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diff --git a/12629-0.txt b/12629-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..09aac1d --- /dev/null +++ b/12629-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8489 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12629 *** + +LANGUAGE + +AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF SPEECH + +BY +EDWARD SAPIR + + +1939 + +1921 + + + + +PREFACE + + +This little book aims to give a certain perspective on the subject of +language rather than to assemble facts about it. It has little to say of +the ultimate psychological basis of speech and gives only enough of the +actual descriptive or historical facts of particular languages to +illustrate principles. Its main purpose is to show what I conceive +language to be, what is its variability in place and time, and what are +its relations to other fundamental human interests--the problem of +thought, the nature of the historical process, race, culture, art. + +The perspective thus gained will be useful, I hope, both to linguistic +students and to the outside public that is half inclined to dismiss +linguistic notions as the private pedantries of essentially idle minds. +Knowledge of the wider relations of their science is essential to +professional students of language if they are to be saved from a sterile +and purely technical attitude. Among contemporary writers of influence +on liberal thought Croce is one of the very few who have gained an +understanding of the fundamental significance of language. He has +pointed out its close relation to the problem of art. I am deeply +indebted to him for this insight. Quite aside from their intrinsic +interest, linguistic forms and historical processes have the greatest +possible diagnostic value for the understanding of some of the more +difficult and elusive problems in the psychology of thought and in the +strange, cumulative drift in the life of the human spirit that we call +history or progress or evolution. This value depends chiefly on the +unconscious and unrationalized nature of linguistic structure. + +I have avoided most of the technical terms and all of the technical +symbols of the linguistic academy. There is not a single diacritical +mark in the book. Where possible, the discussion is based on English +material. It was necessary, however, for the scheme of the book, which +includes a consideration of the protean forms in which human thought has +found expression, to quote some exotic instances. For these no apology +seems necessary. Owing to limitations of space I have had to leave out +many ideas or principles that I should have liked to touch upon. Other +points have had to be barely hinted at in a sentence or flying phrase. +Nevertheless, I trust that enough has here been brought together to +serve as a stimulus for the more fundamental study of a neglected field. + +I desire to express my cordial appreciation of the friendly advice and +helpful suggestions of a number of friends who have read the work in +manuscript, notably Profs. A.L. Kroeber and R.H. Lowie of the University +of California, Prof. W.D. Wallis of Reed College, and Prof. J. Zeitlin +of the University of Illinois. + +EDWARD SAPIR. + +OTTAWA, ONT., +April 8, 1921. + + + + +CONTENTS + +PREFACE + +CHAPTER + + I. INTRODUCTORY: LANGUAGE DEFINED + + Language a cultural, not a biologically inherited, function. + Futility of interjectional and sound-imitative theories of the + origin of speech. Definition of language. The psycho-physical basis + of speech. Concepts and language. Is thought possible without + language? Abbreviations and transfers of the speech process. The + universality of language. + + II. THE ELEMENTS OF SPEECH + + Sounds not properly elements of speech. Words and significant parts + of words (radical elements, grammatical elements). Types of words. + The word a formal, not a functional unit. The word has a real + psychological existence. The sentence. The cognitive, volitional, + and emotional aspects of speech. Feeling-tones of words. + + III. THE SOUNDS OF LANGUAGE + + The vast number of possible sounds. The articulating organs and + their share in the production of speech sounds: lungs, glottal + cords, nose, mouth and its parts. Vowel articulations. How and where + consonants are articulated. The phonetic habits of a language. The + "values" of sounds. Phonetic patterns. + + IV. FORM IN LANGUAGE: GRAMMATICAL PROCESSES + + Formal processes as distinct from grammatical functions. + Intercrossing of the two points of view. Six main types of + grammatical process. Word sequence as a method. Compounding of + radical elements. Affixing: prefixes and suffixes; infixes. Internal + vocalic change; consonantal change. Reduplication. Functional + variations of stress; of pitch. + + V. FORM IN LANGUAGE: GRAMMATICAL CONCEPTS + + Analysis of a typical English sentence. Types of concepts + illustrated by it. Inconsistent expression of analogous concepts. + How the same sentence may be expressed in other languages with + striking differences in the selection and grouping of concepts. + Essential and non-essential concepts. The mixing of essential + relational concepts with secondary ones of more concrete order. Form + for form's sake. Classification of linguistic concepts: basic or + concrete, derivational, concrete relational, pure relational. + Tendency for these types of concepts to flow into each other. + Categories expressed in various grammatical systems. Order and + stress as relating principles in the sentence. Concord. Parts of + speech: no absolute classification possible; noun and verb. + + VI. TYPES OF LINGUISTIC STRUCTURE + + The possibility of classifying languages. Difficulties. + Classification into form-languages and formless languages not valid. + Classification according to formal processes used not practicable. + Classification according to degree of synthesis. "Inflective" and + "agglutinative." Fusion and symbolism as linguistic techniques. + Agglutination. "Inflective" a confused term. Threefold + classification suggested: what types of concepts are expressed? what + is the prevailing technique? what is the degree of synthesis? Four + fundamental conceptual types. Examples tabulated. Historical test of + the validity of the suggested conceptual classification. + + VII. LANGUAGE AS A HISTORICAL PRODUCT: DRIFT + + Variability of language. Individual and dialectic variations. Time + variation or "drift." How dialects arise. Linguistic stocks. + Direction or "slope" of linguistic drift. Tendencies illustrated in + an English sentence. Hesitations of usage as symptomatic of the + direction of drift. Leveling tendencies in English. Weakening of + case elements. Tendency to fixed position in the sentence. Drift + toward the invariable word. + + VIII. LANGUAGE AS A HISTORICAL PRODUCT: PHONETIC LAW + + Parallels in drift in related languages. Phonetic law as illustrated + in the history of certain English and German vowels and consonants. + Regularity of phonetic law. Shifting of sounds without destruction + of phonetic pattern. Difficulty of explaining the nature of phonetic + drifts. Vowel mutation in English and German. Morphological + influence on phonetic change. Analogical levelings to offset + irregularities produced by phonetic laws. New morphological features + due to phonetic change. + + IX. HOW LANGUAGES INFLUENCE EACH OTHER + + Linguistic influences due to cultural contact. Borrowing of words. + Resistances to borrowing. Phonetic modification of borrowed words. + Phonetic interinfluencings of neighboring languages. Morphological + borrowings. Morphological resemblances as vestiges of genetic + relationship. + + X. LANGUAGE, RACE, AND CULTURE + + Naïve tendency to consider linguistic, racial, and cultural + groupings as congruent. Race and language need not correspond. + Cultural and linguistic boundaries not identical. Coincidences + between linguistic cleavages and those of language and culture due + to historical, not intrinsic psychological, causes. Language does + not in any deep sense "reflect" culture. + + XL LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE + + Language as the material or medium of literature. Literature may + move on the generalized linguistic plane or may be inseparable from + specific linguistic conditions. Language as a collective art. + Necessary esthetic advantages or limitations in any language. Style + as conditioned by inherent features of the language. Prosody as + conditioned by the phonetic dynamics of a language. + +INDEX + + + + +I + +INTRODUCTORY: LANGUAGE DEFINED + + +Speech is so familiar a feature of daily life that we rarely pause to +define it. It seems as natural to man as walking, and only less so than +breathing. Yet it needs but a moment's reflection to convince us that +this naturalness of speech is but an illusory feeling. The process of +acquiring speech is, in sober fact, an utterly different sort of thing +from the process of learning to walk. In the case of the latter +function, culture, in other words, the traditional body of social usage, +is not seriously brought into play. The child is individually equipped, +by the complex set of factors that we term biological heredity, to make +all the needed muscular and nervous adjustments that result in walking. +Indeed, the very conformation of these muscles and of the appropriate +parts of the nervous system may be said to be primarily adapted to the +movements made in walking and in similar activities. In a very real +sense the normal human being is predestined to walk, not because his +elders will assist him to learn the art, but because his organism is +prepared from birth, or even from the moment of conception, to take on +all those expenditures of nervous energy and all those muscular +adaptations that result in walking. To put it concisely, walking is an +inherent, biological function of man. + +Not so language. It is of course true that in a certain sense the +individual is predestined to talk, but that is due entirely to the +circumstance that he is born not merely in nature, but in the lap of a +society that is certain, reasonably certain, to lead him to its +traditions. Eliminate society and there is every reason to believe that +he will learn to walk, if, indeed, he survives at all. But it is just as +certain that he will never learn to talk, that is, to communicate ideas +according to the traditional system of a particular society. Or, again, +remove the new-born individual from the social environment into which he +has come and transplant him to an utterly alien one. He will develop the +art of walking in his new environment very much as he would have +developed it in the old. But his speech will be completely at variance +with the speech of his native environment. Walking, then, is a general +human activity that varies only within circumscribed limits as we pass +from individual to individual. Its variability is involuntary and +purposeless. Speech is a human activity that varies without assignable +limit as we pass from social group to social group, because it is a +purely historical heritage of the group, the product of long-continued +social usage. It varies as all creative effort varies--not as +consciously, perhaps, but none the less as truly as do the religions, +the beliefs, the customs, and the arts of different peoples. Walking is +an organic, an instinctive, function (not, of course, itself an +instinct); speech is a non-instinctive, acquired, "cultural" function. + +There is one fact that has frequently tended to prevent the recognition +of language as a merely conventional system of sound symbols, that has +seduced the popular mind into attributing to it an instinctive basis +that it does not really possess. This is the well-known observation that +under the stress of emotion, say of a sudden twinge of pain or of +unbridled joy, we do involuntarily give utterance to sounds that the +hearer interprets as indicative of the emotion itself. But there is all +the difference in the world between such involuntary expression of +feeling and the normal type of communication of ideas that is speech. +The former kind of utterance is indeed instinctive, but it is +non-symbolic; in other words, the sound of pain or the sound of joy does +not, as such, indicate the emotion, it does not stand aloof, as it were, +and announce that such and such an emotion is being felt. What it does +is to serve as a more or less automatic overflow of the emotional +energy; in a sense, it is part and parcel of the emotion itself. +Moreover, such instinctive cries hardly constitute communication in any +strict sense. They are not addressed to any one, they are merely +overheard, if heard at all, as the bark of a dog, the sound of +approaching footsteps, or the rustling of the wind is heard. If they +convey certain ideas to the hearer, it is only in the very general sense +in which any and every sound or even any phenomenon in our environment +may be said to convey an idea to the perceiving mind. If the involuntary +cry of pain which is conventionally represented by "Oh!" be looked upon +as a true speech symbol equivalent to some such idea as "I am in great +pain," it is just as allowable to interpret the appearance of clouds as +an equivalent symbol that carries the definite message "It is likely to +rain." A definition of language, however, that is so extended as to +cover every type of inference becomes utterly meaningless. + +The mistake must not be made of identifying our conventional +interjections (our oh! and ah! and sh!) with the instinctive cries +themselves. These interjections are merely conventional fixations of the +natural sounds. They therefore differ widely in various languages in +accordance with the specific phonetic genius of each of these. As such +they may be considered an integral portion of speech, in the properly +cultural sense of the term, being no more identical with the instinctive +cries themselves than such words as "cuckoo" and "kill-deer" are +identical with the cries of the birds they denote or than Rossini's +treatment of a storm in the overture to "William Tell" is in fact a +storm. In other words, the interjections and sound-imitative words of +normal speech are related to their natural prototypes as is art, a +purely social or cultural thing, to nature. It may be objected that, +though the interjections differ somewhat as we pass from language to +language, they do nevertheless offer striking family resemblances and +may therefore be looked upon as having grown up out of a common +instinctive base. But their case is nowise different from that, say, of +the varying national modes of pictorial representation. A Japanese +picture of a hill both differs from and resembles a typical modern +European painting of the same kind of hill. Both are suggested by and +both "imitate" the same natural feature. Neither the one nor the other +is the same thing as, or, in any intelligible sense, a direct outgrowth +of, this natural feature. The two modes of representation are not +identical because they proceed from differing historical traditions, are +executed with differing pictorial techniques. The interjections of +Japanese and English are, just so, suggested by a common natural +prototype, the instinctive cries, and are thus unavoidably suggestive of +each other. They differ, now greatly, now but little, because they are +builded out of historically diverse materials or techniques, the +respective linguistic traditions, phonetic systems, speech habits of the +two peoples. Yet the instinctive cries as such are practically identical +for all humanity, just as the human skeleton or nervous system is to all +intents and purposes a "fixed," that is, an only slightly and +"accidentally" variable, feature of man's organism. + +Interjections are among the least important of speech elements. Their +discussion is valuable mainly because it can be shown that even they, +avowedly the nearest of all language sounds to instinctive utterance, +are only superficially of an instinctive nature. Were it therefore +possible to demonstrate that the whole of language is traceable, in its +ultimate historical and psychological foundations, to the interjections, +it would still not follow that language is an instinctive activity. But, +as a matter of fact, all attempts so to explain the origin of speech +have been fruitless. There is no tangible evidence, historical or +otherwise, tending to show that the mass of speech elements and speech +processes has evolved out of the interjections. These are a very small +and functionally insignificant proportion of the vocabulary of language; +at no time and in no linguistic province that we have record of do we +see a noticeable tendency towards their elaboration into the primary +warp and woof of language. They are never more, at best, than a +decorative edging to the ample, complex fabric. + +What applies to the interjections applies with even greater force to the +sound-imitative words. Such words as "whippoorwill," "to mew," "to caw" +are in no sense natural sounds that man has instinctively or +automatically reproduced. They are just as truly creations of the human +mind, flights of the human fancy, as anything else in language. They do +not directly grow out of nature, they are suggested by it and play with +it. Hence the onomatopoetic theory of the origin of speech, the theory +that would explain all speech as a gradual evolution from sounds of an +imitative character, really brings us no nearer to the instinctive level +than is language as we know it to-day. As to the theory itself, it is +scarcely more credible than its interjectional counterpart. It is true +that a number of words which we do not now feel to have a +sound-imitative value can be shown to have once had a phonetic form that +strongly suggests their origin as imitations of natural sounds. Such is +the English word "to laugh." For all that, it is quite impossible to +show, nor does it seem intrinsically reasonable to suppose, that more +than a negligible proportion of the elements of speech or anything at +all of its formal apparatus is derivable from an onomatopoetic source. +However much we may be disposed on general principles to assign a +fundamental importance in the languages of primitive peoples to the +imitation of natural sounds, the actual fact of the matter is that these +languages show no particular preference for imitative words. Among the +most primitive peoples of aboriginal America, the Athabaskan tribes of +the Mackenzie River speak languages in which such words seem to be +nearly or entirely absent, while they are used freely enough in +languages as sophisticated as English and German. Such an instance shows +how little the essential nature of speech is concerned with the mere +imitation of things. + +The way is now cleared for a serviceable definition of language. +Language is a purely human and non-instinctive method of communicating +ideas, emotions, and desires by means of a system of voluntarily +produced symbols. These symbols are, in the first instance, auditory and +they are produced by the so-called "organs of speech." There is no +discernible instinctive basis in human speech as such, however much +instinctive expressions and the natural environment may serve as a +stimulus for the development of certain elements of speech, however much +instinctive tendencies, motor and other, may give a predetermined range +or mold to linguistic expression. Such human or animal communication, if +"communication" it may be called, as is brought about by involuntary, +instinctive cries is not, in our sense, language at all. + +I have just referred to the "organs of speech," and it would seem at +first blush that this is tantamount to an admission that speech itself +is an instinctive, biologically predetermined activity. We must not be +misled by the mere term. There are, properly speaking, no organs of +speech; there are only organs that are incidentally useful in the +production of speech sounds. The lungs, the larynx, the palate, the +nose, the tongue, the teeth, and the lips, are all so utilized, but they +are no more to be thought of as primary organs of speech than are the +fingers to be considered as essentially organs of piano-playing or the +knees as organs of prayer. Speech is not a simple activity that is +carried on by one or more organs biologically adapted to the purpose. It +is an extremely complex and ever-shifting network of adjustments--in the +brain, in the nervous system, and in the articulating and auditory +organs--tending towards the desired end of communication. The lungs +developed, roughly speaking, in connection with the necessary +biological function known as breathing; the nose, as an organ of smell; +the teeth, as organs useful in breaking up food before it was ready for +digestion. If, then, these and other organs are being constantly +utilized in speech, it is only because any organ, once existent and in +so far as it is subject to voluntary control, can be utilized by man for +secondary purposes. Physiologically, speech is an overlaid function, or, +to be more precise, a group of overlaid functions. It gets what service +it can out of organs and functions, nervous and muscular, that have come +into being and are maintained for very different ends than its own. + +It is true that physiological psychologists speak of the localization of +speech in the brain. This can only mean that the sounds of speech are +localized in the auditory tract of the brain, or in some circumscribed +portion of it, precisely as other classes of sounds are localized; and +that the motor processes involved in speech (such as the movements of +the glottal cords in the larynx, the movements of the tongue required to +pronounce the vowels, lip movements required to articulate certain +consonants, and numerous others) are localized in the motor tract +precisely as are all other impulses to special motor activities. In the +same way control is lodged in the visual tract of the brain over all +those processes of visual recognition involved in reading. Naturally the +particular points or clusters of points of localization in the several +tracts that refer to any element of language are connected in the brain +by paths of association, so that the outward, or psycho-physical, aspect +of language, is of a vast network of associated localizations in the +brain and lower nervous tracts, the auditory localizations being without +doubt the most fundamental of all for speech. However, a speechsound +localized in the brain, even when associated with the particular +movements of the "speech organs" that are required to produce it, is +very far from being an element of language. It must be further +associated with some element or group of elements of experience, say a +visual image or a class of visual images or a feeling of relation, +before it has even rudimentary linguistic significance. This "element" +of experience is the content or "meaning" of the linguistic unit; the +associated auditory, motor, and other cerebral processes that lie +immediately back of the act of speaking and the act of hearing speech +are merely a complicated symbol of or signal for these "meanings," of +which more anon. We see therefore at once that language as such is not +and cannot be definitely localized, for it consists of a peculiar +symbolic relation--physiologically an arbitrary one--between all +possible elements of consciousness on the one hand and certain selected +elements localized in the auditory, motor, and other cerebral and +nervous tracts on the other. If language can be said to be definitely +"localized" in the brain, it is only in that general and rather useless +sense in which all aspects of consciousness, all human interest and +activity, may be said to be "in the brain." Hence, we have no recourse +but to accept language as a fully formed functional system within man's +psychic or "spiritual" constitution. We cannot define it as an entity in +psycho-physical terms alone, however much the psycho-physical basis is +essential to its functioning in the individual. + +From the physiologist's or psychologist's point of view we may seem to +be making an unwarrantable abstraction in desiring to handle the subject +of speech without constant and explicit reference to that basis. +However, such an abstraction is justifiable. We can profitably discuss +the intention, the form, and the history of speech, precisely as we +discuss the nature of any other phase of human culture--say art or +religion--as an institutional or cultural entity, leaving the organic +and psychological mechanisms back of it as something to be taken for +granted. Accordingly, it must be clearly understood that this +introduction to the study of speech is not concerned with those aspects +of physiology and of physiological psychology that underlie speech. Our +study of language is not to be one of the genesis and operation of a +concrete mechanism; it is, rather, to be an inquiry into the function +and form of the arbitrary systems of symbolism that we term languages. + +I have already pointed out that the essence of language consists in the +assigning of conventional, voluntarily articulated, sounds, or of their +equivalents, to the diverse elements of experience. The word "house" is +not a linguistic fact if by it is meant merely the acoustic effect +produced on the ear by its constituent consonants and vowels, pronounced +in a certain order; nor the motor processes and tactile feelings which +make up the articulation of the word; nor the visual perception on the +part of the hearer of this articulation; nor the visual perception of +the word "house" on the written or printed page; nor the motor processes +and tactile feelings which enter into the writing of the word; nor the +memory of any or all of these experiences. It is only when these, and +possibly still other, associated experiences are automatically +associated with the image of a house that they begin to take on the +nature of a symbol, a word, an element of language. But the mere fact of +such an association is not enough. One might have heard a particular +word spoken in an individual house under such impressive circumstances +that neither the word nor the image of the house ever recur in +consciousness without the other becoming present at the same time. This +type of association does not constitute speech. The association must be +a purely symbolic one; in other words, the word must denote, tag off, +the image, must have no other significance than to serve as a counter to +refer to it whenever it is necessary or convenient to do so. Such an +association, voluntary and, in a sense, arbitrary as it is, demands a +considerable exercise of self-conscious attention. At least to begin +with, for habit soon makes the association nearly as automatic as any +and more rapid than most. + +But we have traveled a little too fast. Were the symbol "house"--whether +an auditory, motor, or visual experience or image--attached but to the +single image of a particular house once seen, it might perhaps, by an +indulgent criticism, be termed an element of speech, yet it is obvious +at the outset that speech so constituted would have little or no value +for purposes of communication. The world of our experiences must be +enormously simplified and generalized before it is possible to make a +symbolic inventory of all our experiences of things and relations; and +this inventory is imperative before we can convey ideas. The elements of +language, the symbols that ticket off experience, must therefore be +associated with whole groups, delimited classes, of experience rather +than with the single experiences themselves. Only so is communication +possible, for the single experience lodges in an individual +consciousness and is, strictly speaking, incommunicable. To be +communicated it needs to be referred to a class which is tacitly +accepted by the community as an identity. Thus, the single impression +which I have had of a particular house must be identified with all my +other impressions of it. Further, my generalized memory or my "notion" +of this house must be merged with the notions that all other individuals +who have seen the house have formed of it. The particular experience +that we started with has now been widened so as to embrace all possible +impressions or images that sentient beings have formed or may form of +the house in question. This first simplification of experience is at the +bottom of a large number of elements of speech, the so-called proper +nouns or names of single individuals or objects. It is, essentially, the +type of simplification which underlies, or forms the crude subject of, +history and art. But we cannot be content with this measure of reduction +of the infinity of experience. We must cut to the bone of things, we +must more or less arbitrarily throw whole masses of experience together +as similar enough to warrant their being looked upon--mistakenly, but +conveniently--as identical. This house and that house and thousands of +other phenomena of like character are thought of as having enough in +common, in spite of great and obvious differences of detail, to be +classed under the same heading. In other words, the speech element +"house" is the symbol, first and foremost, not of a single perception, +nor even of the notion of a particular object, but of a "concept," in +other words, of a convenient capsule of thought that embraces thousands +of distinct experiences and that is ready to take in thousands more. If +the single significant elements of speech are the symbols of concepts, +the actual flow of speech may be interpreted as a record of the setting +of these concepts into mutual relations. + +The question has often been raised whether thought is possible without +speech; further, if speech and thought be not but two facets of the same +psychic process. The question is all the more difficult because it has +been hedged about by misunderstandings. In the first place, it is well +to observe that whether or not thought necessitates symbolism, that is +speech, the flow of language itself is not always indicative of thought. +We have seen that the typical linguistic element labels a concept. It +does not follow from this that the use to which language is put is +always or even mainly conceptual. We are not in ordinary life so much +concerned with concepts as such as with concrete particularities and +specific relations. When I say, for instance, "I had a good breakfast +this morning," it is clear that I am not in the throes of laborious +thought, that what I have to transmit is hardly more than a pleasurable +memory symbolically rendered in the grooves of habitual expression. Each +element in the sentence defines a separate concept or conceptual +relation or both combined, but the sentence as a whole has no conceptual +significance whatever. It is somewhat as though a dynamo capable of +generating enough power to run an elevator were operated almost +exclusively to feed an electric door-bell. The parallel is more +suggestive than at first sight appears. Language may be looked upon as +an instrument capable of running a gamut of psychic uses. Its flow not +only parallels that of the inner content of consciousness, but parallels +it on different levels, ranging from the state of mind that is dominated +by particular images to that in which abstract concepts and their +relations are alone at the focus of attention and which is ordinarily +termed reasoning. Thus the outward form only of language is constant; +its inner meaning, its psychic value or intensity, varies freely with +attention or the selective interest of the mind, also, needless to say, +with the mind's general development. From the point of view of +language, thought may be defined as the highest latent or potential +content of speech, the content that is obtained by interpreting each of +the elements in the flow of language as possessed of its very fullest +conceptual value. From this it follows at once that language and thought +are not strictly coterminous. At best language can but be the outward +facet of thought on the highest, most generalized, level of symbolic +expression. To put our viewpoint somewhat differently, language is +primarily a pre-rational function. It humbly works up to the thought +that is latent in, that may eventually be read into, its classifications +and its forms; it is not, as is generally but naïvely assumed, the final +label put upon, the finished thought. + +Most people, asked if they can think without speech, would probably +answer, "Yes, but it is not easy for me to do so. Still I know it can be +done." Language is but a garment! But what if language is not so much a +garment as a prepared road or groove? It is, indeed, in the highest +degree likely that language is an instrument originally put to uses +lower than the conceptual plane and that thought arises as a refined +interpretation of its content. The product grows, in other words, with +the instrument, and thought may be no more conceivable, in its genesis +and daily practice, without speech than is mathematical reasoning +practicable without the lever of an appropriate mathematical symbolism. +No one believes that even the most difficult mathematical proposition is +inherently dependent on an arbitrary set of symbols, but it is +impossible to suppose that the human mind is capable of arriving at or +holding such a proposition without the symbolism. The writer, for one, +is strongly of the opinion that the feeling entertained by so many that +they can think, or even reason, without language is an illusion. The +illusion seems to be due to a number of factors. The simplest of these +is the failure to distinguish between imagery and thought. As a matter +of fact, no sooner do we try to put an image into conscious relation +with another than we find ourselves slipping into a silent flow of +words. Thought may be a natural domain apart from the artificial one of +speech, but speech would seem to be the only road we know of that leads +to it. A still more fruitful source of the illusive feeling that +language may be dispensed with in thought is the common failure to +realize that language is not identical with its auditory symbolism. The +auditory symbolism may be replaced, point for point, by a motor or by a +visual symbolism (many people can read, for instance, in a purely visual +sense, that is, without the intermediating link of an inner flow of the +auditory images that correspond to the printed or written words) or by +still other, more subtle and elusive, types of transfer that are not so +easy to define. Hence the contention that one thinks without language +merely because he is not aware of a coexisting auditory imagery is very +far indeed from being a valid one. One may go so far as to suspect that +the symbolic expression of thought may in some cases run along outside +the fringe of the conscious mind, so that the