英语词源字典 - 在线词源网站

acorn: acorn: [OE] Acorn has no etymological connection with oak; its nearest linguistic relative in English is probably acre. The Old English word was æcern, which may well have derived from æcer ‘open land’ (the related Middle High German ackeran referred to beech mast as well as acorns, and Gothic akran developed more widely still, to mean simply ‘fruit’).

There are cognate words in other, non- Germanic, Indo-European languages, such as Russian yagoda ‘berry’ and Welsh aeron ‘fruits’. Left to develop on its own, æcern would have become modern English achern, but the accidental similarity of oak and corn have combined to reroute its pronunciation.
=> acre
aeroplane: aeroplane: [19] The prefix aero- comes ultimately from Greek āér ‘air’, but many of the terms containing it (such as aeronaut and aerostat) reached English via French. This was the case, too, with aeroplane, in the sense of ‘heavier-than-air flying machine’. The word was first used in English in 1873 (30 years before the Wright brothers’ first flight), by D S Brown in the Annual Report of the Aeronautical Society – he refers vaguely to an aeroplane invented by ‘a Frenchman’.

The abbreviated form plane followed around 1908. (An earlier, and exclusively English, use of the word aeroplane was in the sense ‘aerofoil, wing’; this was coined in the 1860s, but did not long survive the introduction of the ‘aircraft’ sense.) Aeroplane is restricted in use mainly to British English (and even there now has a distinctly old-fashioned air). The preferred term in American English is airplane, a refashioning of aeroplane along more ‘English’ lines which is first recorded from 1907.
=> air
agoraphobia: agoraphobia: [19] Agoraphobia – fear of open spaces or, more generally, of simply being out of doors – is first referred to in an 1873 issue of the Journal of Mental Science; this attributes the term to Dr C Westphal, and gives his definition of it as ‘the fear of squares or open places’. This would be literally true, since the first element in the word represents Greek agorá ‘open space, typically a market place, used for public assemblies’ (the most celebrated in the ancient world was the Agora in Athens, rivalled only by the Forum in Rome).

The word agorá came from ageirein ‘assemble’, which is related to Latin grex ‘flock’, the source of English gregarious. Agoraphobia was not the first of the -phobias. That honour goes to hydrophobia in the mid 16th century. But that was an isolated example, and the surge of compounds based on Greek phóbos ‘fear’ really starts in the 19th century.

At first it was used for symptoms of physical illness (photophobia ‘abnormal sensitivity to light’ 1799), for aversions to other nationalities (Gallophobia 1803; the synonymous Francophobia does not appear until 1887), and for facetious formations (dustophobia, Robert Southey, 1824), and the range of specialized psychological terms familiar today does not begin to appear until the last quarter of the century (CLAUSTROPHOBIA 1879, acrophobia ‘fear of heights’ from Greek akros ‘topmost’ – see ACROBAT – 1892).
=> aggregate, allegory, gregarious, segregate
alphabet: alphabet: [15] This word is based on the names of the first two letters of the Greek alphabet, alpha and beta, standing for the whole. It derives from Greek alphabētos, via Latin alphabētum. When it first came into English, purists tried to insist that it should be reserved for the Greek alphabet, and that the English alphabet should be referred to by the term ABC (which had been lexicalized in various forms, such as abece, apece, and absee, since the late 13th century), but, like most such prescriptive demands, this was a waste of breath and ink.
aluminium: aluminium: [19] Aluminium comes from a coinage by the English chemist Sir Humphry Davy, who discovered the metal. His first suggestion was alumium, which he put forward in Volume 98 of the Transactions of the Royal Society 1808: ‘Had I been so fortunate as … to have procured the metallic substances I was in search of, I should have proposed for them the names of silicium, alumium, zirconium, and glucium’.

He based it on Latin alūmen ‘alum’ (alum is a sulphate of aluminium, and the word alum, a 14th-century borrowing from French, derives ultimately from alūmen; alumina is an oxide of aluminium, and the word alumina is a modern Latin formation based on alūmen, which entered English at the end of the 18th century); and alūmen may be linked with Latin alūta ‘skins dried for making leather, using alum’.

