, and servants, for example—are forced, often contrary to their natural temperaments, to act excessively courteous, pleasant, obliging, even subservient and humble. They must follow the lead of their customers or employers, bending their own wills according to the desires of those they serve. They are, etymologically, full of following after, or—
obsequious

RELATED WORDS:

1. obsequies—In a funeral cortege, the mourners follow after the corpse. Hence, obsequies are the burial ceremonies, the funeral rites.

2. subsequent—A subsequent letter, paragraph, time, et cetera is one which follows another.

3. sequel—A sequel may be a literary work, such as a novel, which follows another, continuing the same subject, dealing with the same people or village, et cetera; or it may be an occurrence which grows out of or follows another, as in the sentence, “Just wait until you hear the sequel to the story!”

4. sequence—In order, one item following another, as in, “The sequence of events of the next few days left him breathless.”

Any other word containing the letters sequ is likely to have some relationship to the idea of following.

2. complaints

The Latin root queri means to complain—and anyone full of complaints, constantly nagging, harping, fretful, petulant, whining, never satisfied, may accordingly be called—
querulous

3. snobbery

The Latin root cilium means eyelid; super means above; and above the eyelid, as anyone can plainly see, is the eyebrow. Now there are certain obnoxious people who go around raising their eyebrows in contempt, disdain, and sneering arrogance at ordinary mortals like you and me. Such contemptuous, sneering, overbearingly conceited people are called—
supercilious

4. noise

The Latin root strepere means to make a noise—anyone who is unruly, boisterous, resistant to authority, unmanageable—all in a noisy, troublesome manner, is—
obstreperous

5. moneyless

The Latin root pecus means cattle—and at one time in human history a man’s wealth was measured not by his stocks and bonds but by his stocks of domestic animals, which was a lot more logical, since you get milk and leather and meat from cattle—true wealth—and all you get from the stock market is a headache.

Someone who had lots of “pecus,” then, was rich—someone without “pecus” was indigent, destitute, “broke.” And so today we call someone who is habitually without funds, who seems generally to be full of a complete lack of money—
impecunious

(This word is not a synonym of indigent, destitute, or poverty-stricken; it does not necessarily imply living in reduced circumstances or want, but quite simply being short of cash—habitually.)

RELATED WORD:

1. pecuniary—pertaining to money, as in, a pecuniary consideration; pecuniary affairs, et cetera

6. horses

The French root cheval means horse; and in medieval times only gentlemen and knights rode on horses—common people walked. Traditionally (but not, I understand, actually) knights were courteous to women, attentive to female desires, and self-sacrificing when their own interests came in conflict with those of the fair sex. Hence, we call a modern man who has a knightly attitude to women—
chivalrous

RELATED WORDS:

(Cheval, horse, comes from Latin caballus, an inferior horse. Caballus is found in English words in the spelling caval.)

1. cavalcade—a procession of persons on horseback, as in a parade

2. cavalier—as a noun, cavalier means simply a military man of certain rank, or a mounted soldier. As an adjective, cavalier describes actions and attitudes that are haughty, unmindful of other’s feelings, too offhand, such attributes often being associated with people in power (the military being one of the powers-that-be). Thus, “He answered in a cavalier manner” would signify that he was arrogant in his answer, as if the questioner was taking a little too much privilege with him. Or, “After the cavalier treatment I received, I never wished to return,” signifying that I was pretty much made to feel unimportant and inferior. Or, “After her cavalier refusal, I’ll never invite her to another party,” signifying that the refusal was, perhaps, curt, offhand, without any attempt at apology or courtesy.

3. cavalry—the mounted, or “horsed” part of an army

Another Latin word for horse is equus, found in such English words as:

1. equestrian—a horseman

2. equestrienne—a horsewoman

3. equine—horselike, similar in construction to bovine, feline, vulpine, et cetera

7. no harm done

The Latin root nocere means to injure; someone who need cause you no fear, so harmless is he, so unable to interfere, so unlikely to get you into trouble, is called—
innocuous

RELATED WORDS:

1. innocent—not guilty of crime or injury

2. noxious—harmful, poisonous; unwholesome

8. alcoholic

The Latin root bibere means to drink; and one who is generally found with one foot up on the brass rail, who likes to tipple beyond the point of sobriety—who, in short, has an overfondness for drinks with a pronounced alcoholic content, is called, usually humorously—
bibulous

RELATED WORD:

imbibe—to drink in, soak up, absorb. If we use this verb without specifying what is drunk, as in “He likes to imbibe,” the implication, of course, is always liquor; but imbibe may also be used in patterns like “imbibe learning” or “in early infancy she imbibed a respect for her parents.”

9. like death itself

The Latin root cadere means to fall—one’s final fall is of course always in death, and so someone who looks like a corpse (figuratively speaking), who is pale, gaunt, thin, haggard, his eyes deep-sunk, his limbs wasted, in other words the extreme opposite of the picture of glowing health, is called—
cadaverous

RELATED WORDS:

1. cadaver—a corpse, literally

2. decadent—literally, falling down (de is a prefix meaning down, as in descend, climb down; decline, turn down; et cetera). If something is in a decadent state, it is deteriorating, becoming corrupt or demoralized. Decadence is a state of decay—decay itself being the shortened verb form of decadent. Generally decadent and decadence are used figuratively—they refer not to actual physical decay (as of a dead body), but to moral or spiritual decay. Both decadent and decadence are preferably accented on the second syllable.

10. pain and misery

The Latin root dolere means to suffer—one who is mournful and sad, whose melancholy comes from physical pain or mental distress is called—
dolorous

RELATED WORDS:

1. dolor—a poetic synonym of grief

2. doleful—a word applied somewhat humorously to exaggerated dismalness, sadness, or dreariness

USING THE WORDS

I have built this chapter, as you have noticed, directly on the roots found in our basic ten words; roots that are not particularly common but which, once they are recognized and understood, add to the richness and meaningfulness of the words you are studying. Just looking at the roots once again will probably serve to bring the words back to mind. Try it.

And of course there were the two other roots we turned up in our discussion:

Now let’s recapitulate by restating the words and their meanings.

1. obsequious—servilely attentive, fawningly polite, as to customers or superiors

2. querulous—nagging, discontented, complaining

3. supercilious—haughtily disdainful, snobbish, sneeringly contemptuous

4. obstreperous—noisily unmanageable, troublesome

5. impecunious—habitually “broke”

6. chivalrous—attentive and courteous to women

7. innocuous—harmless

8. bibulous—addicted to alcoholic stimulation (humorous)

9. cadaverous—gaunt, corpselike, haggard

10. dolorous—melancholy, sorrowful

A. THE BASIC WORDS

Can you pronounce the words?

*1. obsequious

ob-SEEK-we-us

*2. querulous

KWER-oo-lus

*3. supercilious

soo-per-SILL-ee-us

*4. obstreperous

ob-STREP-er-us

*5. impecunious

im-pe-KYOO-nee-us

*6. chivalrous

SHIV-il-rus

*7. innocuous

in-NOCK-yoo-us

*8. bibulous

BIB-yoo-lus

*9. cadaverous

ka-DAV-er-us

*10. dolorous

DOLL-er-us

Note: All these adjectives, with the exception of chivalrous, become nouns by the simple addition of NESS. Chivalrous becomes chivalry. Another form of chivalrous is chivalric, pronounced shi-VAL-rik.

