In the royal household of France, there was formerly an officer whose duty it was to superintend the roasting of the King’s meat; he was called the Hateur, apparently in the sense of his “hastening” or “expediting” that all-important operation.  The Fr. Hater, “to hasten or urge forward,” would produce the noun-substantive Hateur; and also the similar word Hatier, the French name for the roast-jack.  If we consider Rehateur to be the reduplicate of Hateur, we have only to make an allowable permutation of vowels, and the result will be the expressive old English word “Rehetour,” an appropriate name for the royal turnspit.  Wycliffe uses it, I think, in the sense of a superfluous servant, one whose duties, like the Hateur’s, were very light indeed.  He compares the founding of new Orders in an overburthened Church-establishment to the making of new offices in a household already crowded with useless (and consequently idle and vicious) servants.  The multitude of fat friars and burly monks charged upon the community were “the newe rehetours that ete mennes mete,” &c.

The term, thus implying an useless “do-nothing,” would soon become one of the myriad of choice epithets in the vulgar vocabulary, as in the instances from Dunbar and Kennedy.

In a better sense, a verb would be derived, easily; “to rehate,” or “rehete,” i.e. “to provide, {279} entertain, or refresh with meat,” and thence, “to feast with words,” as used by Chaucer and the old Romancists.

Mr. Halliwell’s authorities for rendering the participle “Rehating” by “Burning, or smarting,” are not given; but if such a meaning existed, it may have a ready explanation by reference to the Hauteur’s fireside labour, though suggestive of unskilfulness or carelessness on his part.

John Westby Gibson.

5.  Queen Square, Aldersgate Street, Feb. 8. 1850.

In answer to Dr. Todd’s inquiries, I would say, first of all, the “rehatours” of Douglas and the other Scots are beside his question, and a totally different word.  Feelings cherished in the mind will recur from time to time; and those malevolent persons, who thus retain them, were said to re-hate, as they are now said to re-sent.

But the verb really in question is, per se, a perfectly plain one, to re-heat.  The difficulty is as to its use.  The primary use, of course, is to heat again.  The nearest secondary use is “to cherish, cheer, or comfort, to refocillate;” which is too plain to require more words.  Another secondary meaning is “to re-vive or to re-kindle” in its metaphoric sense.  This may be said well, as of life, health, or hope; or ill, as of war, hatred, grief; or indifferently, as of love.  What difficulty Mr. Tyrwhitt could find in “the revival of Troilus’s bitter grief” being called “the reheating of his sore sighs,” I cannot imagine.  Even literal heat is not wanting to sighs, and is often ascribed to them by poets:  and lovers’ sighs are warm in every sense.  I think Tyrwhitt has thrown upon this passage the only darkness that involves it.