AMERICANISM, a term first used by John Witherspoon, president of Princeton university, in 1 781, designates (a) any word or combination of words which, taken into the English language in the United States, has not gained acceptance in Eng land, or, if accepted, has retained its sense of foreignness; and (b) any word or combination of words which, becoming archaic in England, has continued in good usage in the United States. The first class is the larger and has the longer history. The earli est settlers in Virginia and New England, confronted by plants and animals that were unfamiliar to them, either borrowed the Indian names or invented names of their own.
Examples are afforded by raccoon (1608), chinkapin (1608), opossum (161 o) and squash 2) among Indian words, and by bull-frog, canvasback, cat-bird and live-oak among in ventions. The former tended. to take anglicized forms. Thus the Indian isquontersquash (at least, that is how the early chroni clers recorded it) became squantersquash and was then reduced to squash, and otchock became woodchuck. Many other words came in as the pioneers gained familiarity with the Indian life. Such words as hominy, moccasin, pone, tapioca and succotash remain everyday Americanisms.
The archaisms, of course, showed themselves more slowly. They had to go out of use in England before their survival in America was noticeable. But by the beginning of the i8th cen tury there was already a considerable body of them, and all through that century they increased. The English language in Great Britain, chiefly under the influence of pedantry in the age of Anne, was changing rapidly, but in America it was holding to its old forms. There was very little fresh emigration to the Colo nies, and their own people seldom visited England. Thus by the end of the century "I guess" was already an Americanism, though it had been in almost universal use in England in Shakes peare's day. So, too, with many other verbs : to wilt, to whittle, to fellowship and to approbate; and with not a few adjectives: burly, catty-cornered, likely and clever (in the sense of ami able) ; and with multitudes of nouns: cesspool,, greenhorn, cord wood, jeans, flap-jack, bay-window, swingle-tree, muss (in the sense of a row), stock (for cattle) and fall (for autumn). A few of these archaisms, in late years, have been taken back into English usage by the force of American example.
Meanwhile, American English had begun to borrow words, chiefly nouns, from the non-English settlers, and to develop many new words of its own. To the former class the Dutch con tributed cruller, cold-slaw, cookie, scow, boss, smearcase and Santa Claus, and the French contributed gopher, prairie, chow der, carry-all and bureau (a chest of drawers). Other contribu tions came from the Germans of Pennsylvania, the Spaniards of the south-west and negro slaves. The native coinages were large in number, and full of boldness and novelty. To this period belong, for example, backwoods, hoe-cake, pop-corn, land-slide, shell-road, half-breed, hired-girl, spelling-bee, moss-back, crazy quilt, stamping-ground and cat-boat. These words were all made of the common materials of English, but there was something in them that was redolent of a pioneer people and a new world. In their coinage the elegances were disdained ; the thing aimed at was simply vividness. At the same time, verbs were made out of nouns, nouns out of verbs and adjectives out of both.
In 1789 Benjamin Franklin, who had lived in England, de nounced to advocate, to progress and to oppose as barbarisms, but all of them are good American today, and even good Eng lish. Noah Webster, the lexicographer, gave his imprimatur to to appreciate (in value) ; to eventuate was popularized by Gouverneur Morris ; and no less a hero than Washington is said to have launched to derange. Many inventions of that daring era have succumbed to pedagogical criticism, e.g., to happily, to compromit and to homologize. But others equally harsh have gradually gained acceptance, e.g., to placate and to deputize. And with them have come in a vast number of characteristic American nouns, e.g., breadstuffs, mileage, balance (in the sense of remainder) and elevator (a place for storing grain).
Thus the American dialect of English was firmly established by the time the Republic was well started, and in the half-century following it departed more and more from standard English. The settlement of the West, by taking large numbers of young men beyond the pale of urbane society, made for grotesque looseness in speech. Neologisms of the most extravagant sorts arose by the thousand, and many of them worked their way back to the East. During the two decades before the Civil War everyday American became almost unintelligible to an English man ; every English visitor marked and denounced its vagaries. It was bold and lawless in its vocabulary, careless of grammatical niceties, and further disfigured by a drawling manner of speech. The congressional debates of the time were full of its phrases; soon they were to show themselves in the national literature.
