toe the line / toe the mark

2007 photo of US soldiers of the First Cavalry Division toeing the line. A line of soldiers standing at attention, wearing camouflage uniforms, boots, and cavalry spurs (the latter worn for effect rather than any practical purpose).

2007 photo of US soldiers of the First Cavalry Division toeing the line. A line of soldiers standing at attention, wearing camouflage uniforms, boots, and cavalry spurs (the latter worn for effect rather than any practical purpose).

24 June 2022  

To toe the line or toe the mark is to meet a standard or come into conformance with expectations, to obey. The metaphor from which the phrase springs is that of soldiers standing or marching in formation, their toes arrayed along an imaginary line—the earliest appearances of the phrase are in military contexts. Often dictionaries will give the metaphor of runners at the start of the race, and while that is an apt metaphor, it’s not the original one. The phrase is often reanalyzed and misspelled as tow the line, which draws upon a different, and in this case nonsensical, metaphor, that of pulling a rope.

We see the military context in the earliest use of the phrase in a 1738 account of life in the British army by John Railton. In this passage, Railton describes the qualities that a good military leader should possess and opines that a good leader is not just a bully:

To deserve the Name of a complete, thorough-disciplin’d Soldier, a Man ought to be endued with more extraordinary Qualifications than those of crying, Silence, you Dogs, toe the Line, you Puppies; Corporals, take such and such Rascals to the Black-hole, or Savoy, see that they are double iron’d, let them have nothing but Bread and Water.

And the underlying metaphor is made clear in the following passage, which is from a drill manual written by a Thomas Pickering in 1775 for the fledgling colonial militias being formed to fight the British in the American Revolution. Here he describes how soldiers should execute a wheeling motion while marching:

Illustration from Pickering’s 1775 Easy Plan of Discipline for a Militia showing the lines soldiers must toe when marching in a wheeling motion.

Illustration from Pickering’s 1775 Easy Plan of Discipline for a Militia showing the lines soldiers must toe when marching in a wheeling motion.

The different lengths of their steps are shewn by the lines c g, c h, &c. for at their first step they must all bring their toes to the line c g, at the second step they toe the line c h, at the next the line c i, and so on, till they all arrive at c m at the same time.

And we see toe the mark used in a metaphorical context in this piece from the Washington Federalist of 23 January 1802:

Doctor Eustis, with some impatience, said the Tripolitan bill must pass, expense or no expense, or democracy was knocked on the head in New England. Mr. Varnum said nothing could be expected unless the chairman of the select committee who brought the bill could toe the mark well. Could any man, said he, lighting up a smile on his delightful countenance, could any man but myself carried through the army bill?

A year or so later, the Connecticut Courant published a 19 December 1803 letter by a Roger Skinner which describes a 1799 conversation in which the phrase was used. We have to take the 1799 date with a grain of salt. Memories of the exact language that had been used in a conversation are always suspect, and Roger Skinner was not present for this particular conversation, making it at best a second-hand recollection. The General Skinner mentioned in the conversation is Roger Skinner’s father, who had expressed doubt about the Adams administration to a group of Adams supporters. If the phrase was indeed actually used in the 1799 conversation, the fact that these are military men would be telling. It seems plausible that Roger Skinner had heard his father use the phrase on other occasions and inserted it here as words his father would likely have said:

The first word that was uttered after he came in was by Gen. Tracy to Mr. Allen, “Gen. Skinner does not seem to toe the mark with us.”

Finally, we see toe the line used in a New Year’s poem published in Maine’s Portland Gazette of 4 January 1813. The use of chalk’d gives away the metaphor:

Wonders quite curious—and new;
The budget open’d, out these flew
Accounts of battles—horrid rumours,
With patent medicine for tumors,
Law matters, Puffendorf and Vattel
Concerning Nations when in battle.
Also new rules to toe the line,
Chalk’d by the watchful SIXTY NINE,
Shewing to Irishman the risk he
Incurs in taking grog or whiskey.