Davy soon changed his mind, however, and in 1812 put forward the term aluminum – which remains the word used in American English to this day. British English, though, has preferred the form aluminium, which was mooted contemporaneously with aluminum on grounds of classical ‘correctness’: ‘Aluminium, for so we shall take the liberty of writing the word, in preference to aluminum, which has a less classical sound’, Quarterly Review 1812.
=> alum
anaconda: anaconda: [18] The term anaconda has a confused history. It appears to come from Sinhalese henakandayā, literally ‘lightningstem’, which referred to a type of slender green snake. This was anglicized as anaconda by the British naturalist John Ray, who in a List of Indian serpents 1693 described it as a snake which ‘crushed the limbs of buffaloes and yoke beasts’.

And the 1797 edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica notes it as a ‘very large and terrible snake [from Ceylon] which often devours the unfortunate traveller alive’. However, in the early 19th century the French zoologist François Marie Daudin for no known reason transferred the name to a large South American snake of the boa family, and that application has since stuck.
angle: angle: There have been two distinct words angle in English. The older is now encountered virtually only in its derivatives, angler and angling, but until the early 19th century an angle was a ‘fishing hook’ (or, by extension, ‘fishing tackle’). It entered the language in the Old English period, and was based on Germanic *angg- (source also of German angel ‘fishing tackle’).

An earlier form of the word appears to have been applied by its former inhabitants to a fishhook-shaped area of Schleswig, in the Jutland peninsula; now Angeln, they called it Angul, and so they themselves came to be referred to as Angles. They brought their words with them to England, of course, and so both the country and the language, English, now contain a reminiscence of their fishhooks. Angle in the sense of a ‘figure formed by two intersecting lines’ entered the language in the 14th century (Chaucer is its first recorded user).

It came from Latin angulus ‘corner’, either directly or via French angle. The Latin word was originally a diminutive of *angus, which is related to other words that contain the notion of ‘bending’, such as Greek ágkūra (ultimate source of English anchor) and English ankle. They all go back to Indo-European *angg- ‘bent’, and it has been speculated that the fishhook angle, with its temptingly bent shape, may derive from the same source.
=> english; anchor, ankle
anther: anther: [18] Greek ánthos originally meant ‘part of a plant which grows above ground’ (this was the basis of the Homeric ‘metaphor’ translated as ‘flower of youth’, which originally referred to the first growth of beard on young men’s faces). Later it narrowed somewhat to ‘flower’. The adjective derived from it was anthērós, which was borrowed into Latin as anthēra, a noun meaning ‘medicine made from flowers’.

In practice, herbalists often made such medicines from the reproductive part of the flower, and so anther came to be applied to the pollen-bearing part of the stamen. More remote semantically, but also derived from Greek ánthos, is anthology [17]. The second element represents Greek logíā ‘collecting’, a derivative of the verb legein ‘gather’ (which is related to legend and logic).

The notion of a collection of flowers, anthologíā, was applied metaphorically to a selection of choice epigrams or brief poems: borrowed into English, via French anthologie or medieval Latin anthologia, it was originally restricted to collections of Greek verse, but by the mid 19th century its application had broadened out considerably. The parallel Latin formation, florilegium, also literally ‘collection of flowers’, has occasionally been used in English for ‘anthology’.
=> anthology
appetite: appetite: [14] In its origins, appetite referred to a very generalized desire or inclination; the wish for food is a secondary development. The Latin noun was appetītus, a derivative of the compound verb appetere ‘strive after, desire eagerly’, which was based on petere ‘go to, seek out’ (source also of English compete, impetus, petition, and repeat, and related to feather).
=> compete, impetus, petition, repeat
bag: bag: [13] English acquired bag from Old Norse baggi ‘bag, bundle’, but it does not appear in any other Germanic language, which suggests that it may have been borrowed at some point from a non-Germanic language. Forms such as Old French bague, Italian baga, and Portuguese bagua show that it existed elsewhere. A derivative of the Old French word was bagage, from which in the 15th century English got baggage; and Italian baga may have led, by a doubling of diminutive suffixes, to bagatella ‘insignificant property, trifle’, which entered English in the 17th century via French bagatelle (although this has also been referred to Latin bacca ‘berry’ – see BACHELOR).
=> bagatelle, baggage
beech: beech: [OE] Like many other tree-names, beech goes back a long way into the past, and is not always what it seems. Among early relatives Latin fāgus meant ‘beech’ (whence the tree’s modern scientific name), but Greek phāgós, for example, referred to an ‘edible oak’. Both come from a hypothetical Indo-European *bhagos, which may be related to Greek phagein ‘eat’ (which enters into a number of English compounds, such as phagocyte [19], literally ‘eating-cell’, geophagy [19], ‘earth-eating’, and sarcophagus).