feeling of a free, +nonlinguistic stream of thought is for minds of a certain type a +relatively, but only a relatively, justified one. Psycho-physically, +this would mean that the auditory or equivalent visual or motor centers +in the brain, together with the appropriate paths of association, that +are the cerebral equivalent of speech, are touched off so lightly during +the process of thought as not to rise into consciousness at all. This +would be a limiting case--thought riding lightly on the submerged crests +of speech, instead of jogging along with it, hand in hand. The modern +psychology has shown us how powerfully symbolism is at work in the +unconscious mind. It is therefore easier to understand at the present +time than it would have been twenty years ago that the most rarefied +thought may be but the conscious counterpart of an unconscious +linguistic symbolism. + +One word more as to the relation between language and thought. The point +of view that we have developed does not by any means preclude the +possibility of the growth of speech being in a high degree dependent on +the development of thought. We may assume that language arose +pre-rationally--just how and on what precise level of mental activity we +do not know--but we must not imagine that a highly developed system of +speech symbols worked itself out before the genesis of distinct concepts +and of thinking, the handling of concepts. We must rather imagine that +thought processes set in, as a kind of psychic overflow, almost at the +beginning of linguistic expression; further, that the concept, once +defined, necessarily reacted on the life of its linguistic symbol, +encouraging further linguistic growth. We see this complex process of +the interaction of language and thought actually taking place under our +eyes. The instrument makes possible the product, the product refines the +instrument. The birth of a new concept is invariably foreshadowed by a +more or less strained or extended use of old linguistic material; the +concept does not attain to individual and independent life until it has +found a distinctive linguistic embodiment. In most cases the new symbol +is but a thing wrought from linguistic material already in existence in +ways mapped out by crushingly despotic precedents. As soon as the word +is at hand, we instinctively feel, with something of a sigh of relief, +that the concept is ours for the handling. Not until we own the symbol +do we feel that we hold a key to the immediate knowledge or +understanding of the concept. Would we be so ready to die for "liberty," +to struggle for "ideals," if the words themselves were not ringing +within us? And the word, as we know, is not only a key; it may also be a +fetter. + +Language is primarily an auditory system of symbols. In so far as it is +articulated it is also a motor system, but the motor aspect of speech is +clearly secondary to the auditory. In normal individuals the impulse to +speech first takes effect in the sphere of auditory imagery and is then +transmitted to the motor nerves that control the organs of speech. The +motor processes and the accompanying motor feelings are not, however, +the end, the final resting point. They are merely a means and a control +leading to auditory perception in both speaker and hearer. +Communication, which is the very object of speech, is successfully +effected only when the hearer's auditory perceptions are translated into +the appropriate and intended flow of imagery or thought or both +combined. Hence the cycle of speech, in so far as we may look upon it as +a purely external instrument, begins and ends in the realm of sounds. +The concordance between the initial auditory imagery and the final +auditory perceptions is the social seal or warrant of the successful +issue of the process. As we have already seen, the typical course of +this process may undergo endless modifications or transfers into +equivalent systems without thereby losing its essential formal +characteristics. + +The most important of these modifications is the abbreviation of the +speech process involved in thinking. This has doubtless many forms, +according to the structural or functional peculiarities of the +individual mind. The least modified form is that known as "talking to +one's self" or "thinking aloud." Here the speaker and the hearer are +identified in a single person, who may be said to communicate with +himself. More significant is the still further abbreviated form in which +the sounds of speech are not articulated at all. To this belong all the +varieties of silent speech and of normal thinking. The auditory centers +alone may be excited; or the impulse to linguistic expression may be +communicated as well to the motor nerves that communicate with the +organs of speech but be inhibited either in the muscles of these organs +or at some point in the motor nerves themselves; or, possibly, the +auditory centers may be only slightly, if at all, affected, the speech +process manifesting itself directly in the motor sphere. There must be +still other types of abbreviation. How common is the excitation of the +motor nerves in silent speech, in which no audible or visible +articulations result, is shown by the frequent experience of fatigue in +the speech organs, particularly in the larynx, after unusually +stimulating reading or intensive thinking. + +All the modifications so far considered are directly patterned on the +typical process of normal speech. Of very great interest and importance +is the possibility of transferring the whole system of speech symbolism +into other terms than those that are involved in the typical process. +This process, as we have seen, is a matter of sounds and of movements +intended to produce these sounds. The sense of vision is not brought +into play. But let us suppose that one not only hears the articulated +sounds but sees the articulations themselves as they are being executed +by the speaker. Clearly, if one can only gain a sufficiently high degree +of adroitness in perceiving these movements of the speech organs, the +way is opened for a new type of speech symbolism--that in which the +sound is replaced by the visual image of the articulations that +correspond to the sound. This sort of system has no great value for most +of us because we are already possessed of the auditory-motor system of +which it is at best but an imperfect translation, not all the +articulations being visible to the eye. However, it is well known what +excellent use deaf-mutes can make of "reading from the lips" as a +subsidiary method of apprehending speech. The most important of all +visual speech symbolisms is, of course, that of the written or printed +word, to which, on the motor side, corresponds the system of delicately +adjusted movements which result in the writing or typewriting or other +graphic method of recording speech. The significant feature for our +recognition in these new types of symbolism, apart from the fact that +they are no longer a by-product of normal speech itself, is that each +element (letter or written word) in the system corresponds to a specific +element (sound or sound-group or spoken word) in the primary system. +Written language is thus a point-to-point equivalence, to borrow a +mathematical phrase, to its spoken counterpart. The written forms are +secondary symbols of the spoken ones--symbols of symbols--yet so close +is the correspondence that they may, not only in theory but in the +actual practice of certain eye-readers and, possibly, in certain types +of thinking, be entirely substituted for the spoken ones. Yet the +auditory-motor associations are probably always latent at the least, +that is, they are unconsciously brought into play. Even those who read +and think without the slightest use of sound imagery are, at last +analysis, dependent on it. They are merely handling the circulating +medium, the money, of visual symbols as a convenient substitute for the +economic goods and services of the fundamental auditory symbols. + +The possibilities of linguistic transfer are practically unlimited. A +familiar example is the Morse telegraph code, in which the letters of +written speech are represented by a conventionally fixed sequence of +longer or shorter ticks. Here the transfer takes place from the written +word rather than directly from the sounds of spoken speech. The letter +of the telegraph code is thus a symbol of a symbol of a symbol. It does +not, of course, in the least follow that the skilled operator, in order +to arrive at an understanding of a telegraphic message, needs to +transpose the individual sequence of ticks into a visual image of the +word before he experiences its normal auditory image. The precise method +of reading off speech from the telegraphic communication undoubtedly +varies widely with the individual. It is even conceivable, if not +exactly likely, that certain operators may have learned to think +directly, so far as the purely conscious part of the process of thought +is concerned, in terms of the tick-auditory symbolism or, if they happen +to have a strong natural bent toward motor symbolism, in terms of the +correlated tactile-motor symbolism developed in the sending of +telegraphic messages. + +Still another interesting group of transfers are the different gesture +languages, developed for the use of deaf-mutes, of Trappist monks vowed +to perpetual silence, or of communicating parties that are within seeing +distance of each other but are out of earshot. Some of these systems are +one-to-one equivalences of the normal system of speech; others, like +military gesture-symbolism or the gesture language of the Plains Indians +of North America (understood by tribes of mutually unintelligible forms +of speech) are imperfect transfers, limiting themselves to the rendering +of such grosser speech elements as are an imperative minimum under +difficult circumstances. In these latter systems, as in such still more +imperfect symbolisms as those used at sea or in the woods, it may be +contended that language no longer properly plays a part but that the +ideas are directly conveyed by an utterly unrelated symbolic process or +by a quasi-instinctive imitativeness. Such an interpretation would be +erroneous. The intelligibility of these vaguer symbolisms can hardly be +due to anything but their automatic and silent translation into the +terms of a fuller flow of speech. + +We shall no doubt conclude that all voluntary communication of ideas, +aside from normal speech, is either a transfer, direct or indirect, from +the typical symbolism of language as spoken and heard or, at the least, +involves the intermediary of truly linguistic symbolism. This is a fact +of the highest importance. Auditory imagery and the correlated motor +imagery leading to articulation are, by whatever devious ways we follow +the process, the historic fountain-head of all speech and of all +thinking. One other point is of still greater importance. The ease with +which speech symbolism can be transferred from one sense to another, +from technique to technique, itself indicates that the mere sounds of +speech are not the essential fact of language, which lies rather in the +classification, in the formal patterning, and in the relating of +concepts. Once more, language, as a structure, is on its inner face the +mold of thought. It is this abstracted language, rather more than the +physical facts of speech, that is to concern us in our inquiry. + +There is no more striking general fact about language than its +universality. One may argue as to whether a particular tribe engages in +activities that are worthy of the name of religion or of art, but we +know of no people that is not possessed of a fully developed language. +The lowliest South African Bushman speaks in the forms of a rich +symbolic system that is in essence perfectly comparable to the speech of +the cultivated Frenchman. It goes without saying that the more abstract +concepts are not nearly so plentifully represented in the language of +the savage, nor is there the rich terminology and the finer definition +of nuances that reflect the higher culture. Yet the sort of linguistic +development that parallels the historic growth of culture and which, in +its later stages, we associate with literature is, at best, but a +superficial thing. The fundamental groundwork of language--the +development of a clear-cut phonetic system, the specific association of +speech elements with concepts, and the delicate provision for the formal +expression of all manner of relations--all this meets us rigidly +perfected and systematized in every language known to us. Many primitive +languages have a formal richness, a latent luxuriance of expression, +that eclipses anything known to the languages of modern civilization. +Even in the mere matter of the inventory of speech the layman must be +prepared for strange surprises. Popular statements as to the extreme +poverty of expression to which primitive languages are doomed are simply +myths. Scarcely less impressive than the universality of speech is its +almost incredible diversity. Those of us that have studied French or +German, or, better yet, Latin or Greek, know in what varied forms a +thought may run. The formal divergences between the English plan and the +Latin plan, however, are comparatively slight in the perspective of what +we know of more exotic linguistic patterns. The universality and the +diversity of speech lead to a significant inference. We are forced to +believe that language is an immensely ancient heritage of the human +race, whether or not all forms of speech are the historical outgrowth of +a single pristine form. It is doubtful if any other cultural asset of +man, be it the art of drilling for fire or of chipping stone, may lay +claim to a greater age. I am inclined to believe that it antedated even +the lowliest developments of material culture, that these developments, +in fact, were not strictly possible until language, the tool of +significant expression, had itself taken shape. + + + + +II + +THE ELEMENTS OF SPEECH + + +We have more than once referred to the "elements of speech," by which we +understood, roughly speaking, what are ordinarily called "words." We +must now look more closely at these elements and acquaint ourselves with +the stuff of language. The very simplest element of speech--and by +"speech" we shall hence-forth mean the auditory system of speech +symbolism, the flow of spoken words--is the individual sound, though, as +we shall see later on, the sound is not itself a simple structure but +the resultant of a series of independent, yet closely correlated, +adjustments in the organs of speech. And yet the individual sound is +not, properly considered, an element of speech at all, for speech is a +significant function and the sound as such has no significance. It +happens occasionally that the single sound is an independently +significant element (such as French _a_ "has" and _à_ "to" or Latin _i_ +"go!"), but such cases are fortuitous coincidences between individual +sound and significant word. The coincidence is apt to be fortuitous not +only in theory but in point of actual historic fact; thus, the instances +cited are merely reduced forms of originally fuller phonetic +groups--Latin _habet_ and _ad_ and Indo-European _ei_ respectively. If +language is a structure and if the significant elements of language are +the bricks of the structure, then the sounds of speech can only be +compared to the unformed and unburnt clay of which the bricks are +fashioned. In this chapter we shall have nothing further to do with +sounds as sounds. + +The true, significant elements of language are generally sequences of +sounds that are either words, significant parts of words, or word +groupings. What distinguishes each of these elements is that it is the +outward sign of a specific idea, whether of a single concept or image or +of a number of such concepts or images definitely connected into a +whole. The single word may or may not be the simplest significant +element we have to deal with. The English words _sing_, _sings_, +_singing_, _singer_ each conveys a perfectly definite and intelligible +idea, though the idea is disconnected and is therefore functionally of +no practical value. We recognize immediately that these words are of two +sorts. The first word, _sing_, is an indivisible phonetic entity +conveying the notion of a certain specific activity. The other words all +involve the same fundamental notion but, owing to the addition of other +phonetic elements, this notion is given a particular twist that modifies +or more closely defines it. They represent, in a sense, compounded +concepts that have flowered from the fundamental one. We may, therefore, +analyze the words _sings_, _singing_, and _singer_ as binary expressions +involving a fundamental concept, a concept of subject matter (_sing_), +and a further concept of more abstract order--one of person, number, +time, condition, function, or of several of these combined. + +If we symbolize such a term as _sing_ by the algebraic formula A, we +shall have to symbolize such terms as _sings_ and _singer_ by the +formula A + b.[1] The element A may be either a complete and independent +word (_sing_) or the fundamental substance, the so-called root or +stem[2] or "radical element" (_sing-_) of a word. The element b (_-s_, +_-ing_, _-er_) is the indicator of a subsidiary and, as a rule, a more +abstract concept; in the widest sense of the word "form," it puts upon +the fundamental concept a formal limitation. We may term it a +"grammatical element" or affix. As we shall see later on, the +grammatical element or the grammatical increment, as we had better put +it, need not be suffixed to the radical element. It may be a prefixed +element (like the _un-_ of _unsingable_), it may be inserted into the +very body of the stem (like the _n_ of the Latin _vinco_ "I conquer" as +contrasted with its absence in _vici_ "I have conquered"), it may be the +complete or partial repetition of the stem, or it may consist of some +modification of the inner form of the stem (change of vowel, as in +_sung_ and _song_; change of consonant as in _dead_ and _death_; change +of accent; actual abbreviation). Each and every one of these types of +grammatical element or modification has this peculiarity, that it may +not, in the vast majority of cases, be used independently but needs to +be somehow attached to or welded with a radical element in order to +convey an intelligible notion. We had better, therefore, modify our +formula, A + b, to A + (b), the round brackets symbolizing the +incapacity of an element to stand alone. The grammatical element, +moreover, is not only non-existent except as associated with a radical +one, it does not even, as a rule, obtain its measure of significance +unless it is associated with a particular class of radical elements. +Thus, the _-s_ of English _he hits_ symbolizes an utterly different +notion from the _-s_ of _books_, merely because _hit_ and _book_ are +differently classified as to function. We must hasten to observe, +however, that while the radical element may, on occasion, be identical +with the word, it does not follow that it may always, or even +customarily, be used as a word. Thus, the _hort-_ "garden" of such Latin +forms as _hortus_, _horti_, and _horto_ is as much of an abstraction, +though one yielding a more easily apprehended significance, than the +_-ing_ of _singing_. Neither exists as an independently intelligible and +satisfying element of speech. Both the radical element, as such, and the +grammatical element, therefore, are reached only by a process of +abstraction. It seemed proper to symbolize _sing-er_ as A + (b); +_hort-us_ must be symbolized as (A) + (b). + +[Footnote 1: We shall reserve capitals for radical elements.] + +[Footnote 2: These words are not here used in a narrowly technical +sense.] + +So far, the first speech element that we have found which we can say +actually "exists" is the word. Before defining the word, however, we +must look a little more closely at the type of word that is illustrated +by _sing_. Are we, after all, justified in identifying it with a radical +element? Does it represent a simple correspondence between concept and +linguistic expression? Is the element _sing-_, that we have abstracted +from _sings_, _singing_, and _singer_ and to which we may justly ascribe +a general unmodified conceptual value, actually the same linguistic fact +as the word _sing_? It would almost seem absurd to doubt it, yet a +little reflection only is needed to convince us that the doubt is +entirely legitimate. The word _sing_ cannot, as a matter of fact, be +freely used to refer to its own conceptual content. The existence of +such evidently related forms as _sang_ and _sung_ at once shows that it +cannot refer to past time, but that, for at least an important part of +its range of usage, it is limited to the present. On the other hand, the +use of _sing_ as an "infinitive" (in such locutions as _to sing_ and _he +will sing_) does indicate that there is a fairly strong tendency for the +word _sing_ to represent the full, untrammeled amplitude of a specific +concept. Yet if _sing_ were, in any adequate sense, the fixed +expression of the unmodified concept, there should be no room for such +vocalic aberrations as we find in _sang_ and _sung_ and _song_, nor +should we find _sing_ specifically used to indicate present time for all +persons but one (third person singular _sings_). + +The truth of the matter is that _sing_ is a kind of twilight word, +trembling between the status of a true radical element and that of a +modified word of the type of _singing_. Though it has no outward sign to +indicate that it conveys more than a generalized idea, we do feel that +there hangs about it a variable mist of added value. The formula A does +not seem to represent it so well as A + (0). We might suspect _sing_ of +belonging to the A + (b) type, with the reservation that the (b) had +vanished. This report of the "feel" of the word is far from fanciful, +for historical evidence does, in all earnest, show that _sing_ is in +origin a number of quite distinct words, of type A + (b), that have +pooled their separate values. The (b) of each of these has gone as a +tangible phonetic element; its force, however, lingers on in weakened +measure. The _sing_ of _I sing_ is the correspondent of the Anglo-Saxon +_singe_; the infinitive _sing_, of _singan_; the imperative _sing_ of +_sing_. Ever since the breakdown of English forms that set in about the +time of the Norman Conquest, our language has been straining towards the +creation of simple concept-words, unalloyed by formal connotations, but +it has not yet succeeded in this, apart, possibly, from isolated adverbs +and other elements of that sort. Were the typical unanalyzable word of +the language truly a pure concept-word (type A) instead of being of a +strangely transitional type (type A + [0]), our _sing_ and _work_ and +_house_ and thousands of others would compare with the genuine +radical-words of numerous other languages.[3] Such a radical-word, to +take a random example, is the Nootka[4] word _hamot_ "bone." Our English +correspondent is only superficially comparable. _Hamot_ means "bone" in +a quite indefinite sense; to our English word clings the notion of +singularity. The Nootka Indian can convey the idea of plurality, in one +of several ways, if he so desires, but he does not need to; _hamot_ may +do for either singular or plural, should no interest happen to attach to +the distinction. As soon as we say "bone" (aside from its secondary +usage to indicate material), we not merely specify the nature of the +object but we imply, whether we will or no, that there is but one of +these objects to be considered. And this increment of value makes all +the difference. + +[Footnote 3: It is not a question of the general isolating character of +such languages as Chinese (see Chapter VI). Radical-words may and do +occur in languages of all varieties, many of them of a high degree of +complexity.] + +[Footnote 4: Spoken by a group of Indian tribes in Vancouver Island.] + +We now know of four distinct formal types of word: A (Nootka _hamot_); +A + (0) (_sing_, _bone_); A + (b) (_singing_); (A) + (b) (Latin +_hortus_). There is but one other type that is fundamentally possible: +A + B, the union of two (or more) independently occurring radical +elements into a single term. Such a word is the compound _fire-engine_ +or a Sioux form equivalent to _eat-stand_ (i.e., "to eat while +standing"). It frequently happens, however, that one of the radical +elements becomes functionally so subordinated to the other that it takes +on the character of a grammatical element. We may symbolize this by +A + b, a type that may gradually, by loss of external connection between +the subordinated element b and its independent counterpart B merge with +the commoner type A + (b). A word like _beautiful_ is an example of +A + b, the _-ful_ barely preserving the impress of its lineage. A word +like _homely_, on the other hand, is clearly of the type A + (b), for no +one but a linguistic student is aware of the connection between the +_-ly_ and the independent word _like_. + +In actual use, of course, these five (or six) fundamental types may be +indefinitely complicated in a number of ways. The (0) may have a +multiple value; in other words, the inherent formal modification of the +basic notion of the word may affect more than one category. In such a +Latin word as _cor_ "heart," for instance, not only is a concrete +concept conveyed, but there cling to the form, which is actually shorter +than its own radical element (_cord-_), the three distinct, yet +intertwined, formal concepts of singularity, gender classification +(neuter), and case (subjective-objective). The complete grammatical +formula for _cor_ is, then, A + (0) + (0) + (0), though the merely +external, phonetic formula would be (A)--, (A) indicating the abstracted +"stem" _cord-_, the minus sign a loss of material. The significant thing +about such a word as _cor_ is that the three conceptual limitations are +not merely expressed by implication as the word sinks into place in a +sentence; they are tied up, for good and all, within the very vitals of +the word and cannot be eliminated by any possibility of usage. + +Other complications result from a manifolding of parts. In a given word +there may be several elements of the order A (we have already symbolized +this by the type A + B), of the order (A), of the order b, and of the +order (b). Finally, the various types may be combined among themselves +in endless ways. A comparatively simple language like English, or even +Latin, illustrates but a modest proportion of these theoretical +possibilities. But if we take our examples freely from the vast +storehouse of language, from languages exotic as well as from those that +we are more familiar with, we shall find that there is hardly a +possibility that is not realized in actual usage. One example will do +for thousands, one complex type for hundreds of possible types. I select +it from Paiute, the language of the Indians of the arid plateaus of +southwestern Utah. The word +_wii-to-kuchum-punku-rügani-yugwi-va-ntü-m(ü)_[5] is of unusual length +even for its own language, but it is no psychological monster for all +that. It means "they who are going to sit and cut up with a knife a +black cow (_or_ bull)," or, in the order of the Indian elements, +"knife-black-buffalo-pet-cut up-sit(plur.)-future-participle-animate +plur." The formula for this word, in accordance with our symbolism, +would be (F) + (E) + C + d + A + B + (g) + (h) + (i) + (0). It is the +plural of the future participle of a compound verb "to sit and cut +up"--A + B. The elements (g)--which denotes futurity--, (h)--a +participial suffix--, and (i)--indicating the animate plural--are +grammatical elements which convey nothing when detached. The formula (0) +is intended to imply that the finished word conveys, in addition to what +is definitely expressed, a further relational idea, that of +subjectivity; in other words, the form can only be used as the subject +of a sentence, not in an objective or other syntactic relation. The +radical element A ("to cut up"), before entering into combination with +the coördinate element B ("to sit"), is itself compounded with two +nominal elements or element-groups--an instrumentally used stem (F) +("knife"), which may be freely used as the radical element of noun +forms but cannot be employed as an absolute noun in its given form, and +an objectively used group--(E) + C + d ("black cow _or_ bull"). This +group in turn consists of an adjectival radical element (E) ("black"), +which cannot be independently employed (the absolute notion of "black" +can be rendered only as the participle of a verb: "black-be-ing"), and +the compound noun C + d ("buffalo-pet"). The radical element C properly +means "buffalo," but the element d, properly an independently occurring +noun meaning "horse" (originally "dog" or "domesticated animal" in +general), is regularly used as a quasi-subordinate element indicating +that the animal denoted by the stem to which it is affixed is owned by a +human being. It will be observed that the whole complex +(F) + (E) + C + d + A + B is functionally no more than a verbal base, +corresponding to the _sing-_ of an English form like _singing_; that +this complex remains verbal in force on the addition of the temporal +element (g)--this (g), by the way, must not be understood as appended to +B alone, but to the whole basic complex as a unit--; and that the +elements (h) + (i) + (0) transform the verbal expression into a formally +well-defined noun. + +[Footnote 5: In this and other examples taken from exotic languages I am +forced by practical considerations to simplify the actual phonetic +forms. This should not matter perceptibly, as we are concerned with form +as such, not with phonetic content.] + +It is high time that we decided just what is meant by a word. Our first +impulse, no doubt, would have been to define the word as the symbolic, +linguistic counterpart of a single concept. We now know that such a +definition is impossible. In truth it is impossible to define the word +from a functional standpoint at all, for the word may be anything from +the expression of a single concept--concrete or abstract or purely +relational (as in _of_ or _by_ or _and_)--to the expression of a +complete thought (as in Latin _dico_ "I say" or, with greater +elaborateness of form, in a Nootka verb form denoting "I have been +accustomed to eat twenty round objects [e.g., apples] while engaged in +[doing so and so]"). In the latter case the word becomes identical with +the sentence. The word is merely a form, a definitely molded entity that +takes in as much or as little of the conceptual material of the whole +thought as the genius of the language cares to allow. Thus it is that +while the single radical elements and grammatical elements, the carriers +of isolated concepts, are comparable as we pass from language to +language, the finished words are not. Radical (or grammatical) element +and sentence--these are the primary _functional_ units of speech, the +former as an abstracted minimum, the latter as the esthetically +satisfying embodiment of a unified thought. The actual _formal_ units of +speech, the words, may on occasion identify themselves with either of +the two functional units; more often they mediate between the two +extremes, embodying one or more radical notions and also one or more +subsidiary ones. We may put the whole matter in a nutshell by saying +that the radical and grammatical elements of language, abstracted as +they are from the realities of speech, respond to the conceptual world +of science, abstracted as it is from the realities of experience, and +that the word, the existent unit of living speech, responds to the unit +of actually apprehended experience, of history, of art. The sentence is +the logical counterpart of the complete thought only if it be felt as +made up of the radical and grammatical elements that lurk in the +recesses of its words. It is the psychological counterpart of +experience, of art, when it is felt, as indeed it normally is, as the +finished play of word with word. As the necessity of defining thought +solely and exclusively for its own sake becomes more urgent, the word +becomes increasingly irrelevant as a means. We can therefore easily +understand why the mathematician and the symbolic logician are driven to +discard the word and to build up their thought with the help of symbols +which have, each of them, a rigidly unitary value. + +But is not the word, one may object, as much of an abstraction as the +radical element? Is it not as arbitrarily lifted out of the living +sentence as is the minimum conceptual element out of the word? Some +students of language have, indeed, looked upon the word as such an +abstraction, though with very doubtful warrant, it seems to me. It is +true that in particular cases, especially in some of the highly +synthetic languages of aboriginal America, it is not always easy to say +whether a particular element of language is to be interpreted as an +independent word or as part of a larger word. These transitional cases, +puzzling as they may be on occasion, do not, however, materially weaken +the case for the psychological validity of the word. Linguistic +experience, both as expressed in standardized, written form and as +tested in daily usage, indicates overwhelmingly that there is not, as a +rule, the slightest difficulty in bringing the word to consciousness as +a psychological reality. No more convincing test could be desired than +this, that the naive Indian, quite unaccustomed to the concept of the +written word, has nevertheless no serious difficulty in dictating a text +to a linguistic student word by word; he tends, of course, to run his +words together as in actual speech, but if he is called to a halt and is +made to understand what is desired, he can readily isolate the words as +such, repeating them as units. He regularly refuses, on the other hand, +to isolate the radical or grammatical element, on the ground that it +"makes no sense."