the meaning more effectively even to the small percentage of readers or
listeners who are familiar with French. Nor is there any gain in
_résumé_ when 'summary' and 'synopsis' and 'abstract' are all available.

The second question is perhaps not quite so simple: Is the French word
one which English has already accepted and made its own? We do not
really need _questionnaire_, since we have 'interrogatory', but if we
want it we can make shift with 'questionary'; and for _concessionnaire_
we can put 'concessionary'. To balance 'employer' there is 'employee',
better by far than _employé_, which insists on a French pronunciation.
Matthew Arnold and Lowell, always apt and exact in their use of their
own tongue, were careful to prefer the English 'technic' to the French
_technique_, which is not in harmony with the adjectives 'technical' and
_polytechnic_. So 'clinic' seems at last to have vanquished its French
father _clinique_, as 'fillet' has superseded _filet_; and now that
'valet' has become a verb it has taken on an English pronunciation.

Then there is _littérateur_. If a synonym for 'man of letters' is
demanded why not find it in 'literator', which Lockhart did not
hesitate to employ in the _Life of Scott_. It is pleasant to believe
that _communard_, which was prevalent fifty years ago after the burning
of the Tuileries, has been succeeded by 'communist' and that its
twin-brother _dynamitard_ is now rarely seen and even more rarely heard.
Perhaps some of the credit may be due to Stevenson, who entitled his
tale the _Dynamiter_ and appended a foot-note declaring that 'any
writard who writes _dynamitard_ shall find in me a never-resting
fightard'.

The third question may call for a little more consideration: Has the
foreign word been employed so often that it has ceased to be foreign