If this is so, the name may signify etymologically ‘edible tree’, with reference to its nuts, ‘beech mast’. The Old English word bēce’s immediate source was Germanic *bōkjōn, but this was a derivative; the main form bōkō produced words for ‘beech’ in other Germanic languages, such as German buche and Dutch beuk, and it survives in English as the first element of buckwheat [16], so named from its three-sided seeds which look like beech nuts.

It is thought that book may come ultimately from bōk- ‘beech’, on the grounds that early runic inscriptions were carved on beechwood tablets.
=> book, buckwheat, phagocyte, sarcophagus
bluff: bluff: English has two words bluff, one or perhaps both of them of Dutch origin. The older, ‘hearty’ [17], originally referred to ships, and meant ‘having a flat vertical bow’. This nautical association suggests a Dutch provenance, though no thoroughly convincing source has been found. The sense ‘flat, vertical, (and broad)’ came to be applied to land features, such as cliffs (hence the noun bluff ‘high steep bank’, which emerged in America in the 18th century).

The word’s metaphorical extension to people was at first derogatory – ‘rough, blunt’ – but the more favourable ‘hearty’ had developed by the early 19th century. Bluff ‘deceive’ [19] was originally a US poker term. It comes from Dutch bluffen ‘boast’, the descendant of Middle Dutch bluffen ‘swell up’.
boat: boat: [OE] In origin, the word boat seems to be restricted to northern parts of Europe: Old English bāt and Old Norse beit are the only early examples (German boot was borrowed from them, and French bateau comes from the English word). They point to a common Germanic origin in *bait-. It has been speculated that this may be related to bitt ‘post for fastening ship’s cables’. If true, this could mean that boat originally referred to one or other of the structural members of a wooden vessel.
bodice: bodice: [16] Originally, bodice was identical with bodies – that is, the plural of body. This use of body began early in the 16th century, when it referred to the part of a woman’s dress that covered the trunk, as opposed to the arms; and it soon became restricted specifically to the part above the waist. The reason for the adoption of the plural form (which was often used originally in the phrase pair of bodies) was that the upper portion of women’s dresses was usually in two parts, which fastened down the middle. In the 17th and 18th centuries the term bodice was frequently applied to ‘corsets’.
=> body
bunting: bunting: Bunting ‘bird’ [13] and bunting ‘flags’ [18] are presumably two distinct words, although in neither case do we really know where they come from. There was a now obsolete English adjective bunting, first recorded in the 16th century, which meant ‘plump, rounded, short and thick’ (could a subliminal memory of it have been in Frank Richards’s mind when he named Billy Bunter?).