[6] What, then, is the objective criterion of the word? +The speaker and hearer feel the word, let us grant, but how shall we +justify their feeling? If function is not the ultimate criterion of the +word, what is? + +[Footnote 6: These oral experiences, which I have had time and again as +a field student of American Indian languages, are very neatly confirmed +by personal experiences of another sort. Twice I have taught intelligent +young Indians to write their own languages according to the phonetic +system which I employ. They were taught merely how to render accurately +the sounds as such. Both had some difficulty in learning to break up a +word into its constituent sounds, but none whatever in determining the +words. This they both did with spontaneous and complete accuracy. In the +hundreds of pages of manuscript Nootka text that I have obtained from +one of these young Indians the words, whether abstract relational +entities like English _that_ and _but_ or complex sentence-words like +the Nootka example quoted above, are, practically without exception, +isolated precisely as I or any other student would have isolated them. +Such experiences with naïve speakers and recorders do more to convince +one of the definitely plastic unity of the word than any amount of +purely theoretical argument.] + +It is easier to ask the question than to answer it. The best that we can +do is to say that the word is one of the smallest, completely satisfying +bits of isolated "meaning" into which the sentence resolves itself. It +cannot be cut into without a disturbance of meaning, one or the other or +both of the severed parts remaining as a helpless waif on our hands. In +practice this unpretentious criterion does better service than might be +supposed. In such a sentence as _It is unthinkable_, it is simply +impossible to group the elements into any other and smaller "words" than +the three indicated. _Think_ or _thinkable_ might be isolated, but as +neither _un-_ nor _-able_ nor _is-un_ yields a measurable satisfaction, +we are compelled to leave _unthinkable_ as an integral whole, a +miniature bit of art. Added to the "feel" of the word are frequently, +but by no means invariably, certain external phonetic characteristics. +Chief of these is accent. In many, perhaps in most, languages the single +word is marked by a unifying accent, an emphasis on one of the +syllables, to which the rest are subordinated. The particular syllable +that is to be so distinguished is dependent, needless to say, on the +special genius of the language. The importance of accent as a unifying +feature of the word is obvious in such English examples as +_unthinkable_, _characterizing_. The long Paiute word that we have +analyzed is marked as a rigid phonetic unit by several features, chief +of which are the accent on its second syllable (_wii'_-"knife") and the +slurring ("unvoicing," to use the technical phonetic term) of its final +vowel (_-mü_, animate plural). Such features as accent, cadence, and the +treatment of consonants and vowels within the body of a word are often +useful as aids in the external demarcation of the word, but they must by +no means be interpreted, as is sometimes done, as themselves responsible +for its psychological existence. They at best but strengthen a feeling +of unity that is already present on other grounds. + +We have already seen that the major functional unit of speech, the +sentence, has, like the word, a psychological as well as a merely +logical or abstracted existence. Its definition is not difficult. It is +the linguistic expression of a proposition. It combines a subject of +discourse with a statement in regard to this subject. Subject and +"predicate" may be combined in a single word, as in Latin _dico_; each +may be expressed independently, as in the English equivalent, _I say_; +each or either may be so qualified as to lead to complex propositions of +many sorts. No matter how many of these qualifying elements (words or +functional parts of words) are introduced, the sentence does not lose +its feeling of unity so long as each and every one of them falls in +place as contributory to the definition of either the subject of +discourse or the core of the predicate[7]. Such a sentence as _The mayor +of New York is going to deliver a speech of welcome in French_ is +readily felt as a unified statement, incapable of reduction by the +transfer of certain of its elements, in their given form, to the +preceding or following sentences. The contributory ideas of _of New +York_, _of welcome_, and _in French_ may be eliminated without hurting +the idiomatic flow of the sentence. _The mayor is going to deliver a +speech_ is a perfectly intelligible proposition. But further than this +we cannot go in the process of reduction. We cannot say, for instance, +_Mayor is going to deliver_.[8] The reduced sentence resolves itself +into the subject of discourse--_the mayor_--and the predicate--_is going +to deliver a speech_. It is customary to say that the true subject of +such a sentence is _mayor_, the true predicate _is going_ or even _is_, +the other elements being strictly subordinate. Such an analysis, +however, is purely schematic and is without psychological value. It is +much better frankly to recognize the fact that either or both of the two +terms of the sentence-proposition may be incapable of expression in the +form of single words. There are languages that can convey all that is +conveyed by _The-mayor is-going-to-deliver-a-speech_ in two words, a +subject word and a predicate word, but English is not so highly +synthetic. The point that we are really making here is that underlying +the finished sentence is a living sentence type, of fixed formal +characteristics. These fixed types or actual sentence-groundworks may be +freely overlaid by such additional matter as the speaker or writer cares +to put on, but they are themselves as rigidly "given" by tradition as +are the radical and grammatical elements abstracted from the finished +word. New words may be consciously created from these fundamental +elements on the analogy of old ones, but hardly new types of words. In +the same way new sentences are being constantly created, but always on +strictly traditional lines. The enlarged sentence, however, allows as a +rule of considerable freedom in the handling of what may be called +"unessential" parts. It is this margin of freedom which gives us the +opportunity of individual style. + +[Footnote 7: "Coordinate sentences" like _I shall remain but you may go_ +may only doubtfully be considered as truly unified predications, as true +sentences. They are sentences in a stylistic sense rather than from the +strictly formal linguistic standpoint. The orthography _I shall remain. +But you may go_ is as intrinsically justified as _I shall remain. Now +you may go_. The closer connection in sentiment between the first two +propositions has led to a conventional visual representation that must +not deceive the analytic spirit.] + +[Footnote 8: Except, possibly, in a newspaper headline. Such headlines, +however, are language only in a derived sense.] + +The habitual association of radical elements, grammatical elements, +words, and sentences with concepts or groups of concepts related into +wholes is the fact itself of language. It is important to note that +there is in all languages a certain randomness of association. Thus, the +idea of "hide" may be also expressed by the word "conceal," the notion +of "three times" also by "thrice." The multiple expression of a single +concept is universally felt as a source of linguistic strength and +variety, not as a needless extravagance. More irksome is a random +correspondence between idea and linguistic expression in the field of +abstract and relational concepts, particularly when the concept is +embodied in a grammatical element. Thus, the randomness of the +expression of plurality in such words as _books_, _oxen_, _sheep_, and +_geese_ is felt to be rather more, I fancy, an unavoidable and +traditional predicament than a welcome luxuriance. It is obvious that a +language cannot go beyond a certain point in this randomness. Many +languages go incredibly far in this respect, it is true, but linguistic +history shows conclusively that sooner or later the less frequently +occurring associations are ironed out at the expense of the more vital +ones. In other words, all languages have an inherent tendency to economy +of expression. Were this tendency entirely inoperative, there would be +no grammar. The fact of grammar, a universal trait of language, is +simply a generalized expression of the feeling that analogous concepts +and relations are most conveniently symbolized in analogous forms. Were +a language ever completely "grammatical," it would be a perfect engine +of conceptual expression. Unfortunately, or luckily, no language is +tyrannically consistent. All grammars leak. + +Up to the present we have been assuming that the material of language +reflects merely the world of concepts and, on what I have ventured to +call the "pre-rational" plane, of images, which are the raw material of +concepts. We have, in other words, been assuming that language moves +entirely in the ideational or cognitive sphere. It is time that we +amplified the picture. The volitional aspect of consciousness also is to +some extent explicitly provided for in language. Nearly all languages +have special means for the expression of commands (in the imperative +forms of the verb, for example) and of desires, unattained or +unattainable (_Would he might come!_ or _Would he were here!_) The +emotions, on the whole, seem to be given a less adequate outlet. +Emotion, indeed, is proverbially inclined to speechlessness. Most, if +not all, the interjections are to be put to the credit of emotional +expression, also, it may be, a number of linguistic elements expressing +certain modalities, such as dubitative or potential forms, which may be +interpreted as reflecting the emotional states of hesitation or +doubt--attenuated fear. On the whole, it must be admitted that ideation +reigns supreme in language, that volition and emotion come in as +distinctly secondary factors. This, after all, is perfectly +intelligible. The world of image and concept, the endless and +ever-shifting picture of objective reality, is the unavoidable +subject-matter of human communication, for it is only, or mainly, in +terms of this world that effective action is possible. Desire, purpose, +emotion are the personal color of the objective world; they are applied +privately by the individual soul and are of relatively little importance +to the neighboring one. All this does not mean that volition and emotion +are not expressed. They are, strictly speaking, never absent from normal +speech, but their expression is not of a truly linguistic nature. The +nuances of emphasis, tone, and phrasing, the varying speed and +continuity of utterance, the accompanying bodily movements, all these +express something of the inner life of impulse and feeling, but as these +means of expression are, at last analysis, but modified forms of the +instinctive utterance that man shares with the lower animals, they +cannot be considered as forming part of the essential cultural +conception of language, however much they may be inseparable from its +actual life. And this instinctive expression of volition and emotion is, +for the most part, sufficient, often more than sufficient, for the +purposes of communication. + +There are, it is true, certain writers on the psychology of language[9] +who deny its prevailingly cognitive character but attempt, on the +contrary, to demonstrate the origin of most linguistic elements within +the domain of feeling. I confess that I am utterly unable to follow +them. What there is of truth in their contentions may be summed up, it +seems to me, by saying that most words, like practically all elements of +consciousness, have an associated feeling-tone, a mild, yet none the +less real and at times insidiously powerful, derivative of pleasure or +pain. This feeling-tone, however, is not as a rule an inherent value in +the word itself; it is rather a sentimental growth on the word's true +body, on its conceptual kernel. Not only may the feeling-tone change +from one age to another (this, of course, is true of the conceptual +content as well), but it varies remarkably from individual to individual +according to the personal associations of each, varies, indeed, from +time to time in a single individual's consciousness as his experiences +mold him and his moods change. To be sure, there are socially accepted +feeling-tones, or ranges of feeling-tone, for many words over and above +the force of individual association, but they are exceedingly variable +and elusive things at best. They rarely have the rigidity of the +central, primary fact. We all grant, for instance, that _storm_, +_tempest_, and _hurricane_, quite aside from their slight differences of +actual meaning, have distinct feeling-tones, tones that are felt by all +sensitive speakers and readers of English in a roughly equivalent +fashion. _Storm_, we feel, is a more general and a decidedly less +"magnificent" word than the other two; _tempest_ is not only associated +with the sea but is likely, in the minds of many, to have obtained a +softened glamour from a specific association with Shakespeare's great +play; _hurricane_ has a greater forthrightness, a directer ruthlessness +than its synonyms. Yet the individual's feeling-tones for these words +are likely to vary enormously. To some _tempest_ and _hurricane_ may +seem "soft," literary words, the simpler _storm_ having a fresh, rugged +value which the others do not possess (think of _storm and stress_). If +we have browsed much in our childhood days in books of the Spanish Main, +_hurricane_ is likely to have a pleasurably bracing tone; if we have had +the misfortune to be caught in one, we are not unlikely to feel the word +as cold, cheerless, sinister. + +[Footnote 9: E.g., the brilliant Dutch writer, Jac van Ginneken.] + +The feeling-tones of words are of no use, strictly speaking, to science; +the philosopher, if he desires to arrive at truth rather than merely to +persuade, finds them his most insidious enemies. But man is rarely +engaged in pure science, in solid thinking. Generally his mental +activities are bathed in a warm current of feeling and he seizes upon +the feeling-tones of words as gentle aids to the desired excitation. +They are naturally of great value to the literary artist. It is +interesting to note, however, that even to the artist they are a danger. +A word whose customary feeling-tone is too unquestioningly accepted +becomes a plushy bit of furniture, a _cliché_. Every now and then the +artist has to fight the feeling-tone, to get the word to mean what it +nakedly and conceptually should mean, depending for the effect of +feeling on the creative power of an individual juxtaposition of concepts +or images. + + + + +III + +THE SOUNDS OF LANGUAGE + + +We have seen that the mere phonetic framework of speech does not +constitute the inner fact of language and that the single sound of +articulated speech is not, as such, a linguistic element at all. For all +that, speech is so inevitably bound up with sounds and their +articulation that we can hardly avoid giving the subject of phonetics +some general consideration. Experience has shown that neither the purely +formal aspects of a language nor the course of its history can be fully +understood without reference to the sounds in which this form and this +history are embodied. A detailed survey of phonetics would be both too +technical for the general reader and too loosely related to our main +theme to warrant the needed space, but we can well afford to consider a +few outstanding facts and ideas connected with the sounds of language. + +The feeling that the average speaker has of his language is that it is +built up, acoustically speaking, of a comparatively small number of +distinct sounds, each of which is rather accurately provided for in the +current alphabet by one letter or, in a few cases, by two or more +alternative letters. As for the languages of foreigners, he generally +feels that, aside from a few striking differences that cannot escape +even the uncritical ear, the sounds they use are the same as those he is +familiar with but that there is a mysterious "accent" to these foreign +languages, a certain unanalyzed phonetic character, apart from the +sounds as such, that gives them their air of strangeness. This naïve +feeling is largely illusory on both scores. Phonetic analysis convinces +one that the number of clearly distinguishable sounds and nuances of +sounds that are habitually employed by the speakers of a language is far +greater than they themselves recognize. Probably not one English speaker +out of a hundred has the remotest idea that the _t_ of a word like +_sting_ is not at all the same sound as the _t_ of _teem_, the latter +_t_ having a fullness of "breath release" that is inhibited in the +former case by the preceding _s_; that the _ea_ of _meat_ is of +perceptibly shorter duration than the _ea_ of _mead_; or that the final +_s_ of a word like _heads_ is not the full, buzzing _z_ sound of the _s_ +in such a word as _please_. It is the frequent failure of foreigners, +who have acquired a practical mastery of English and who have eliminated +all the cruder phonetic shortcomings of their less careful brethren, to +observe such minor distinctions that helps to give their English +pronunciation the curiously elusive "accent" that we all vaguely feel. +We do not diagnose the "accent" as the total acoustic effect produced by +a series of slight but specific phonetic errors for the very good reason +that we have never made clear to ourselves our own phonetic stock in +trade. If two languages taken at random, say English and Russian, are +compared as to their phonetic systems, we are more apt than not to find +that very few of the phonetic elements of the one find an exact analogue +in the other. Thus, the _t_ of a Russian word like _tam_ "there" is +neither the English _t_ of _sting_ nor the English _t_ of _teem_. It +differs from both in its "dental" articulation, in other words, in being +produced by contact of the tip of the tongue with the upper teeth, not, +as in English, by contact of the tongue back of the tip with the gum +ridge above the teeth; moreover, it differs from the _t_ of _teem_ also +in the absence of a marked "breath release" before the following vowel +is attached, so that its acoustic effect is of a more precise, +"metallic" nature than in English. Again, the English _l_ is unknown in +Russian, which possesses, on the other hand, two distinct _l_-sounds +that the normal English speaker would find it difficult exactly to +reproduce--a "hollow," guttural-like _l_ and a "soft," palatalized +_l_-sound that is only very approximately rendered, in English terms, as +_ly_. Even so simple and, one would imagine, so invariable a sound as +_m_ differs in the two languages. In a Russian word like _most_ "bridge" +the _m_ is not the same as the _m_ of the English word _most_; the lips +are more fully rounded during its articulation, so that it makes a +heavier, more resonant impression on the ear. The vowels, needless to +say, differ completely in English and Russian, hardly any two of them +being quite the same. + +I have gone into these illustrative details, which are of little or no +specific interest for us, merely in order to provide something of an +experimental basis to convince ourselves of the tremendous variability +of speech sounds. Yet a complete inventory of the acoustic resources of +all the European languages, the languages nearer home, while +unexpectedly large, would still fall far short of conveying a just idea +of the true range of human articulation. In many of the languages of +Asia, Africa, and aboriginal America there are whole classes of sounds +that most of us have no knowledge of. They are not necessarily more +difficult of enunciation than sounds more familiar to our ears; they +merely involve such muscular adjustments of the organs of speech as we +have never habituated ourselves to. It may be safely said that the total +number of possible sounds is greatly in excess of those actually in +use. Indeed, an experienced phonetician should have no difficulty in +inventing sounds that are unknown to objective investigation. One reason +why we find it difficult to believe that the range of possible speech +sounds is indefinitely large is our habit of conceiving the sound as a +simple, unanalyzable impression instead of as the resultant of a number +of distinct muscular adjustments that take place simultaneously. A +slight change in any one of these adjustments gives us a new sound which +is akin to the old one, because of the continuance of the other +adjustments, but which is acoustically distinct from it, so sensitive +has the human ear become to the nuanced play of the vocal mechanism. +Another reason for our lack of phonetic imagination is the fact that, +while our ear is delicately responsive to the sounds of speech, the +muscles of our speech organs have early in life become exclusively +accustomed to the particular adjustments and systems of adjustment that +are required to produce the traditional sounds of the language. All or +nearly all other adjustments have become permanently inhibited, whether +through inexperience or through gradual elimination. Of course the power +to produce these inhibited adjustments is not entirely lost, but the +extreme difficulty we experience in learning the new sounds of foreign +languages is sufficient evidence of the strange rigidity that has set in +for most people in the voluntary control of the speech organs. The point +may be brought home by contrasting the comparative lack of freedom of +voluntary speech movements with the all but perfect freedom of voluntary +gesture.[10] Our rigidity in articulation is the price we have had to +pay for easy mastery of a highly necessary symbolism. One cannot be both +splendidly free in the random choice of movements and selective with +deadly certainty.[11] + +[Footnote 10: Observe the "voluntary." When we shout or grunt or +otherwise allow our voices to take care of themselves, as we are likely +to do when alone in the country on a fine spring day, we are no longer +fixing vocal adjustments by voluntary control. Under these circumstances +we are almost certain to hit on speech sounds that we could never learn +to control in actual speech.] + +[Footnote 11: If speech, in its acoustic and articulatory aspect, is +indeed a rigid system, how comes it, one may plausibly object, that no +two people speak alike? The answer is simple. All that part of speech +which falls out of the rigid articulatory framework is not speech in +idea, but is merely a superadded, more or less instinctively determined +vocal complication inseparable from speech in practice. All the +individual color of speech--personal emphasis, speed, personal cadence, +personal pitch--is a non-linguistic fact, just as the incidental +expression of desire and emotion are, for the most part, alien to +linguistic expression. Speech, like all elements of culture, demands +conceptual selection, inhibition of the randomness of instinctive +behavior. That its "idea" is never realized as such in practice, its +carriers being instinctively animated organisms, is of course true of +each and every aspect of culture.] + +There are, then, an indefinitely large number of articulated sounds +available for the mechanics of speech; any given language makes use of +an explicit, rigidly economical selection of these rich resources; and +each of the many possible sounds of speech is conditioned by a number of +independent muscular adjustments that work together simultaneously +towards its production. A full account of the activity of each of the +organs of speech--in so far as its activity has a bearing on +language--is impossible here, nor can we concern ourselves in a +systematic way with the classification of sounds on the basis of their +mechanics.[12] A few bold outlines are all that we can attempt. The +organs of speech are the lungs and bronchial tubes; the throat, +particularly that part of it which is known as the larynx or, in popular +parlance, the "Adam's apple"; the nose; the uvula, which is the soft, +pointed, and easily movable organ that depends from the rear of the +palate; the palate, which is divided into a posterior, movable "soft +palate" or velum and a "hard palate"; the tongue; the teeth; and the +lips. The palate, lower palate, tongue, teeth, and lips may be looked +upon as a combined resonance chamber, whose constantly varying shape, +chiefly due to the extreme mobility of the tongue, is the main factor in +giving the outgoing breath its precise quality[13] of sound. + +[Footnote 12: Purely acoustic classifications, such as more easily +suggest themselves to a first attempt at analysis, are now in less favor +among students of phonetics than organic classifications. The latter +have the advantage of being more objective. Moreover, the acoustic +quality of a sound is dependent on the articulation, even though in +linguistic consciousness this quality is the primary, not the secondary, +fact.] + +[Footnote 13: By "quality" is here meant the inherent nature and +resonance of the sound as such. The general "quality" of the +individual's voice is another matter altogether. This is chiefly +determined by the individual anatomical characteristics of the larynx +and is of no linguistic interest whatever.] + +The lungs and bronchial tubes are organs of speech only in so far as +they supply and conduct the current of outgoing air without which +audible articulation is impossible. They are not responsible for any +specific sound or acoustic feature of sounds except, possibly, accent or +stress. It may be that differences of stress are due to slight +differences in the contracting force of the lung muscles, but even this +influence of the lungs is denied by some students, who explain the +fluctuations of stress that do so much to color speech by reference to +the more delicate activity of the glottal cords. These glottal cords are +two small, nearly horizontal, and highly sensitive membranes within the +larynx, which consists, for the most part, of two large and several +smaller cartilages and of a number of small muscles that control the +action of the cords. + +The cords, which are attached to the cartilages, are to the human speech +organs what the two vibrating reeds are to a clarinet or the strings to +a violin. They are capable of at least three distinct types of movement, +each of which is of the greatest importance for speech. They may be +drawn towards or away from each other, they may vibrate like reeds or +strings, and they may become lax or tense in the direction of their +length. The last class of these movements allows the cords to vibrate at +different "lengths" or degrees of tenseness and is responsible for the +variations in pitch which are present not only in song but in the more +elusive modulations of ordinary speech. The two other types of glottal +action determine the nature of the voice, "voice" being a convenient +term for breath as utilized in speech. If the cords are well apart, +allowing the breath to escape in unmodified form, we have the condition +technically known as "voicelessness." All sounds produced under these +circumstances are "voiceless" sounds. Such are the simple, unmodified +breath as it passes into the mouth, which is, at least approximately, +the same as the sound that we write _h_, also a large number of special +articulations in the mouth chamber, like _p_ and _s_. On the other hand, +the glottal cords may be brought tight together, without vibrating. When +this happens, the current of breath is checked for the time being. The +slight choke or "arrested cough" that is thus made audible is not +recognized in English as a definite sound but occurs nevertheless not +infrequently.[14] This momentary check, technically known as a "glottal +stop," is an integral element of speech in many languages, as Danish, +Lettish, certain Chinese dialects, and nearly all American Indian +languages. Between the two extremes of voicelessness, that of +completely open breath and that of checked breath, lies the position of +true voice. In this position the cords are close together, but not so +tightly as to prevent the air from streaming through; the cords are set +vibrating and a musical tone of varying pitch results. A tone so +produced is known as a "voiced sound." It may have an indefinite number +of qualities according to the precise position of the upper organs of +speech. Our vowels, nasals (such as _m_ and _n_), and such sounds as +_b_, _z_, and _l_ are all voiced sounds. The most convenient test of a +voiced sound is the possibility of pronouncing it on any given pitch, in +other words, of singing on it.[15] The voiced sounds are the most +clearly audible elements of speech. As such they are the carriers of +practically all significant differences in stress, pitch, and +syllabification. The voiceless sounds are articulated noises that break +up the stream of voice with fleeting moments of silence. Acoustically +intermediate between the freely unvoiced and the voiced sounds are a +number of other characteristic types of voicing, such as murmuring and +whisper.[16] These and still other types of voice are relatively +unimportant in English and most other European languages, but there are +languages in which they rise to some prominence in the normal flow of +speech. + +[Footnote 14: As at the end of the snappily pronounced _no!_ (sometimes +written _nope!_) or in the over-carefully pronounced _at all_, where one +may hear a slight check between the _t_ and the _a_.] + +[Footnote 15: "Singing" is here used in a wide sense. One cannot sing +continuously on such a sound as _b_ or _d_, but one may easily outline a +tune on a series of _b_'s or _d_'s in the manner of the plucked +"pizzicato" on stringed instruments. A series of tones executed on +continuant consonants, like _m_, _z_, or _l_, gives the effect of +humming, droning, or buzzing. The sound of "humming," indeed, is nothing +but a continuous voiced nasal, held on one pitch or varying in pitch, as +desired.] + +[Footnote 16: The whisper of ordinary speech is a combination of +unvoiced sounds and "whispered" sounds, as the term is understood in +phonetics.] + +The nose is not an active organ of speech, but it is highly important as +a resonance chamber. It may be disconnected from the mouth, which is +the other great resonance chamber, by the lifting of the movable part of +the soft palate so as to shut off the passage of the breath into the +nasal cavity; or, if the soft palate is allowed to hang down freely and +unobstructively, so that the breath passes into both the nose and the +mouth, these make a combined resonance chamber. Such sounds as _b_ and +_a_ (as in _father_) are voiced "oral" sounds, that is, the voiced +breath does not receive a nasal resonance. As soon as the soft palate is +lowered, however, and the nose added as a participating resonance +chamber, the sounds _b_ and _a_ take on a peculiar "nasal" quality and +become, respectively, _m_ and the nasalized vowel written _an_ in French +(e.g., _sang_, _tant_). The only English sounds[17] that normally +receive a nasal resonance are _m_, _n_, and the _ng_ sound of _sing_. +Practically all sounds, however, may be nasalized, not only the +vowels--nasalized vowels are common in all parts of the world--but such +sounds as _l_ or _z_. Voiceless nasals are perfectly possible. They +occur, for instance, in Welsh and in quite a number of American Indian +languages. + +[Footnote 17: Aside from the involuntary nasalizing of all voiced sounds +in the speech of those that talk with a "nasal twang."] + +The organs that make up the oral resonance chamber may articulate in two +ways. The breath, voiced or unvoiced, nasalized or unnasalized, may be +allowed to pass through the mouth without being checked or impeded at +any point; or it may be either momentarily checked or allowed to stream +through a greatly narrowed passage with resulting air friction. There +are also transitions between the two latter types of articulation. The +unimpeded breath takes on a particular color or quality in accordance +with the varying shape of the oral resonance chamber. This shape is +chiefly determined by the position of the movable parts--the tongue and +the lips. As the tongue is raised or lowered, retracted or brought +forward, held tense or lax, and as the lips are pursed ("rounded") in +varying degree or allowed to keep their position of rest, a large number +of distinct qualities result. These oral qualities are the vowels. In +theory their number is infinite, in practice the ear can differentiate +only a limited, yet a surprisingly large, number of resonance positions. +Vowels, whether nasalized or not, are normally voiced sounds; in not a +few languages, however, "voiceless vowels"[18] also occur. + +[Footnote 18: These may be also defined as free unvoiced breath with +varying vocalic timbres. In the long Paiute word quoted on page 31 the +first _u_ and the final _ü_ are pronounced without voice.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 18 refers to line 1014.] + +The remaining oral sounds are generally grouped together as +"consonants." In them the stream of breath is interfered with in some +way, so that a lesser resonance results, and a sharper, more incisive +quality of tone. There are four main types of articulation generally +recognized within the consonantal group of sounds. The breath may be +completely stopped for a moment at some definite point in the oral +cavity. Sounds so produced, like _t_ or _d_ or _p_, are known as "stops" +or "explosives."