I don’t know what the sixty-nine refers to here. If anyone has any idea (and no, it certainly does not mean THAT; get your mind out of the gutter), I would love to hear it.

Discuss this post


Sources:

“For the Washington Federalist.” Washington Federalist (Georgetown, District of Columbia), 23 January 1802, 2. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

“New Year’s Address for 1813.” Portland Gazette (Maine), 4 January 1813, 3. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. toe, v.

Pickering, Timothy. An Easy Plan of Discipline for a Militia. Salem, Massachusetts: Samuel and Ebenezer Hall, 1775, 53n. Eighteenth Century Collections Online (ECCO).

Railton, John. The Army Regulator: or, the Military Adventures of Mr. John Railton. London: W. Warner, et al., 1738, 120. Eighteenth Century Collections Online (ECCO).

Skinner Roger. Letter (19 December 1803). Connecticut Courant (Hartford), 8 February 1804, 1. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

Tréguer, Pascal. “Meaning and Origin of the Phrase ‘To Toe the Line.’Wordhistories.net. 2 April 2017.

Image credits: Nathan Hoskins, 2007, US Army photo, public domain image; Detail of Plate #1 of Pickering’s An Easy Plan of Discipline for a Militia, 1775, public domain image.

tip

A tip left at a cafe in Spain. An empty glass of beer sits on a table next to a bill for €4.20 and €5.00 left in payment.

A tip left at a cafe in Spain. An empty glass of beer sits on a table next to a bill for €4.20 and €5.00 left in payment. (A rare case where the European practice of leaving spare change as a tip corresponds in value to the North American one of leaving 15–20% of the bill as a tip.)

22 June 2022

The word tip has multiple meanings in English. Here I am focusing on the sense of to give either a piece of information or a small sum of money—in the latter case, particularly to a servant or service worker—as well as the noun associated with that verb. The word comes out of early seventeenth-century criminal cant, which may confirm the opinions of those who object to the American practice of tipping service workers. Why those long-dead criminals choose tip to mean this is unknown. It may be due to an older sense of to tip meaning to tap or touch lightly, but any connection is tenuous and uncertain.

The word is first recorded as a verb in a number of slang and cant dictionaries. The earliest that I know of is in Samuel Rid’s 1610 Martin Mark-All, Beadle of Bridewell, which includes a cant dictionary containing corrections to an earlier, lost lexicon. The meaning of tip here is simply to give, often but not necessarily associated with money:

Chates, the Gallowes: here he mistakes both the simple word, because he so found it printed, not knowing the true orginall thereof, and also in the compound; as for Chates it should be Cheates, which word is vsed generally for things, as Tip me that Cheate, Giue me that thing: so that if you will make a word for the Gallous, you must put thereto this word Treyning, which signifies hanging; and so Treyning Cheate is as much to say, hanging things, or the Gallous, and not Chates.

And it also has this entry:

Tip a make ben Roome Coue, giue a halfepeny good Gentleman.

Elisha Coles’s 1677 dictionary includes this phrase:

Tip the cole to Adam Tiler, s. give the (stoln) money to your (running) Comrade.

The parenthetical words are in the original.

And the 1699 New Dictionary of the Canting Crew has this:

Tip, c. to give or lend; also Drink and a draught. Tip-your Lour, or Cole or I'll Mill ye, c. give me your Money or I'll kill ye. Tip the Culls a Sock, for they are sawcy, c. Knock down the Men for resisting. Tip the Cole to Adam Tiler, c. give your Pick-pocket Money presently to your running Comrade. Tip the Mish, c. give me the Shirt. Tip me a Hog, c. lend me a Shilling. Tip it all off, Drink it all off at a Draught. Don't spoil his Tip, don't baulk his Draught. A Tub of good Tip, (for Tipple) a Cask of strong Drink.