Perhaps the small plump bird, the bunting, was called after this. The adjective probably came from an obsolete verb bunt, which meant (of a sail) ‘swell, billow’, but since we do not know where that came from, it does not get us very much further. As for bunting ‘flags’, the word originally referred to a loosely woven fabric from which they were made, and it has been conjectured that it came from the English dialect verb bunt ‘sift’, such cloth having perhaps once been used for sifting flour.
bury: bury: [OE] Modern English bury is a descendant of Old English byrgan, which came from the Germanic base *burg- (source also of English borough). The underlying meaning of the base was ‘protection, shelter’, and in the case of bury this referred to ‘covering a dead body with earth’ (in Old English, bury applied only to interment; the general sense ‘put underground’ did not develop until the 14th century). The derived burial goes back to Old English byrgels, which in Middle English times was mistaken for a plural.
=> borough
cage: cage: [13] English acquired cage via Old French cage from Latin cavea, which meant ‘enclosure for animals, such as a coop, hive, or stall’, and also ‘dungeon’. This is usually referred to Latin cavus ‘hollow’, from which English gets cave and cavern, although not all etymologists agree with this derivation. A Vulgar Latin derivative of cavea, *caveola, was the ancestor of English gaol, and cavea has also been postulated as the ultimate source of cabinet.
=> cabinet, cave, decoy, gaol, jail
caravan: caravan: [16] Caravans have no etymological connection with cars, nor with char-a-bancs. The word comes ultimately from Persian kārwān ‘group of desert travellers’, and came into English via French caravane. Its use in English for ‘vehicle’ dates from the 17th century, but to begin with it referred to a covered cart for carrying passengers and goods (basis of the shortened form van [19]), and in the 19th century it was used for the basic type of thirdclass railway carriage; its modern sense of ‘mobile home’ did not develop until the late 19th century. Caravanserai ‘inn for accommodating desert caravans’ [16] comes from Persian kārwānserāī: serāī means ‘palace, inn’, and was the source, via Italian, of seraglio ‘harem’ [16].
=> caravanserai, van
Celsius: Celsius: [19] The notion of a temperature scale based on 100 was developed by the Swedish astronomer Anders Celsius (1701–44) (he originally had water boiling at zero and freezing at 100º, but this was later reversed). His name began to be used to designate the scale in English around the middle of the 19th century. In popular parlance it has usually taken a back seat to centigrade (a French invention, first recorded in English in 1812), but it remains the preferred term in scientific usage.
charlatan: charlatan: [17] Charlatan is of Italian origin. It comes from the verb cialare ‘chatter, prattle’. Its original application was to the patter of salesmen trying to sell quack remedies, and hence Italian ciarlatano at first referred to such vendors, and then by extension to any dispenser of impostures. Some etymologists have sought to connect the word with Italian Cerretano, literally ‘inhabitant of Cerreto’, an Italian village supposedly noted for exaggeration, alleging that it may have contributed its suffix to ciarlatano and reinforced its meaning. However that may be, the word reached English in its current from via French charlatan.
cigar: cigar: [18] Cigar comes from Spanish cigarro, whose origin is disputed. One story, perhaps more picturesque than accurate, is that it is an adaptation of cigarra, the Spanish word for ‘cicada’; supposedly this insect, with its stout body round which are wrapped large transparent leaflike wings, was held to resemble a cigar. Others have preferred to see as the source sicar, the verb for ‘smoke’ in the language of the ancient Maya of Central America. Cigarette is a French derivative, with the diminutive suffix -ette, apparently coined in the early 1840s.
coin: coin: [14] Latin cuneus meant ‘wedge’ (from it we get cuneiform ‘wedge-shaped script’). It passed into Old French as coing or coin, where it developed a variety of new meanings. Primary amongst these was ‘corner-stone’ or ‘corner’, a sense preserved in English mainly in the now archaic spelling quoin. But also, since the die for stamping out money was often wedge-shaped, or operated in the manner of a wedge, it came to be referred to as a coin, and the term soon came to be transferred to the pieces of money themselves.
=> quoin
costume: costume: [18] Ultimately, costume and custom are the same word. Both come from Latin consuētūdō ‘custom’. But whereas custom was an early borrowing, from Old French, costume took a lengthier and more circuitous route via Italian costume ‘custom, fashion, dress’ and French costume. In the early 18th century the word referred to the custom or fashion of a particular period as it related to the representation of the clothes, furniture, etc of that period in art.

In the 19th century this passed into ‘mode of dress appropriate to a particular time or place’, and thence (completing a semantic development rather similar to that of habit) into simply ‘garments, outfit’.
=> custom
cud: cud: [OE] The etymological meaning of cud appears to be ‘glutinous substance’. It is related to a wide range of Indo-European words in this general sense area, including Sanskrit játu ‘gum’, German kitt ‘putty’, and Swedish kâda ‘resin’, and the first syllable of Latin bitūmen (source of English bitumen [15]) is generally referred to the same source. Quid ‘piece of tobacco for chewing’ is a variant of cud.
=> bitumen, quid
cue: cue: Cue has several meanings in English, and it is not clear whether they can all be considered to be the same word. In the case of ‘pigtail’ and ‘billiard stick’, both of which appeared in the 18th century, cue is clearly just a variant spelling of queue, but although cue ‘actor’s prompt’ [16] has been referred by some to the same source (on the grounds that it represents the ‘tail’ – from French queue ‘tail’ – of the previous actor’s speech) there is no direct evidence for this.