[19] Or the breath may be continuously obstructed +through a narrow passage, not entirely checked. Examples of such +"spirants" or "fricatives," as they are called, are _s_ and _z_ and _y_. +The third class of consonants, the "laterals," are semi-stopped. There +is a true stoppage at the central point of articulation, but the breath +is allowed to escape through the two side passages or through one of +them. Our English _d_, for instance, may be readily transformed into +_l_, which has the voicing and the position of _d_, merely by +depressing the sides of the tongue on either side of the point of +contact sufficiently to allow the breath to come through. Laterals are +possible in many distinct positions. They may be unvoiced (the Welsh +_ll_ is an example) as well as voiced. Finally, the stoppage of the +breath may be rapidly intermittent; in other words, the active organ of +contact--generally the point of the tongue, less often the +uvula[20]--may be made to vibrate against or near the point of contact. +These sounds are the "trills" or "rolled consonants," of which the +normal English _r_ is a none too typical example. They are well +developed in many languages, however, generally in voiced form, +sometimes, as in Welsh and Paiute, in unvoiced form as well. + +[Footnote 19: Nasalized stops, say _m_ or _n_, can naturally not be +truly "stopped," as there is no way of checking the stream of breath in +the nose by a definite articulation.] + +[Footnote 20: The lips also may theoretically so articulate. "Labial +trills," however, are certainly rare in natural speech.] + +The oral manner of articulation is naturally not sufficient to define a +consonant. The place of articulation must also be considered. Contacts +may be formed at a large number of points, from the root of the tongue +to the lips. It is not necessary here to go at length into this somewhat +complicated matter. The contact is either between the root of the tongue +and the throat,[21] some part of the tongue and a point on the palate +(as in _k_ or _ch_ or _l_), some part of the tongue and the teeth (as in +the English _th_ of _thick_ and _then_), the teeth and one of the lips +(practically always the upper teeth and lower lip, as in _f_), or the +two lips (as in _p_ or English _w_). The tongue articulations are the +most complicated of all, as the mobility of the tongue allows various +points on its surface, say the tip, to articulate against a number of +opposed points of contact. Hence arise many positions of articulation +that we are not familiar with, such as the typical "dental" position of +Russian or Italian _t_ and _d_; or the "cerebral" position of Sanskrit +and other languages of India, in which the tip of the tongue articulates +against the hard palate. As there is no break at any point between the +rims of the teeth back to the uvula nor from the tip of the tongue back +to its root, it is evident that all the articulations that involve the +tongue form a continuous organic (and acoustic) series. The positions +grade into each other, but each language selects a limited number of +clearly defined positions as characteristic of its consonantal system, +ignoring transitional or extreme positions. Frequently a language allows +a certain latitude in the fixing of the required position. This is true, +for instance, of the English _k_ sound, which is articulated much +further to the front in a word like _kin_ than in _cool_. We ignore this +difference, psychologically, as a non-essential, mechanical one. Another +language might well recognize the difference, or only a slightly greater +one, as significant, as paralleling the distinction in position between +the _k_ of _kin_ and the _t_ of _tin_. + +[Footnote 21: This position, known as "faucal," is not common.] + +The organic classification of speech sounds is a simple matter after +what we have learned of their production. Any such sound may be put into +its proper place by the appropriate answer to four main questions:--What +is the position of the glottal cords during its articulation? Does the +breath pass into the mouth alone or is it also allowed to stream into +the nose? Does the breath pass freely through the mouth or is it impeded +at some point and, if so, in what manner? What are the precise points of +articulation in the mouth?[22] This fourfold classification of sounds, +worked out in all its detailed ramifications,[23] is sufficient to +account for all, or practically all, the sounds of language.[24] + +[Footnote 22: "Points of articulation" must be understood to include +tongue and lip positions of the vowels.] + +[Footnote 23: Including, under the fourth category, a number of special +resonance adjustments that we have not been able to take up +specifically.] + +[Footnote 24: In so far, it should be added, as these sounds are +expiratory, i.e., pronounced with the outgoing breath. Certain +languages, like the South African Hottentot and Bushman, have also a +number of inspiratory sounds, pronounced by sucking in the breath at +various points of oral contact. These are the so-called "clicks."] + +The phonetic habits of a given language are not exhaustively defined by +stating that it makes use of such and such particular sounds out of the +all but endless gamut that we have briefly surveyed. There remains the +important question of the dynamics of these phonetic elements. Two +languages may, theoretically, be built up of precisely the same series +of consonants and vowels and yet produce utterly different acoustic +effects. One of them may not recognize striking variations in the +lengths or "quantities" of the phonetic elements, the other may note +such variations most punctiliously (in probably the majority of +languages long and short vowels are distinguished; in many, as in +Italian or Swedish or Ojibwa, long consonants are recognized as distinct +from short ones). Or the one, say English, may be very sensitive to +relative stresses, while in the other, say French, stress is a very +minor consideration. Or, again, the pitch differences which are +inseparable from the actual practice of language may not affect the word +as such, but, as in English, may be a more or less random or, at best, +but a rhetorical phenomenon, while in other languages, as in Swedish, +Lithuanian, Chinese, Siamese, and the majority of African languages, +they may be more finely graduated and felt as integral characteristics +of the words themselves. Varying methods of syllabifying are also +responsible for noteworthy acoustic differences. Most important of all, +perhaps, are the very different possibilities of combining the phonetic +elements. Each language has its peculiarities. The _ts_ combination, for +instance, is found in both English and German, but in English it can +only occur at the end of a word (as in _hats_), while it occurs freely +in German as the psychological equivalent of a single sound (as in +_Zeit_, _Katze_). Some languages allow of great heapings of consonants +or of vocalic groups (diphthongs), in others no two consonants or no two +vowels may ever come together. Frequently a sound occurs only in a +special position or under special phonetic circumstances. In English, +for instance, the _z_-sound of _azure_ cannot occur initially, while the +peculiar quality of the _t_ of _sting_ is dependent on its being +preceded by the _s_. These dynamic factors, in their totality, are as +important for the proper understanding of the phonetic genius of a +language as the sound system itself, often far more so. + +We have already seen, in an incidental way, that phonetic elements or +such dynamic features as quantity and stress have varying psychological +"values." The English _ts_ of _fiats_ is merely a _t_ followed by a +functionally independent _s_, the _ts_ of the German word _Zeit_ has an +integral value equivalent, say, to the _t_ of the English word _tide_. +Again, the _t_ of _time_ is indeed noticeably distinct from that of +_sting_, but the difference, to the consciousness of an English-speaking +person, is quite irrelevant. It has no "value." If we compare the +_t_-sounds of Haida, the Indian language spoken in the Queen Charlotte +Islands, we find that precisely the same difference of articulation has +a real value. In such a word as _sting_ "two," the _t_ is pronounced +precisely as in English, but in _sta_ "from" the _t_ is clearly +"aspirated," like that of _time_. In other words, an objective +difference that is irrelevant in English is of functional value in +Haida; from its own psychological standpoint the _t_ of _sting_ is as +different from that of _sta_ as, from our standpoint, is the _t_ of +_time_ from the _d_ of _divine_. Further investigation would yield the +interesting result that the Haida ear finds the difference between the +English _t_ of _sting_ and the _d_ of _divine_ as irrelevant as the +naïve English ear finds that of the _t_-sounds of _sting_ and _time_. +The objective comparison of sounds in two or more languages is, then, of +no psychological or historical significance unless these sounds are +first "weighted," unless their phonetic "values" are determined. These +values, in turn, flow from the general behavior and functioning of the +sounds in actual speech. + +These considerations as to phonetic value lead to an important +conception. Back of the purely objective system of sounds that is +peculiar to a language and which can be arrived at only by a painstaking +phonetic analysis, there is a more restricted "inner" or "ideal" system +which, while perhaps equally unconscious as a system to the naïve +speaker, can far more readily than the other be brought to his +consciousness as a finished pattern, a psychological mechanism. The +inner sound-system, overlaid though it may be by the mechanical or the +irrelevant, is a real and an immensely important principle in the life +of a language. It may persist as a pattern, involving number, relation, +and functioning of phonetic elements, long after its phonetic content is +changed. Two historically related languages or dialects may not have a +sound in common, but their ideal sound-systems may be identical +patterns. I would not for a moment wish to imply that this pattern may +not change. It may shrink or expand or change its functional +complexion, but its rate of change is infinitely less rapid than that of +the sounds as such. Every language, then, is characterized as much by +its ideal system of sounds and by the underlying phonetic pattern +(system, one might term it, of symbolic atoms) as by a definite +grammatical structure. Both the phonetic and conceptual structures show +the instinctive feeling of language for form.[25] + +[Footnote 25: The conception of the ideal phonetic system, the phonetic +pattern, of a language is not as well understood by linguistic students +as it should be. In this respect the unschooled recorder of language, +provided he has a good ear and a genuine instinct for language, is often +at a great advantage as compared with the minute phonetician, who is apt +to be swamped by his mass of observations. I have already employed my +experience in teaching Indians to write their own language for its +testing value in another connection. It yields equally valuable evidence +here. I found that it was difficult or impossible to teach an Indian to +make phonetic distinctions that did not correspond to "points in the +pattern of his language," however these differences might strike our +objective ear, but that subtle, barely audible, phonetic differences, if +only they hit the "points in the pattern," were easily and voluntarily +expressed in writing. In watching my Nootka interpreter write his +language, I often had the curious feeling that he was transcribing an +ideal flow of phonetic elements which he heard, inadequately from a +purely objective standpoint, as the intention of the actual rumble of +speech.] + + + + +IV + +FORM IN LANGUAGE: GRAMMATICAL PROCESSES + + +The question of form in language presents itself under two aspects. We +may either consider the formal methods employed by a language, its +"grammatical processes," or we may ascertain the distribution of +concepts with reference to formal expression. What are the formal +patterns of the language? And what types of concepts make up the content +of these formal patterns? The two points of view are quite distinct. The +English word _unthinkingly_ is, broadly speaking, formally parallel to +the word _reformers_, each being built up on a radical element which may +occur as an independent verb (_think_, _form_), this radical element +being preceded by an element (_un-_, _re-_) that conveys a definite and +fairly concrete significance but that cannot be used independently, and +followed by two elements (_-ing_, _-ly_; _-er_, _-s_) that limit the +application of the radical concept in a relational sense. This formal +pattern--(b) + A + (c) + (d)[26]--is a characteristic feature of the +language. A countless number of functions may be expressed by it; in +other words, all the possible ideas conveyed by such prefixed and +suffixed elements, while tending to fall into minor groups, do not +necessarily form natural, functional systems. There is no logical +reason, for instance, why the numeral function of _-s_ should be +formally expressed in a manner that is analogous to the expression of +the idea conveyed by _-ly_. It is perfectly conceivable that in another +language the concept of manner (_-ly_) may be treated according to an +entirely different pattern from that of plurality. The former might have +to be expressed by an independent word (say, _thus unthinking_), the +latter by a prefixed element (say, _plural[27]-reform-er_). There are, +of course, an unlimited number of other possibilities. Even within the +confines of English alone the relative independence of form and function +can be made obvious. Thus, the negative idea conveyed by _un-_ can be +just as adequately expressed by a suffixed element (_-less_) in such a +word as _thoughtlessly_. Such a twofold formal expression of the +negative function would be inconceivable in certain languages, say +Eskimo, where a suffixed element would alone be possible. Again, the +plural notion conveyed by the _-s_ of _reformers_ is just as definitely +expressed in the word _geese_, where an utterly distinct method +is employed. Furthermore, the principle of vocalic change +(_goose_--_geese_) is by no means confined to the expression of the idea +of plurality; it may also function as an indicator of difference of time +(e.g., _sing_--_sang_, _throw_--_threw_). But the expression in English +of past time is not by any means always bound up with a change of vowel. +In the great majority of cases the same idea is expressed by means of a +distinct suffix (_die-d_, _work-ed_). Functionally, _died_ and _sang_ +are analogous; so are _reformers_ and _geese_. Formally, we must arrange +these words quite otherwise. Both _die-d_ and _re-form-er-s_ employ the +method of suffixing grammatical elements; both _sang_ and _geese_ have +grammatical form by virtue of the fact that their vowels differ from the +vowels of other words with which they are closely related in form and +meaning (_goose_; _sing_, _sung_). + +[Footnote 26: For the symbolism, see chapter II.] + +[Footnote 27: "_Plural_" is here a symbol for any prefix indicating +plurality.] + +Every language possesses one or more formal methods or indicating the +relation of a secondary concept to the main concept of the radical +element. Some of these grammatical processes, like suffixing, are +exceedingly wide-spread; others, like vocalic change, are less common +but far from rare; still others, like accent and consonantal change, are +somewhat exceptional as functional processes. Not all languages are as +irregular as English in the assignment of functions to its stock of +grammatical processes. As a rule, such basic concepts as those of +plurality and time are rendered by means of one or other method alone, +but the rule has so many exceptions that we cannot safely lay it down as +a principle. Wherever we go we are impressed by the fact that pattern is +one thing, the utilization of pattern quite another. A few further +examples of the multiple expression of identical functions in other +languages than English may help to make still more vivid this idea of +the relative independence of form and function. + +In Hebrew, as in other Semitic languages, the verbal idea as such is +expressed by three, less often by two or four, characteristic +consonants. Thus, the group _sh-m-r_ expresses the idea of "guarding," +the group _g-n-b_ that of "stealing," _n-t-n_ that of "giving." +Naturally these consonantal sequences are merely abstracted from the +actual forms. The consonants are held together in different forms by +characteristic vowels that vary according to the idea that it is desired +to express. Prefixed and suffixed elements are also frequently used. The +method of internal vocalic change is exemplified in _shamar_ "he has +guarded," _shomer_ "guarding," _shamur_ "being guarded," _shmor_ "(to) +guard." Analogously, _ganab_ "he has stolen," _goneb_ "stealing," +_ganub_ "being stolen," _gnob_ "(to) steal." But not all infinitives are +formed according to the type of _shmor_ and _gnob_ or of other types of +internal vowel change. Certain verbs suffix a _t_-element for the +infinitive, e.g., _ten-eth_ "to give," _heyo-th_ "to be." Again, the +pronominal ideas may be expressed by independent words (e.g., _anoki_ +"I"), by prefixed elements (e.g., _e-shmor_ "I shall guard"), or by +suffixed elements (e.g., _shamar-ti_ "I have guarded"). In Nass, an +Indian language of British Columbia, plurals are formed by four distinct +methods. Most nouns (and verbs) are reduplicated in the plural, that is, +part of the radical element is repeated, e.g., _gyat_ "person," +_gyigyat_ "people." A second method is the use of certain characteristic +prefixes, e.g., _an'on_ "hand," _ka-an'on_ "hands"; _wai_ "one paddles," +_lu-wai_ "several paddle." Still other plurals are formed by means of +internal vowel change, e.g., _gwula_ "cloak," _gwila_ "cloaks." Finally, +a fourth class of plurals is constituted by such nouns as suffix a +grammatical element, e.g., _waky_ "brother," _wakykw_ "brothers." + +From such groups of examples as these--and they might be multiplied _ad +nauseam_--we cannot but conclude that linguistic form may and should be +studied as types of patterning, apart from the associated functions. We +are the more justified in this procedure as all languages evince a +curious instinct for the development of one or more particular +grammatical processes at the expense of others, tending always to lose +sight of any explicit functional value that the process may have had in +the first instance, delighting, it would seem, in the sheer play of its +means of expression. It does not matter that in such a case as the +English _goose_--_geese_, _foul_--_defile_, _sing_--_sang_--_sung_ we +can prove that we are dealing with historically distinct processes, +that the vocalic alternation of _sing_ and _sang_, for instance, is +centuries older as a specific type of grammatical process than the +outwardly parallel one of _goose_ and _geese_. It remains true that +there is (or was) an inherent tendency in English, at the time such +forms as _geese_ came into being, for the utilization of vocalic change +as a significant linguistic method. Failing the precedent set by such +already existing types of vocalic alternation as _sing_--_sang_--_sung_, +it is highly doubtful if the detailed conditions that brought about the +evolution of forms like _teeth_ and _geese_ from _tooth_ and _goose_ +would have been potent enough to allow the native linguistic feeling to +win through to an acceptance of these new types of plural formation as +psychologically possible. This feeling for form as such, freely +expanding along predetermined lines and greatly inhibited in certain +directions by the lack of controlling types of patterning, should be +more clearly understood than it seems to be. A general survey of many +diverse types of languages is needed to give us the proper perspective +on this point. We saw in the preceding chapter that every language has +an inner phonetic system of definite pattern. We now learn that it has +also a definite feeling for patterning on the level of grammatical +formation. Both of these submerged and powerfully controlling impulses +to definite form operate as such, regardless of the need for expressing +particular concepts or of giving consistent external shape to particular +groups of concepts. It goes without saying that these impulses can find +realization only in concrete functional expression. We must say +something to be able to say it in a certain manner. + +Let us now take up a little more systematically, however briefly, the +various grammatical processes that linguistic research has established. +They may be grouped into six main types: word order; composition; +affixation, including the use of prefixes, suffixes, and infixes; +internal modification of the radical or grammatical element, whether +this affects a vowel or a consonant; reduplication; and accentual +differences, whether dynamic (stress) or tonal (pitch). There are also +special quantitative processes, like vocalic lengthening or shortening +and consonantal doubling, but these may be looked upon as particular +sub-types of the process of internal modification. Possibly still other +formal types exist, but they are not likely to be of importance in a +general survey. It is important to bear in mind that a linguistic +phenomenon cannot be looked upon as illustrating a definite "process" +unless it has an inherent functional value. The consonantal change in +English, for instance, of _book-s_ and _bag-s_ (_s_ in the former, _z_ +in the latter) is of no functional significance. It is a purely +external, mechanical change induced by the presence of a preceding +voiceless consonant, _k_, in the former case, of a voiced consonant, +_g_, in the latter. This mechanical alternation is objectively the same +as that between the noun _house_ and the verb _to house_. In the latter +case, however, it has an important grammatical function, that of +transforming a noun into a verb. The two alternations belong, then, to +entirely different psychological categories. Only the latter is a true +illustration of consonantal modification as a grammatical process. + +The simplest, at least the most economical, method of conveying some +sort of grammatical notion is to juxtapose two or more words in a +definite sequence without making any attempt by inherent modification of +these words to establish a connection between them. Let us put down two +simple English words at random, say _sing praise_. This conveys no +finished thought in English, nor does it clearly establish a relation +between the idea of singing and that of praising. Nevertheless, it is +psychologically impossible to hear or see the two words juxtaposed +without straining to give them some measure of coherent significance. +The attempt is not likely to yield an entirely satisfactory result, but +what is significant is that as soon as two or more radical concepts are +put before the human mind in immediate sequence it strives to bind them +together with connecting values of some sort. In the case of _sing +praise_ different individuals are likely to arrive at different +provisional results. Some of the latent possibilities of the +juxtaposition, expressed in currently satisfying form, are: _sing praise +(to him)!_ or _singing praise, praise expressed in a song_ or _to sing +and praise_ or _one who sings a song of praise_ (compare such English +compounds as _killjoy_, i.e., _one who kills joy_) or _he sings a song +of praise (to him)_. The theoretical possibilities in the way of +rounding out these two concepts into a significant group of concepts or +even into a finished thought are indefinitely numerous. None of them +will quite work in English, but there are numerous languages where one +or other of these amplifying processes is habitual. It depends entirely +on the genius of the particular language what function is inherently +involved in a given sequence of words. + +Some languages, like Latin, express practically all relations by means +of modifications within the body of the word itself. In these, sequence +is apt to be a rhetorical rather than a strictly grammatical principle. +Whether I say in Latin _hominem femina videt_ or _femina hominem videt_ +or _hominem videt femina_ or _videt femina hominem_ makes little or no +difference beyond, possibly, a rhetorical or stylistic one. _The woman +sees the man_ is the identical significance of each of these sentences. +In Chinook, an Indian language of the Columbia River, one can be equally +free, for the relation between the verb and the two nouns is as +inherently fixed as in Latin. The difference between the two languages +is that, while Latin allows the nouns to establish their relation to +each other and to the verb, Chinook lays the formal burden entirely on +the verb, the full content of which is more or less adequately rendered +by _she-him-sees_. Eliminate the Latin case suffixes (_-a_ and _-em_) +and the Chinook pronominal prefixes (_she-him-_) and we cannot afford to +be so indifferent to our word order. We need to husband our resources. +In other words, word order takes on a real functional value. Latin and +Chinook are at one extreme. Such languages as Chinese, Siamese, and +Annamite, in which each and every word, if it is to function properly, +falls into its assigned place, are at the other extreme. But the +majority of languages fall between these two extremes. In English, for +instance, it may make little grammatical difference whether I say +_yesterday the man saw the dog_ or _the man saw the dog yesterday_, but +it is not a matter of indifference whether I say _yesterday the man saw +the dog_ or _yesterday the dog saw the man_ or whether I say _he is +here_ or _is he here?_ In the one case, of the latter group of examples, +the vital distinction of subject and object depends entirely on the +placing of certain words of the sentence, in the latter a slight +difference of sequence makes all the difference between statement and +question. It goes without saying that in these cases the English +principle of word order is as potent a means of expression as is the +Latin use of case suffixes or of an interrogative particle. There is +here no question of functional poverty, but of formal economy. + +We have already seen something of the process of composition, the +uniting into a single word of two or more radical elements. +Psychologically this process is closely allied to that of word order in +so far as the relation between the elements is implied, not explicitly +stated. It differs from the mere juxtaposition of words in the sentence +in that the compounded elements are felt as constituting but parts of a +single word-organism. Such languages as Chinese and English, in which +the principle of rigid sequence is well developed, tend not infrequently +also to the development of compound words. It is but a step from such a +Chinese word sequence as _jin tak_ "man virtue," i.e., "the virtue of +men," to such more conventionalized and psychologically unified +juxtapositions as _t'ien tsz_ "heaven son," i.e., "emperor," or _shui +fu_ "water man," i.e., "water carrier." In the latter case we may as +well frankly write _shui-fu_ as a single word, the meaning of the +compound as a whole being as divergent from the precise etymological +values of its component elements as is that of our English word +_typewriter_ from the merely combined values of _type_ and _writer_. In +English the unity of the word _typewriter_ is further safeguarded by a +predominant accent on the first syllable and by the possibility of +adding such a suffixed element as the plural _-s_ to the whole word. +Chinese also unifies its compounds by means of stress. However, then, in +its ultimate origins the process of composition may go back to typical +sequences of words in the sentence, it is now, for the most part, a +specialized method of expressing relations. French has as rigid a word +order as English but does not possess anything like its power of +compounding words into more complex units. On the other hand, classical +Greek, in spite of its relative freedom in the placing of words, has a +very considerable bent for the formation of compound terms. + +It is curious to observe how greatly languages differ in their ability +to make use of the process of composition. One would have thought on +general principles that so simple a device as gives us our _typewriter_ +and _blackbird_ and hosts of other words would be an all but universal +grammatical process. Such is not the case. There are a great many +languages, like Eskimo and Nootka and, aside from paltry exceptions, the +Semitic languages, that cannot compound radical elements. What is even +stranger is the fact that many of these languages are not in the least +averse to complex word-formations, but may on the contrary effect a +synthesis that far surpasses the utmost that Greek and Sanskrit are +capable of. Such a Nootka word, for instance, as "when, as they say, he +had been absent for four days" might be expected to embody at least +three radical elements corresponding to the concepts of "absent," +"four," and "day." As a matter of fact the Nootka word is utterly +incapable of composition in our sense. It is invariably built up out of +a single radical element and a greater or less number of suffixed +elements, some of which may have as concrete a significance as the +radical element itself. In, the particular case we have cited the +radical element conveys the idea of "four," the notions of "day" and +"absent" being expressed by suffixes that are as inseparable from the +radical nucleus of the word as is an English element like _-er_ from the +_sing_ or _hunt_ of such words as _singer_ and _hunter_. The tendency to +word synthesis is, then, by no means the same thing as the tendency to +compounding radical elements, though the latter is not infrequently a +ready means for the synthetic tendency to work with. + +There is a bewildering variety of types of composition. These types +vary according to function, the nature of the compounded elements, and +order. In a great many languages composition is confined to what we may +call the delimiting function, that is, of the two or more compounded +elements one is given a more precisely qualified significance by the +others, which contribute nothing to the formal build of the sentence. In +English, for instance, such compounded elements as _red_ in _redcoat_ or +_over_ in _overlook_ merely modify the significance of the dominant +_coat_ or _look_ without in any way sharing, as such, in the predication +that is expressed by the sentence. Some languages, however, such as +Iroquois and Nahuatl,[28] employ the method of composition for much +heavier work than this. In Iroquois, for instance, the composition of a +noun, in its radical form, with a following verb is a typical method of +expressing case relations, particularly of the subject or object. +_I-meat-eat_ for instance, is the regular Iroquois method of expressing +the sentence _I am eating meat_. In other languages similar forms may +express local or instrumental or still other relations. Such English +forms as _killjoy_ and _marplot_ also illustrate the compounding of a +verb and a noun, but the resulting word has a strictly nominal, not a +verbal, function. We cannot say _he marplots_. Some languages allow the +composition of all or nearly all types of elements. Paiute, for +instance, may compound noun with noun, adjective with noun, verb with +noun to make a noun, noun with verb to make a verb, adverb with verb, +verb with verb. Yana, an Indian language of California, can freely +compound noun with noun and verb with noun, but not verb with verb. +On the other hand, Iroquois can compound only noun with verb, never +noun and noun as in English or verb and verb as in so many other +languages. Finally, each language has its characteristic types of order +of composition. In English the qualifying element regularly precedes; in +certain other languages it follows. Sometimes both types are used in the +same language, as in Yana, where "beef" is "bitter-venison" but +"deer-liver" is expressed by "liver-deer." The compounded object of a +verb precedes the verbal element in Paiute, Nahuatl, and Iroquois, +follows it in Yana, Tsimshian,[29] and the Algonkin languages. + +[Footnote 28: The language of the Aztecs, still spoken in large parts of +Mexico.] + +[Footnote 29: Indian language of British Columbia closely related to the +Nass already cited.] + +Of all grammatical processes affixing is incomparably the most +frequently employed. There are languages, like Chinese and Siamese, that +make no grammatical use of elements that do not at the same time possess +an independent value as radical elements, but such languages are +uncommon. Of the three types of affixing--the use of prefixes, suffixes, +and infixes--suffixing is much the commonest. Indeed, it is a fair guess +that suffixes do more of the formative work of language than all other +methods combined. It is worth noting that there are not a few affixing +languages that make absolutely no use of prefixed elements but possess a +complex apparatus of suffixes. Such are Turkish, Hottentot, Eskimo, +Nootka, and Yana. Some of these, like the three last mentioned, have +hundreds of suffixed elements, many of them of a concreteness of +significance that would demand expression in the vast majority of +languages by means of radical elements. The reverse case, the use of +prefixed elements to the complete exclusion of suffixes, is far less +common. A good example is Khmer (or Cambodgian), spoken in French +Cochin-China, though even here there are obscure traces of old suffixes +that have ceased to function as such and are now felt to form part of +the radical element. + +A considerable majority of known languages are prefixing and suffixing +at one and the same time, but the relative importance of the two groups +of affixed elements naturally varies enormously. In some languages, such +as Latin and Russian, the suffixes alone relate the word to the rest of +the sentence, the prefixes being confined to the expression of such +ideas as delimit the concrete significance of the radical element +without influencing its bearing in the proposition. A Latin form like +_remittebantur_ "they were being sent back" may serve as an illustration +of this type of distribution of elements. The prefixed element _re-_ +"back" merely qualifies to a certain extent the inherent significance of +the radical element _mitt-_ "send," while the suffixes _-eba-_, _-nt-_, +and _-ur_ convey the less concrete, more strictly formal, notions of +time, person, plurality, and passivity. + +On the other hand, there are languages, like the Bantu group of Africa +or the Athabaskan languages[30] of North America, in which the +grammatically significant elements precede, those that follow the +radical element forming a relatively dispensable class. The Hupa word +_te-s-e-ya-te_ "I will go," for example, consists of a radical element +_-ya-_ "to go," three essential prefixes and a formally subsidiary +suffix. The element _te-_ indicates that the act takes place here and +there in space or continuously over space; practically, it has no +clear-cut significance apart from such verb stems as it is customary to +connect it with. The second prefixed element, _-s-_, is even less easy +to define. All we can say is that it is used in verb forms of "definite" +time and that it marks action as in progress rather than as beginning or +coming to an end. The third prefix, _-e-_, is a pronominal element, "I," +which can be used only in "definite" tenses. It is highly important to +understand that the use of _-e-_ is conditional on that of _-s-_ or of +certain alternative prefixes and that _te-_ also is in practice linked +with _-s-_. The group _te-s-e-ya_ is a firmly knit grammatical unit. The +suffix _-te_, which indicates the future, is no more necessary to its +formal balance than is the prefixed _re-_ of the Latin word; it is not +an element that is capable of standing alone but its function is +materially delimiting rather than strictly formal.