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and meanings.

1. obsequious

a. snobbish

2. querulous

b. harmless

3. supercilious

c. gaunt

4. obstreperous

d. short of funds

5. impecunious

e. fawning

6. chivalrous

f. sorrowful

7. innocuous

g. addicted to drink

8. bibulous

h. courteous to females

9. cadaverous

i. complaining

10. dolorous

j. unmanageable

KEY: 1—e, 2—i, 3—a, 4—j, 5—d, 6—h, 7—b, 8—g, 9—c, 10—f

Can you work with the words? (II)

Match each word in the first column with another from the second column which is opposite in meaning.

1. obsequious

a. content

2. querulous

b. affluent

3. supercilious

c. healthy

4. obstreperous

d. rude

5. impecunious

e. sober

6. chivalrous

f. dangerous

7. innocuous

g. humble

8. bibulous

h. misogynous

9. cadaverous

i. gay

10. dolorous

j. quiet

KEY: 1—d, 2—a, 3—g, 4—j, 5—b, 6—h, 7—f, 8—e, 9—c, 10—i

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to each question.

Can you recall the words?

B. RELATED WORDS

Can you pronounce the words?

Discussion of the roots of our ten basic words has turned up eighteen others. Can you say them correctly?

*1. obsequies

OB-se-kweez

2. subsequent

SUB-se-kwent

3. sequel

SEE-kwel

4. sequence

SEE-kwence

*5. pecuniary

pe-KYOO-nee-er-ee

6. noxious

NOK-shus

7. imbibe

im-BYBE

*8. dolor

DOE-ler

9. doleful

DOLE-ful

10. cavalcade

KAV-il-kayd

11. cavalier (adj.)

KAV-a-leer

12. cavalry

KAV-il-ree

13. equestrian

ee-KWESS-tree-in

14. equestrienne

ee-KWESS-tree-ENN

*15. equine

EE-kwyne

*16. cadaver

ka-DAV-er

*17. decadent

de-KAY-dent

*18. decadence

de-KAY-dence

Can you work with the words?

Match words and meanings.

1. obsequies

a. proper order

2. subsequent

b. drink, absorb

3. sequel

c. harmful, poisonous

4. sequence

d. pain, sorrow (poetic)

5. pecuniary

e. coming later

6. noxious

f. procession of mounted riders

7. imbibe

g. offhand, haughty

8. dolor

h. a following event or literary work

9. doleful

i. horsewoman

10. cavalcade

j. pertaining to money

11. cavalier (adj.)

k. mounted military division

12. cavalry

l. funeral rites

13. equestrian

m. exaggeratedly sorrowful

14. equestrienne

n. horselike

15. equine

o. horseman

16. cadaver

p. spiritual decline

17. decadent

q. morally decaying

18. decadence

r. corpse

KEY: 1—1, 2—e, 3—h, 4—a, 5—j, 6—c, 7—b, 8—d, 9—m, 10—f, 11—g, 12—k, 13—o, 14—i, 15—n, 16—r, 17—q, 18—p

Do you understand the words? (I)

React quickly to each question.

Do you understand the words? (II)

Do you understand the words? (III)

Is each pair of words the same or opposite in meaning?

Can you recall the words?

Write the word that fits each definition.

CHAPTER REVIEW

Can you recognize the words?

Check the word that fits each definition.

1. Excessively polite and fawning:

(a) querulous, (b) obsequious, (c) supercilious

2. Noisily troublesome:

(a) querulous, (b) impecunious, (c) obstreperous

3. Courteous and attentive to women:

(a) querulous, (b) chivalrous, (c) supercilious

4. Complaining, nagging:

(a) querulous, (b) supercilious, (c) innocuous

5. Haughtily disdainful:

(a) supercilious, (b) bibulous, (c) dolorous

6. Gaunt, corpselike:

(a) noxious, (b) cadaverous, (c) doleful

7. High-handed:

(a) supercilious, (b) cavalier, (c) decadent

8. Moral decay:

(a) decadence, (b) obsequies, (c) sequence

KEY: 1—b, 2—c, 3—b, 4—a, 5—a, 6—b, 7—b, 8—a

OPENING YOUR MIND TO NEW IDEAS

If you have arrived at this point in the book honestly—that is, by actual study, not by merely dipping in at random—I have a simple and interesting exercise for you.

In the spaces below, write down ten new words that you have recently learned either from your work in this book or from any of the suggested methods of vocabulary building.

That was simplicity itself, wasn’t it?

Now ask some other person to try a similar job—writing down ten new words that he has learned in the last few weeks.

You know what the result will probably be. The chances are he’ll draw a blank, or at best be able to think of only one or two brand new words that he has actually learned recently.

Think what this means.

The average adult effectively (but unnecessarily) puts a brake on his learning after his formal schooling is over (new words, I repeat, are verbal symbols of new learning), practically wraps his mind in an almost impenetrable jacket, virtually (though unconsciously, of course) says: “I know so much and it’s enough.”

You begin to see, then, how increasing your vocabulary through methodically learning new words and consciously opening your mind to new ideas can change the entire intellectual climate of your life.

I repeat that if you have arrived at this point in the book honestly—by faithfully doing all the work and some of the suggested reading—it cannot be otherwise than that you begin to feel the newness and richness of the changed intellectual climate in which you are now living.

And as we begin to approach the end of our work together and you begin to reap some of the benefits, I wish only to ask: “Was it not effort well-expended?”

BRIEF INTERMISSION THIRTEEN:
ANOTHER CHECK ON YOUR SPELLING

In each line you will find four words—one of them purposely, subtly, and perhaps unexpectedly misspelled. It’s up to you to check the single error. If you can come out top man at least fifteen times out of twenty, you’re probably a better speller than you realize.

1. (a) alright, (b) coolly, (c) supersede, (d) disappear,

2. (a) inoculate, (b) definately, (c) irresistible, (d) recommend

3. (a) incidentally, (b) dissipate, (c) seperate, (d) balloon

4. (a) argument, (b) ecstasy, (c) occurrance, (d) analyze

5. (a) sacrilegious, (b) weird, (c) pronunciation, (d) repitition

6. (a) drunkeness, (b) embarrassment, (c) weird, (d) irritable

7. (a) noticeable, (b) superintendant, (c) absence, (d) development

8. (a) vicious, (b) conscience, (c) panicy, (d) amount

9. (a) accessible, (b) pursue, (c) exhilarate, (d) insistant

10. (a) naïveté, (b) necessary, (c) catagory, (d) professor

11. (a) rhythmical, (b) sergeant, (c) vaccuum, (d) assassin

12. (a) benefitted, (b) allotted, (c) corroborate, (d) despair

13. (a) diphtheria, (b) grandeur, (c) rediculous, (d) license

14. (a) tranquillity, (b) symmetry, (c) occassion, (d) privilege

15. (a) tarrif, (b) tyranny, (c) battalion, (d) archipelago

16. (a) bicycle, (b) geneology, (c) liquefy, (d) bettor

17. (a) defense, (b) batchelor, (c) kidnaped, (d) parallel

18. (a) whisky, (b) likable, (c) bookkeeper, (d) accomodate

19. (a) comparitive, (b) mayonnaise, (c) indispensable, (d) dexterous

20. (a) dictionary, (b) cantaloupe, (c) existance, (d) ukulele

KEY: 1—a (all right), 2—b (definitely), 3—c (separate), 4—c (occurrence), 5—d (repetition), 6—a (drunkenness), 7—b (superintendent), 8—c (panicky), 9—d (insistent), 10—c (category), 11—c (vacuum), 12—a (benefited), 13—c (ridiculous), 14—c (occasion), 15—a (tariff), 16—b genealogy), 17—b (bachelor), 18—d (accommodate), 19—a (comparative), 20—c (existence)