The noun, meaning a gratuity given to a servant, is in place by the mid eighteenth century. This particular subsense undoubtedly developed from the more general cant sense described above. The following letter appeared in the 29 May 1755 issue of The Connoisseur:

Dear Mr. Town,
I have been happy all this winter in having the run of a nobleman’s table, who was pleased to patronize a work of mine, and to which he allowed me the honour of prefixing his name in a dedication. We geniusses [sic] have a spirit, you know, far beyond our pockets: and (besides the extraordinary expence of new cloaths to appear decent) I assure you I have laid out every farthing, that I ever received from his lordship, in tips to his servants. After every dinner I was forced to run the gauntlet through a long line of powdered pick-pockets; and I could not but look upon it as a very ridiculous circumstance, that I should be obliged to give money to a fellow, who was dressed much finer than myself. In such a case, I am apt to consider the showy waistcoat of a foppish footman or butler out of livery, as laced down with the shillings and half-crowns of the guests. I would therefore beg of you, Mr. Town, to recommend the poor author's case to the consideration of the gentlemen of the cloth; humbly praying, that they would be pleased to let us go scot-free as well as the clergy: for though a good meal is in truth a very comfortable thing to us, it is enough to blunt the edge of our appetites, to consider that we must afterwards pay so dear for our ordinary.
I am, Sir, Yours, &c.
Jeffrey Barebones.

The writer’s sentiment is shared by many today. One can be in favor of service workers being paid a living wage without supporting the notion that the wage should come via the charity of customers rather than from the employer’s profits.

And the sense of the noun meaning a piece of information is in place a century later. The magazine The Athenӕum of 4 October 1845 has this complaint about publishers selling students the answers to their homework questions:

Xenophon’s Expedition of Cyrus: Books I. II. III. Translated literally, &c. for the use and advantage of Students.—Of such books as this, (“tip-books” as school-boys call them,) though they are generally used, we doubt the value. They may enable the boy to get easily through his lesson; but they must leave him nearly as ignorant of a language as before he commenced. It is books like this that make sound scholarship almost unknown among us.

While students may no longer refer to Cliff Notes and their ilk as tip-books (or tip-sites given we’re in the internet age), the practice is alive and well to the frustration of teachers everywhere.

Finally, the notion that tip is an acronym meaning to insure prompt service is utterly false, as we have seen. Whenever one hears an acronymic origin, one should immediately question it. Most stories of acronymic word origins are false.

Discuss this post


Sources:

B.E. A New Dictionary of the Canting Crew. London: for W. Hawes, et al., 1699, sig. M2. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Coles, Elisha. An English Dictionary. London: Peter Parker, 1677. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

The Connoisseur, 29 May 1755, 417. Eighteenth Century Collections Online (ECCO).

Lexicons of Early Modern English, 2021.

“Our Library Table.” The Athenӕum, 4 October 1845, 964. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. tip, v.1; tip, v.4; tip, v.5; tip, n.3; tip, n.4.

Rid, Samuel. Martin Mark-All, Beadle of Bridewell. London: John Windet for John Budge and Richard Bonian, 1610, sig. E2, E4. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Photo credit: Adeeto, 2015. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.

Juneteenth

A band at a Juneteenth celebration, Austin, Texas, 1900

A band at a Juneteenth celebration, Austin, Texas, 1900

20 June 2022

Juneteenth is celebrated on 19 June and is, obviously, a blend or portmanteau of June + nineteen. It commemorates the date in 1865 when Major General Gordon Granger of the Union army freed the slaves in Galveston, Texas. Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation had legally freed the slaves in all the rebelling states as of 1 January 1863, but the order was, of course, not carried out immediately, and the far reaches of Texas were one of the last places where Union forces could enforce the order. So, Juneteenth celebrates the freeing of the last slaves in the United States.

The earliest extant use of Juneteenth is a line the Galveston Daily News of 22 May 1890 that quotes the Black newspaper the Beaumont Recorder (date unknown):

For Galveston to send abroad for orators for its coming “Juneteenth” is like carrying coal to Newcastle. There are about as good speakers—persons who know all about English as she is spoke—in the city by the sea as anywhere.