[31] + +[Footnote 30: Including such languages as Navaho, Apache, Hupa, Carrier, +Chipewyan, Loucheux.] + +[Footnote 31: This may seem surprising to an English reader. We +generally think of time as a function that is appropriately expressed in +a purely formal manner. This notion is due to the bias that Latin +grammar has given us. As a matter of fact the English future (_I shall +go_) is not expressed by affixing at all; moreover, it may be expressed +by the present, as in _to-morrow I leave this place_, where the temporal +function is inherent in the independent adverb. Though in lesser degree, +the Hupa _-te_ is as irrelevant to the vital word as is _to-morrow_ to +the grammatical "feel" of _I leave_.] + +It is not always, however, that we can clearly set off the suffixes of a +language as a group against its prefixes. In probably the majority of +languages that use both types of affixes each group has both delimiting +and formal or relational functions. The most that we can say is that a +language tends to express similar functions in either the one or the +other manner. If a certain verb expresses a certain tense by suffixing, +the probability is strong that it expresses its other tenses in an +analogous fashion and that, indeed, all verbs have suffixed tense +elements. Similarly, we normally expect to find the pronominal elements, +so far as they are included in the verb at all, either consistently +prefixed or suffixed. But these rules are far from absolute. We have +already seen that Hebrew prefixes its pronominal elements in certain +cases, suffixes them in others. In Chimariko, an Indian language of +California, the position of the pronominal affixes depends on the verb; +they are prefixed for certain verbs, suffixed for others. + +It will not be necessary to give many further examples of prefixing and +suffixing. One of each category will suffice to illustrate their +formative possibilities. The idea expressed in English by the sentence +_I came to give it to her_ is rendered in Chinook[32] by +_i-n-i-a-l-u-d-am_. This word--and it is a thoroughly unified word with +a clear-cut accent on the first _a_--consists of a radical element, +_-d-_ "to give," six functionally distinct, if phonetically frail, +prefixed elements, and a suffix. Of the prefixes, _i-_ indicates +recently past time; _n-_, the pronominal subject "I"; _-i-_, the +pronominal object "it";[33] _-a-_, the second pronominal object "her"; +_-l-_, a prepositional element indicating that the preceding pronominal +prefix is to be understood as an indirect object (_-her-to-_, i.e., "to +her"); and _-u-_, an element that it is not easy to define +satisfactorily but which, on the whole, indicates movement away from the +speaker. The suffixed _-am_ modifies the verbal content in a local +sense; it adds to the notion conveyed by the radical element that of +"arriving" or "going (or coming) for that particular purpose." It is +obvious that in Chinook, as in Hupa, the greater part of the grammatical +machinery resides in the prefixes rather than in the suffixes. + +[Footnote 32: Wishram dialect.] + +[Footnote 33: Really "him," but Chinook, like Latin or French, possesses +grammatical gender. An object may be referred to as "he," "she," or +"it," according to the characteristic form of its noun.] + +A reverse case, one in which the grammatically significant elements +cluster, as in Latin, at the end of the word is yielded by Fox, one of +the better known Algonkin languages of the Mississippi Valley. We may +take the form _eh-kiwi-n-a-m-oht-ati-wa-ch(i)_ "then they together kept +(him) in flight from them." The radical element here is _kiwi-_, a verb +stem indicating the general notion of "indefinite movement round about, +here and there." The prefixed element _eh-_ is hardly more than an +adverbial particle indicating temporal subordination; it may be +conveniently rendered as "then." Of the seven suffixes included in this +highly-wrought word, _-n-_ seems to be merely a phonetic element serving +to connect the verb stem with the following _-a-_;[34] _-a-_ is a +"secondary stem"[35] denoting the idea of "flight, to flee"; _-m-_ +denotes causality with reference to an animate object;[36] _-o(ht)-_ +indicates activity done for the subject (the so-called "middle" or +"medio-passive" voice of Greek); _-(a)ti-_ is a reciprocal element, "one +another"; _-wa-ch(i)_ is the third person animate plural (_-wa-_, +plural; _-chi_, more properly personal) of so-called "conjunctive" +forms. The word may be translated more literally (and yet only +approximately as to grammatical feeling) as "then they (animate) caused +some animate being to wander about in flight from one another of +themselves." Eskimo, Nootka, Yana, and other languages have similarly +complex arrays of suffixed elements, though the functions performed by +them and their principles of combination differ widely. + +[Footnote 34: This analysis is doubtful. It is likely that _-n-_ +possesses a function that still remains to be ascertained. The Algonkin +languages are unusually complex and present many unsolved problems of +detail.] + +[Footnote 35: "Secondary stems" are elements which are suffixes from a +formal point of view, never appearing without the support of a true +radical element, but whose function is as concrete, to all intents and +purposes, as that of the radical element itself. Secondary verb stems of +this type are characteristic of the Algonkin languages and of Yana.] + +[Footnote 36: In the Algonkin languages all persons and things are +conceived of as either animate or inanimate, just as in Latin or German +they are conceived of as masculine, feminine, or neuter.] + +We have reserved the very curious type of affixation known as "infixing" +for separate illustration. It is utterly unknown in English, unless we +consider the _-n-_ of _stand_ (contrast _stood_) as an infixed element. +The earlier Indo-European languages, such as Latin, Greek and Sanskrit, +made a fairly considerable use of infixed nasals to differentiate the +present tense of a certain class of verbs from other forms (contrast +Latin _vinc-o_ "I conquer" with _vic-i_ "I conquered"; Greek _lamb-an-o_ +"I take" with _e-lab-on_ "I took"). There are, however, more striking +examples of the process, examples in which it has assumed a more clearly +defined function than in these Latin and Greek cases. It is particularly +prevalent in many languages of southeastern Asia and of the Malay +archipelago. Good examples from Khmer (Cambodgian) are _tmeu_ "one who +walks" and _daneu_ "walking" (verbal noun), both derived from _deu_ "to +walk." Further examples may be quoted from Bontoc Igorot, a Filipino +language. Thus, an infixed _-in-_ conveys the idea of the product of an +accomplished action, e.g., _kayu_ "wood," _kinayu_ "gathered wood." +Infixes are also freely used in the Bontoc Igorot verb. Thus, an infixed +_-um-_ is characteristic of many intransitive verbs with personal +pronominal suffixes, e.g., _sad-_ "to wait," _sumid-ak_ "I wait"; +_kineg_ "silent," _kuminek-ak_ "I am silent." In other verbs it +indicates futurity, e.g., _tengao-_ "to celebrate a holiday," +_tumengao-ak_ "I shall have a holiday." The past tense is frequently +indicated by an infixed _-in-_; if there is already an infixed _-um-_, +the two elements combine to _-in-m-_, e.g., _kinminek-ak_ "I am silent." +Obviously the infixing process has in this (and related) languages the +same vitality that is possessed by the commoner prefixes and suffixes +of other languages. The process is also found in a number of aboriginal +American languages. The Yana plural is sometimes formed by an infixed +element, e.g., _k'uruwi_ "medicine-men," _k'uwi_ "medicine-man"; in +Chinook an infixed _-l-_ is used in certain verbs to indicate repeated +activity, e.g., _ksik'ludelk_ "she keeps looking at him," _iksik'lutk_ +"she looked at him" (radical element _-tk_). A peculiarly interesting +type of infixation is found in the Siouan languages, in which certain +verbs insert the pronominal elements into the very body of the radical +element, e.g., Sioux _cheti_ "to build a fire," _chewati_ "I build a +fire"; _shuta_ "to miss," _shuunta-pi_ "we miss." + +A subsidiary but by no means unimportant grammatical process is that of +internal vocalic or consonantal change. In some languages, as in English +(_sing_, _sang_, _sung_, _song_; _goose_, _geese_), the former of these +has become one of the major methods of indicating fundamental changes of +grammatical function. At any rate, the process is alive enough to lead +our children into untrodden ways. We all know of the growing youngster +who speaks of having _brung_ something, on the analogy of such forms as +_sung_ and _flung_. In Hebrew, as we have seen, vocalic change is of +even greater significance than in English. What is true of Hebrew is of +course true of all other Semitic languages. A few examples of so-called +"broken" plurals from Arabic[37] will supplement the Hebrew verb forms +that I have given in another connection. The noun _balad_ "place" has +the plural form _bilad_;[38] _gild_ "hide" forms the plural _gulud_; +_ragil_ "man," the plural _rigal_; _shibbak_ "window," the plural +_shababik_. Very similar phenomena are illustrated by the Hamitic +languages of Northern Africa, e.g., Shilh[39] _izbil_ "hair," plural +_izbel_; _a-slem_ "fish," plural _i-slim-en_; _sn_ "to know," _sen_ "to +be knowing"; _rmi_ "to become tired," _rumni_ "to be tired"; _ttss_[40] +"to fall asleep," _ttoss_ "to sleep." Strikingly similar to English and +Greek alternations of the type _sing_--_sang_ and _leip-o_ "I leave," +_leloip-a_ "I have left," are such Somali[41] cases as _al_ "I am," _il_ +"I was"; _i-dah-a_ "I say," _i-di_ "I said," _deh_ "say!" + +[Footnote 37: Egyptian dialect.] + +[Footnote 38: There are changes of accent and vocalic quantity in these +forms as well, but the requirements of simplicity force us to neglect +them.] + +[Footnote 39: A Berber language of Morocco.] + +[Footnote 40: Some of the Berber languages allow consonantal +combinations that seem unpronounceable to us.] + +[Footnote 41: One of the Hamitic languages of eastern Africa.] + +Vocalic change is of great significance also in a number of American +Indian languages. In the Athabaskan group many verbs change the quality +or quantity of the vowel of the radical element as it changes its tense +or mode. The Navaho verb for "I put (grain) into a receptacle" is +_bi-hi-sh-ja_, in which _-ja_ is the radical element; the past tense, +_bi-hi-ja'_, has a long _a_-vowel, followed by the "glottal stop"[42]; +the future is _bi-h-de-sh-ji_ with complete change of vowel. In other +types of Navaho verbs the vocalic changes follow different lines, e.g., +_yah-a-ni-ye_ "you carry (a pack) into (a stable)"; past, _yah-i-ni-yin_ +(with long _i_ in _-yin_; _-n_ is here used to indicate nasalization); +future, _yah-a-di-yehl_ (with long _e_). In another Indian language, +Yokuts[43], vocalic modifications affect both noun and verb forms. Thus, +_buchong_ "son" forms the plural _bochang-i_ (contrast the objective +_buchong-a_); _enash_ "grandfather," the plural _inash-a_; the verb +_engtyim_ "to sleep" forms the continuative _ingetym-ad_ "to be +sleeping" and the past _ingetym-ash_. + +[Footnote 42: See page 49.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 42 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 1534.] + +[Footnote 43: Spoken in the south-central part of California.] + +Consonantal change as a functional process is probably far less common +than vocalic modifications, but it is not exactly rare. There is an +interesting group of cases in English, certain nouns and corresponding +verbs differing solely in that the final consonant is voiceless or +voiced. Examples are _wreath_ (with _th_ as in _think_), but _to +wreathe_ (with _th_ as in _then_); _house_, but _to house_ (with _s_ +pronounced like _z_). That we have a distinct feeling for the +interchange as a means of distinguishing the noun from the verb is +indicated by the extension of the principle by many Americans to such a +noun as _rise_ (e.g., _the rise of democracy_)--pronounced like +_rice_--in contrast to the verb _to rise_ (_s_ like _z_). + +In the Celtic languages the initial consonants undergo several types of +change according to the grammatical relation that subsists between the +word itself and the preceding word. Thus, in modern Irish, a word like +_bo_ "ox" may under the appropriate circumstances, take the forms _bho_ +(pronounce _wo_) or _mo_ (e.g., _an bo_ "the ox," as a subject, but _tir +na mo_ "land of the oxen," as a possessive plural). In the verb the +principle has as one of its most striking consequences the "aspiration" +of initial consonants in the past tense. If a verb begins with _t_, say, +it changes the _t_ to _th_ (now pronounced _h_) in forms of the past; if +it begins with _g_, the consonant changes, in analogous forms, to _gh_ +(pronounced like a voiced spirant[44] _g_ or like _y_, according to the +nature of the following vowel). In modern Irish the principle of +consonantal change, which began in the oldest period of the language as +a secondary consequence of certain phonetic conditions, has become one +of the primary grammatical processes of the language. + +[Footnote 44: See page 50.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 44 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 1534.] + +Perhaps as remarkable as these Irish phenomena are the consonantal +interchanges of Ful, an African language of the Soudan. Here we find +that all nouns belonging to the personal class form the plural by +changing their initial _g_, _j_, _d_, _b_, _k_, _ch_, and _p_ to _y_ (or +_w_), _y_, _r_, _w_, _h_, _s_ and _f_ respectively; e.g., _jim-o_ +"companion," _yim-'be_ "companions"; _pio-o_ "beater," _fio-'be_ +"beaters." Curiously enough, nouns that belong to the class of things +form their singular and plural in exactly reverse fashion, e.g., +_yola-re_ "grass-grown place," _jola-je_ "grass-grown places"; +_fitan-du_ "soul," _pital-i_ "souls." In Nootka, to refer to but one +other language in which the process is found, the _t_ or _tl_[45] of +many verbal suffixes becomes _hl_ in forms denoting repetition, e.g., +_hita-'ato_ "to fall out," _hita-'ahl_ "to keep falling out"; +_mat-achisht-utl_ "to fly on to the water," _mat-achisht-ohl_ "to keep +flying on to the water." Further, the _hl_ of certain elements changes +to a peculiar _h_-sound in plural forms, e.g., _yak-ohl_ "sore-faced," +_yak-oh_ "sore-faced (people)." + +[Footnote 45: These orthographies are but makeshifts for simple sounds.] + +Nothing is more natural than the prevalence of reduplication, in other +words, the repetition of all or part of the radical element. The process +is generally employed, with self-evident symbolism, to indicate such +concepts as distribution, plurality, repetition, customary activity, +increase of size, added intensity, continuance. Even in English it is +not unknown, though it is not generally accounted one of the typical +formative devices of our language. Such words as _goody-goody_ and _to +pooh-pooh_ have become accepted as part of our normal vocabulary, but +the method of duplication may on occasion be used more freely than is +indicated by such stereotyped examples. Such locutions as _a big big +man_ or _Let it cool till it's thick thick_ are far more common, +especially in the speech of women and children, than our linguistic +text-books would lead one to suppose. In a class by themselves are the +really enormous number of words, many of them sound-imitative or +contemptuous in psychological tone, that consist of duplications with +either change of the vowel or change of the initial consonant--words of +the type _sing-song_, _riff-raff_, _wishy-washy_, _harum-skarum_, +_roly-poly_. Words of this type are all but universal. Such examples as +the Russian _Chudo-Yudo_ (a dragon), the Chinese _ping-pang_ "rattling +of rain on the roof,"[46] the Tibetan _kyang-kyong_ "lazy," and the +Manchu _porpon parpan_ "blear-eyed" are curiously reminiscent, both in +form and in psychology, of words nearer home. But it can hardly be said +that the duplicative process is of a distinctively grammatical +significance in English. We must turn to other languages for +illustration. Such cases as Hottentot _go-go_ "to look at carefully" +(from _go_ "to see"), Somali _fen-fen_ "to gnaw at on all sides" (from +_fen_ "to gnaw at"), Chinook _iwi iwi_ "to look about carefully, to +examine" (from _iwi_ "to appear"), or Tsimshian _am'am_ "several (are) +good" (from _am_ "good") do not depart from the natural and fundamental +range of significance of the process. A more abstract function is +illustrated in Ewe,[47] in which both infinitives and verbal adjectives +are formed from verbs by duplication; e.g., _yi_ "to go," _yiyi_ "to go, +act of going"; _wo_ "to do," _wowo_[48] "done"; _mawomawo_ "not to do" +(with both duplicated verb stem and duplicated negative particle). +Causative duplications are characteristic of Hottentot, e.g., +_gam-gam_[49] "to cause to tell" (from _gam_ "to tell"). Or the process +may be used to derive verbs from nouns, as in Hottentot _khoe-khoe_ "to +talk Hottentot" (from _khoe-b_ "man, Hottentot"), or as in Kwakiutl +_metmat_ "to eat clams" (radical element _met-_ "clam"). + +[Footnote 46: Whence our _ping-pong_.] + +[Footnote 47: An African language of the Guinea Coast.] + +[Footnote 48: In the verbal adjective the tone of the second syllable +differs from that of the first.] + +[Footnote 49: Initial "click" (see page 55, note 15) omitted.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 49 refers to Footnote 24, beginning on +line 1729.] + +The most characteristic examples of reduplication are such as repeat +only part of the radical element. It would be possible to demonstrate +the existence of a vast number of formal types of such partial +duplication, according to whether the process makes use of one or more +of the radical consonants, preserves or weakens or alters the radical +vowel, or affects the beginning, the middle, or the end of the radical +element. The functions are even more exuberantly developed than with +simple duplication, though the basic notion, at least in origin, is +nearly always one of repetition or continuance. Examples illustrating +this fundamental function can be quoted from all parts of the globe. +Initially reduplicating are, for instance, Shilh _ggen_ "to be sleeping" +(from _gen_ "to sleep"); Ful _pepeu-'do_ "liar" (i.e., "one who always +lies"), plural _fefeu-'be_ (from _fewa_ "to lie"); Bontoc Igorot _anak_ +"child," _ananak_ "children"; _kamu-ek_ "I hasten," _kakamu-ek_ "I +hasten more"; Tsimshian _gyad_ "person," _gyigyad_ "people"; Nass +_gyibayuk_ "to fly," _gyigyibayuk_ "one who is flying." Psychologically +comparable, but with the reduplication at the end, are Somali _ur_ +"body," plural _urar_; Hausa _suna_ "name," plural _sunana-ki;_ +Washo[50] _gusu_ "buffalo," _gususu_ "buffaloes"; Takelma[51] _himi-d-_ +"to talk to," _himim-d-_ "to be accustomed to talk to." Even more +commonly than simple duplication, this partial duplication of the +radical element has taken on in many languages functions that seem in no +way related to the idea of increase. The best known examples are +probably the initial reduplication of our older Indo-European languages, +which helps to form the perfect tense of many verbs (e.g., Sanskrit +_dadarsha_ "I have seen," Greek _leloipa_ "I have left," Latin _tetigi_ +"I have touched," Gothic _lelot_ "I have let"). In Nootka reduplication +of the radical element is often employed in association with certain +suffixes; e.g., _hluch-_ "woman" forms _hluhluch-'ituhl_ "to dream of a +woman," _hluhluch-k'ok_ "resembling a woman." Psychologically similar to +the Greek and Latin examples are many Takelma cases of verbs that +exhibit two forms of the stem, one employed in the present or past, the +other in the future and in certain modes and verbal derivatives. The +former has final reduplication, which is absent in the latter; e.g., +_al-yebeb-i'n_ "I show (or showed) to him," _al-yeb-in_ "I shall show +him." + +[Footnote 50: An Indian language of Nevada.] + +[Footnote 51: An Indian language of Oregon.] + +We come now to the subtlest of all grammatical processes, variations in +accent, whether of stress or pitch. The chief difficulty in isolating +accent as a functional process is that it is so often combined with +alternations in vocalic quantity or quality or complicated by the +presence of affixed elements that its grammatical value appears as a +secondary rather than as a primary feature. In Greek, for instance, it +is characteristic of true verbal forms that they throw the accent back +as far as the general accentual rules will permit, while nouns may be +more freely accented. There is thus a striking accentual difference +between a verbal form like _eluthemen_ "we were released," accented on +the second syllable of the word, and its participial derivative +_lutheis_ "released," accented on the last. The presence of the +characteristic verbal elements _e-_ and _-men_ in the first case and of +the nominal _-s_ in the second tends to obscure the inherent value of +the accentual alternation. This value comes out very neatly in such +English doublets as _to refund_ and _a refund_, _to extract_ and _an +extract, to come down_ and _a come down_, _to lack luster_ and +_lack-luster eyes_, in which the difference between the verb and the +noun is entirely a matter of changing stress. In the Athabaskan +languages there are not infrequently significant alternations of accent, +as in Navaho _ta-di-gis_ "you wash yourself" (accented on the second +syllable), _ta-di-gis_ "he washes himself" (accented on the first).[52] + +[Footnote 52: It is not unlikely, however, that these Athabaskan +alternations are primarily tonal in character.] + +Pitch accent may be as functional as stress and is perhaps more often +so. The mere fact, however, that pitch variations are phonetically +essential to the language, as in Chinese (e.g., _feng_ "wind" with a +level tone, _feng_ "to serve" with a falling tone) or as in classical +Greek (e.g., _lab-on_ "having taken" with a simple or high tone on the +suffixed participial _-on_, _gunaik-on_ "of women" with a compound or +falling tone on the case suffix _-on_) does not necessarily constitute a +functional, or perhaps we had better say grammatical, use of pitch. In +such cases the pitch is merely inherent in the radical element or affix, +as any vowel or consonant might be. It is different with such Chinese +alternations as _chung_ (level) "middle" and _chung_ (falling) "to hit +the middle"; _mai_ (rising) "to buy" and _mai_ (falling) "to sell"; +_pei_ (falling) "back" and _pei_ (level) "to carry on the back." +Examples of this type are not exactly common in Chinese and the language +cannot be said to possess at present a definite feeling for tonal +differences as symbolic of the distinction between noun and verb. + +There are languages, however, in which such differences are of the most +fundamental grammatical importance. They are particularly common in the +Soudan. In Ewe, for instance, there are formed from _subo_ "to serve" +two reduplicated forms, an infinitive _subosubo_ "to serve," with a low +tone on the first two syllables and a high one on the last two, and an +adjectival _subosubo_ "serving," in which all the syllables have a high +tone. Even more striking are cases furnished by Shilluk, one of the +languages of the headwaters of the Nile. The plural of the noun often +differs in tone from the singular, e.g., _yit_ (high) "ear" but _yit_ +(low) "ears." In the pronoun three forms may be distinguished by tone +alone; _e_ "he" has a high tone and is subjective, _-e_ "him" (e.g., _a +chwol-e_ "he called him") has a low tone and is objective, _-e_ "his" +(e.g., _wod-e_ "his house") has a middle tone and is possessive. From +the verbal element _gwed-_ "to write" are formed _gwed-o_ "(he) writes" +with a low tone, the passive _gwet_ "(it was) written" with a falling +tone, the imperative _gwet_ "write!" with a rising tone, and the verbal +noun _gwet_ "writing" with a middle tone. In aboriginal America also +pitch accent is known to occur as a grammatical process. A good example +of such a pitch language is Tlingit, spoken by the Indians of the +southern coast of Alaska. In this language many verbs vary the tone of +the radical element according to tense; _hun_ "to sell," _sin_ "to +hide," _tin_ "to see," and numerous other radical elements, if +low-toned, refer to past time, if high-toned, to the future. Another +type of function is illustrated by the Takelma forms _hel_ "song," with +falling pitch, but _hel_ "sing!" with a rising inflection; parallel to +these forms are _sel_ (falling) "black paint," _sel_ (rising) "paint +it!" All in all it is clear that pitch accent, like stress and vocalic +or consonantal modifications, is far less infrequently employed as a +grammatical process than our own habits of speech would prepare us to +believe probable. + + + + +V + +FORM IN LANGUAGE: GRAMMATICAL CONCEPTS + + +We have seen that the single word expresses either a simple concept or a +combination of concepts so interrelated as to form a psychological +unity. We have, furthermore, briefly reviewed from a strictly formal +standpoint the main processes that are used by all known languages to +affect the fundamental concepts--those embodied in unanalyzable words or +in the radical elements of words--by the modifying or formative +influence of subsidiary concepts. In this chapter we shall look a little +more closely into the nature of the world of concepts, in so far as that +world is reflected and systematized in linguistic structure. + +Let us begin with a simple sentence that involves various kinds of +concepts--_the farmer kills the duckling_. A rough and ready analysis +discloses here the presence of three distinct and fundamental concepts +that are brought into connection with each other in a number of ways. +These three concepts are "farmer" (the subject of discourse), "kill" +(defining the nature of the activity which the sentence informs us +about), and "duckling" (another subject[53] of discourse that takes an +important though somewhat passive part in this activity). We can +visualize the farmer and the duckling and we have also no difficulty in +constructing an image of the killing. In other words, the elements +_farmer_, _kill_, and _duckling_ define concepts of a concrete order. + +[Footnote 53: Not in its technical sense.] + +But a more careful linguistic analysis soon brings us to see that the +two subjects of discourse, however simply we may visualize them, are not +expressed quite as directly, as immediately, as we feel them. A "farmer" +is in one sense a perfectly unified concept, in another he is "one who +farms." The concept conveyed by the radical element (_farm-_) is not one +of personality at all but of an industrial activity (_to farm_), itself +based on the concept of a particular type of object (_a farm_). +Similarly, the concept of _duckling_ is at one remove from that which is +expressed by the radical element of the word, _duck_. This element, +which may occur as an independent word, refers to a whole class of +animals, big and little, while _duckling_ is limited in its application +to the young of that class. The word _farmer_ has an "agentive" suffix +_-er_ that performs the function of indicating the one that carries out +a given activity, in this case that of farming. It transforms the verb +_to farm_ into an agentive noun precisely as it transforms the verbs _to +sing_, _to paint_, _to teach_ into the corresponding agentive nouns +_singer_, _painter_, _teacher_. The element _-ling_ is not so freely +used, but its significance is obvious. It adds to the basic concept the +notion of smallness (as also in _gosling_, _fledgeling_) or the somewhat +related notion of "contemptible" (as in _weakling_, _princeling_, +_hireling_). The agentive _-er_ and the diminutive _-ling_ both convey +fairly concrete ideas (roughly those of "doer" and "little"), but the +concreteness is not stressed. They do not so much define distinct +concepts as mediate between concepts. The _-er_ of _farmer_ does not +quite say "one who (farms)" it merely indicates that the sort of person +we call a "farmer" is closely enough associated with activity on a farm +to be conventionally thought of as always so occupied. He may, as a +matter of fact, go to town and engage in any pursuit but farming, yet +his linguistic label remains "farmer." Language here betrays a certain +helplessness or, if one prefers, a stubborn tendency to look away from +the immediately suggested function, trusting to the imagination and to +usage to fill in the transitions of thought and the details of +application that distinguish one concrete concept (_to farm_) from +another "derived" one (_farmer_). It would be impossible for any +language to express every concrete idea by an independent word or +radical element. The concreteness of experience is infinite, the +resources of the richest language are strictly limited. It must perforce +throw countless concepts under the rubric of certain basic ones, using +other concrete or semi-concrete ideas as functional mediators. The ideas +expressed by these mediating elements--they may be independent words, +affixes, or modifications of the radical element--may be called +"derivational" or "qualifying." Some concrete concepts, such as _kill_, +are expressed radically; others, such as _farmer_ and _duckling_, are +expressed derivatively. Corresponding to these two modes of expression +we have two types of concepts and of linguistic elements, radical +(_farm_, _kill_, _duck_) and derivational (_-er_, _-ling_). When a word +(or unified group of words) contains a derivational element (or word) +the concrete significance of the radical element (_farm-_, _duck-_) +tends to fade from consciousness and to yield to a new concreteness +(_farmer_, _duckling_) that is synthetic in expression rather than in +thought. In our sentence the concepts of _farm_ and _duck_ are not +really involved at all; they are merely latent, for formal reasons, in +the linguistic expression. + +Returning to this sentence, we feel that the analysis of _farmer_ and +_duckling_ are practically irrelevant to an understanding of its content +and entirely irrelevant to a feeling for the structure of the sentence +as a whole. From the standpoint of the sentence the derivational +elements _-er_ and _-ling_ are merely details in the local economy of +two of its terms (_farmer_, _duckling_) that it accepts as units of +expression. This indifference of the sentence as such to some part of +the analysis of its words is shown by the fact that if we substitute +such radical words as _man_ and _chick_ for _farmer_ and _duckling_, we +obtain a new material content, it is true, but not in the least a new +structural mold. We can go further and substitute another activity for +that of "killing," say "taking." The new sentence, _the man takes the +chick_, is totally different from the first sentence in what it conveys, +not in how it conveys it. We feel instinctively, without the slightest +attempt at conscious analysis, that the two sentences fit precisely the +same pattern, that they are really the same fundamental sentence, +differing only in their material trappings. In other words, they express +identical relational concepts in an identical manner. The manner is here +threefold--the use of an inherently relational word (_the_) in analogous +positions, the analogous sequence (subject; predicate, consisting of +verb and object) of the concrete terms of the sentence, and the use of +the suffixed element _-s_ in the verb. + +Change any of these features of the sentence and it becomes modified, +slightly or seriously, in some purely relational, non-material regard. +If _the_ is omitted (_farmer kills duckling_, _man takes chick_), the +sentence becomes impossible; it falls into no recognized formal pattern +and the two subjects of discourse seem to hang incompletely in the void. +We feel that there is no relation established between either of them +and what is already in the minds of the speaker and his auditor. As soon +as a _the_ is put before the two nouns, we feel relieved. We know that +the farmer and duckling which the sentence tells us about are the same +farmer and duckling that we had been talking about or hearing about or +thinking about some time before. If I meet a man who is not looking at +and knows nothing about the farmer in question, I am likely to be stared +at for my pains if I announce to him that "the farmer [what farmer?] +kills the duckling [didn't know he had any, whoever he is]." If the fact +nevertheless seems interesting enough to communicate, I should be +compelled to speak of "_a farmer_ up my way" and of "_a duckling_ of +his." These little words, _the_ and _a_, have the important function of +establishing a definite or an indefinite reference. + +If I omit the first _the_ and also leave out the suffixed _-s_, I obtain +an entirely new set of relations. _Farmer, kill the duckling_ implies +that I am now speaking to the farmer, not merely about him; further, +that he is not actually killing the bird, but is being ordered by me to +do so. The subjective relation of the first sentence has become a +vocative one, one of address, and the activity is conceived in terms of +command, not of statement. We conclude, therefore, that if the farmer is +to be merely talked about, the little _the_ must go back into its place +and the _-s_ must not be removed. The latter element clearly defines, or +rather helps to define, statement as contrasted with command. I find, +moreover, that if I wish to speak of several farmers, I cannot say _the +farmers kills the duckling_, but must say _the farmers kill the +duckling_. Evidently _-s_ involves the notion of singularity in the +subject. If the noun is singular, the verb must have a form to +correspond; if the noun is plural, the verb has another, corresponding +form.[54] Comparison with such forms as _I kill_ and _you kill_ shows, +moreover, that the _-s_ has exclusive reference to a person other than +the speaker or the one spoken to. We conclude, therefore, that it +connotes a personal relation as well as the notion of singularity. And +comparison with a sentence like _the farmer killed the duckling_ +indicates that there is implied in this overburdened _-s_ a distinct +reference to present time. Statement as such and personal reference may +well be looked upon as inherently relational concepts. Number is +evidently felt by those who speak English as involving a necessary +relation, otherwise there would be no reason to express the concept +twice, in the noun and in the verb. Time also is clearly felt as a +relational concept; if it were not, we should be allowed to say _the +farmer killed-s_ to correspond to _the farmer kill-s_. Of the four +concepts inextricably interwoven in the _-s_ suffix, all are felt as +relational, two necessarily so. The distinction between a truly +relational concept and one that is so felt and treated, though it need +not be in the nature of things, will receive further attention in a +moment. + +[Footnote 54: It is, of course, an "accident" that _-s_ denotes +plurality in the noun, singularity in the verb.] + +Finally, I can radically disturb the relational cut of the sentence by +changing the order of its elements. If the positions of _farmer_ and +_kills_ are interchanged, the sentence reads _kills the farmer the +duckling_, which is most naturally interpreted as an unusual but not +unintelligible mode of asking the question, _does the farmer kill the +duckling?