tion
cannot give one the sense of a popular word for all occasions of its
use, it is an operation of great delicacy. Fixity of meaning in the use
of single words is contrary to the genius of the common vocabulary;
since each word, whilst having a certain predominant character, must be
used with many shades of significance, in order to express the different
thoughts and feelings of multitudes of men in endlessly diversified
situations; and its force, whenever it is used, is qualified by the
other words with which it is connected in a sentence, by its place in
the construction of the sentence, by the emphasis, or by the pitch of
its pronunciation compared with the other words.

Clearly, the requisite of a scientific language, 'that every word shall
have one meaning well defined,' is too exacting for popular language;
because the other chief requisite of scientific language cannot be
complied with, 'that there be no important meaning without a name.'
'Important meanings,' or what seem such, are too numerous to be thus
provided for; and new ones are constantly arising, as each of us pursues
his business or his pleasure, his meditations or the excursions of his
fancy. It is impossible to have a separate term for each meaning; and,
therefore, the terms we have must admit of variable application.

An attempt to introduce new words is generally disgusting. Few men have
mastered the uses of half the words already to be found in our classics.
Much more would be lost than gained by doubling the dictionary. It is
true that, at certain stages in the growth of a people, a need may be
widely felt for the adoption of new words: such, in our own case, was
the period of the Tudors and early Stuarts. Many fresh words, chiefly
from the Latin, then appeared in books, were often received with
reprobation and derision, sometimes disappeared again, sometimes
established their footing in the language: see _The Art of English
Poetry_ (ascribed to Puttenham), Book III. chap. 4, and Ben Jonson's
_Poetaster_, Act. V. sc. I. Good judges did not know whether a word was
really called for: even Shakespeare thought 'remuneration' and
'accommodate' ridiculous. But such national exigencies rarely arise; and
in our own time great authors distinguish themselves by the plastic
power with which they make common words convey uncommon meanings.

Fluid, however, as popular language is and ought to be, it may be
necessary for the sake of clear exposition, or to