17

HOW TO TALK
ABOUT COMPLICATED IDEAS

TEASER PREVIEW

What word ending in -ous would aptly and vividly describe something which:

NOT only people, but things, circumstances, actions, speech, and other such intangibles can also be “full of.” For example, the words in this chapter will explore the ideas of fullness of danger threats; of similarity; of “after-death exhibition”; of coarse indecency; of abstractness; of irregularity; of harm; of disgrace; of wiliness. And to return to previous organization of the material, after our short change of pace in Chapters 15 and 16, we shall first examine the ideas behind ten basic words, then the host of related and derived forms which these words bring to our notice.

IDEAS

1. unexpected difficulties

President Truman was re-elected, in 1948, on a liberal and reform program: housing, civil rights, a pro-labor bill to substitute for the Taft-Hartley law, et cetera. After the Eighty-first Congress met, the Republicans and Southern Democrats formed a coalition which successfully defeated almost every administration measure. Truman then found himself in a most contradictory, irregular, abnormal position; his party, his candidates, his platform had won—but he couldn’t get his bills through.

What adjective, ending in -ous, describes Truman’s position?

anomalous

2. trouble ahead

In early 1949, there were what seemed unmistakable signs that the much heralded Great Depresssion was not far off—mounting unemployment, curtained production, decreased buying, breaks in the price structure, et cetera. Such circumstances were deemed by some economists to be a foreshadowing of disaster.

What adjective, ending in -ous, means a sign of coming trouble?

ominous

3. with their own kind

In many large schools, students of approximately the same intelligence are placed in the same class. The purpose of such grouping is to permit the teacher to work more efficiently by scaling her instruction on the level suitable to all the members of the class. The problem of what may be too fast for some being too slow for others is thus obviated.

What adjective, ending in -ous, describes a grouping or collection of people or things which are essentially similar?

homogeneous

4. after death

Sometimes a book is published after the author has died—there being a certain time lag (about six months) between the submission of a manuscript and its appearance between covers. Sometimes a work of art—a statue or painting, say—is exhibited for the first time to the public after the artist has died. And also it may happen (again because of the time lag that exists between conception and appearance) that a child is born after its father has died.

What adjective, ending in -ous, describes a book, a work of art, or a baby which appears after the death of its creator or father?

posthumous

5. the lower depths

Often in political campaigns, a point is reached at which the candidates take off their gloves and start slugging with bare fists. This means that all kinds of abusive language is used; coarse implications are mades indecent accusations are aired; and in general the attack is on such a low level that students of American government realize that politics hasn’t changed a bit in the last fifty years.

What adjective, ending in -ous, describes attacks made in vulgar, low, or indecent language?

scurrilous

6. elusive

Imagine something so thin, so insubstantial, so subtle and abstract (it may be a thought, an argument, the plot of a novel, or similar things) that there seems no part of it that you can grab hold of and really look at.

What adjective, ending in -ous, most aptly describes such figurative thinness, such complete intangibility?

tenuous

7. unexpected

You are entertaining some guests in your home. Suddenly one of them makes an insulting remark about your wife’s appearance. Not only was the remark insulting—more, it was uncalled for, totally unprovoked, completely unnecessary.

What adjective, ending in -ous, describes a remark for which there was no provocation and which seems to serve no purpose?

gratuitous

8. bad for what ails you

The diabetic must generally avoid sugar as much as possible. When an excess of sugar gets into the diabetic’s system (and for him an excess is an amount that might not even begin to interest a normal or healthy person) it causes fairly unpleasant results: dizziness, fainting, even coma.

What adjective, ending in -ous, describes the harmful effect that substances may have on the human body?

deleterious

9. scandalous

You have been forced to do something which fills you with humiliation, which can be productive of nothing but disgrace. What the particular action was is of no consequence—people have differing standards and what may seem respectable and noble to one may be nothing short of debasing to another. What is important is the shameful feeling which the act gives you—such a feeling growing out of the low opinion of you that you believe your act will produce among your friends or in the public mind.

What adjective, ending in -ous, describes an act which can overwhelm the doer with humiliation and disgrace?

ignominious

10. trap, well-concealed

Cancer creeps up on you—you seem perfectly healthy until the first crucial symptoms appear. Then, when you recognize the disease, it is often too late. That is why doctors so solemnly warn of the necessity for periodic cancer examinations.

What adjective, ending in -ous, aptly describes something which can, like cancer, weave a trap around you so inconspicuously that you do not realize what is happening until you’re caught?

insidious

USING THE WORDS: I

Can you pronounce the words?

*1. anomalous

a-NOM-a-lus

*2. ominous

OM-in-us

*3. homogeneous

hoe-moe-JEE-ne-us

*4. posthumous

POSS-choo-mus

*5. scurrilous

SKURR-i-lus

*6. tenuous

TEN-yoo-us

*7. gratuitous

gra-TOO-i-tus

*8. deleterious

del-e-TEER-ee-us

*9. ignominious

ig-no-MINN-ee-us

10. insidious

in-SID-ee-us

Can you work with the words?

Match words and definitions.

1. anomalous

a. after-death

2. ominous

b. threatening

3. homogeneous

c. thin, insubstantial

4. posthumous

d. disgraceful

5. scurrilous

e. unprovoked

6. tenuous

f. deceitful; subtly tricky

7. gratuitous

g. irregular

8. deleterious

h. harmful

9. ignominious

i. indecent

10. insidious

j. similarly constituted

KEY: 1—g, 2—b, 3—j, 4—a, 5—i, 6—c, 7—e, 8—h, 9—d, 10—f

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to each question.

Can you recall the words?

Write the word that fits each definition.

Can you use the words?

From the ten basic words, choose the one which will best fit each of the following ideas:

DERIVATIONS AND RELATED WORDS: I

1. an irregularity

Anything anomalous is way off the beaten path—it violates our need for order and fitness, it deviates from the rules on which we like to rely, it is a kind of paradox or contradiction.

For example, since most birds fly, we are surprised and puzzled by one that stays on the ground—we call it an anomaly.

If we were used to thinking of moneyed men as conservative, we would consider a person like Marshall Field III, the wealthy department-store tycoon, an anomaly. Field is a liberal and the one-time financial backer of the newspaper PM, which militantly plumped for the rights of the common man. Franklin D. Roosevelt was an anomaly in the same way—though his background was one of wealth, his interests were with the downtrodden, with the ill-clothed, ill-housed third of our nation.