_ In this new sentence the act is not conceived as necessarily +taking place at all. It may or it may not be happening, the implication +being that the speaker wishes to know the truth of the matter and that +the person spoken to is expected to give him the information. The +interrogative sentence possesses an entirely different "modality" from +the declarative one and implies a markedly different attitude of the +speaker towards his companion. An even more striking change in personal +relations is effected if we interchange _the farmer_ and _the duckling_. +_The duckling kills the farmer_ involves precisely the same subjects of +discourse and the same type of activity as our first sentence, but the +roles of these subjects of discourse are now reversed. The duckling has +turned, like the proverbial worm, or, to put it in grammatical +terminology, what was "subject" is now "object," what was object is now +subject. + +The following tabular statement analyzes the sentence from the point of +view of the concepts expressed in it and of the grammatical processes +employed for their expression. + + I. CONCRETE CONCEPTS: + 1. First subject of discourse: _farmer_ + 2. Second subject of discourse: _duckling_ + 3. Activity: _kill_ + ---- analyzable into: + A. RADICAL CONCEPTS: + 1. Verb: _(to) farm_ + 2. Noun: _duck_ + 3. Verb: _kill_ + B. DERIVATIONAL CONCEPTS: + 1. Agentive: expressed by suffix _-er_ + 2. Diminutive: expressed by suffix _-ling_ +II. RELATIONAL CONCEPTS: + Reference: + 1. Definiteness of reference to first subject of discourse: + expressed by first _the_, which has preposed position + 2. Definiteness of reference to second subject of discourse: + expressed by second _the_, which has preposed position + Modality: + 3. Declarative: expressed by sequence of "subject" plus verb; and + implied by suffixed _-s_ + Personal relations: + 4. Subjectivity of _farmer_: expressed by position of _farmer_ + before kills; and by suffixed _-s_ + 5. Objectivity of _duckling_: expressed by position of _duckling_ + after _kills_ + Number: + 6. Singularity of first subject of discourse: expressed by lack of + plural suffix in _farmer_; and by suffix _-s_ in following verb + 7. Singularity of second subject of discourse: expressed by lack + of plural suffix in _duckling_ + Time: + 8. Present: expressed by lack of preterit suffix in verb; and by + suffixed _-s_ + +In this short sentence of five words there are expressed, therefore, +thirteen distinct concepts, of which three are radical and concrete, two +derivational, and eight relational. Perhaps the most striking result of +the analysis is a renewed realization of the curious lack of accord in +our language between function and form. The method of suffixing is used +both for derivational and for relational elements; independent words or +radical elements express both concrete ideas (objects, activities, +qualities) and relational ideas (articles like _the_ and _a_; words +defining case relations, like _of_, _to_, _for_, _with_, _by_; words +defining local relations, like _in_, _on_, _at_); the same relational +concept may be expressed more than once (thus, the singularity of +_farmer_ is both negatively expressed in the noun and positively in the +verb); and one element may convey a group of interwoven concepts rather +than one definite concept alone (thus the _-s_ of _kills_ embodies no +less than four logically independent relations). + +Our analysis may seem a bit labored, but only because we are so +accustomed to our own well-worn grooves of expression that they have +come to be felt as inevitable. Yet destructive analysis of the familiar +is the only method of approach to an understanding of fundamentally +different modes of expression. When one has learned to feel what is +fortuitous or illogical or unbalanced in the structure of his own +language, he is already well on the way towards a sympathetic grasp of +the expression of the various classes of concepts in alien types of +speech. Not everything that is "outlandish" is intrinsically illogical +or far-fetched. It is often precisely the familiar that a wider +perspective reveals as the curiously exceptional. From a purely logical +standpoint it is obvious that there is no inherent reason why the +concepts expressed in our sentence should have been singled out, +treated, and grouped as they have been and not otherwise. The sentence +is the outgrowth of historical and of unreasoning psychological forces +rather than of a logical synthesis of elements that have been clearly +grasped in their individuality. This is the case, to a greater or less +degree, in all languages, though in the forms of many we find a more +coherent, a more consistent, reflection than in our English forms of +that unconscious analysis into individual concepts which is never +entirely absent from speech, however it may be complicated with or +overlaid by the more irrational factors. + +A cursory examination of other languages, near and far, would soon show +that some or all of the thirteen concepts that our sentence happens to +embody may not only be expressed in different form but that they may be +differently grouped among themselves; that some among them may be +dispensed with; and that other concepts, not considered worth expressing +in English idiom, may be treated as absolutely indispensable to the +intelligible rendering of the proposition. First as to a different +method of handling such concepts as we have found expressed in the +English sentence. If we turn to German, we find that in the equivalent +sentence (_Der Bauer tötet das Entelein_) the definiteness of reference +expressed by the English _the_ is unavoidably coupled with three other +concepts--number (both _der_ and _das_ are explicitly singular), case +(_der_ is subjective; _das_ is subjective or objective, by elimination +therefore objective), and gender, a new concept of the relational order +that is not in this case explicitly involved in English (_der_ is +masculine, _das_ is neuter). Indeed, the chief burden of the expression +of case, gender, and number is in the German sentence borne by the +particles of reference rather than by the words that express the +concrete concepts (_Bauer_, _Entelein_) to which these relational +concepts ought logically to attach themselves. In the sphere of concrete +concepts too it is worth noting that the German splits up the idea of +"killing" into the basic concept of "dead" (_tot_) and the derivational +one of "causing to do (or be) so and so" (by the method of vocalic +change, _töt-_); the German _töt-et_ (analytically _tot-_+vowel +change+_-et_) "causes to be dead" is, approximately, the formal +equivalent of our _dead-en-s_, though the idiomatic application of this +latter word is different.[55] + +[Footnote 55: "To cause to be dead" or "to cause to die" in the sense of +"to kill" is an exceedingly wide-spread usage. It is found, for +instance, also in Nootka and Sioux.] + +Wandering still further afield, we may glance at the Yana method of +expression. Literally translated, the equivalent Yana sentence would +read something like "kill-s he farmer[56] he to duck-ling," in which +"he" and "to" are rather awkward English renderings of a general third +personal pronoun (_he_, _she_, _it_, or _they_) and an objective +particle which indicates that the following noun is connected with the +verb otherwise than as subject. The suffixed element in "kill-s" +corresponds to the English suffix with the important exceptions that it +makes no reference to the number of the subject and that the statement +is known to be true, that it is vouched for by the speaker. Number is +only indirectly expressed in the sentence in so far as there is no +specific verb suffix indicating plurality of the subject nor specific +plural elements in the two nouns. Had the statement been made on +another's authority, a totally different "tense-modal" suffix would have +had to be used. The pronouns of reference ("he") imply nothing by +themselves as to number, gender, or case. Gender, indeed, is completely +absent in Yana as a relational category. + +[Footnote 56: Agriculture was not practised by the Yana. The verbal idea +of "to farm" would probably be expressed in some such synthetic manner +as "to dig-earth" or "to grow-cause." There are suffixed elements +corresponding to _-er_ and _-ling_.] + +The Yana sentence has already illustrated the point that certain of our +supposedly essential concepts may be ignored; both the Yana and the +German sentence illustrate the further point that certain concepts may +need expression for which an English-speaking person, or rather the +English-speaking habit, finds no need whatever. One could go on and give +endless examples of such deviations from English form, but we shall have +to content ourselves with a few more indications. In the Chinese +sentence "Man kill duck," which may be looked upon as the practical +equivalent of "The man kills the duck," there is by no means present +for the Chinese consciousness that childish, halting, empty feeling +which we experience in the literal English translation. The three +concrete concepts--two objects and an action--are each directly +expressed by a monosyllabic word which is at the same time a radical +element; the two relational concepts--"subject" and "object"--are +expressed solely by the position of the concrete words before and after +the word of action. And that is all. Definiteness or indefiniteness of +reference, number, personality as an inherent aspect of the verb, tense, +not to speak of gender--all these are given no expression in the +Chinese sentence, which, for all that, is a perfectly adequate +communication--provided, of course, there is that context, that +background of mutual understanding that is essential to the complete +intelligibility of all speech. Nor does this qualification impair our +argument, for in the English sentence too we leave unexpressed a large +number of ideas which are either taken for granted or which have been +developed or are about to be developed in the course of the +conversation. Nothing has been said, for example, in the English, +German, Yana, or Chinese sentence as to the place relations of the +farmer, the duck, the speaker, and the listener. Are the farmer and the +duck both visible or is one or the other invisible from the point of +view of the speaker, and are both placed within the horizon of the +speaker, the listener, or of some indefinite point of reference "off +yonder"? In other words, to paraphrase awkwardly certain latent +"demonstrative" ideas, does this farmer (invisible to us but standing +behind a door not far away from me, you being seated yonder well out of +reach) kill that duckling (which belongs to you)? or does that farmer +(who lives in your neighborhood and whom we see over there) kill that +duckling (that belongs to him)? This type of demonstrative elaboration +is foreign to our way of thinking, but it would seem very natural, +indeed unavoidable, to a Kwakiutl Indian. + +What, then, are the absolutely essential concepts in speech, the +concepts that must be expressed if language is to be a satisfactory +means of communication? Clearly we must have, first of all, a large +stock of basic or radical concepts, the concrete wherewithal of speech. +We must have objects, actions, qualities to talk about, and these must +have their corresponding symbols in independent words or in radical +elements. No proposition, however abstract its intent, is humanly +possible without a tying on at one or more points to the concrete world +of sense. In every intelligible proposition at least two of these +radical ideas must be expressed, though in exceptional cases one or even +both may be understood from the context. And, secondly, such relational +concepts must be expressed as moor the concrete concepts to each other +and construct a definite, fundamental form of proposition. In this +fundamental form there must be no doubt as to the nature of the +relations that obtain between the concrete concepts. We must know what +concrete concept is directly or indirectly related to what other, and +how. If we wish to talk of a thing and an action, we must know if they +are coördinately related to each other (e.g., "He is fond of _wine and +gambling_"); or if the thing is conceived of as the starting point, the +"doer" of the action, or, as it is customary to say, the "subject" of +which the action is predicated; or if, on the contrary, it is the end +point, the "object" of the action. If I wish to communicate an +intelligible idea about a farmer, a duckling, and the act of killing, it +is not enough to state the linguistic symbols for these concrete ideas +in any order, higgledy-piggledy, trusting that the hearer may construct +some kind of a relational pattern out of the general probabilities of +the case. The fundamental syntactic relations must be unambiguously +expressed. I can afford to be silent on the subject of time and place +and number and of a host of other possible types of concepts, but I can +find no way of dodging the issue as to who is doing the killing. There +is no known language that can or does dodge it, any more than it +succeeds in saying something without the use of symbols for the concrete +concepts. + +We are thus once more reminded of the distinction between essential or +unavoidable relational concepts and the dispensable type. The former are +universally expressed, the latter are but sparsely developed in some +languages, elaborated with a bewildering exuberance in others. But what +prevents us from throwing in these "dispensable" or "secondary" +relational concepts with the large, floating group of derivational, +qualifying concepts that we have already discussed? Is there, after all +is said and done, a fundamental difference between a qualifying concept +like the negative in _unhealthy_ and a relational one like the number +concept in _books_? If _unhealthy_ may be roughly paraphrased as _not +healthy_, may not _books_ be just as legitimately paraphrased, barring +the violence to English idiom, as _several book?_ There are, indeed, +languages in which the plural, if expressed at all, is conceived of in +the same sober, restricted, one might almost say casual, spirit in which +we feel the negative in _unhealthy_. For such languages the number +concept has no syntactic significance whatever, is not essentially +conceived of as defining a relation, but falls into the group of +derivational or even of basic concepts. In English, however, as in +French, German, Latin, Greek--indeed in all the languages that we have +most familiarity with--the idea of number is not merely appended to a +given concept of a thing. It may have something of this merely +qualifying value, but its force extends far beyond. It infects much else +in the sentence, molding other concepts, even such as have no +intelligible relation to number, into forms that are said to correspond +to or "agree with" the basic concept to which it is attached in the +first instance. If "a man falls" but "men fall" in English, it is not +because of any inherent change that has taken place in the nature of the +action or because the idea of plurality inherent in "men" must, in the +very nature of ideas, relate itself also to the action performed by +these men. What we are doing in these sentences is what most languages, +in greater or less degree and in a hundred varying ways, are in the +habit of doing--throwing a bold bridge between the two basically +distinct types of concept, the concrete and the abstractly relational, +infecting the latter, as it were, with the color and grossness of the +former. By a certain violence of metaphor the material concept is forced +to do duty for (or intertwine itself with) the strictly relational. + +The case is even more obvious if we take gender as our text. In the two +English phrases, "The white woman that comes" and "The white men that +come," we are not reminded that gender, as well as number, may be +elevated into a secondary relational concept. It would seem a little +far-fetched to make of masculinity and femininity, crassly material, +philosophically accidental concepts that they are, a means of relating +quality and person, person and action, nor would it easily occur to us, +if we had not studied the classics, that it was anything but absurd to +inject into two such highly attenuated relational concepts as are +expressed by "the" and "that" the combined notions of number and sex. +Yet all this, and more, happens in Latin. _Illa alba femina quae venit_ +and _illi albi homines qui veniunt_, conceptually translated, amount to +this: _that_-one-feminine-doer[57] one-feminine-_white_-doer +feminine-doing-one-_woman_ _which_-one-feminine-doer +other[58]-one-now-_come_; and: _that_-several-masculine-doer +several-masculine-_white_-doer masculine-doing-several-_man_ +_which_-several-masculine-doer other-several-now-_come_. Each word +involves no less than four concepts, a radical concept (either properly +concrete--_white_, _man_, _woman_, _come_--or demonstrative--_that_, +_which_) and three relational concepts, selected from the categories of +case, number, gender, person, and tense. Logically, only case[59] (the +relation of _woman_ or _men_ to a following verb, of _which_ to its +antecedent, of _that_ and _white_ to _woman_ or _men_, and of _which_ to +_come_) imperatively demands expression, and that only in connection +with the concepts directly affected (there is, for instance, no need to +be informed that the whiteness is a doing or doer's whiteness[60]). The +other relational concepts are either merely parasitic (gender +throughout; number in the demonstrative, the adjective, the relative, +and the verb) or irrelevant to the essential syntactic form of the +sentence (number in the noun; person; tense). An intelligent and +sensitive Chinaman, accustomed as he is to cut to the very bone of +linguistic form, might well say of the Latin sentence, "How pedantically +imaginative!" It must be difficult for him, when first confronted by the +illogical complexities of our European languages, to feel at home in an +attitude that so largely confounds the subject-matter of speech with its +formal pattern or, to be more accurate, that turns certain fundamentally +concrete concepts to such attenuated relational uses. + +[Footnote 57: "Doer," not "done to." This is a necessarily clumsy tag to +represent the "nominative" (subjective) in contrast to the "accusative" +(objective).] + +[Footnote 58: I.e., not you or I.] + +[Footnote 59: By "case" is here meant not only the subjective-objective +relation but also that of attribution.] + +[Footnote 60: Except in so far as Latin uses this method as a rather +awkward, roundabout method of establishing the attribution of the color +to the particular object or person. In effect one cannot in Latin +directly say that a person is white, merely that what is white is +identical with the person who is, acts, or is acted upon in such and +such a manner. In origin the feel of the Latin _illa alba femina_ is +really "that-one, the-white-one, (namely) the-woman"--three substantive +ideas that are related to each other by a juxtaposition intended to +convey an identity. English and Chinese express the attribution directly +by means of order. In Latin the _illa_ and _alba_ may occupy almost any +position in the sentence. It is important to observe that the subjective +form of _illa_ and _alba_, does not truly define a relation of these +qualifying concepts to _femina_. Such a relation might be formally +expressed _via_ an attributive case, say the genitive (_woman of +whiteness_). In Tibetan both the methods of order and of true case +relation may be employed: _woman white_ (i.e., "white woman") or +_white-of woman_ (i.e., "woman of whiteness, woman who is white, white +woman").] + +I have exaggerated somewhat the concreteness of our subsidiary or rather +non-syntactical relational concepts In order that the essential facts +might come out in bold relief. It goes without saying that a Frenchman +has no clear sex notion in his mind when he speaks of _un arbre_ +("a-masculine tree") or of _une pomme_ ("a-feminine apple"). Nor have +we, despite the grammarians, a very vivid sense of the present as +contrasted with all past and all future time when we say _He comes_.[61] +This is evident from our use of the present to indicate both future time +("He comes to-morrow") and general activity unspecified as to time +("Whenever he comes, I am glad to see him," where "comes" refers to past +occurrences and possible future ones rather than to present activity). +In both the French and English instances the primary ideas of sex and +time have become diluted by form-analogy and by extensions into the +relational sphere, the concepts ostensibly indicated being now so +vaguely delimited that it is rather the tyranny of usage than the need +of their concrete expression that sways us in the selection of this or +that form. If the thinning-out process continues long enough, we may +eventually be left with a system of forms on our hands from which all +the color of life has vanished and which merely persist by inertia, +duplicating each other's secondary, syntactic functions with endless +prodigality. Hence, in part, the complex conjugational systems of so +many languages, in which differences of form are attended by no +assignable differences of function. There must have been a time, for +instance, though it antedates our earliest documentary evidence, when +the type of tense formation represented by _drove_ or _sank_ differed in +meaning, in however slightly nuanced a degree, from the type (_killed_, +_worked_) which has now become established in English as the prevailing +preterit formation, very much as we recognize a valuable distinction at +present between both these types and the "perfect" (_has driven, has +killed_) but may have ceased to do so at some point in the future.[62] +Now form lives longer than its own conceptual content. Both are +ceaselessly changing, but, on the whole, the form tends to linger on +when the spirit has flown or changed its being. Irrational form, form +for form's sake--however we term this tendency to hold on to formal +distinctions once they have come to be--is as natural to the life of +language as is the retention of modes of conduct that have long outlived +the meaning they once had. + +[Footnote 61: Aside, naturally, from the life and imminence that may be +created for such a sentence by a particular context.] + +[Footnote 62: This has largely happened in popular French and German, +where the difference is stylistic rather than functional. The preterits +are more literary or formal in tone than the perfects.] + +There is another powerful tendency which makes for a formal elaboration +that does not strictly correspond to clear-cut conceptual differences. +This is the tendency to construct schemes of classification into which +all the concepts of language must be fitted. Once we have made up our +minds that all things are either definitely good or bad or definitely +black or white, it is difficult to get into the frame of mind that +recognizes that any particular thing may be both good and bad (in other +words, indifferent) or both black and white (in other words, gray), +still more difficult to realize that the good-bad or black-white +categories may not apply at all. Language is in many respects as +unreasonable and stubborn about its classifications as is such a mind. +It must have its perfectly exclusive pigeon-holes and will tolerate no +flying vagrants. Any concept that asks for expression must submit to the +classificatory rules of the game, just as there are statistical surveys +in which even the most convinced atheist must perforce be labeled +Catholic, Protestant, or Jew or get no hearing. In English we have made +up our minds that all action must be conceived of in reference to three +standard times. If, therefore, we desire to state a proposition that is +as true to-morrow as it was yesterday, we have to pretend that the +present moment may be elongated fore and aft so as to take in all +eternity.[63] In French we know once for all that an object is masculine +or feminine, whether it be living or not; just as in many American and +East Asiatic languages it must be understood to belong to a certain +form-category (say, ring-round, ball-round, long and slender, +cylindrical, sheet-like, in mass like sugar) before it can be enumerated +(e.g., "two ball-class potatoes," "three sheet-class carpets") or even +said to "be" or "be handled in a definite way" (thus, in the Athabaskan +languages and in Yana, "to carry" or "throw" a pebble is quite another +thing than to carry or throw a log, linguistically no less than in terms +of muscular experience). Such instances might be multiplied at will. It +is almost as though at some period in the past the unconscious mind of +the race had made a hasty inventory of experience, committed itself to a +premature classification that allowed of no revision, and saddled the +inheritors of its language with a science that they no longer quite +believed in nor had the strength to overthrow. Dogma, rigidly prescribed +by tradition, stiffens into formalism. Linguistic categories make up a +system of surviving dogma--dogma of the unconscious. They are often but +half real as concepts; their life tends ever to languish away into form +for form's sake. + +[Footnote 63: Hence, "the square root of 4 _is_ 2," precisely as "my +uncle _is_ here now." There are many "primitive" languages that are more +philosophical and distinguish between a true "present" and a "customary" +or "general" tense.] + +There is still a third cause for the rise of this non-significant form, +or rather of non-significant differences of form. This is the mechanical +operation of phonetic processes, which may bring about formal +distinctions that have not and never had a corresponding functional +distinction. Much of the irregularity and general formal complexity of +our declensional and conjugational systems is due to this process. The +plural of _hat_ is _hats_, the plural of _self_ is _selves_. In the +former case we have a true _-s_ symbolizing plurality, in the latter a +_z_-sound coupled with a change in the radical element of the word of +_f_ to _v_. Here we have not a falling together of forms that +originally stood for fairly distinct concepts--as we saw was presumably +the case with such parallel forms as _drove_ and _worked_--but a merely +mechanical manifolding of the same formal element without a +corresponding growth of a new concept. This type of form development, +therefore, while of the greatest interest for the general history of +language, does not directly concern us now in our effort to understand +the nature of grammatical concepts and their tendency to degenerate into +purely formal counters. + +We may now conveniently revise our first classification of concepts as +expressed in language and suggest the following scheme: + + I. _Basic (Concrete) Concepts_ (such as objects, actions, qualities): + normally expressed by independent words or radical elements; involve + no relation as such[64] + + II. _Derivational Concepts_ (less concrete, as a rule, than I, more so + than III): normally expressed by affixing non-radical elements to + radical elements or by inner modification of these; differ from type + I in defining ideas that are irrelevant to the proposition as a + whole but that give a radical element a particular increment of + significance and that are thus inherently related in a specific way + to concepts of type I[65] + +III. _Concrete Relational Concepts_ (still more abstract, yet not + entirely devoid of a measure of concreteness): normally expressed by + affixing non-radical elements to radical elements, but generally at + a greater remove from these than is the case with elements of type + II, or by inner modification of radical elements; differ + fundamentally from type II in indicating or implying relations that + transcend the particular word to which they are immediately + attached, thus leading over to + + IV. _Pure Relational Concepts_ (purely abstract): normally expressed by + affixing non-radical elements to radical elements (in which case + these concepts are frequently intertwined with those of type III) or + by their inner modification, by independent words, or by position; + serve to relate the concrete elements of the proposition to each + other, thus giving it definite syntactic form. + +[Footnote 64: Except, of course, the fundamental selection and contrast +necessarily implied in defining one concept as against another. "Man" +and "white" possess an inherent relation to "woman" and "black," but it +is a relation of conceptual content only and is of no direct interest to +grammar.] + +[Footnote 65: Thus, the _-er_ of _farmer_ may he defined as indicating +that particular substantive concept (object or thing) that serves as the +habitual subject of the particular verb to which it is affixed. This +relation of "subject" (_a farmer farms_) is inherent in and specific to +the word; it does not exist for the sentence as a whole. In the same way +the _-ling_ of _duckling_ defines a specific relation of attribution +that concerns only the radical element, not the sentence.] + +The nature of these four classes of concepts as regards their +concreteness or their power to express syntactic relations may be thus +symbolized: + _ + Material _/ I. Basic Concepts + Content \_ II. Derivational Concepts + _ + Relation _/ III. Concrete Relational Concepts + \_ IV. Pure Relational Concepts + +These schemes must not be worshipped as fetiches. In the actual work of +analysis difficult problems frequently arise and we may well be in doubt +as to how to group a given set of concepts. This is particularly apt to +be the case in exotic languages, where we may be quite sure of the +analysis of the words in a sentence and yet not succeed in acquiring +that inner "feel" of its structure that enables us to tell infallibly +what is "material content" and what is "relation." Concepts of class I +are essential to all speech, also concepts of class IV. Concepts II and +III are both common, but not essential; particularly group III, which +represents, in effect, a psychological and formal confusion of types II +and IV or of types I and IV, is an avoidable class of concepts. +Logically there is an impassable gulf between I and IV, but the +illogical, metaphorical genius of speech has wilfully spanned the gulf +and set up a continuous gamut of concepts and forms that leads +imperceptibly from the crudest of materialities ("house" or "John +Smith") to the most subtle of relations. It is particularly significant +that the unanalyzable independent word belongs in most cases to either +group I or group IV, rather less commonly to II or III. It is possible +for a concrete concept, represented by a simple word, to lose its +material significance entirely and pass over directly into the +relational sphere without at the same time losing its independence as a +word. This happens, for instance, in Chinese and Cambodgian when the +verb "give" is used in an abstract sense as a mere symbol of the +"indirect objective" relation (e.g., Cambodgian "We make story this give +all that person who have child," i.e., "We have made this story _for_ +all those that have children"). + +There are, of course, also not a few instances of transitions between +groups I and II and I and III, as well as of the less radical one +between II and III. To the first of these transitions belongs that whole +class of examples in which the independent word, after passing through +the preliminary stage of functioning as the secondary or qualifying +element in a compound, ends up by being a derivational affix pure and +simple, yet without losing the memory of its former independence. Such +an element and concept is the _full_ of _teaspoonfull_, which hovers +psychologically between the status of an independent, radical concept +(compare _full_) or of a subsidiary element in a compound (cf. +_brim-full_) and that of a simple suffix (cf. _dutiful_) in which the +primary concreteness is no longer felt. In general, the more highly +synthetic our linguistic type, the more difficult and even arbitrary it +becomes to distinguish groups I and II. + +Not only is there a gradual loss of the concrete as we pass through from +group I to group IV, there is also a constant fading away of the feeling +of sensible reality within the main groups of linguistic concepts +themselves. In many languages it becomes almost imperative, therefore, +to make various sub-classifications, to segregate, for instance, the +more concrete from the more abstract concepts of group II. Yet we must +always beware of reading into such abstracter groups that purely formal, +relational feeling that we can hardly help associating with certain of +the abstracter concepts which, with us, fall in group III, unless, +indeed, there is clear evidence to warrant such a reading in. An example +or two should make clear these all-important distinctions.[66] In Nootka +we have an unusually large number of derivational affixes (expressing +concepts of group II). Some of these are quite material in content +(e.g., "in the house," "to dream of"), others, like an element denoting +plurality and a diminutive affix, are far more abstract in content. The +former type are more closely welded with the radical element than the +latter, which can only be suffixed to formations that have the value of +complete words. If, therefore, I wish to say "the small fires in the +house"--and I can do this in one word--I must form the word +"fire-in-the-house," to which elements corresponding to "small," our +plural, and "the" are appended. The element indicating the definiteness +of reference that is implied in our "the" comes at the very end of the +word. So far, so good. "Fire-in-the-house-the" is an intelligible +correlate of our "the house-fire."[67] But is the Nootka correlate of +"the small fires in the house" the true equivalent of an English "_the +house-firelets_"?