mal instincts, held up before men a mirror of what they
would be, if only the divine, which is also the truly human, element of
humanity, were withdrawn; what man, all that properly made him man being
withdrawn, would prove.

{Sidenote: '_Mid-wife_', '_Nostril_'}

And then what light, as we have already seen, does the older spelling of
a word often cast upon its etymology; how often does it clear up the
mystery, which would otherwise have hung about it, or which _had_ hung
about it till some one had noticed and turned to profit this its earlier
spelling. Thus 'dirge' is always spelt 'dirige' in early English. This
'dirige' may be the first word in a Latin psalm or prayer once used at
funerals; there is a reasonable probability that the explanation of the
word is here; at any rate, if it is not here, it is nowhere{280}. The
derivation of 'mid-wife' is uncertain, and has been the subject of
discussion; but when we find it spelt 'medewife' and 'meadwife', in
Wiclif's Bible, this leaves hardly a doubt that it is the _wife_ or
woman who acts for a _mead_ or reward{281}. In cases too where there
was no mystery hanging about a word, how often does the early spelling
make clear to all that which was before only known to those who had made
the language their study. For example, if an early edition of Spenser
should come into your hands, or a modern one in which the early spelling
is retained, what continual lessons in English might you derive from it.
Thus 'nostril' is always spelt by him and his cotemporaries
'nosethrill'; a little earlier it was 'nosethirle'. Now 'to thrill' is
the same as to drill or pierce; it is plain then here at once that the
word signifies the orifice or opening with which the _nose_ is
_thrilled_, drilled, or pierced. We might have read the word for ever in
our modern spelling without being taught this. 'Ell' tells us nothing
about itself; but in 'eln' used in Holland's translation of Camden, we
recognize 'ulna' at once.

Again, the 'morris' or 'morrice-dance', which is alluded to so often by
our early poets, as it is now spelt informs us nothing about itself; but
read '_moriske_ dance', as it is generally spelt by Holland and his
cotemporaries, and you will scarcely fail to perceive that of which
indeed there is no manner of doubt; namely, that it was so called either
because it was really, or was supposed to be, a dance in use among the
_moriscoes_ of Spain, and from thence introduced into England{2