Anomalous is from two Greek roots: the negative particle an, which we have met before in anachronous (not in time with its surroundings); and homalos, even or regular. Any thing anomalous is irregular, contrary to rule.

2. not so

When you see an at the beginning of an English word you cannot be sure that it is the Greek negative particle, for these two letters may have a number of meanings; but in the following words, an does serve as a negative force:

1. anarchy—no rule or government; lawlessness. The anarchist believes that all government is evil; therefore he stands for terroristic resistance to constituted authority. The root arch, rule or government, is also found in hierarchy, the top ruling caste, as in the church, in any big organization, or in any large government bureau (the archbishops and bishops form, with the Pope, the hierarchy of the Catholic church; Stalin and the Politbureau form (1949) the hierarchy of Russia; the president and cabinet secretaries are the hierarchy of the Federal government); patriarch, the ruling father person; monarch, the one, single, ruler, et cetera.

2. analgesia—no pain, hence insensibility to pain. An analgesic is a drug or lotion which soothes or alleviates pain. The root in analgesia is of course related to algia, which we met in neuralgia (nerve pain) and nostalgia (pain and longing for the past.)

3. anesthetic—no feeling. An anesthetic, such as chloroform or ether, removes sensation so that an operation can be performed. There are the general anesthetics which remove all feeling by numbing the brain, and the local anesthetics, such as novocaine, which numb only certain localities. (A dentist, for example, will inject novocaine into your gums so that he can work on a certain tooth without making you jump out of the chair.) In the rest of your body you are fully alive—in the region of the injection you are without feeling. The doctor who administers the anesthetic is an anesthetist and is working in the field of anesthesia. An esthetic person has keen feelings, sharp sensitivity, especially for what is beautiful. If something violates your esthetic sense, it offends your ideals of beauty.

4. anemia—etymologically, not blood, from Greek haima, blood. Anemia is the condition in which the red corpuscles of the blood are reduced in number or deficient in hemoglobin, an important constituent of the blood. The malady causes paleness, shortness of breath, palpitations of the heart, and other unpleasant symptoms. Therapeutic doses of liver or vitamin B are usually prescribed to alleviate the condition. The adjective anemic is applied to anyone who looks thin, pale, or undernourished, and things can be called anemic if they lack richness or fullness.

5. anonymous—no name. You will recall nym from our discussion of patronymic (name from the father); synonym (same name or meaning); antonym (opposite name or meaning); and homonym (similar name or meaning). Anything anonymous, like a letter, a story, et cetera is without a name. If we say that the crime was committed by an anonymous person, we mean that the perpetrator of the misdeed doubtless had a name, but we do not know it—hence, to all practical purposes, he is nameless. The noun is anonymity.

3. signs, portents and prophecies

Ominous, from the Latin root omen, a sign of coming catastrophe, may be applied to an event, a speech, a tone of voice, an action which seems to indicate dire misfortune in the future.

The announcer on the “March of Time” newsreels generally speaks in ominous tones—in the trade he is known as “the voice of doom.” Or we may refer to “ominous rumblings of thunder” if we believe such sounds presage a violent storm. The thunder, like the storm, may be actual weather, or may refer to political or economic events.

4. same and different

In homogeneous we find two Greek roots: homos, same, and genos, kind or type. Any homogeneous group, then, is made up of individuals who in some way are of the same kind. Homos, same, is also found in homosexual, the adjective that describes the abnormal attraction which some people feel toward members of the same sex; homeopath, a physician who believes in treating diseases (path, suffering) with minute doses of drugs which would cause in a healthy patient the same symptoms of which the patient complains; and homonyms, words of the same sound but different spelling and meaning, as sighs—size, break—brake, bail—bale, et cetera. Homicide (see page 242) has no relation to Greek homos; it comes from Latin homo, mankind.

The opposite of homogeneous is heterogeneous, which uses the Greek root heteros, other. A heterogeneous population, mixture, class, or other group is made up of individuals of other or different kinds, and heterosexual love is directed toward members of the other or opposite sex. The opposite of homeopathy, the technique practiced by the homeopath, is allopathy—here we use another Greek root for other, allos. Homeopathy was a popular technique among physicians several generations back; today almost all doctors are allopaths—they believe in curing diseases by administering drugs that cause other or opposite symptoms. For example, if a child runs a high temperature, a believer in allopathic medicine will prescribe aspirin, which reduces temperature in youngsters.

In homogeneous and heterogeneous the accent is on the ge; in the noun forms, homogeneity and heterogeneity, the accent shifts to the next syllable: hoe-mo-JEE-ne-us, hoe-mo-je-NEE-i-tee; het-er-o-JEE-ne-us, het-er-o-je-NEE-i-tee.

In homogenized milk, the butterfat does not separate from the rest of the milk—the entire content of the bottle, then, is of the same consistency, hence, say the manufacturers, more digestible, and also, by the way, usually more expensive.

5. after and before

In posthumous you can recognize the common Latin prefix post, after. Any book, child, or work of art which we call posthumous is published, born, or exhibited after the author, father, or artist has been buried in the ground (humus). We may also speak of a man’s posthumous effect—as when his will creates a trust fund, or as when F.D.R., though dead, still has an influence on the Democratic party.

Post, after, is found in many simple words: postpone, postdate, P.M. (post meridiem), postscript, et cetera. Other, less common words, also contain the prefix:

1. posterior—the “after” part of the anatomy, hence the back or buttocks. This word is contrasted to anterior, the front.

2. post-mortem—after-death. A post-mortem examination on a corpse is an autopsy; in nonmedical parlance, a post-mortem is a discussion, usually in tones of complaint, of some difficulty after the event. “No post-mortems,” one bridge partner will say to another who complains about the way the hand was played; or the husband who likes to engage in post-mortems complains to his wife about what she should have done in some circumstance instead of what she actually did. Needless to say, those who are addicted to the habit of making post-mortems are not particularly popular.

The Latin prefix ante is the opposite of post, and means before. It is found in such common words as antique, belonging to the age way before; anteroom, a room before another; antecedent, something which goes before; and also in the interesting word antediluvian, literally before the flood, that is, the flood in which Noah and his Ark figured so prominently. Call a person or a technique antediluvian and you are saying that he or it is about as antiquated and behind the times as one can well imagine—naturally, the adjective is used contemptuously. Anterior, the “before” or front part of the anatomy, is contrasted to posterior. Do not confuse ante, before, with anti, against, as in antiseptic, against contamination; antipathy, a feeling against; antonyms, words with “against” or opposite meanings, as bad—good, high—low, et cetera.

6. coarse language

Scurra is the Latin for buffoon or jester; but scurrilous, which is built on the Latin root, is much stronger than its source would indicate. A scurrilous letter is abusive, vulgar, coarse; a scurrilous book, a scurrilous attack, a scurrilous remark, et cetera contains abusive vituperation and possibly indecent language. The noun is scurrility.

USING THE WORDS: II

Let us pause for a moment to review what we have learned. Let us take another look at the words which our study of roots has turned up.