[68] By no means. First of all, the plural element +precedes the diminutive in Nootka: "fire-in-the-house-plural-small-the," +in other words "the house-fires-let," which at once reveals the +important fact that the plural concept is not as abstractly, as +relationally, felt as in English. A more adequate rendering would be +"the house-fire-several-let," in which, however, "several" is too gross +a word, "-let" too choice an element ("small" again is too gross). In +truth we cannot carry over into English the inherent feeling of the +Nootka word, which seems to hover somewhere between "the house-firelets" +and "the house-fire-several-small." But what more than anything else +cuts off all possibility of comparison between the English _-s_ of +"house-firelets" and the "-several-small" of the Nootka word is this, +that in Nootka neither the plural nor the diminutive affix corresponds +or refers to anything else in the sentence. In English "the +house-firelets burn" (not "burns"), in Nootka neither verb, nor +adjective, nor anything else in the proposition is in the least +concerned with the plurality or the diminutiveness of the fire. Hence, +while Nootka recognizes a cleavage between concrete and less concrete +concepts within group II, the less concrete do not transcend the group +and lead us into that abstracter air into which our plural _-s_ carries +us. But at any rate, the reader may object, it is something that the +Nootka plural affix is set apart from the concreter group of affixes; +and may not the Nootka diminutive have a slenderer, a more elusive +content than our _-let_ or _-ling_ or the German _-chen_ or _-lein?_[69] + +[Footnote 66: It is precisely the failure to feel the "value" or "tone," +as distinct from the outer significance, of the concept expressed by a +given grammatical element that has so often led students to +misunderstand the nature of languages profoundly alien to their own. Not +everything that calls itself "tense" or "mode" or "number" or "gender" +or "person" is genuinely comparable to what we mean by these terms in +Latin or French.] + +[Footnote 67: Suffixed articles occur also in Danish and Swedish and in +numerous other languages. The Nootka element for "in the house" differs +from our "house-" in that it is suffixed and cannot occur as an +independent word; nor is it related to the Nootka word for "house."] + +[Footnote 68: Assuming the existence of a word "firelet."] + +[Footnote 69: The Nootka diminutive is doubtless more of a +feeling-element, an element of nuance, than our _-ling_. This is shown +by the fact that it may be used with verbs as well as with nouns. In +speaking to a child, one is likely to add the diminutive to any word in +the sentence, regardless of whether there is an inherent diminutive +meaning in the word or not.] + +Can such a concept as that of plurality ever be classified with the more +material concepts of group II? Indeed it can be. In Yana the third +person of the verb makes no formal distinction between singular and +plural. Nevertheless the plural concept can be, and nearly always is, +expressed by the suffixing of an element (_-ba-_) to the radical element +of the verb. "It burns in the east" is rendered by the verb _ya-hau-si_ +"burn-east-s."[70] "They burn in the east" is _ya-ba-hau-si_. Note that +the plural affix immediately follows the radical element (_ya-_), +disconnecting it from the local element (_-hau-_). It needs no labored +argument to prove that the concept of plurality is here hardly less +concrete than that of location "in the east," and that the Yana form +corresponds in feeling not so much to our "They burn in the east" +(_ardunt oriente_) as to a "Burn-several-east-s, it plurally burns in +the east," an expression which we cannot adequately assimilate for lack +of the necessary form-grooves into which to run it. + +[Footnote 70: _-si_ is the third person of the present tense. _-hau-_ +"east" is an affix, not a compounded radical element.] + +But can we go a step farther and dispose of the category of plurality as +an utterly material idea, one that would make of "books" a "plural +book," in which the "plural," like the "white" of "white book," falls +contentedly into group I? Our "many books" and "several books" are +obviously not cases in point. Even if we could say "many book" and +"several book" (as we can say "many a book" and "each book"), the plural +concept would still not emerge as clearly as it should for our argument; +"many" and "several" are contaminated by certain notions of quantity or +scale that are not essential to the idea of plurality itself. We must +turn to central and eastern Asia for the type of expression we are +seeking. In Tibetan, for instance, _nga-s mi mthong_[71] "I-by man see, +by me a man is seen, I see a man" may just as well be understood to mean +"I see men," if there happens to be no reason to emphasize the fact of +plurality.[72] If the fact is worth expressing, however, I can say +_nga-s mi rnams mthong_ "by me man plural see," where _rnams_ is the +perfect conceptual analogue of _-s_ in _books_, divested of all +relational strings. _Rnams_ follows its noun as would any other +attributive word--"man plural" (whether two or a million) like "man +white." No need to bother about his plurality any more than about his +whiteness unless we insist on the point. + +[Footnote 71: These are classical, not modern colloquial, forms.] + +[Footnote 72: Just as in English "He has written books" makes no +commitment on the score of quantity ("a few, several, many").] + +What is true of the idea of plurality is naturally just as true of a +great many other concepts. They do not necessarily belong where we who +speak English are in the habit of putting them. They may be shifted +towards I or towards IV, the two poles of linguistic expression. Nor +dare we look down on the Nootka Indian and the Tibetan for their +material attitude towards a concept which to us is abstract and +relational, lest we invite the reproaches of the Frenchman who feels a +subtlety of relation in _femme blanche_ and _homme blanc_ that he misses +in the coarser-grained _white woman_ and _white man_. But the Bantu +Negro, were he a philosopher, might go further and find it strange that +we put in group II a category, the diminutive, which he strongly feels +to belong to group III and which he uses, along with a number of other +classificatory concepts,[73] to relate his subjects and objects, +attributes and predicates, as a Russian or a German handles his genders +and, if possible, with an even greater finesse. + +[Footnote 73: Such as person class, animal class, instrument class, +augmentative class.] + +It is because our conceptual scheme is a sliding scale rather than a +philosophical analysis of experience that we cannot say in advance just +where to put a given concept. We must dispense, in other words, with a +well-ordered classification of categories. What boots it to put tense +and mode here or number there when the next language one handles puts +tense a peg "lower down" (towards I), mode and number a peg "higher up" +(towards IV)? Nor is there much to be gained in a summary work of this +kind from a general inventory of the types of concepts generally found +in groups II, III, and IV. There are too many possibilities. It would be +interesting to show what are the most typical noun-forming and +verb-forming elements of group II; how variously nouns may be classified +(by gender; personal and non-personal; animate and inanimate; by form; +common and proper); how the concept of number is elaborated (singular +and plural; singular, dual, and plural; singular, dual, trial, and +plural; single, distributive, and collective); what tense distinctions +may be made in verb or noun (the "past," for instance, may be an +indefinite past, immediate, remote, mythical, completed, prior); how +delicately certain languages have developed the idea of "aspect"[74] +(momentaneous, durative, continuative, inceptive, cessative, +durative-inceptive, iterative, momentaneous-iterative, +durative-iterative, resultative, and still others); what modalities may +be recognized (indicative, imperative, potential, dubitative, optative, +negative, and a host of others[75]); what distinctions of person are +possible (is "we," for instance, conceived of as a plurality of "I" or +is it as distinct from "I" as either is from "you" or "he"?--both +attitudes are illustrated in language; moreover, does "we" include you +to whom I speak or not?--"inclusive" and "exclusive" forms); what may be +the general scheme of orientation, the so-called demonstrative +categories ("this" and "that" in an endless procession of nuances);[76] +how frequently the form expresses the source or nature of the speaker's +knowledge (known by actual experience, by hearsay,[77] by inference); +how the syntactic relations may be expressed in the noun (subjective and +objective; agentive, instrumental, and person affected;[78] various +types of "genitive" and indirect relations) and, correspondingly, in the +verb (active and passive; active and static; transitive and +intransitive; impersonal, reflexive, reciprocal, indefinite as to +object, and many other special limitations on the starting-point and +end-point of the flow of activity). These details, important as many of +them are to an understanding of the "inner form" of language, yield in +general significance to the more radical group-distinctions that we have +set up. It is enough for the general reader to feel that language +struggles towards two poles of linguistic expression--material content +and relation--and that these poles tend to be connected by a long series +of transitional concepts. + +[Footnote 74: A term borrowed from Slavic grammar. It indicates the +lapse of action, its nature from the standpoint of continuity. Our "cry" +is indefinite as to aspect, "be crying" is durative, "cry put" is +momentaneous, "burst into tears" is inceptive, "keep crying" is +continuative, "start in crying" is durative-inceptive, "cry now and +again" is iterative, "cry out every now and then" or "cry in fits and +starts" is momentaneous-iterative. "To put on a coat" is momentaneous, +"to wear a coat" is resultative. As our examples show, aspect is +expressed in English by all kinds of idiomatic turns rather than by a +consistently worked out set of grammatical forms. In many languages +aspect is of far greater formal significance than tense, with which the +naive student is apt to confuse it.] + +[Footnote 75: By "modalities" I do not mean the matter of fact +statement, say, of negation or uncertainty as such, rather their +implication in terms of form. There are languages, for instance, which +have as elaborate an apparatus of negative forms for the verb as Greek +has of the optative or wish-modality.] + +[Footnote 76: Compare page 97.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 76 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 2948.] + +[Footnote 77: It is because of this classification of experience that in +many languages the verb forms which are proper, say, to a mythical +narration differ from those commonly used in daily intercourse. We leave +these shades to the context or content ourselves with a more explicit +and roundabout mode of expression, e.g., "He is dead, as I happen to +know," "They say he is dead," "He must be dead by the looks of things."] + +[Footnote 78: We say "_I_ sleep" and "_I_ go," as well as "_I_ kill +him," but "he kills _me_." Yet _me_ of the last example is at least as +close psychologically to _I_ of "I sleep" as is the latter to _I_ of "I +kill him." It is only by form that we can classify the "I" notion of "I +sleep" as that of an acting subject. Properly speaking, I am handled by +forces beyond my control when I sleep just as truly as when some one is +killing me. Numerous languages differentiate clearly between active +subject and static subject (_I go_ and _I kill him_ as distinct from _I +sleep_, _I am good_, _I am killed_) or between transitive subject and +intransitive subject (_I kill him_ as distinct from _I sleep_, _I am +good_, _I am killed_, _I go_). The intransitive or static subjects may +or may not be identical with the object of the transitive verb.] + +In dealing with words and their varying forms we have had to anticipate +much that concerns the sentence as a whole. Every language has its +special method or methods of binding words into a larger unity. The +importance of these methods is apt to vary with the complexity of the +individual word. The more synthetic the language, in other words, the +more clearly the status of each word in the sentence is indicated by its +own resources, the less need is there for looking beyond the word to the +sentence as a whole. The Latin _agit_ "(he) acts" needs no outside help +to establish its place in a proposition. Whether I say _agit dominus_ +"the master acts" or _sic femina agit_ "thus the woman acts," the net +result as to the syntactic feel of the _agit_ is practically the same. +It can only be a verb, the predicate of a proposition, and it can only +be conceived as a statement of activity carried out by a person (or +thing) other than you or me. It is not so with such a word as the +English _act_. _Act_ is a syntactic waif until we have defined its +status in a proposition--one thing in "they act abominably," quite +another in "that was a kindly act." The Latin sentence speaks with the +assurance of its individual members, the English word needs the +prompting of its fellows. Roughly speaking, to be sure. And yet to say +that a sufficiently elaborate word-structure compensates for external +syntactic methods is perilously close to begging the question. The +elements of the word are related to each other in a specific way and +follow each other in a rigorously determined sequence. This is +tantamount to saying that a word which consists of more than a radical +element is a crystallization of a sentence or of some portion of a +sentence, that a form like _agit_ is roughly the psychological[79] +equivalent of a form like _age is_ "act he." Breaking down, then, the +wall that separates word and sentence, we may ask: What, at last +analysis, are the fundamental methods of relating word to word and +element to element, in short, of passing from the isolated notions +symbolized by each word and by each element to the unified proposition +that corresponds to a thought? + +[Footnote 79: Ultimately, also historical--say, _age to_ "act that +(one)."] + +The answer is simple and is implied in the preceding remarks. The most +fundamental and the most powerful of all relating methods is the method +of order. Let us think of some more or less concrete idea, say a color, +and set down its symbol--_red_; of another concrete idea, say a person +or object, setting down its symbol--_dog_; finally, of a third concrete +idea, say an action, setting down its symbol--_run_. It is hardly +possible to set down these three symbols--_red dog run_--without +relating them in some way, for example _(the) red dog run(s)_. I am far +from wishing to state that the proposition has always grown up in this +analytic manner, merely that the very process of juxtaposing concept to +concept, symbol to symbol, forces some kind of relational "feeling," if +nothing else, upon us. To certain syntactic adhesions we are very +sensitive, for example, to the attributive relation of quality (_red +dog_) or the subjective relation (_dog run_) or the objective relation +(_kill dog_), to others we are more indifferent, for example, to the +attributive relation of circumstance (_to-day red dog run_ or _red dog +to-day run_ or _red dog run to-day_, all of which are equivalent +propositions or propositions in embryo). Words and elements, then, once +they are listed in a certain order, tend not only to establish some kind +of relation among themselves but are attracted to each other in greater +or in less degree. It is presumably this very greater or less that +ultimately leads to those firmly solidified groups of elements (radical +element or elements plus one or more grammatical elements) that we have +studied as complex words. They are in all likelihood nothing but +sequences that have shrunk together and away from other sequences or +isolated elements in the flow of speech. While they are fully alive, in +other words, while they are functional at every point, they can keep +themselves at a psychological distance from their neighbors. As they +gradually lose much of their life, they fall back into the embrace of +the sentence as a whole and the sequence of independent words regains +the importance it had in part transferred to the crystallized groups of +elements. Speech is thus constantly tightening and loosening its +sequences. In its highly integrated forms (Latin, Eskimo) the "energy" +of sequence is largely locked up in complex word formations, it becomes +transformed into a kind of potential energy that may not be released for +millennia. In its more analytic forms (Chinese, English) this energy is +mobile, ready to hand for such service as we demand of it. + +There can be little doubt that stress has frequently played a +controlling influence in the formation of element-groups or complex +words out of certain sequences in the sentence. Such an English word as +_withstand_ is merely an old sequence _with stand_, i.e., "against[80] +stand," in which the unstressed adverb was permanently drawn to the +following verb and lost its independence as a significant element. In +the same way French futures of the type _irai_ "(I) shall go" are but +the resultants of a coalescence of originally independent words: _ir[81] +a'i_ "to-go I-have," under the influence of a unifying accent. But +stress has done more than articulate or unify sequences that in their +own right imply a syntactic relation. Stress is the most natural means +at our disposal to emphasize a linguistic contrast, to indicate the +major element in a sequence. Hence we need not be surprised to find that +accent too, no less than sequence, may serve as the unaided symbol of +certain relations. Such a contrast as that of _go' between_ ("one who +goes between") and _to go between'_ may be of quite secondary origin in +English, but there is every reason to believe that analogous +distinctions have prevailed at all times in linguistic history. A +sequence like _see' man_ might imply some type of relation in which +_see_ qualifies the following word, hence "a seeing man" or "a seen (or +visible) man," or is its predication, hence "the man sees" or "the man +is seen," while a sequence like _see man'_ might indicate that the +accented word in some way limits the application of the first, say as +direct object, hence "to see a man" or "(he) sees the man." Such +alternations of relation, as symbolized by varying stresses, are +important and frequent in a number of languages.[82] + +[Footnote 80: For _with_ in the sense of "against," compare German +_wider_ "against."] + +[Footnote 81: Cf. Latin _ire_ "to go"; also our English idiom "I have to +go," i.e., "must go."] + +[Footnote 82: In Chinese no less than in English.] + +It is a somewhat venturesome and yet not an altogether unreasonable +speculation that sees in word order and stress the primary methods for +the expression of all syntactic relations and looks upon the present +relational value of specific words and elements as but a secondary +condition due to a transfer of values. Thus, we may surmise that the +Latin _-m_ of words like _feminam_, _dominum_, and _civem_ did not +originally[83] denote that "woman," "master," and "citizen" were +objectively related to the verb of the proposition but indicated +something far more concrete,[84] that the objective relation was merely +implied by the position or accent of the word (radical element) +immediately preceding the _-m_, and that gradually, as its more concrete +significance faded away, it took over a syntactic function that did not +originally belong to it. This sort of evolution by transfer is traceable +in many instances. Thus, the _of_ in an English phrase like "the law of +the land" is now as colorless in content, as purely a relational +indicator as the "genitive" suffix _-is_ in the Latin _lex urbis_ "the +law of the city." We know, however, that it was originally an adverb of +considerable concreteness of meaning,[85] "away, moving from," and that +the syntactic relation was originally expressed by the case form[86] of +the second noun. As the case form lost its vitality, the adverb took +over its function. If we are actually justified in assuming that the +expression of all syntactic relations is ultimately traceable to these +two unavoidable, dynamic features of speech--sequence and stress[87]--an +interesting thesis results:--All of the actual content of speech, its +clusters of vocalic and consonantal sounds, is in origin limited to the +concrete; relations were originally not expressed in outward form but +were merely implied and articulated with the help of order and rhythm. +In other words, relations were intuitively felt and could only "leak +out" with the help of dynamic factors that themselves move on an +intuitional plane. + +[Footnote 83: By "originally" I mean, of course, some time antedating +the earliest period of the Indo-European languages that we can get at by +comparative evidence.] + +[Footnote 84: Perhaps it was a noun-classifying element of some sort.] + +[Footnote 85: Compare its close historical parallel _off_.] + +[Footnote 86: "Ablative" at last analysis.] + +[Footnote 87: Very likely pitch should be understood along with stress.] + +There is a special method for the expression of relations that has been +so often evolved in the history of language that we must glance at it +for a moment. This is the method of "concord" or of like signaling. It +is based on the same principle as the password or label. All persons or +objects that answer to the same counter-sign or that bear the same +imprint are thereby stamped as somehow related. It makes little +difference, once they are so stamped, where they are to be found or how +they behave themselves. They are known to belong together. We are +familiar with the principle of concord in Latin and Greek. Many of us +have been struck by such relentless rhymes as _vidi ilium bonum dominum_ +"I saw that good master" or _quarum dearum saevarum_ "of which stern +goddesses." Not that sound-echo, whether in the form of rhyme or of +alliteration[88] is necessary to concord, though in its most typical and +original forms concord is nearly always accompanied by sound repetition. +The essence of the principle is simply this, that words (elements) that +belong together, particularly if they are syntactic equivalents or are +related in like fashion to another word or element, are outwardly marked +by the same or functionally equivalent affixes. The application of the +principle varies considerably according to the genius of the particular +language. In Latin and Greek, for instance, there is concord between +noun and qualifying word (adjective or demonstrative) as regards gender, +number, and case, between verb and subject only as regards number, and +no concord between verb and object. + +[Footnote 88: As in Bantu or Chinook.] + +In Chinook there is a more far-reaching concord between noun, whether +subject or object, and verb. Every noun is classified according to five +categories--masculine, feminine, neuter,[89] dual, and plural. "Woman" +is feminine, "sand" is neuter, "table" is masculine. If, therefore, I +wish to say "The woman put the sand on the table," I must place in the +verb certain class or gender prefixes that accord with corresponding +noun prefixes. The sentence reads then, "The (fem.)-woman she (fem.)-it +(neut.)-it (masc.)-on-put the (neut.)-sand the (masc.)-table." If "sand" +is qualified as "much" and "table" as "large," these new ideas are +expressed as abstract nouns, each with its inherent class-prefix ("much" +is neuter or feminine, "large" is masculine) and with a possessive +prefix referring to the qualified noun. Adjective thus calls to noun, +noun to verb. "The woman put much sand on the large table," therefore, +takes the form: "The (fem.)-woman she (fem.)-it (neut.)-it +(masc.)-on-put the (fem.)-thereof (neut.)-quantity the (neut.)-sand the +(masc.)-thereof (masc.)-largeness the (masc.)-table." The classification +of "table" as masculine is thus three times insisted on--in the noun, in +the adjective, and in the verb. In the Bantu languages,[90] the +principle of concord works very much as in Chinook. In them also nouns +are classified into a number of categories and are brought into relation +with adjectives, demonstratives, relative pronouns, and verbs by means +of prefixed elements that call off the class and make up a complex +system of concordances. In such a sentence as "That fierce lion who came +here is dead," the class of "lion," which we may call the animal class, +would be referred to by concording prefixes no less than six +times,--with the demonstrative ("that"), the qualifying adjective, the +noun itself, the relative pronoun, the subjective prefix to the verb of +the relative clause, and the subjective prefix to the verb of the main +clause ("is dead"). We recognize in this insistence on external clarity +of reference the same spirit as moves in the more familiar _illum bonum +dominum_. + +[Footnote 89: Perhaps better "general." The Chinook "neuter" may refer +to persons as well as things and may also be used as a plural. +"Masculine" and "feminine," as in German and French, include a great +number of inanimate nouns.] + +[Footnote 90: Spoken in the greater part of the southern half of Africa. +Chinook is spoken in a number of dialects in the lower Columbia River +valley. It is impressive to observe how the human mind has arrived at +the same form of expression in two such historically unconnected +regions.] + +Psychologically the methods of sequence and accent lie at the opposite +pole to that of concord. Where they are all for implication, for +subtlety of feeling, concord is impatient of the least ambiguity but +must have its well-certificated tags at every turn. Concord tends to +dispense with order. In Latin and Chinook the independent words are free +in position, less so in Bantu. In both Chinook and Bantu, however, the +methods of concord and order are equally important for the +differentiation of subject and object, as the classifying verb prefixes +refer to subject, object, or indirect object according to the relative +position they occupy. These examples again bring home to us the +significant fact that at some point or other order asserts itself in +every language as the most fundamental of relating principles. + +The observant reader has probably been surprised that all this time we +have had so little to say of the time-honored "parts of speech." The +reason for this is not far to seek. Our conventional classification of +words into parts of speech is only a vague, wavering approximation to a +consistently worked out inventory of experience. We imagine, to begin +with, that all "verbs" are inherently concerned with action as such, +that a "noun" is the name of some definite object or personality that +can be pictured by the mind, that all qualities are necessarily +expressed by a definite group of words to which we may appropriately +apply the term "adjective." As soon as we test our vocabulary, we +discover that the parts of speech are far from corresponding to so +simple an analysis of reality. We say "it is red" and define "red" as a +quality-word or adjective. We should consider it strange to think of an +equivalent of "is red" in which the whole predication (adjective and +verb of being) is conceived of as a verb in precisely the same way in +which we think of "extends" or "lies" or "sleeps" as a verb. Yet as soon +as we give the "durative" notion of being red an inceptive or +transitional turn, we can avoid the parallel form "it becomes red, it +turns red" and say "it reddens." No one denies that "reddens" is as good +a verb as "sleeps" or even "walks." Yet "it is red" is related to "it +reddens" very much as is "he stands" to "he stands up" or "he rises." It +is merely a matter of English or of general Indo-European idiom that we +cannot say "it reds" in the sense of "it is red." There are hundreds of +languages that can. Indeed there are many that can express what we +should call an adjective only by making a participle out of a verb. +"Red" in such languages is merely a derivative "being red," as our +"sleeping" or "walking" are derivatives of primary verbs. + +Just as we can verbify the idea of a quality in such cases as "reddens," +so we can represent a quality or an action to ourselves as a thing. We +speak of "the height of a building" or "the fall of an apple" quite as +though these ideas were parallel to "the roof of a building" or "the +skin of an apple," forgetting that the nouns (_height_, _fall_) have not +ceased to indicate a quality and an act when we have made them speak +with the accent of mere objects. And just as there are languages that +make verbs of the great mass of adjectives, so there are others that +make nouns of them. In Chinook, as we have seen, "the big table" is +"the-table its-bigness"; in Tibetan the same idea may be expressed by +"the table of bigness," very much as we may say "a man of wealth" +instead of "a rich man." + +But are there not certain ideas that it is impossible to render except +by way of such and such parts of speech? What can be done with the "to" +of "he came to the house"? Well, we can say "he reached the house" and +dodge the preposition altogether, giving the verb a nuance that absorbs +the idea of local relation carried by the "to." But let us insist on +giving independence to this idea of local relation. Must we not then +hold to the preposition? No, we can make a noun of it. We can say +something like "he reached the proximity of the house" or "he reached +the house-locality." Instead of saying "he looked into the glass" we may +say "he scrutinized the glass-interior." Such expressions are stilted in +English because they do not easily fit into our formal grooves, but in +language after language we find that local relations are expressed in +just this way. The local relation is nominalized. And so we might go on +examining the various parts of speech and showing how they not merely +grade into each other but are to an astonishing degree actually +convertible into each other. The upshot of such an examination would be +to feel convinced that the "part of speech" reflects not so much our +intuitive analysis of reality as our ability to compose that reality +into a variety of formal patterns. A part of speech outside of the +limitations of syntactic form is but a will o' the wisp. For this reason +no logical scheme of the parts of speech--their number, nature, and +necessary confines--is of the slightest interest to the linguist. Each +language has its own scheme. Everything depends on the formal +demarcations which it recognizes. + +Yet we must not be too destructive. It is well to remember that speech +consists of a series of propositions. There must be something to talk +about and something must be said about this subject of discourse once it +is selected. This distinction is of such fundamental importance that the +vast majority of languages have emphasized it by creating some sort of +formal barrier between the two terms of the proposition. The subject of +discourse is a noun. As the most common subject of discourse is either a +person or a thing, the noun clusters about concrete concepts of that +order. As the thing predicated of a subject is generally an activity in +the widest sense of the word, a passage from one moment of existence to +another, the form which has been set aside for the business of +predicating, in other words, the verb, clusters about concepts of +activity. No language wholly fails to distinguish noun and verb, though +in particular cases the nature of the distinction may be an elusive one. +It is different with the other parts of speech. Not one of them is +imperatively required for the life of language.