In the nineteenth century, Juneteenth celebrations were largely confined to Texas. Here’s a description of the 1892 celebration in Galveston that appeared in the White Galveston Daily News of 18 June 1892. Despite the racist language, it gives a nice description of the events and is notable in that it shows that complaints about the commercialization of celebrations such as this are not a recent phenomenon:  

The glorious “Juneteenth” began to be celebrated by the colored people to-day. A procession composed of a brass band, decorated float containing the goddess of liberty and attendants, orators and distinguished visitors in carriages, and a number of baseball nines on foot, was formed at noon and marched to the fair grounds, where there was speaking, amusement for children, coronation of the goddess of liberty and baseball, ending with a ball at night. The celebration will continue through to-morrow and the next day.

There was not much of a crowd in from the country, and a good many of the town darkies declined to have anything to do with the celebration, for they say they can’t see the use of celebrating the 17th and 18th, because Emancipation day is the 19th, and in addition to this they charge the management is running the thing for the money there is in it and they don’t think that the day of freedom should be utilized in that way.

During the twentieth century, especially as a result of the Great Migration of Blacks from the South to the North and West, Juneteenth began to be celebrated by Black communities throughout the United States. Texas made it an official state holiday in 1980, and over the following decades most other states followed suit. Juneteenth became a federal holiday in 2021.

Discuss this post

Sources:

“A Free Summer Normal.” Galveston Daily News, 18 June 1892, 1. Gale Primary Sources: Nineteenth Century U.S. Newspapers.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, September 2004, s.v. Juneteenth, n.

“The State Press.” Galveston Daily News, 22 May 1890, 4. Gale Primary Sources: Nineteenth Century U.S. Newspapers.

Photo credit: Grace Murray Stephenson, 19 June 1900, Portal to Texas History, Austin Public Library.

tinker / tinker's damn

A nineteenth-century Polish tinker. A man seated on a chair, holding a pot between his legs and tools in his hands. Various tools and materials are strewn about his feet.

A nineteenth-century Polish tinker. A man seated on a chair, holding a pot between his legs and tools in his hands. Various tools and materials are strewn about his feet.

20 June 2022

The phrase to not give a tinker’s damn means to not care about something or to ascribe little or no worth to it. While most English speakers today know what the phrase means, especially when heard in context, many do not know what a tinker is or why it is associated with swearing and profanity. Furthermore, a desire not to utter a profanity has caused some to respell the final word as dam, sometimes inventing false explanations for doing so along the way.

A tinker is someone who mends pots, pans, and other household utensils, especially one who is itinerant, with no fixed place of business. Why a member of this profession is called a tinker is unknown. The word may come from tin, the material tinkers often work with, but in that case the addition of the /k/ is unexplained. More likely, it is an echoic word, coming from the sound that tinkers make when working.

Regardless of where the word comes from, it is first recorded in the twelfth century as a surname, presumably of someone of that profession. In 1145, a Robert le Tinker of Stokes was recorded in court document as being the witness to a murder, but as Robert and others, did not seize the murderer, who was still at large, they were fined 100 shillings. And an Editha le Tynekere is mentioned in a tax roll from c.1265. Her assessment was two pence, the lowest listed on the roll. This one is especially noteworthy as it is presumably a reference to a tradeswoman. There are other extant medieval mentions of people with the surname Tinker.

The word also appears in William Langland’s c.1400 poem Piers Plowman. It comes in a long list of tradespeople toward the end of the poem’s prologue:

Barons and Burgeises and bonde-men als
I seiȝ in þis assemblee as ye shul here after
Baksteres and Brewesteres and Bochiers manye
Wollen webbesters and weueres of lynnen
Taillours and Tynkers and Tollers in Markettes
Masons and Mynours and many oþere craftes
Of alle kynne lybbynge laborers lopen forþ somme
As dykeres and delueres þat doon hire dedes ille
And dryueþ forþ þe longe day with Dieu saue dame Emme
Cokes and hire knaues cryden hote pies hote
Goode gees and grys gowe go we dyne gowe go we

(Barons and burgesses and bondmen also
I saw in this assembly as you shall hear later.
Bakers and brewers and butchers a-many,
Woollen-websters and weavers of linen,
Tailors and tinkers and toll-collectors in markets,
Masons and miners and many other crafts.
Of all kinds of living labourers there stood forth some;
Ditch-diggers and delvers that do their work ill
And carry on all the day singing “God save you, Lady Emma!”
Cooks and their knaves cried “Pies, hot pies!
Good goose and pork! Come, dine! Come, dine!”)