I. an, ana—a Greek negative prefix:

1. anomaly, something not according to rule

2. anarchy, lack of law, opposition to government

3. analgesia, lack of pain

4. anasthesia, insensibility to feeling

5. anemia, lack of important elements in the blood

6. anonymity, lack of a name

II. arch—Greek root meaning rule:

1. anarchist, one opposed to government

2. hierarchy, the higher echelons of church, government, business, et cetera

III. esthet—feeling

1. anasthetic, no feeling

2. esthetic, appealing to the feelings

IV. nym—name, meaning

1. anonymous, without a name

2. homonyms, words of same sound

3. synonym, words of same meaning

4. antonyms, words of opposite meaning

V. homos—same

1. homogeneity, same kind

2. homosexual, pertaining to the same sex

3. homeopathy, treatment to produce same symptoms

VI. heteros—other, different

1. heterogeneity, different kind

2. heterosexual, pertaining to the other sex

VII. post—a Latin prefix meaning after

1. posterior, back, bottom, afterpart

2. posthumous, after burial

3. post-mortem, after death

VIII. ante—a Latin prefix meaning before

1. antediluvian, before the flood

2. antecedent, coming before

3. anterior, forepart, the front

IX. anti—a Greek prefix meaning against

1. antiseptic, against contamination

2. antonyms, words of opposite meanings

3. antipathy, hostility, a feeling against

X. scurra—jester

1. scurrilous, abusive

2. scurrility, abusiveness

Can you pronounce the words?

1. anomaly

a-NOM-a-lee

2. anarchy

AN-er-kee

*3. hierarchy

HIE-er-ar-kee

*4. analgesia

an-al-JEE-zee-a

*5. analgesic

an-al-JEE-zik

6. anesthetic

an-es-THET-ik

7. anesthetist

an-ESS-the-tist

*8. anesthesia

an-es-THEE-zha

9. esthetic

ess-THET-ik

10. anemia

a-NEE-mee-a

11. anonymous

a-NON-a-mus

*12. anonymity

a-no-NIMM-i-tee

13. homosexual

hoe-moe-SEK-shoo-al

*14. homeopath

HOE-mee-o-path

15. homonym

HOM-o-nym

*16. homeopathy

hoe-mee-OP-a-thee

*17. allopath

AL-o-path

*18. allopathy

al-OP-a-thee

*19. heterogeneous

het-er-o-JEE-nee-us

*20. heterogeneity

het-er-o-je-NEE-i-tee

*21. homogeneity

hoe-mo-je-NEE-i-tee

22. heterosexual

het-er-o-SEK-shoo-al

23. posterior

po-STEER-ee-er

24. anterior

an-TEER-ee-er

25. post-mortem

POST-MOR-tem

*26. antediluvian

AN-tee-di-LOO-vee-in

27. antiseptic

an-ti-SEP-tik

*28. antipathy

an-TIP-a-thee

29. antonym

AN-to-nim

*30. scurrility

skur-RILL-i-tee

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and definitions.

1. anomaly

a. top ruling caste

2. anarchy

b. numbing of pain

3. hierarchy

c. lawlessness

4. analgesia

d. lack of identification

5. anesthesia

e. alleviation of pain

6. anonymity

f. irregularity

KEY: 1—f, 2—c, 3—a, 4—e, 5—b, 6—d

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. homonym

a. word with same meaning

2. synonym

b. one who administers ether, et cetera

3. antonym

c. doctor who prescribes remedies that produce opposite effects

4. homeopath

d. variety

5. allopath

e. similarity

6. anesthetist

f. abusiveness

7. antipathy

g. word that sounds like another

8. scurrility

h. hostility, aversion

9. homogeneity

i. doctor who prescribes remedies that produce similar effects

10. heterogeneity

j. word with opposite meaning

KEY: 1—g, 2—a, 3—j, 4—i, 5—c, 6—b, 7—h, 8—f, 9—e, 10—d

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. analgesic

a. pain-removing

2. anesthetic

b. wan, pale

3. esthetic

c. pertaining to one’s own sex

4. anemic

d. nameless

5. anonymous

e. pain-soothing

6. homosexual

f. pertaining to the other sex

7. heterosexual

g. appealing to sense of beauty

KEY: 1—e, 2—a, 3—g, 4—b, 5—d, 6—c, 7—f

Can you work with the words? (IV)

1. posterior

a. very antiquated

2. anterior

b. front

3. post mortem

c. clean; free of germs

4. antediluvian

d. irregular

5. antiseptic

e. threatening; foreboding evil

6. scurrilous

f. after death; after the event

7. anomalous

g. after death of author, et cetera

8. ominous

h. back

9. posthumous

i. abusive

KEY: 1—h, 2—b, 3—f, 4—a, 5—c, 6—i, 7—d, 8—e, 9—g

Do you understand the words? (I)

React quickly to the following questions.

Do you understand the words? (II)

Can you recall the words?

Write the word that fits each definition.

Can you recall roots?

Write the root that has each of the following meanings:

ORIGINS AND RELATED WORDS: II

1. thinner and thinner

Though tenuous comes from the Latin word tenuis, thin, the thinness is usually not actual, literal, or physical, but generally figurative and abstract. We do not, of course, refer to “a tenuous woman” or “a tenuous slice of roast beef.” Rather the word is used in such combinations as “tenuous logic,” “tenuous feeling,” or “a tenuous thread of melancholy throughout the book.” This is one of those words which practically defy explanation or definition, and which you can best learn by watching for it in your reading. Synonyms of tenuous are flimsy, insubstantial, insignificant, subtle; and Webster’s Dictionary of Synonyms says that something is tenuous if it “is so finespun or so fine-drawn as to be exceedingly subtle, abstruse, visionary, or the like” and offers as examples of its use:

“a tenuous idealism”—Bunyan

“poetry so tenuous in thought and feeling . . .”

—Grandgent

“. . . golden, tenuous imaginings”—Galsworthy

The noun is tenuousness.

The root of tenuous (tenuis—thin) is found in two other valuable words:

1. attenuate—to thin (figuratively) by robbing of richness, impact, or vitality; to weaken or lessen the force. Thus, rent control was attenuated by Congress in March, 1949, according to critics of the measure. The provisions that landlords could sue for “fair return” and that communities, with the consent of the state governor, might decontrol themselves, thinned the bill down to practically nothing, again according to its critics.

2. extenuating—moderating, justifying. If there are “extenuating circumstances” behind an offense or crime, these serve to explain or justify the offense or crime, or, etymologically, to thin out its seriousness. Thus, if you have killed someone, the fact that he first attacked you and you simply hit back in self-defense is an extenuating circumstance. At your trial, you will offer in extenuation of your offense the fact that there was practically nothing else to do. “Extenuating evidence” is that evidence which helps to explain the reasons for an act and therefore to lessen its seriousness. There can be “extenuating factors” to account for and soften the gravity of a misdeed. It is true, let us suppose, that the assistant manager of the bank disappeared, and with him $690,000—but there were extenuating factors: the money was always lying around to tempt him; there was a cute blonde who kept demanding mink coats and gold bracelets; et cetera.

2. an etymological anomaly

Gratuitous comes from Latin gratus, agreeable, thankful; yet a gratuitous remark, insult, or act is far from pleasing—we have here one of those etymological flip-flops that occasionally happen in English.

