INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.
our mother-tongue, or supposed by the speakers (often quite erroneously) to express something not capable of just denotation by any English term. A certain percentage of such words have been carried to England by the constant reflux to their native shore of Anglo-Indians, who in some degree imbue with their notions and phraseology the circles from which they had gone forth. This effect has been still more promoted by the currency of a vast mass of literature, of all qualities and for all ages, dealing with Indian subjects; as well as by the regular appearance, for many years past, of Indian correspondence in English newspapers, insomuch that a considerable number of the expressions in question have not only become familiar in sound to English ears, but have become naturalised in the English language, and are meeting with ample recognition in the great Dictionary edited by Dr. Murray at Oxford.
Of words that seem to have been admitted to full franchise, we may give examples in curry, toddy, veranda, cheroot, loot, nahdb, teapoy, sepoy, cowry; and of others familiar enough to the English ear, though hardly yet received into citizenship, compound, hatta, pucka, chowry, baboo, mahout, aya, nautch,[1] first-chop, competition-wallah, griffin, &c. But beyond these two classes of words, received within the last century or so, and gradually, into half or whole recognition, there are a good many others, long since fully assimilated, which really originated in the adoption of an Indian word, or the modification of an Indian proper name. Such words are the three quoted at the beginning of these remarks, chintz, calico, gingham, also shawl, bamboo, pagoda, typhoon, monsoon, mandarin, palanquin, [2]&c., and I may mention among further examples which may perhaps surprise my readers, the names of three of the boats of a man-of-war, viz. the cutter, the jolly-boat, and the dingy, as all (probably) of Indian origin.[3]Even phrases of a different character — slang indeed, but slang generally supposed to be vernacular as well as vulgar — e.g. ‘that is the cheese’;[3] or supposed to be vernacular and profane — e.g. ‘I don't care a dam’[3] — are in reality, however vulgar they may be, neither vernacular nor profane, but phrases turning upon innocent Hindustani vocables.
We proposed also, in our Glossary, to deal with a selection of those administrative terms, which are in such familiar and quotidian use as to form part of the common Anglo-Indian stock, and to trace all (so far as possible) to their true origin — a matter on which, in regard to many of the words, those who hourly use them are profoundly ignorant — and to follow them down by quotation from their earliest occurrence in literature.
A particular class of words are those indigenous terms which have been adopted in scientific nomenclature, botanical and zoological. On these Mr. Burnell remarks : — "The first Indian botanical names were chiefly introduced by Garcia de Orta (Colloquios, printed at Goa in 1563), C. d'Acosta (Tractado, Burgos, 1578), and Rhede van Drakenstein (Hortus Malabaricus, Amsterdam, 1682). The Malay names were chiefly introduced by Rumphius (Herbarium Am-
- ↑ Nautch, it may be urged, is admitted to full franchise, being used by so eminent a writer as Mr. Browning. But the fact that his use is entirely misuse, seems to justify the classification in the text (see Gloss., s.v.). A like remark applies to compound. See for the tremendous fiasco made in its intended use by a most intelligent lady novelist, the last quotation s.v. in Gloss.
- ↑ Gloss., s.v. (note p. 659, col. a), contains quotations from the Vulgate of the passage in Canticles iii. 9, regarding King Solomon's ferculum of Lebanon cedar. I have to thank an old friend for pointing out that the word palanquin has, in this passage, received solemn sanction by its introduction into the Revised Version.
- ↑ 3.0 3.1 3.2 See these words in GLOSS.