But the spirit of the language, and of the American people no less, was against such reforms. They were attacked on philo logical grounds by such iconoclasts as Thomas R. Lounsbury; they were reduced to vanity by the unconquerable speech habits of the folk. Under the very noses of the purists a new and vigor ous American slang came into being, and simultaneously the common speech began to run amuck. That common speech is to-day almost lawless. As Ring Lardner reports it—and he reports it very accurately—it seems destined in a few genera tions to dispose altogether of the few inflexions that remain in English. "Me and her woulda went" will never, perhaps, force its way into the grammar-books, but it is used daily, or some thing like it, by a large part of the people of the United States, and the rest know precisely what it means.
On higher levels the language of the Americans is more decor ous, but even there it is a genuinely living speech, taking in loan words with vast hospitality and incessantly manufacturing neo logisms of its own. The argot of sport enriches it almost daily. It runs to brilliantly vivid tropes. It is disdainful of grammatical pruderies. In the face of a new situation the American shows a far greater linguistic resourcefulness and daring than the Eng lishman. Movie is obviously better than cinema, just as cow catcher is better than plough and job-holder is better than public servant. The English seldom devise any thing as pungent as rubber-neck, ticket-scalper, lame-duck, pork-barrel, bootlegger or steam-roller (in its political sense). Such exhilarating novel ties are produced in the United States every day, and large num bers of them come into universal use, and gradually take on literary dignity. They are opposed violently, but they prevail. The visiting Englishman finds them very difficult. They puzzle him even more than do American peculiarities of pronunciation.
The common vocabularies in England and the United States show important differences in the meaning of words. Here are a few examples: American English ashcan . . . . . . . dust-bin ash-cart dust-cart ashman dustman backyard garden baggage luggage baggage-car luggage-van ballast (railroad) metal bath-robe dressing-gown beet . . . . . . . beet-root bid (on a contract) . . . tender billboard . . . . . . hoarding brakeman . . . . . . brakesman bumper (car) . . . . . . buffer calendar (court) . . . . . cause-list campaign (political) . . canvass can (noun) . . . . . . tin candy . . . . . . . . sweets car (railroad) . . . . carriage, van or wagon carom . (billiards) . . . . . cannon catalog (university) . . . . calendar American English checkers (game) draughts cheese-cloth butter-muslin chicken-yard f owl-run chief of police chief constable city editor (newspaper) . . chief reporter city ordinance by-law clipping (newspaper) . . . cutting coal coals coal-oil paraffin collar-button stud commutation ticket . . . season ticket corn . . . . . . . maize or Indian corn counterfeiter coiner cow-catcher . . . . . plough cracker . . . . . . . biscuit crazy-bone . . . . . funny-bone cross-tie . . . . . . sleeper crystal (watch) . . . . watch-glass daylight time . . . . . summer time derby (hat) . • . . . bowler dime novel. . . . . . penny dreadful district (political) . . . . division druggist . . . . . . . chemist drug-store . . . . . . chemist's shop drummer traveller dry goods store draper's shop editorial (noun) leader elevator . . . . . . lift elevator boy liftman enlisted man private soldier express train (subway) . . non-stop train fire department fire brigade fish-dealer fishmonger floorwalker shopwalker fraternal order friendly society freight goods freight car goods wagon frog (railway) crossing-plate garters (men's) sock-suspenders gasoline petrol grade (railway) gradient grain corn grain broker corn factor groceries . . . . . . . stores hardware dealer . . . . . ironmonger headliner (vaudeville) . . . topliner hodcarrier . . . . . . . hodman hog-pen . . . . . . . piggery hood (automobile) . . . . bonnet hospital (private) . . . . . nursing-home huckster . . . . . . . coster (monger) hunting . . . . . . . shooting Indian . . . . . . . . Red Indian instalment business . . . . credit trade instalment