Understand two things about a gratuitous act: it is perpetrated without reason, cause, or justification; and it is always unpleasant, in that it offends or harms someone. For example, you and your wife have been having a most pleasant conversation, in the course of which you both agree that Mr. P, your neighbor, often beats his wife, but with good cause (i.e., there are extenuating factors). Suddenly your wife says: “I bet you’ve often wanted to beat me but haven’t dared.”

Of course your mouth drops open. Everything has been honey and light up to this point—and now this gratuitous, unexpected insult. Do you see the flavor of the word?

3. please and thank you

Gratus, pleasing, is found more sensibly in a number of other words in which it ties up logically with the meaning:

1. gratis—free, without charge, merely to please rather than for money. As in, “The material costs $4.25; my labor is gratis”

2. gratuity—a tip, offered because the service has been, or is expected to be, pleasing.

3. gratitude—thankfulness, because of a feeling of being pleased. (The idea of thanks is most graphically seen in “gracias,” which comes from the same Latin root, and which is the Spanish word for “thank you.”

4. ingrdte—someone who feels or shows no gratitude or thankfulness, though any normal person would. Obviously a term of censure or contempt.

5. Ingratiate—to be especially and not quite sincerely pleasing, for the sake of winning someone’s favor; to get into someone’s good graces. An ingratiating person goes out of his way to please, not because he is devoted, but because he either has a psychological need to avoid conflict or because he has some ulterior motive. Psychoanalysts recognize that some excessively sweet or ingratiating personalities actually feel a great deal of hostility to the world—but this feeling is largely unconscious and rather than express it they go to the other extreme and may become practically self-abnegating. In a sense, they are trying to punish themselves—they are always sweet and kind and polite, yet look how they’re stepped on, imposed on, and mistreated! On the other hand, ingratiation may be a calculated technique for winning favor, and as such is not of course a symptom of neurotic behavior.

There are other common words with the same root. If you congratulate someone, you are saying, in effect, “I am pleased at your success—my pleasure goes together (con) with yours.” A grateful person is full of thanks, he is so well-pleased. If you feel gratified, you feel pleased with what has happened.

4. rub it out, O’Toole!

Deleterious, harmful to health, injurious, is from a Greek root from which the verb delete also stems. Delete means simply to erase, take out, as in “Let’s delete that word.” The noun is deletion. The connection in meaning is that normally one deletes what is harmful; but the verb delete has lost such connotation and is used quite neutrally.

5. about names

An ignominious act is infamous, shameful, scandalous, dishonorable, the sort that will bring public disgrace down upon you. You will see in the word the letters nomin, since ignominious comes from the Latin nomen, nominis, name. What has one’s name to do with disgrace? Ig is a Latin prefix with negative force—if you do something ignominious, you have gotten a bad name. The noun form is ignominy.

Nominate, nomenclature, nom de plume, cognomen, and nominal come from the same root, nomen, nominis, name.

1. nominate—place someone’s name up for election. A person so nominated may be called a nominee.

2. cognomen—y our last name. The cog (sometimes spelled con, as in congratulate, or col, as in collaborate) means together—your cognomen is the name you share together with the rest of your family.

3. nominal—in name only. If you call someone the nominal ruler of a country, you mean that he has the name of ruler, but someone else is really in power. If the price is nominal, or the salary is nominal, it is so low that, though we call it by the name of price or salary, it doesn’t compare with other prices or salaries. “There will be a nominal fee” means that just to be able to say we’ve collected a fee we’ll charge something, but it will be very little, and will not of course reflect the true value of the services. Or, we may say that Mr. Brown is nominally in charge of the school—that is, he has the name of principal, perhaps. Really we imply, someone else, perhaps the assistant principal, runs the institution.

4. nomenclature—a system of names. What you study biology, for example, you must become familiar with the names given to various classifications, for example phylum, species, primates, coelenterata, arthropoda, et cetera.

5. nom de plume—literally, pen name. This word has come to us through French, though the basic root is still the Latin nomen. Authors use a nom de plume, or a fictitious name which appears on their work, for various reasons: to forestall creditors, so their neighbors will not realize they don’t have an honest job, et cetera. Sinclair Lewis writes books for boys under the nom de plume of Tom Graham, adult fiction under his true name. Another term for nom de plume is pseudonym, literally a false name. You recognize the nym as our old Greek friend from homonym, synonym, anonymous, et cetera. Pseudo is from a Greek verb meaning to deceive, and can be used as a word in its own right with the significance of false or pretended (as in “Phrenology is a pseudo science”) or as a prefix, as in “pseudointellectual,” “pseudoscientific,” et cetera. Movie stars often travel under pseudonyms to deceive the autograph hounds and avoid the sycophants.

Pseudonym and nom de plume should not be confused with alias. For private reasons of their own, honest people prefer to use a fictitious name—in writing, a nom de plume, on other occasions a pseudonym. But only a criminal uses an alias, and then solely for criminal purposes or to throw the police off his scent.

6. patiently sitting

Insidious is from the Latin insidiae, an ambush. Picture soldiers waiting in a well-concealed ambush, then suddenly pouncing on the surprised enemy, and you have a good idea of the connotation of insidious. Anything insidious sneaks up on you and catches you unaware—usually when it’s too late for you to protect yourself. In a word, you’re trapped—and insidious vices, insidious diseases, insidious persuasions are so subtle, so camouflaged, that before you realize what has happened, or how, you’re ensnared.

Insidious is related to many other words containing the letters sid, sed, or sess. (The Latin noun insidiae, an ambush, is derived from the Latin verb sedeo, to sit, which has the forms sedeo, sedere, sessi, sessum—the soldiers sit patiently in an ambush waiting for their prey.) A sedentary occupation, such as that of a writer, a bookkeeper, a clerk, et cetera, is one in which the person spends his days sitting quietly instead of doing what nature intended him to do—get out in the open and exercise his large muscles. Laborers lead a much more natural life than sedentary workers, hence they sleep better, rarely suffer from insomnia, eat well, and do not look cadaverous. Perhaps that is why they are paid so little—there are many other compensations in their work.

Sediment is the matter that settles to the bottom of a liquid—it sits down at the bottom.

To reside is to sit in your home, etymologically speaking.

If one law supersedes another, it sits above (super) it—that is, it takes its place. Realizing that supersede derives from sedeo, to sit, you will never be tempted to misspell it supercede. This, incidentally is the only word in the entire language that ends in the letters sede.

When you preside over a meeting, you sit before (pre) the members or audience. President comes from the same root.

When Congress is in session, it is sitting to discuss laws, appropriations, and, at least in 1949, how to annoy the President.

USING THE WORDS: III

Can you pronounce the words?

1. attenuate

a-TEN-yoo-ayt

2. extenuate

eks-TEN-yoo-ayt

*3. gratis

GRAY-tis

4. gratuity

gra-TOO-i-tee

5. ingrate

IN-grayt

6. ingratiating

in-GRAY-shee-ay-ting

7. delete

de-LEET

8. deletion

de-LEE-shun

*9. ignominy

IG-no-mi-nee

10. nominee

nom-i-NEE

*11. nomenclature

NO-men-klay-choor

12. nom de plume

nome de PLOOM

13. nominal

NOM-in-’l

*14. pseudonym

SOO-do-nim

*15. sedentary

SED-en-ta-ree

16. supersede

soo-per-SEED

*17. alias

AY-lee-is

*18. cognomen

kog-NO-men

Can you work with the words? (I)

Match words and definitions.