Another suggestion is that it represents qu, an abbreviation of Latin quando ‘when’ which was written in actor’s scripts to remind them when to come in.
=> queue
daffodil: daffodil: [16] Originally, this word was affodil, and referred to a plant of the lily family, the asphodel; it came from medieval Latin affodillus, and the reason for the change from asph- (or asf-, as it often was in medieval texts) to aff- is probably that the s in medieval manuscripts looked very like an f. The first evidence of its use to refer to a ‘daffodil’, rather than an ‘asphodel’, comes in the middle of the 16th century. It is not entirely clear where the initial d came from, but the likeliest explanation is that daffodil represents Dutch de affodil ‘the daffodil’ (the Dutch were then as now leading exponents of bulb cultivation).
daub: daub: [14] The ultimate source of daub, Latin dēalbāre, meant literally ‘whiten’. It was derived from the adjective albus ‘white’, ancestor of English albino and album. It developed the specific meaning ‘cover with some white substance, such as whitewash or plaster’, and by the time it reached English, via Old French dauber, it referred to the applying of a coating of mortar, plaster, etc to a wall. This was generally a messy process (particularly in the smearing of a mixture of mud and dung on to a framework of laths to produce wattle-and-daub walls), and led in due course to the broader sense ‘apply crudely’.
=> albino, album, auburn
deed poll: deed poll: [16] Contrary to what the term’s modern pronunciation might seem to suggest, with the main stress on its first element rather than its second, a deed poll is a sort of deed, not a sort of poll. It originally referred to a legal document made and signed by one person only. Such documents were drawn up on parchment cut evenly, or ‘polled’, rather than indented, as was the case with documents relating to two or more people.
diaper: diaper: [14] The notion underlying diaper is of extreme whiteness. It comes ultimately from Byzantine Greek díaspros, which was a compound formed from the intensive prefix diaand áspros ‘white’. (Aspros itself has an involved history: it started life as Latin asper ‘rough’ – source of English asperity – which was applied particularly to bas-relief on carvings and coins; it was borrowed into Byzantine Greek and used as a noun to designate silver coins, and their brightness and shininess led to its reconversion into an adjective, meaning ‘white’.) Díaspros appears originally to have been applied to ecclesiastical vestments, and subsequently to any shiny fabric.

When the word first entered English, via medieval Latin diasprum and Old French diapre, it referred to a rather rich silk fabric embellished with gold thread, but by the 16th century it was being used for less glamorous textiles, of white linen, with a small diamond-shaped pattern. The specific application to a piece of such cloth used as a baby’s nappy (still current in American English) seems to have developed in the 16th century.
=> asperity
disc: disc: [17] Disc comes ultimately from Greek dískos ‘quoit’, a derivative of the verb dikein ‘throw’. This passed into Latin as discus, adopted by English in the 17th century in its original athletic sense. The most salient semantic feature of the discus was perhaps its shape, and it was this that English took over in the form disc (either adapted from Latin or borrowed from French disque). The spelling disk is preferred in American English, and it is the standard form used for ‘disc-shaped computer storage device’. Other English words ultimately derived from Latin discus are dais, desk, and dish.
=> dais, desk, dish
drum: drum: [16] Belying the total lack of similarity between the instruments, drum, trumpet, and trombone seem to be closely related. Drum appears to be a shortening of a slightly earlier English word drumslade ‘drum, drummer’, which was borrowed from Low German trommelslag ‘drumbeat’. This was a compound noun formed from trommel ‘drum’ and slag ‘hit’ (related to English slay).