plan . . . . . hire-purchase plan internal revenue inland revenue janitor caretaker laborer . . . . . . . navvy legal holiday bank holiday letter-box pillar-box letter-carrier postman • locomotive engineer . . . engine driver long-distance call trunk call lumber deals lumber-yard timber-yard mad angry molasses treacle notions small wares office-holder public servant orchestra (seats) . . . . stalls outbuildings (farm) . . . offices American English parcels room left-luggage room patrolman (police) . . . , constable peanut . . . . groundnut, monkey-nut pen point nib pitcher jug poorhouse workhouse postpaid post-free potpie pie prepaid carriage-paid press (printing) machine pressroom machine-room program (of a meeting) . . agenda public school board-school railroad man railway servant Rhine wine hock roadbed (railroad) . . . permanent way roast (of meat) joint roll call division rooster cock round-trip ticket return ticket saloon public-house shirtwaist blouse shoe shine boot polish shoestring boot-lace sick i11 sidewalk footpath or pavement sight-seeing bus charabanc silver (collectively) . . . plate sled sledge soft drinks minerals spigot . . . . . . . . tap sponge (surgical) . . . . . wipe stem-winder . . . . . . keyless watch stockholder . . . . . . shareholder stocks . . . . . . . , shares store fixtures . . . . . . shop-fittings street railway . . . . . . tramway street car . . . . . . . tramcar suspenders (men's) . . . . braces switch (noun, railway) . . . points switch (verb) . . . . . . shunt taxes (municipal) . . . . . rates taxpayer (local) . . . . . ratepayer tenderloin (beef) . . . . . under-cut or fillet tenpins . . . . . . . ninepins thumbtack . . . . . . drawing-pin ticket-office . . . . . . booking-office trained nurse . . . . . . hospital nurse or nurs ing sister transom (door) . . . . . fanlight trolley car . . . . . . . tram-car truck (vehicle) . . . . . lorry undershirt . . . . . . . vest warden (of a prison) . . . . governor wash-rag . . . . . . . facecloth washstand . . . . . . . washhand-stand wastebasket wastepaper-basket witness stand . . . . . witness box Of late the increase of travel and other intercommunication between England and America has tended to halt the differentia tion of the two dialects. It was more marked, perhaps, before the World War than since. But if it ever vanishes altogether the fact will mark a victory for American.
The American "movie" floods England (and the rest of the English-speaking world) with American neologisms, but there is very little movement in the other direction. Thus the tail begins to wag the dog. How far the change has gone may be observed in Australia. There a cockneyfied pronunciation holds out, but the American vocabulary is increasingly triumphant. In C anada it long ago overcame the last vestiges of opposition.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.--There is no satisfactory dictionary of Americanisms.Bibliography.--There is no satisfactory dictionary of Americanisms.
The best is Richard H. Thornton's American Glossary (1912) , but it is based wholly on written records and is thus incomplete. George Philip Krapp's The English Language in America (1925) is valuable to the student of American pronunciation, and contains much miscel laneous matter of interest, but there are gaps in it, and the author opposes his own evidence by arguing that English and American show few important differences. In A Comprehensive Guide to Good English (1927), by the same author, many Americanisms are listed, but the collection is by no means exhaustive. Many are also listed in the American edition of The Pocket Oxford Dictionary of Current English (1927), the American editor of which is George van Santvoord. Some valuable observations upon American pronunciation are in The Pro nunciation of Standard English in America, by Krapp (1919) , and in A Dictionary of English Pronunciation with American Variants, by H. E. Palmer, J. Victor Martin and F. G. Blandford (1926) . An extensive bibliography is in H. L. Mencken's The American Language, 3rd ed. (1923). In 1925 Dr. Louise Pound, of the University of Nebraska, began the publication of a monthly, American Speech (Baltimore) . It became a quarterly in 1927. (H. L. M.)