I shall be thought hypercritical perhaps if I object to the use of _sanction_ as a verb; but it seems to be a comparatively modern innovation. I must, however, admit that it is used by the two distinguished writers to whom I alluded with respect to the word _mistaken_. Recently some religious services in London were asserted by the promoters to be _under the sanction_ of three bishops; almost immediately afterwards letters appeared from the three bishops in which they qualified the amount of their approbation: rather curiously all three used _sanction_ as a verb. The theology of the bishops might be the sounder, but as to accuracy of language I think the inferior clergy had the advantage. By an obvious association I may say that if any words of mine could reach episcopal ears, I should like to ask why a first charge is called a _primary_ charge, for it does not appear that this mode of expression is continued. We have, I think, second, third, and so on, instead of _secondary_, _tertiary_, and so on, to distinguish the subsequent charges. Very eminent authors will probably always claim liberty and indulge in peculiarities; and it would be ungrateful to be censorious on those who have permanently enriched our literature. We must, then, allow an eminent historian to use the word _cult_ for worship or superstition; so that he tells us of an _indecent cult_ when he means an _unseemly false religion_. So, too, we must allow another eminent historian to introduce a foreign idiom, and speak of a _man of pronounced opinions_. One or two of our popular writers on scientific subjects are fond of frequently introducing the word _bizarre_; surely some English equivalent might be substituted with advantage. The author of an anonymous academical paper a few years since was discovered by a slight peculiarity—namely, the use of the word _ones_, if there be such a word: this occurred in certain productions to which the author had affixed his name, and so the same phenomenon in the unacknowledged paper betrayed the origin which had been concealed. A curious want of critical tact was displayed some years since by a reviewer of great influence. Macaulay, in his Life of Atterbury, speaking of Atterbury’s daughter, says that her great wish was to see her _papa_ before she died. The reviewer condemned the use of what he called the _mawkish word papa_. Macaulay, of course, was right; he used the daughter’s own word, and any person who consults the original account will see that accuracy would have been sacrificed by substituting _father_. Surely the reviewer ought to have had sufficient respect for Macaulay’s reading and memory to hesitate before pronouncing an off-hand censure.