An alternative view is that English simply acquired the word from Middle Dutch tromme. Both these Germanic forms meant simply ‘drum’, but the picture becomes more complex with Middle High German tromme ‘drum’, for originally this had the sense ‘trumpet’, and what is more it had a variant form trumbe (its ancestor, Old High German trumpa, ultimate source of English trumpet and trombone, only meant ‘trumpet’).

So the picture that emerges is of a word that originally referred in a fairly undifferentiated way to any musical instrument that made a loud noise.
=> trombone, trumpet
electricity: electricity: [17] The earliest manifestation of electricity was that produced by rubbing amber, and hence the name, based on ēlectrum, Latin for ‘amber’ (which in turn derives from Greek ēlektron). The first evidence of this in a Latin text is in William Gilbert’s De magnete 1600, but by the middle of the century we find the word being used in English treatises, notably Sir Thomas Browne’s Pseudodoxia epidemica 1646. (At this early stage, of course, it referred only to the ability of rubbed amber, etc to attract light bodies, the only property of electricity then known about; it was not until later that the full range of other electrical phenomena came to be included under the term.)
emancipate: emancipate: [17] Despite modern associations with women’s liberation, emancipate has no etymological connection with man. It comes from Latin ēmancipāre, which meant originally ‘free from parental power’. This was a compound verb formed from the prefix ex- ‘out of’ and mancipium ‘ownership’, and referred in Roman law to the freeing of a son from the legal authority of the male head of the family, thus making him responsible for himself in law. Mancipium (source of the archaic English noun manciple ‘steward, purveyor’ [13]) was ultimately a compound noun formed from manus ‘hand’ (as in English manual) and capere ‘take’ (as in English captive and capture).

The association of the verb with the ‘freeing of slaves’, the basis of the present English meanings, is a modern development.
=> captive, capture, manciple, manual
emblem: emblem: [15] The Latin term emblēma referred to ‘inlaid work’ – designs formed by setting some material such as wood or ivory, or enamel, into a contrasting surface. This usage survived into English as a conscious archaism (‘The ground more colour’d then with stone of costliest emblem’, John Milton, Paradise Lost 1667), but for the most part English has used the word metaphorically, for a ‘design which symbolizes something’.

The Latin word was borrowed from Greek émblēma, a derivative of embállein ‘throw in, put in, insert’. This was a compound verb formed from the prefix en- ‘in’ and bállein ‘throw’ (source of the second syllable of English problem, and closely related to that of symbol).
=> problem, symbol
encyclopedia: encyclopedia: [16] Etymologically, encyclopedia means ‘general education’. It is a medieval formation, based on the Greek phrase egkúklios paideíā (egkúklios, a compound adjective formed from the prefix en- ‘in’ and kúklos ‘circle’ – source of English cycle – meant originally ‘circular’, and hence ‘general’, and is the ultimate source of English encyclical [17]; paideíā ‘education’ was a derivative of país ‘boy, child’, which has given English paederast [18], paedophilia [20], pedagogue [14], pedant [16], and paediatrician [20]).

This referred to the general course of education which it was customary to give a child in classical Greece, and after it was merged into a single word egkuklopaideíā and transmitted via medieval Latin encyclopedia into English, it retained that meaning at first. However, in the 17th century the term began to be applied to compendious reference works (the first, or at least the one which did most to establish the name, was perhaps that of J H Alsted in 1632).

The Encyclopedia Britannica was first published in 1768.
=> cycle, encyclical, paederast, pedagogue, pedant, pediatrician
English: English: [OE] The people and language of England take their name from the Angles, a West Germanic people who settled in Britain in the 5th and 6th centuries AD. They came originally from the Angul district of Schleswig, an area of the Jutland peninsula to the south of modern Denmark. This had a shape vaguely reminiscent of a fishhook, and so its inhabitants used their word for ‘fishhook’ (a relative of modern English angler and angling) to name it.