1. attenuating

a. justifying

2. extenuating

b. taking precedence over

3. ingratiating

c. excessively pleasant

4. sedentary

d. without charge

5. superseding

e. robbing of force

6. gratis

f. not physically active

7. nominal

g. in name only

KEY: 1—e, 2—a, 3—c, 4—f, 5—b, 6—d, 7—g

Can you work with the words? (II)

1. gratuity

a. classification by name

2. ingrate

b. pen name

3. deletion

c. removal from the record

4. nominee

d. fictitious name for criminal purposes

5. nom de plume

e. fictitious name

6. pseudonym

f. one whose name has been offered

7. ignominy

g. unappreciative person

8. nomenclature

h. tip

9. alias

i. shame, disgrace

KEY: 1—h, 2—g, 3—c, 4—f, 5—b, 6—e, 7—i, 8—a, 9—d

Can you work with the words? (III)

1. tenuous

a. last name

2. gratuitous

b. wily, ensnaring

3. deleterious

c. slight, subtle

4. ignominious

d. disgraceful

5. insidious

e. uncalled-for and offensive

6. cognomen

f. harmful

KEY: 1—c, 2—e, 3—f, 4—d, 5—b, 6—a

Do you understand the words?

React quickly to each question.

Can you recall the words? (I)

Here I intend to test your ability to think of any of the words we have studied in this chapter. Review first, if you think such action necessary.

Can you recall the words? (II)

Can you recall the words? (III)

Can you recognize roots?

Fill in the meaning of each root.

CHAPTER REVIEW

Can you recognize the words?

Check the word which most closely fits each definition.

1. Deviating from the rule:

(a) anomalous, (b) ominous, (c) heterogeneous

2. Of one kind:

(a) heterogeneous, (b) homogeneous, (c) tenuous

3. Thin, insubstantial:

(a) tenuous, (b) scurrilous, (c) insidious

4. Uncalled-for:

(a) deleterious, (b) scurrilous, (c) gratuitous

5. Pain-soothing:

(a) analgesic, (b) anesthetic, (c) esthetic

6. Of different kinds:

(a) homeopathic, (b) heterogeneous, (c) homogeneous

7. Before the flood:

(a) antediluvian, (b) anterior, (c) antiseptic

8. Insinuating oneself in another’s good graces:

(a) extenuating, (b) ingratiating, (c) superseding

9. Erasure:

(a) deletion, (b) nomenclature, (c) ingrate

10. False name for the purpose of criminal deception:

(a) pseudonym, (b) nom deplume, (c) alias

11. Disgrace:

(a) ignominy, (b) nominee, (c) nominal

12. Family name:

(a) pseudonym, (b) cognomen, (c) nom deplume

KEY: 1—a, 2—b, 3—a, 4—c, 5—a, 6—b, 7—a, 8—b, 9—a, 10—c, 11—a, 12—b

In this final week of your work you have covered approximately 165 new words and over forty Greek and Latin roots. Are you clear on everything you’ve learned? The Achievement Test for the third week, which follows immediately, will show you how well you have done.

18

HOW TO CHECK
YOUR THIRD WEEK’S PROGRESS

I—ROOTS

Directions: In the table below you will find a number of roots we have discussed, with examples of their use. It is your job to fill in the meaning of each one.

II—SAME OR OPPOSITE?

Directions: If each pair of words is similar in meaning, check S, if more nearly opposite, check O.

III—SAME OR OPPOSITE?

Directions: If each pair of words is similar in meaning, check S; if more nearly opposite, check O.

IV—RECALL A WORD

Directions: Write the word we have studied that best fits each definition. The initial letter is offered to guide your thinking.

V—MATCHING

Match words and definitions.

WORDS

DEFINITIONS

1. alleviating

a. excessively polite

2. cavalier (adj.)

b. gaunt, corpselike

3. vacillating

c. noisy

4. obsequious

d. poisonous

5. querulous

e. high-handed

6. obstreperous

f. sad

7. innocuous

g. nagging

8. cadaverous

h. harmless

9. dolorous

i. soothing

10. noxious

j. constantly changing

VI—MORE MATCHING

Again match words and definitions.

WORDS

DEFINITIONS

1. deleterious

a. of several kinds

2. anomalous

b. threatening

3. ominous

c. uncalled-for

4. homogeneous

d. irregular

5. heterogeneous

e. pain-soothing

6. tenuous

f. wily

7. gratuitous

g. harmful

8. insidious

h. pleasing to the sense of beauty

9. analgesic

i. slight

10. esthetic

j. of one kind

VII—CHOOSE THE RIGHT WORD

Check the word that most closely fits each definition.

1. Words that sound alike:

(a) antonyms, (b) synonyms, (c) homonyms

2. Very old-fashioned:

(a) antediluvian, (b) posthumous, (c) antiseptic

3. Hostility:

(a) scurrility, (b) antipathy, (c) homeopathy

4. Without charge:

(a) gratuitous, (b) gratis, (c) nominal

5. Pen name:

(a) alias, (b) pseudonym, (c) nom de plume

6. Unemotional:

(a) bovine, (b) carnivorous, (c) omnivorous

7. Done in secret:

(a) ephemeral, (b) evanescent, (c) clandestine

8. A feeling of well-being:

(a) euphoria, (b) eulogy, (c) euthanasia

9. A statement intended to soothe:

(a) bromide, (b) euphemism, (c) anodyne

10. To be self-sacrificing:

(a) vegetate, (b) recapitulate, (c) self-abnegate

VIII—PRONOUNCE A WORD

Directions: Check the correct pronunciation.

1. cacophony: a. ka-KOFF-o-nee, b. KAK-a-foe-nee.

2. parsimony: a. par-SIM-o-nee, b. PAR-si-moe-nee.

3. feline: a. FEE-lyne, b. FELL-in.

4. omnivorous: a. om-ni-VOR-ous, b. om-NIV-er-us.

5. incarnate (adj.): a. IN-kar-nayt, b. in-KAR-nit.

6. dolorous: a. DOLL-er-us, b. do-LORE-us.

7. decadent: a. DECK-a-dent, b. de-KAY-dent.

8. ignominy: a. ig-NOM-in-ee, b. IG-no-mi-nee.

9. homogeneity: a. ho-mo-je-NEE-i-tee, b. ho-mo-JEE-nee-i-tee.

10. homeopathy: a. HOE-me-o-path-ee, b. hoe-me-OP-a-thee.

11. gratis: a. GRAY-tis, b. GRAT-is.

12. sedentary: a. SED-en-ter-ree, b. se-DEN-te-ree.

13. alias: a. AY-lee-is, b. a-LYE-is.

IX—CHANGE A WORD

Directions: Write the required part of speech.

SCORING

You have been asked for 103 responses. Allowing once again for normal human frailty, you may consider your learning successful if you came through with a score of 85 or better (each answer credits one point).