The association of tinkers with swearing and foul language is in place by the early seventeenth century. Presumably, tinkers were a rough lot, given to salty language. Randle Cotgrave makes mention of the phrase swear like a tinker in two entries in his 1611 French-English dictionary:

Chartier: m. A Carter, Carreman; Waine-man, Waggonman. Il iure comme vn chartier. He sweares like a Carter; (we say, like a Tinker.)

And:

Iurer. To sweare, depose, take an oath, rap out an oath.
Iurer és mains d'autruy. (The old fashion of swearing) Looke Main.
Il iure comme vn Abbé; chartier; gentilhomme; prelat. Like a Tinker, say we.

And later that century we see the phrase itself in a 1687 translation of Cervantes’s Don Quixote:

The Gypsie Asturian, seeing him coming in Cholerick haste, fled for shelter into Sancho’s Kennel, who lay snoring like a Tapster, and there hid her self under his Coverlet, truss’d up as round as an Egg. Presently the Master entring, and swearing like a Tinker, Where's this damn'd Whore, cry'd he? for I'm sure 'tis her doing. At the same time Sancho awaking, and feeling an unusual weight that almost over-laid him, which he believ’d to be the Night-Mare, laid about him with his Fists, and pummell’d Maritornes so severely, that at last having lost all her Patience, and forgetting the Danger she was in, she return’d him his Thumps with such a plentiful Interest, that Sancho's Welch Blood being mov’d, he bussl’d up in his Bed, and catching hold of Maritornes, began the most pleasant Skirmish in the VVorld: For the Carrier seeing his Mistress so abus’d, cuff’d Sancho; Sancho maul’d the Maid; the Maid be-labour’d the Squire, in return of his Kindnesses; and the Inn-keeper paid off his Servant; following their Blows so fast, as if they had been afraid of losing time.

The noun phrase tinker’s curse, denoting something that is worthless, is in place by the early nineteenth century. The law of supply and demand would rule that since swear words from a tinker were overly abundant, they consequently wouldn’t be worth much. This passage is from D.W. Paynter’s 1813 novel The History and Adventures of Godfrey Ranger, in which the protagonist encounters a former lover who has become a beggar and prostitute and is in a pitiable state:

Whilst I was lifting her off the steps, the tongues of the people were extremely active.

“Devil take me,” cried one, “but he’s got an armful of joy!” “A pretty gentleman, icod!” cried another. “He’s woundily fond of a job!” cried a third. “I’m thinking he’ll have to wash his paws well after it!” bawled a fourth. “Pugh, how you talk, man,” cried a fifth, “fellows in fine coats will do dirtier work than this, when they are put to their shifts.” [“]Will they, by G—!” cried a sixth, “then they a’n’t worth a pedlar’s curse!” “You mean a tinker’s curse, friend,” shouted a seventh. “You may all think or mean what you choose,” cried an eighth; “but I’ll be d—n’d, and that’s plain English, I think, if I wouldn’t sooner empty fifty jakes’, than touch the finger-nails of such a stinking b—h!”

And we have this from the Saratoga Journal of 11 June 1817, showing that the phrase was also current in North America. Here the topic is the unstable nature of paper currency in that era:

The editor of the Zanesville (Ohio) paper, in speaking of the bank bills in that quarter, remarks, that he does not know how they are situated in other quarters with regard to that kind of money; but in that vicinity, “He was best off who had the least of it”—that “some of it was not worth a tinker’s curse,” &c.

And we finally see the now-familiar phrase tinker’s damn in the Scribbler, a Montreal paper, from 20 April 1826:

I don’t care a tinker’s damn, by gosh; he can only laugh at me, but can’t say any thing so very bad of me.