From earliest times the adjective English seems to have been used for all the Germanic peoples who came to Britain, including the Saxons and Jutes, as well as the Angles (at the beginning of the 8th century Bede referred to them collectively as gens anglorum ‘race of Angles’). The earliest record of its use with reference to the English language is by Alfred the Great.
=> angler, angling
fawn: fawn: Fawn ‘young deer’ [14] and fawn ‘grovel’ [13] are two distinct words. The latter did not always have the negative associations of ‘servility’ which it usually carries today. Originally it simply referred to dogs showing they were happy – by wagging their tails, for instance. It was a derivative of Old English fægen ‘happy’, an adjective of Germanic origin which survives in the archaic fain ‘willingly’ (as in ‘I would fain go’). Fawn ‘young deer’ comes via Old French faon ‘young of an animal’ and Vulgar Latin *fētō from Latin fētus ‘giving birth, offspring’ (whence English foetus).

The general sense ‘young of an animal’ survived into the early 17th century in English (James I’s translation of the Psalms, for instance, in 1603, has ‘the fawn of unicorns’ in Psalm 29, where the Authorized Version simply refers to ‘a young unicorn’), but on the whole ‘young of the deer’ seems to have been the main sense of the word from the 15th century onwards.

Its use as a colour term, after the pale yellowish brown of a young deer’s coat, dates from the 19th century.
=> fain, foetus
felon: felon: [13] Medieval Latin fellō (a word of uncertain origin, sometimes referred to Latin fel ‘gall, poison’) meant ‘evil-doer’. Its nominative form gave English the adjective fell ‘fierce, lethal’, via Old French fel, while its stem form, fellōn-, passed into English through Old French felon. The derivative felony [13] comes from Old French felonie.
=> fell
finger: finger: [OE] Widespread among the Germanic languages (German, Swedish, and Danish all have finger, and Dutch vinger), finger is not found in any other branch of Indo-European. It is usually referred to a prehistoric Indo-European ancestor *pengkrós ‘number of five’, a derivative (like fist) of *pengke ‘five’.
=> fist, five
fist: fist: [OE] Like finger, fist seems etymologically to be a reference to the number of fingers on the hand. It comes from a prehistoric West Germanic *fūstiz (source also of German faust and Dutch vuist). This may represent an earlier *fungkhstiz, which has been referred to an Indo- European ancestor *pngkstis, a derivative of *pengke ‘five’. (Dutch vuist ‘fist’, incidentally, is probably the source of English foist [16], which originally denoted the dishonest concealing of a dice in one’s hand.)
=> finger, five, foist
fog: fog: [16] The word fog is something of a mystery. It first appears in the 14th century meaning ‘long grass’, a use which persists in Yorkshire fog, the name of a species of grass. This may be of Scandinavian origin. The relationship, if any, between fog ‘grass’ and fog ‘mist’ is not immediately clear, but it has been speculated that the adjective foggy, which to begin with referred to places overgrown with long grass, and then passed via ‘of grassy wetlands’ to ‘boggy, marshy’ may have given rise via this last sense to a noun fog denoting the misty exhalations from such marshy ground.

A rather far-fetched semantic chain, perhaps, lacking documentary evidence at crucial points, and perhaps Danish fog ‘spray, shower’ may be closer to the real source.
frank: frank: [13] To call someone frank is to link them with the Germanic people who conquered Gaul around 500 AD, the Franks, who gave their name to modern France and the French. After the conquest, full political freedom was granted only to ethnic Franks or to those of the subjugated Celts who were specifically brought under their protection. Hence, franc came to be used as an adjective meaning ‘free’ – a sense it retained when English acquired it from Old French: ‘He was frank and free born in a free city’, John Tiptoft, Julius Caesar’s commentaries 1470.

In both French and English, however, it gradually progressed semantically via ‘liberal, generous’ and ‘open’ to ‘candid’. Of related words in English, frankincense [14] comes from Old French franc encens, literally ‘superior incense’ (‘superior’ being a now obsolete sense of French franc), and franc [14], the French unit of currency, comes from the Latin phrase Francorum rex ‘king of the Franks’, which appeared on the coins minted during the reign of Jean le Bon (1350–64).