Record your score in the appropriate space below and, referring to pages 163 and 320, copy your scores in the preceding achievement tests. You will then have a total comparison chart of all three weeks of your work.

SCORES

First week’s Achievement Test (page 163)——out of 110

Second week’s Achievement Test (page 320)——out of 110

Third week’s Achievement Test (page 440)———out of 103

BRIEF INTERMISSION FOURTEEN:
FINAL CHECK ON
YOUR PRONUNCIATION,
GRAMMAR, AND SPELLING

TEST I—YOUR PRONUNCIATION

Instructions: Check the preferable pronunciation of each of the following words.

TEST II—YOUR GRAMMAR

Instructions: Check the word in parentheses which, in your considered opinion, makes each sentence grammatically defensible.

1. Everyone seems to be happy except (a-I, b-me).

2. (a-Lay, b-Lie) your books on the table.

3. The child (a-lay, b-laid) asleep all morning.

4. Our plans have (a-laid, b-lain) idle for many years.

5. Neither of us (a-is, b-are) very happy about your decision.

6. He is one man (a-who, b-whom) I believe can help you.

7. She may not look it, but she’s a full inch taller than (a-I, b-me).

8. Just between you and (a-I, b-me), he’s pulling your leg.

9. If memory serves me, that package was addressed to my wife and (a-I, b-me).

10. I (a-can, b-can’t) hardly believe that he would do such a thing!

11. We (a-stood, b-stayed) home as long as we could.

12. (a-Leave, b-Let) me help you.

13. Mary’s brother and father (a-is, b-are) waiting to be discharged from the Navy.

14. Either Frances or Rhoda (a-is, b-are) sure to be at home today.

15. The destroyer as well as the corvette (a-was, b-were) buffeted by the high seas.

16. You should (a-have, b-of) known better.

17. They (a-hung, b-hanged) the murderer at dawn.

18. Was it (a-he, b-him) you were thinking about?

19. It is I who (a-am, b-is) your only true friend.

20. He is one of those men who (a-is, b-are) eternally finding fault.

21. Do you understand the (a-principle, b-principal) of the atomic bomb?

22. The atomic bomb has had a tremendous (a-affect, b-effect) on the world.

TEST III—YOUR SPELLING

Instructions: Of the following twenty-five words, only twelve are spelled correctly. Check the dozen that contain the proper combination of letters and rewrite those which you believe contain errors.

19

HOW TO CHECK YOUR
TOTAL ACHIEVEMENT

NOW that you have come to the end of your work, you will be interested, I imagine, to discover how well you’ve done.

To give you this information, I have made a random selection of ten words from each of the thirteen vocabulary chapters in the book and will use these 130 words to put your learning to the acid test.

You have made creditable scores, let us assume, in the three big achievement tests you’ve taken. These tests for the most part explored your understanding of the words you had learned in each section—and of course understanding is basic to remembering and using the words.

The question is, at this final point, whether the words you have learned have become so active a part of your everyday thinking, speaking, and writing vocabulary that you can recall any I may ask for if I provide you with a brief definition of each one.

That’s the final, acid test of complete and successful learning.

Once again (and for the last time), I will leave it to you whether to review before you go into the test.

FINAL TEST

Directions: Write the word we have studied that best fits each definition. The initial letter is offered to guide your thinking.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

SCORING

In a difficult test of this nature, and one which covers an entire course of weeks of learning, any score which shows 80 per cent success or better is more than satisfactory. So, counting one point for each correct response, consider your learning successful if you came through with a score of 100 or more out of 130.

20

HOW TO KEEP
BUILDING YOUR VOCABULARY

YOUNGSTERS at graduation exercises in elementary and high schools go through a certain unpleasant shock right after they receive their diplomas.

To them, this is the last day—they’re finished, they’re done, they wish to hear no more about school or studying or books or teachers.

And then the important (and generally self-important) speaker of the evening tells them in no uncertain terms that this is not the end—not by a long shot. It is only the beginning; that’s why it is called “commencement” exercises, et cetera, et cetera, the poor kids feeling more and more miserable as he goes on and on.

Of course the speaker is right—no educative process is ever the end; it is always the beginning of more education, more learning, more living.

And that is the case here. What has happened to you as a result of your reaction to the material and suggestions in this book is only the beginning of your development. To stop increasing your vocabulary is to stop your intellectual growth. You will wish, I am sure, to continue growing intellectually so long as you remain alive. And with the great momentum that your three weeks of hard work have given you, continuing will not be at all difficult.

May I offer, as a sort of summary of all I have said throughout the book, a recapitulation of the steps you will want to keep taking so that your vocabulary (and, synonymously, your mental hiorizons) can continue growing and growing?

STEP ONE. You must become actively receptive to new words.

Words won’t come chasing after you—you must train yourself to be on a constant lookout, in your reading and listening, for a any words that other people know and you don’t.

STEP TWO. You must read more.

As an adult, you will find most of the sources of your supply of new words in books and magazines. Is your reading today largely restricted to a quick perusal of the daily newspaper? Then you will have to change your habits. If your aim is to have a better vocabulary than the next person, you will have to make the time to read at least one book and several magazines every week. Not just this week and next week—but every week for the rest of your life. I have never met a single person who possessed a rich vocabulary who was not also an omnivorous reader.

STEP THREE. You must learn to add to your own vocabulary the new words you meet in your reading.

When you see an unfamiliar word in a book or magazine, do not skip over it impatiently. Instead, pause for a moment and say it over to yourself—get used to its sound and appearance. Then puzzle out its possible meaning in the context of the sentence. Whether you come to the right conclusion or not, whether indeed you are able to come to any intelligent conclusion at all, is of no importance. What is important is that you are, by this process, becoming superconscious of the word. As a result, you will suddenly notice that this very word pops up unexpectedly again and again in all your reading—for you now have a mind-set for it. And of course after you’ve seen it a few times, you will know fairly accurately not only what it means but the many ways in which it can be used.

STEP FOUR. You must open your mind to new ideas.

Every word you know is the translation of an idea. And when your vocabulary stops growing, your mind also stops growing—then your ideas, to put it bluntly, are in danger of becoming dull, static, and uninteresting. Think for a few minutes of the areas of human knowledge which may possibly be unknown to you—psychology, psychoanalysis, semantics, science, art, music, or whatever. Then attack one of these areas methodically—by reading books in the field. In every field, from the simplest to the most abstruse, there are several books written for the average, untrained lay reader which will give you both a good grasp of the subject and at the same time add immeasurably to your vocabulary. College students have tremendous vocabularies because they are required to expose themselves constantly to new areas of learning. You must do the same.

STEP FIVE. You must set a goal.

If you do nothing about your vocabulary, you will learn, just by the natural process of staying alive, about fifty new words in the next twelve months. By conscious effort you can learn several thousand. Set yourself a goal of discovering, and absorbing, five to ten new words every day. This may sound ambitious—but you will discover as soon as you start actively looking for new words in your reading, and actively doing reading of a more challenging type, that new words are all around you—that is, if you’re ready for them. And understand this: vocabulary building snowballs. The results of each new day’s search will be greater and greater—once you provide the necessary initial push, the first important momentum.