There have also been attempts to clean up the phrase by calling it a tinker’s dam and avoiding repeating the swear word. Engineer and patent lawyer Edward H. Knight came up with this convoluted, and obviously false, explanation for the phrase in his 1876 Knight’s American Mechanical Dictionary:

Tink´er’s-dam. A wall of dough raised around a place which a plumber desires to flood with a coat of solder. The material can be but once used; being consequently thrown away as worthless, it has passed into a proverb, usually involving the wrong spelling of the otherwise innocent word “dam.”

Others would have the dam being a reference to the tinker’s horse, presumably one that was not worth very much. Of course, this overlooks the fact that dam, while it is used in records of equine bloodlines, does not mean horse, but rather means mother.

But the lexical evidence is clear, the word is damn. Although appearances of tinker’s dam do not necessarily mean the writers believed these incorrect conjectures. The writers, especially nineteenth-century ones, may have just been trying to avoid the impolite spelling.

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Sources:

Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel de. The History of the Most Renowned Don Quixote of Mancha and His Trusty Squire Sancho Pancha. J.P., trans. London: Thomas Hodgkin, 1687, 1.3.2, 69. Early English Books Online.

Chadwick-Healey, Charles E.H., ed. Somersetshire Pleas. London: Harrison and Sons, 1897, 304. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Cotgrave, Randle. A Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues. London: Adam Islip, 1611. Early English Books Online.

Knight, Edward H. Knight’s American Mechanical Dictionary, vol. 3 of 3. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1876, 2575, s.v. Tinker’s-dam. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Langland, William. Piers Plowman (B text). Thorlac Turville-Petre and Hoyt N. Duggan, eds. Prologue, lines 217–27. Piers Plowman Electronic Archive. Cambridge, Trinity College MS B.15.17.

Letter, 8 March 1826. The Scribbler (Montreal), 20 April 1826. 248. Gale Primary Sources: American Historical Periodicals from the American Antiquarian Society.

Lexicons of Early Modern English, 2021.

Middle English Dictionary, 2019, s.v. tinker(e, n.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, March 2020, s.v. tinker, n.1.

Paynter, David William. The History and Adventures of Godfrey Ranger, vol. 2 of 3. Manchester: R.W. Dean, 1813, 143. Google Books.

Saratoga Journal (Ballston Spa, New York). 11 June 1817, 2. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Sixth Report of the Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts, Part 1: Report and Appendix. London: George Edward Eyre and William Spottiswoode, 1877, 578. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Tréguer, Pascal. “Meaning and Origin of ‘Not to Give a Tinker’s Damn.’Wordhistories.net. 30 March 2017.

Image credit: Ignacy Krieger, nineteenth century. Public domain image.

throw the baby out with the bathwater (don't)

Woodcut of a woman in sixteenth-century dress emptying out a washtub with a baby still inside, from Thomas Murner’s 1512 Narrenbeschwörung

Woodcut of a woman in sixteenth-century dress emptying out a washtub with a baby still inside, from Thomas Murner’s 1512 Narrenbeschwörung.

17 June 2022

The phrase throw the baby out with the bathwater is a calque of a German proverb, das Kind mit dem Bade ausschütten, that dates to at least 1512. But it took several centuries for the phrase to make its appearance in English. And the exact wording of the English version varies, with the earliest instances using the verb to empty rather than the verb to throw, but regardless, the phrase and metaphor are recognizably the same.

The phrase’s first known appearance in German is in Thomas Murner’s 1512 satirical Narrenbeschwörung (Appeal to Fools). In a chapter in the book titled Das Kindt mit dem Bad vß Schitten, which consists of a seventy-six-line poem, the phrase occurs three times. The poem opens:

Ein narr der meint, es su nit Schad,
Das kindt uß schitten mit dem bade,
Und su so gut, in die hell gesprungen,
Als mit rütschen drun gerungen.

(A fool thinks it’s not a bad thing to spill the baby with the bathwater; it’s as good to leap into hell as to slide into it.)