The Franks, incidentally, supposedly got their name from their preferred weapon, the throwing spear, in Old English franca.
=> french
gipsy: gipsy: [16] In the 16th century, it was widely thought that the Romany people originated in Egypt. They were therefore called gipcyans or gipsens, which was simply an alteration of Egyptian. The modern form of the word developed in the 17th century (perhaps influenced by Latin Aegyptius). In American English the spelling gypsy is generally preferred. (Spanish gitano ‘gipsy’, incidentally, has a similar origin.)
=> egyptian
group: group: [17] Group was originally a term in art criticism. It referred to the disposition of a set of figures or objects in a painting, drawing, etc. Not until the 18th century was it used in its current general sense. It comes via French groupe from Italian gruppo, which was borrowed originally from prehistoric Germanic *kruppaz ‘round mass, lump’ (formed from the same base as produced English crop).
=> crop
gymnasium: gymnasium: [16] Greek gumnós meant ‘naked’. It was customary in ancient times for athletes to train naked, and so the verb gumnázein came to mean ‘train, practise’ – particularly by doing exercises (whence English gymnast [16]). From the verb was derived the noun gumnásion, which Latin borrowed as gymnasium ‘school’. This academic sense has never caught on to any extent in English (although it is the word’s only application in German); we have preferred to go back to the original athletic connotations.
gypsy: gypsy: [16] It appears that in late medieval Europe, it was widely believed that the Roma people originated in Egypt. They first appeared in England around the beginning of the 16th century, and at first were generally referred to as ‘Egyptians’ (a name which survived well into the 18th century). Egyptian was soon eroded to gyptian, and by the end of the 16th century a new ending had been grafted on to the word to produce gypsy.
he: he: [OE] He comes ultimately from a prehistoric Indo-European base *ki-, *ko-, which denoted in general terms ‘this, here’ (as opposed to ‘that, there’) and occurs in a number of modern English demonstrative pronouns and adverbs, such as here and hence. The most direct use of the demonstrative is for the ‘person or thing referred to’, and so *ki- has come down directly via Germanic *khi- as the third person singular pronoun he (of which him, his, she, her, and it are all derivatives).
=> him, his, it, she
instal: instal: [16] To instal someone was originally literally to put them ‘into a stall’. The word comes from medieval Latin installāre, a compound verb based on the noun stallum ‘stall’, and referred originally to the formal induction of someone into an office by ceremonially placing them in a seat or ‘stall’, such as the choir stall of a cathedral. The instalof instalment [18], incidentally, is a different word, although the two are ultimately related.

It is an alteration of an earlier estallment ‘arrangement for payment’, which came from Anglo-Norman estaler ‘fix payments’. This was a derivative of estal ‘fixed position’, which was borrowed from Old High German stal ‘place’ (source also of medieval Latin stallum).
=> instalment, stall
kangaroo: kangaroo: [18] The first English speakers to refer in writing to the kangaroo were Captain Cook and the botanist Joseph Banks, who both mentioned it in 1770 in the journals they kept of their visit to Australia (Banks, for instance, referred to killing ‘kangaru’). This was their interpretation of ganjurru, the name for a large black or grey type of kangaroo in the Guugu Yimidhirr language of New South Wales.

English quickly generalized the term to any sort of kangaroo, although it caused some confusion among speakers of other Australian Aboriginal languages, who were not familiar with it: speakers of the Baagandji language, for instance, used it to refer to the horse (which had just been introduced into Australia). There is no truth whatsoever in the story that the Aboriginal word was a reply to the English question ‘What’s that?’, and meant ‘I don’t understand’.

The element -roo was used in the 19th century to produce jackeroo, which denoted ‘a new immigrant in Australia’, and is first recorded as an independent abbreviation of kangaroo in the first decade of the 20th century. The term kangaroo court ‘unofficial court’, which dates from the 1850s, is an allusion to the court’s irregular proceedings, which supposedly resemble the jumps of a kangaroo.
macabre: macabre: [15] Macabre is now used generally for ‘ghastly’, but that is a late 19th-century development. It originated in the very specific phrase dance macabre, which denoted a dance in which a figure representing death enticed people to dance with him until they dropped down dead. This was borrowed from French danse macabre, which was probably an alteration of an earlier danse Macabé. This in turn was a translation of medieval Latin chorea Machabaeorum ‘dance of the Maccabees’, which is thought originally to have referred to a stylized representation of the slaughter of the Maccabees (a Jewish dynasty of biblical times) in a medieval miracle play.