Murner uses it in later works, indicating that it was probably already in oral use by 1512. Other German writers rapidly followed, and the list of those who have used the phrase over the centuries includes Martin Luther, Johannes Kepler, Goethe, Bismarck, Thomas Mann, and Günter Grass.

The phrase’s first known appearance in English is a disturbing one, appearing in a racist, pro-slavery tract by essayist and philosopher Thomas Carlyle. That does not mean, though, that the phrase itself is racist or that we should be hesitant to use it in our speech and writing today. But it’s important to recognize who we are dealing with when we see quotations from noted personages of the past. As the following passage shows, Carlyle was a hardcore white supremacist (and also anti-Semite). The passage is from Carlyle’s 1853 essay Occasional Discourse on the N[——]r Question:

I am prepared to maintain against all comers, That in every human relation, from that of husband and wife down to that of master and servant, nomadism is the bad plan, and continuance the good. A thousand times, since I first had servants, it has occurred to me, How much better had I servants that were bound to me, and to whom I were bound! Doubtless it were not easy; doubtless it is now impossible: but if it could be done! I say, if the Black gentleman is born to be a servant, and, in fact, is useful in God’s creation only as a servant, then let him hire not by the month, but by a very much longer term. That he be “hired for life,”—really here is the essence of the position he now holds! Consider that matter. All else is abuse in it, and this only is essence;—and the abuses must be cleared away. They must and shall! Yes; and the thing itself seems to offer (its abuses once cleared away) a possibility of the most precious kind for the Black man and for us. Servants hired for life, or by a contract for a long period, and not easily dissoluble; so and not otherwise would all reasonable mortals, Black and White, wish to hire and to be hired! I invite you to reflect on that; for you will find it true. And if true, it is important for us, in reference to this Negro Question and some others. The Germans say, “you must empty-out the bathing-tub, but not the baby along with it.” Fling-out your dirty water with all zeal, and set it careering down the kennels; but try if you can keep the little child!

Carlyle was a Germanophile and undoubtedly became familiar with the phrase from reading German writers.

The phrase appears in American writing a few years later, in the February 1860 issue of the religious magazine The Dial. It seems likely, however, that the phrase was brought to North America by German immigrants, rather than through the influence of Carlyle. The phrase is used in an editorial note following an article that is critical of the institution of prayer:

The defect of the above article seems to us to be that, in the language of a homely German proverb, it throws out the baby with the bath. Its fierce indignation at superstition holds discrimination in abeyance, and because of the worm cuts down the tree.

The phrase appears sporadically in British and American writing until the middle of the twentieth century, when it suddenly gains traction and becomes a widespread adage.

The phrase is only a metaphor, not a description of actual practice. No one ever actually disposed of a baby along with the washing water.

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Sources:

Carlyle, Thomas. Occasional Discourse on the N[——] Question. London: Thomas Bosworth, 1853, 28–29. Gale Primary Sources: The Making of the Modern World. (The elision in the title is my own. Note, the original 1849 version of the essay, which does not contain the baby-bathwater metaphor, uses Negro in the title.)

Davies, Mark. Corpus of Historical American English, accessed 11 May 2022.

Google Books Ngram Viewer, accessed 11 May 2022.

Mieder, Wolfgang and Wayland D. Hand. “‘(Don’t) Throw the Baby Out with the Bath Water’: The Americanization of a German Proverb and Proverbial Expression.” Western Folklore, 50.4, October 1991, 361–400. JSTOR.

Murner, Thomas. Narrenbeschwörung. Halle: Max Niemeyer, 1894, 243. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

“On Prayer.” The Dial, February 1860, 129. Proquest Magazines.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, June 2011, s.v. baby, n. and adj.

Shapiro, Fred R. The New Yale Book of Quotations. New Haven: Yale UP, 2021, 664.

Tréguer, Pascal. “The German Origin of the Phrase ‘To Throw the Baby Out with the Bathwater.’Wordhistories.net, 23 November 2018.

Image credit: Unknown artist, 1512. Public domain image.