[91] + +[Footnote 91: In Yana the noun and the verb are well distinct, though +there are certain features that they hold in common which tend to draw +them nearer to each other than we feel to be possible. But there are, +strictly speaking, no other parts of speech. The adjective is a verb. So +are the numeral, the interrogative pronoun (e.g., "to be what?"), and +certain "conjunctions" and adverbs (e.g., "to be and" and "to be not"; +one says "and-past-I go," i.e., "and I went"). Adverbs and prepositions +are either nouns or merely derivative affixes in the verb.] + + + + +VI + +TYPES OF LINGUISTIC STRUCTURE + + +So far, in dealing with linguistic form, we have been concerned only +with single words and with the relations of words in sentences. We have +not envisaged whole languages as conforming to this or that general +type. Incidentally we have observed that one language runs to tight-knit +synthesis where another contents itself with a more analytic, piece-meal +handling of its elements, or that in one language syntactic relations +appear pure which in another are combined with certain other notions +that have something concrete about them, however abstract they may be +felt to be in practice. In this way we may have obtained some inkling of +what is meant when we speak of the general form of a language. For it +must be obvious to any one who has thought about the question at all or +who has felt something of the spirit of a foreign language that there is +such a thing as a basic plan, a certain cut, to each language. This type +or plan or structural "genius" of the language is something much more +fundamental, much more pervasive, than any single feature of it that we +can mention, nor can we gain an adequate idea of its nature by a mere +recital of the sundry facts that make up the grammar of the language. +When we pass from Latin to Russian, we feel that it is approximately the +same horizon that bounds our view, even though the near, familiar +landmarks have changed. When we come to English, we seem to notice that +the hills have dipped down a little, yet we recognize the general lay +of the land. And when we have arrived at Chinese, it is an utterly +different sky that is looking down upon us. We can translate these +metaphors and say that all languages differ from one another but that +certain ones differ far more than others. This is tantamount to saying +that it is possible to group them into morphological types. + +Strictly speaking, we know in advance that it is impossible to set up a +limited number of types that would do full justice to the peculiarities +of the thousands of languages and dialects spoken on the surface of the +earth. Like all human institutions, speech is too variable and too +elusive to be quite safely ticketed. Even if we operate with a minutely +subdivided scale of types, we may be quite certain that many of our +languages will need trimming before they fit. To get them into the +scheme at all it will be necessary to overestimate the significance of +this or that feature or to ignore, for the time being, certain +contradictions in their mechanism. Does the difficulty of classification +prove the uselessness of the task? I do not think so. It would be too +easy to relieve ourselves of the burden of constructive thinking and to +take the standpoint that each language has its unique history, therefore +its unique structure. Such a standpoint expresses only a half truth. +Just as similar social, economic, and religious institutions have grown +up in different parts of the world from distinct historical antecedents, +so also languages, traveling along different roads, have tended to +converge toward similar forms. Moreover, the historical study of +language has proven to us beyond all doubt that a language changes not +only gradually but consistently, that it moves unconsciously from one +type towards another, and that analogous trends are observable in +remote quarters of the globe. From this it follows that broadly similar +morphologies must have been reached by unrelated languages, +independently and frequently. In assuming the existence of comparable +types, therefore, we are not gainsaying the individuality of all +historical processes; we are merely affirming that back of the face of +history are powerful drifts that move language, like other social +products, to balanced patterns, in other words, to types. As linguists +we shall be content to realize that there are these types and that +certain processes in the life of language tend to modify them. Why +similar types should be formed, just what is the nature of the forces +that make them and dissolve them--these questions are more easily asked +than answered. Perhaps the psychologists of the future will be able to +give us the ultimate reasons for the formation of linguistic types. + +When it comes to the actual task of classification, we find that we have +no easy road to travel. Various classifications have been suggested, and +they all contain elements of value. Yet none proves satisfactory. They +do not so much enfold the known languages in their embrace as force them +down into narrow, straight-backed seats. The difficulties have been of +various kinds. First and foremost, it has been difficult to choose a +point of view. On what basis shall we classify? A language shows us so +many facets that we may well be puzzled. And is one point of view +sufficient? Secondly, it is dangerous to generalize from a small number +of selected languages. To take, as the sum total of our material, Latin, +Arabic, Turkish, Chinese, and perhaps Eskimo or Sioux as an +afterthought, is to court disaster. We have no right to assume that a +sprinkling of exotic types will do to supplement the few languages +nearer home that we are more immediately interested in. Thirdly, the +strong craving for a simple formula[92] has been the undoing of +linguists. There is something irresistible about a method of +classification that starts with two poles, exemplified, say, by Chinese +and Latin, clusters what it conveniently can about these poles, and +throws everything else into a "transitional type." Hence has arisen the +still popular classification of languages into an "isolating" group, an +"agglutinative" group, and an "inflective" group. Sometimes the +languages of the American Indians are made to straggle along as an +uncomfortable "polysynthetic" rear-guard to the agglutinative languages. +There is justification for the use of all of these terms, though not +perhaps in quite the spirit in which they are commonly employed. In any +case it is very difficult to assign all known languages to one or other +of these groups, the more so as they are not mutually exclusive. A +language may be both agglutinative and inflective, or inflective and +polysynthetic, or even polysynthetic and isolating, as we shall see a +little later on. + +[Footnote 92: If possible, a triune formula.] + +There is a fourth reason why the classification of languages has +generally proved a fruitless undertaking. It is probably the most +powerful deterrent of all to clear thinking. This is the evolutionary +prejudice which instilled itself into the social sciences towards the +middle of the last century and which is only now beginning to abate its +tyrannical hold on our mind. Intermingled with this scientific prejudice +and largely anticipating it was another, a more human one. The vast +majority of linguistic theorists themselves spoke languages of a certain +type, of which the most fully developed varieties were the Latin and +Greek that they had learned in their childhood. It was not difficult +for them to be persuaded that these familiar languages represented the +"highest" development that speech had yet attained and that all other +types were but steps on the way to this beloved "inflective" type. +Whatever conformed to the pattern of Sanskrit and Greek and Latin and +German was accepted as expressive of the "highest," whatever departed +from it was frowned upon as a shortcoming or was at best an interesting +aberration.[93] Now any classification that starts with preconceived +values or that works up to sentimental satisfactions is self-condemned +as unscientific. A linguist that insists on talking about the Latin type +of morphology as though it were necessarily the high-water mark of +linguistic development is like the zoölogist that sees in the organic +world a huge conspiracy to evolve the race-horse or the Jersey cow. +Language in its fundamental forms is the symbolic expression of human +intuitions. These may shape themselves in a hundred ways, regardless of +the material advancement or backwardness of the people that handle the +forms, of which, it need hardly be said, they are in the main +unconscious. If, therefore, we wish to understand language in its true +inwardness we must disabuse our minds of preferred "values"[94] and +accustom ourselves to look upon English and Hottentot with the same +cool, yet interested, detachment. + +[Footnote 93: One celebrated American writer on culture and language +delivered himself of the dictum that, estimable as the speakers of +agglutinative languages might be, it was nevertheless a crime for an +inflecting woman to marry an agglutinating man. Tremendous spiritual +values were evidently at stake. Champions of the "inflective" languages +are wont to glory in the very irrationalities of Latin and Greek, except +when it suits them to emphasize their profoundly "logical" character. +Yet the sober logic of Turkish or Chinese leaves them cold. The glorious +irrationalities and formal complexities of many "savage" languages they +have no stomach for. Sentimentalists are difficult people.] + +[Footnote 94: I have in mind valuations of form as such. Whether or not +a language has a large and useful vocabulary is another matter. The +actual size of a vocabulary at a given time is not a thing of real +interest to the linguist, as all languages have the resources at their +disposal for the creation of new words, should need for them arise. +Furthermore, we are not in the least concerned with whether or not a +language is of great practical value or is the medium of a great +culture. All these considerations, important from other standpoints, +have nothing to do with form value.] + +We come back to our first difficulty. What point of view shall we adopt +for our classification? After all that we have said about grammatical +form in the preceding chapter, it is clear that we cannot now make the +distinction between form languages and formless languages that used to +appeal to some of the older writers. Every language can and must express +the fundamental syntactic relations even though there is not a single +affix to be found in its vocabulary. We conclude that every language is +a form language. Aside from the expression of pure relation a language +may, of course, be "formless"--formless, that is, in the mechanical and +rather superficial sense that it is not encumbered by the use of +non-radical elements. The attempt has sometimes been made to formulate a +distinction on the basis of "inner form." Chinese, for instance, has no +formal elements pure and simple, no "outer form," but it evidences a +keen sense of relations, of the difference between subject and object, +attribute and predicate, and so on. In other words, it has an "inner +form" in the same sense in which Latin possesses it, though it is +outwardly "formless" where Latin is outwardly "formal." On the other +hand, there are supposed to be languages[95] which have no true grasp of +the fundamental relations but content themselves with the more or less +minute expression of material ideas, sometimes with an exuberant +display of "outer form," leaving the pure relations to be merely +inferred from the context. I am strongly inclined to believe that this +supposed "inner formlessness" of certain languages is an illusion. It +may well be that in these languages the relations are not expressed in +as immaterial a way as in Chinese or even as in Latin,[96] or that the +principle of order is subject to greater fluctuations than in Chinese, +or that a tendency to complex derivations relieves the language of the +necessity of expressing certain relations as explicitly as a more +analytic language would have them expressed.[97] All this does not mean +that the languages in question have not a true feeling for the +fundamental relations. We shall therefore not be able to use the notion +of "inner formlessness," except in the greatly modified sense that +syntactic relations may be fused with notions of another order. To this +criterion of classification we shall have to return a little later. + +[Footnote 95: E.g., Malay, Polynesian.] + +[Footnote 96: Where, as we have seen, the syntactic relations are by no +means free from an alloy of the concrete.] + +[Footnote 97: Very much as an English _cod-liver oil_ dodges to some +extent the task of explicitly defining the relations of the three nouns. +Contrast French _huile de foie de morue_ "oil of liver of cod."] + +More justifiable would be a classification according to the formal +processes[98] most typically developed in the language. Those languages +that always identify the word with the radical element would be set off +as an "isolating" group against such as either affix modifying elements +(affixing languages) or possess the power to change the significance of +the radical element by internal changes (reduplication; vocalic and +consonantal change; changes in quantity, stress, and pitch). The latter +type might be not inaptly termed "symbolic" languages.[99] The affixing +languages would naturally subdivide themselves into such as are +prevailingly prefixing, like Bantu or Tlingit, and such as are mainly or +entirely suffixing, like Eskimo or Algonkin or Latin. There are two +serious difficulties with this fourfold classification (isolating, +prefixing, suffixing, symbolic). In the first place, most languages fall +into more than one of these groups. The Semitic languages, for instance, +are prefixing, suffixing, and symbolic at one and the same time. In the +second place, the classification in its bare form is superficial. It +would throw together languages that differ utterly in spirit merely +because of a certain external formal resemblance. There is clearly a +world of difference between a prefixing language like Cambodgian, which +limits itself, so far as its prefixes (and infixes) are concerned, to +the expression of derivational concepts, and the Bantu languages, in +which the prefixed elements have a far-reaching significance as symbols +of syntactic relations. The classification has much greater value if it +is taken to refer to the expression of relational concepts[100] alone. +In this modified form we shall return to it as a subsidiary criterion. +We shall find that the terms "isolating," "affixing," and "symbolic" +have a real value. But instead of distinguishing between prefixing and +suffixing languages, we shall find that it is of superior interest to +make another distinction, one that is based on the relative firmness +with which the affixed elements are united with the core of the +word.[101] + +[Footnote 98: See Chapter IV.] + +[Footnote 99: There is probably a real psychological connection between +symbolism and such significant alternations as _drink_, _drank_, _drunk_ +or Chinese _mai_ (with rising tone) "to buy" and _mai_ (with falling +tone) "to sell." The unconscious tendency toward symbolism is justly +emphasized by recent psychological literature. Personally I feel that +the passage from _sing_ to _sang_ has very much the same feeling as the +alternation of symbolic colors--e.g., green for safe, red for danger. +But we probably differ greatly as to the intensity with which we feel +symbolism in linguistic changes of this type.] + +[Footnote 100: Pure or "concrete relational." See Chapter V.] + +[Footnote 101: In spite of my reluctance to emphasize the difference +between a prefixing and a suffixing language, I feel that there is more +involved in this difference than linguists have generally recognized. It +seems to me that there is a rather important psychological distinction +between a language that settles the formal status of a radical element +before announcing it--and this, in effect, is what such languages as +Tlingit and Chinook and Bantu are in the habit of doing--and one that +begins with the concrete nucleus of a word and defines the status of +this nucleus by successive limitations, each curtailing in some degree +the generality of all that precedes. The spirit of the former method has +something diagrammatic or architectural about it, the latter is a method +of pruning afterthoughts. In the more highly wrought prefixing languages +the word is apt to affect us as a crystallization of floating elements, +the words of the typical suffixing languages (Turkish, Eskimo, Nootka) +are "determinative" formations, each added element determining the form +of the whole anew. It is so difficult in practice to apply these +elusive, yet important, distinctions that an elementary study has no +recourse but to ignore them.] + +There is another very useful set of distinctions that can be made, but +these too must not be applied exclusively, or our classification will +again be superficial. I refer to the notions of "analytic," "synthetic," +and "polysynthetic." The terms explain themselves. An analytic language +is one that either does not combine concepts into single words at all +(Chinese) or does so economically (English, French). In an analytic +language the sentence is always of prime importance, the word is of +minor interest. In a synthetic language (Latin, Arabic, Finnish) the +concepts cluster more thickly, the words are more richly chambered, but +there is a tendency, on the whole, to keep the range of concrete +significance in the single word down to a moderate compass. A +polysynthetic language, as its name implies, is more than ordinarily +synthetic. The elaboration of the word is extreme. Concepts which we +should never dream of treating in a subordinate fashion are symbolized +by derivational affixes or "symbolic" changes in the radical element, +while the more abstract notions, including the syntactic relations, may +also be conveyed by the word. A polysynthetic language illustrates no +principles that are not already exemplified in the more familiar +synthetic languages. It is related to them very much as a synthetic +language is related to our own analytic English.[102] The three terms +are purely quantitative--and relative, that is, a language may be +"analytic" from one standpoint, "synthetic" from another. I believe the +terms are more useful in defining certain drifts than as absolute +counters. It is often illuminating to point out that a language has been +becoming more and more analytic in the course of its history or that it +shows signs of having crystallized from a simple analytic base into a +highly synthetic form.[103] + +[Footnote 102: English, however, is only analytic in tendency. +Relatively to French, it is still fairly synthetic, at least in certain +aspects.] + +[Footnote 103: The former process is demonstrable for English, French, +Danish, Tibetan, Chinese, and a host of other languages. The latter +tendency may be proven, I believe, for a number of American Indian +languages, e.g., Chinook, Navaho. Underneath their present moderately +polysynthetic form is discernible an analytic base that in the one case +may be roughly described as English-like, in the other, Tibetan-like.] + +We now come to the difference between an "inflective" and an +"agglutinative" language. As I have already remarked, the distinction is +a useful, even a necessary, one, but it has been generally obscured by a +number of irrelevancies and by the unavailing effort to make the terms +cover all languages that are not, like Chinese, of a definitely +isolating cast. The meaning that we had best assign to the term +"inflective" can be gained by considering very briefly what are some of +the basic features of Latin and Greek that have been looked upon as +peculiar to the inflective languages. First of all, they are synthetic +rather than analytic. This does not help us much. Relatively to many +another language that resembles them in broad structural respects, Latin +and Greek are not notably synthetic; on the other hand, their modern +descendants, Italian and Modern Greek, while far more analytic[104] than +they, have not departed so widely in structural outlines as to warrant +their being put in a distinct major group. An inflective language, we +must insist, may be analytic, synthetic, or polysynthetic. + +[Footnote 104: This applies more particularly to the Romance group: +Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Roumanian. Modern Greek is not so +clearly analytic.] + +Latin and Greek are mainly affixing in their method, with the emphasis +heavily on suffixing. The agglutinative languages are just as typically +affixing as they, some among them favoring prefixes, others running to +the use of suffixes. Affixing alone does not define inflection. Possibly +everything depends on just what kind of affixing we have to deal with. +If we compare our English words _farmer_ and _goodness_ with such words +as _height_ and _depth_, we cannot fail to be struck by a notable +difference in the affixing technique of the two sets. The _-er_ and +_-ness_ are affixed quite mechanically to radical elements which are at +the same time independent words (_farm_, _good_). They are in no sense +independently significant elements, but they convey their meaning +(agentive, abstract quality) with unfailing directness. Their use is +simple and regular and we should have no difficulty in appending them to +any verb or to any adjective, however recent in origin. From a verb _to +camouflage_ we may form the noun _camouflager_ "one who camouflages," +from an adjective _jazzy_ proceeds with perfect ease the noun +_jazziness_. It is different with _height_ and _depth_. Functionally +they are related to _high_ and _deep_ precisely as is _goodness_ to +_good_, but the degree of coalescence between radical element and affix +is greater. Radical element and affix, while measurably distinct, cannot +be torn apart quite so readily as could the _good_ and _-ness_ of +_goodness_. The _-t_ of _height_ is not the typical form of the affix +(compare _strength_, _length_, _filth_, _breadth_, _youth_), while +_dep-_ is not identical with _deep_. We may designate the two types of +affixing as "fusing" and "juxtaposing." The juxtaposing technique we may +call an "agglutinative" one, if we like. + +Is the fusing technique thereby set off as the essence of inflection? I +am afraid that we have not yet reached our goal. If our language were +crammed full of coalescences of the type of _depth_, but if, on the +other hand, it used the plural independently of verb concord (e.g., _the +books falls_ like _the book falls_, or _the book fall_ like _the books +fall_), the personal endings independently of tense (e.g., _the book +fells_ like _the book falls_, or _the book fall_ like _the book fell_), +and the pronouns independently of case (e.g., _I see he_ like _he sees +me_, or _him see the man_ like _the man sees him_), we should hesitate +to describe it as inflective. The mere fact of fusion does not seem to +satisfy us as a clear indication of the inflective process. There are, +indeed, a large number of languages that fuse radical element and affix +in as complete and intricate a fashion as one could hope to find +anywhere without thereby giving signs of that particular kind of +formalism that marks off such languages as Latin and Greek as +inflective. + +What is true of fusion is equally true of the "symbolic" processes.[105] +There are linguists that speak of alternations like _drink_ and _drank_ +as though they represented the high-water mark of inflection, a kind of +spiritualized essence of pure inflective form. In such Greek forms, +nevertheless, as _pepomph-a_ "I have sent," as contrasted with _pemp-o_ +"I send," with its trebly symbolic change of the radical element +(reduplicating _pe-_, change of _e_ to _o_, change of _p_ to _ph_), it +is rather the peculiar alternation of the first person singular _-a_ of +the perfect with the _-o_ of the present that gives them their +inflective cast. Nothing could be more erroneous than to imagine that +symbolic changes of the radical element, even for the expression of such +abstract concepts as those of number and tense, is always associated +with the syntactic peculiarities of an inflective language. If by an +"agglutinative" language we mean one that affixes according to the +juxtaposing technique, then we can only say that there are hundreds of +fusing and symbolic languages--non-agglutinative by definition--that +are, for all that, quite alien in spirit to the inflective type of Latin +and Greek. We can call such languages inflective, if we like, but we +must then be prepared to revise radically our notion of inflective form. + +[Footnote 105: See pages 133, 134.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 105 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 4081.] + +It is necessary to understand that fusion of the radical element and the +affix may be taken in a broader psychological sense than I have yet +indicated. If every noun plural in English were of the type of _book_: +_books_, if there were not such conflicting patterns as _deer_: _deer_, +_ox_: _oxen_, _goose_: _geese_ to complicate the general form picture of +plurality, there is little doubt that the fusion of the elements _book_ +and _-s_ into the unified word _books_ would be felt as a little less +complete than it actually is. One reasons, or feels, unconsciously about +the matter somewhat as follows:--If the form pattern represented by the +word _books_ is identical, as far as use is concerned, with that of the +word _oxen_, the pluralizing elements _-s_ and _-en_ cannot have quite +so definite, quite so autonomous, a value as we might at first be +inclined to suppose. They are plural elements only in so far as +plurality is predicated of certain selected concepts. The words _books_ +and _oxen_ are therefore a little other than mechanical combinations of +the symbol of a thing (_book_, _ox_) and a clear symbol of plurality. +There is a slight psychological uncertainty or haze about the juncture +in _book-s_ and _ox-en_. A little of the force of _-s_ and _-en_ is +anticipated by, or appropriated by, the words _book_ and _ox_ +themselves, just as the conceptual force of _-th_ in _dep-th_ is +appreciably weaker than that of _-ness_ in _good-ness_ in spite of the +functional parallelism between _depth_ and _goodness_. Where there is +uncertainty about the juncture, where the affixed element cannot rightly +claim to possess its full share of significance, the unity of the +complete word is more strongly emphasized. The mind must rest on +something. If it cannot linger on the constituent elements, it hastens +all the more eagerly to the acceptance of the word as a whole. A word +like _goodness_ illustrates "agglutination," _books_ "regular fusion," +_depth_ "irregular fusion," _geese_ "symbolic fusion" or +"symbolism."[106] + +[Footnote 106: The following formulae may prove useful to those that are +mathematically inclined. Agglutination: c = a + b; regular fusion: +c = a + (b - x) + x; irregular fusion: c = (a - x) + (b - y) + (x + y); +symbolism: c = (a - x) + x. I do not wish to imply that there is any +mystic value in the process of fusion. It is quite likely to have +developed as a purely mechanical product of phonetic forces that brought +about irregularities of various sorts.] + +The psychological distinctness of the affixed elements in an +agglutinative term may be even more marked than in the _-ness_ of +_goodness_. To be strictly accurate, the significance of the _-ness_ is +not quite as inherently determined, as autonomous, as it might be. It +is at the mercy of the preceding radical element to this extent, that it +requires to be preceded by a particular type of such element, an +adjective. Its own power is thus, in a manner, checked in advance. The +fusion here, however, is so vague and elementary, so much a matter of +course in the great majority of all cases of affixing, that it is +natural to overlook its reality and to emphasize rather the juxtaposing +or agglutinative nature of the affixing process. If the _-ness_ could be +affixed as an abstractive element to each and every type of radical +element, if we could say _fightness_ ("the act or quality of fighting") +or _waterness_ ("the quality or state of water") or _awayness_ ("the +state of being away") as we can say _goodness_ ("the state of being +good"), we should have moved appreciably nearer the agglutinative pole. +A language that runs to synthesis of this loose-jointed sort may be +looked upon as an example of the ideal agglutinative type, particularly +if the concepts expressed by the agglutinated elements are relational +or, at the least, belong to the abstracter class of derivational ideas. + +Instructive forms may be cited from Nootka. We shall return to our "fire +in the house."[107] The Nootka word _inikw-ihl_ "fire in the house" is +not as definitely formalized a word as its translation, suggests. The +radical element _inikw-_ "fire" is really as much of a verbal as of a +nominal term; it may be rendered now by "fire," now by "burn," according +to the syntactic exigencies of the sentence. The derivational element +_-ihl_ "in the house" does not mitigate this vagueness or generality; +_inikw-ihl_ is still "fire in the house" or "burn in the house." It may +be definitely nominalized or verbalized by the affixing of elements that +are exclusively nominal or verbal in force. For example, +_inikw-ihl-'i_, with its suffixed article, is a clear-cut nominal form: +"the burning in the house, the fire in the house"; _inikw-ihl-ma_, with +its indicative suffix, is just as clearly verbal: "it burns in the +house." How weak must be the degree of fusion between "fire in the +house" and the nominalizing or verbalizing suffix is apparent from the +fact that the formally indifferent _inikwihl_ is not an abstraction +gained by analysis but a full-fledged word, ready for use in the +sentence. The nominalizing _-'i_ and the indicative _-ma_ are not fused +form-affixes, they are simply additions of formal import. But we can +continue to hold the verbal or nominal nature of _inikwihl_ in abeyance +long before we reach the _-'i_ or _-ma_. We can pluralize it: +_inikw-ihl-'minih_; it is still either "fires in the house" or "burn +plurally in the house." We can diminutivize this plural: +_inikw-ihl-'minih-'is_, "little fires in the house" or "burn plurally +and slightly in the house." What if we add the preterit tense suffix +_-it_? Is not _inikw-ihl-'minih-'is-it_ necessarily a verb: "several +small fires were burning in the house"? It is not. It may still be +nominalized; _inikwihl'minih'isit-'i_ means "the former small fires in +the house, the little fires that were once burning in the house." It is +not an unambiguous verb until it is given a form that excludes every +other possibility, as in the indicative _inikwihl-minih'isit-a_ "several +small fires were burning in the house." We recognize at once that the +elements _-ihl_, _-'minih_, _-'is_, and _-it_, quite aside from the +relatively concrete or abstract nature of their content and aside, +further, from the degree of their outer (phonetic) cohesion with the +elements that precede them, have a psychological independence that our +own affixes never have. They are typically agglutinated elements, though +they have no greater external independence, are no more capable of +living apart from the radical element to which they are suffixed, than +the _-ness_ and _goodness_ or the _-s_ of _books_. It does not follow +that an agglutinative language may not make use of the principle of +fusion, both external and psychological, or even of symbolism to a +considerable extent. It is a question of tendency. Is the formative +slant clearly towards the agglutinative method? Then the language is +"agglutinative." As such, it may be prefixing or suffixing, analytic, +synthetic, or polysynthetic. + +[Footnote 107: See page 110.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 107 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 3331.] + +To return to inflection. An inflective language like Latin or Greek uses +the method of fusion, and this fusion has an inner psychological as well +as an outer phonetic meaning. But it is not enough that the fusion +operate merely in the sphere of derivational concepts (group II),[108] +it must involve the syntactic relations, which may either be expressed +in unalloyed form (group IV) or, as in Latin and Greek, as "concrete +relational concepts" (group III).[109] As far as Latin and Greek are +concerned, their inflection consists essentially of the fusing of +elements that express logically impure relational concepts with radical +elements and with elements expressing derivational concepts. Both fusion +as a general method and the expression of relational concepts in the +word are necessary to the notion of "inflection." + +[Footnote 108: See Chapter V.] + +[Footnote 109: If we deny the application of the term "inflective" to +fusing languages that express the syntactic relations in pure form, that +is, without the admixture of such concepts as number, gender, and tense, +merely because such admixture is familiar to us in Latin and Greek, we +make of "inflection" an even more arbitrary concept than it need be. At +the same time it is true that the method of fusion itself tends to break +down the wall between our conceptual groups II and IV, to create group +III. Yet the possibility of such "inflective" languages should not be +denied. In modern Tibetan, for instance, in which concepts of group II +are but weakly expressed, if at all, and in which the relational +concepts (e.g., the genitive, the agentive or instrumental) are +expressed without alloy of the material, we get many interesting +examples of fusion, even of symbolism. _Mi di_, e.g., "man this, the +man" is an absolutive form which may be used as the subject of an +intransitive verb. When the verb is transitive (really passive), the +(logical) subject has to take the agentive form. _Mi di_ then becomes +_mi di_ "by the man," the vowel of the demonstrative pronoun (or +article) being merely lengthened. (There is probably also a change in +the tone of the syllable.) This, of course, is of the very essence of +inflection. It is an amusing commentary on the insufficiency of our +current linguistic classification, which considers "inflective" and +"isolating" as worlds asunder, that modern Tibetan may be not inaptly +described as an isolating language, aside from such examples of fusion +and symbolism as the foregoing.] + +But to have thus defined inflection is to doubt the value of the term as +descriptive of a major class. Why emphasize both a technique and a +particular content at one and the same time? Surely we should be clear +in our minds as to whether we set more store by one or the other. +"Fusional" and "symbolic" contrast with "agglutinative," which is not on +a par with "inflective" at all. What are we to do with the fusional and +symbolic languages that do not express relational concepts in the word +but leave them to the sentence? And are we not to distinguish between +agglutinative languages that express these same concepts in the word--in +so far inflective-like--and those that do not? We dismissed the scale: +analytic, synthetic, polysynthetic, as too merely quantitative for our +purpose. Isolating, affixing, symbolic--this also seemed insufficient +for the reason that it laid too much stress on technical externals. +Isolating, agglutinative, fusional, and symbolic is a preferable scheme, +but still skirts the external. We shall do best, it seems to me, to hold +to "inflective" as a valuable suggestion for a broader and more +consistently developed scheme, as a hint for a classification based on +the nature of the concepts expressed by the language. The other two +classifications, the first based on degree of synthesis, the second on +degree of fusion, may be retained as intercrossing schemes that give us +the opportunity to subdivide our main conceptual types. + +It is well to recall that all languages must needs express radical +concepts (group I) and relational ideas (group IV). Of the two other +large groups of concepts--derivational (group II) and mixed relational +(group III)--both may be absent, both present, or only one present. This +gives us at once a simple, incisive, and absolutely inclusive method of +classifying all known languages. They are: + +A. Such as express only concepts of groups I and IV; in other words, +languages that keep the syntactic relations pure and that do not possess +the power to modify the significance of their radical elements by means +of affixes or internal changes.[110] We may call these _Pure-relational +non-deriving languages_ or, more tersely, _Simple Pure-relational +languages_. These are the languages that cut most to the bone of +linguistic expression. + +B. Such as express concepts of groups I, II, and IV; in other words, +languages that keep the syntactic relations pure and that also possess +the power to modify the significance of their radical elements by means +of affixes or internal changes. These are the _Pure-relational deriving +languages_ or _Complex Pure-relational languages_. + +C. Such as express concepts of groups I and III;[111] in other words, +languages in which the syntactic relations are expressed in necessary +connection with concepts that are not utterly devoid of concrete +significance but that do not, apart from such mixture, possess the power +to modify the significance of their radical elements by means of affixes +or internal changes.[112] These are the _Mixed-relational non-deriving +languages_ or _Simple Mixed-relational languages_. + +D. Such as express concepts of groups I, II, and III; in other words, +languages in which the syntactic relations are expressed in mixed form, +as in C, and that also possess the power to modify the significance of +their radical elements by means of affixes or internal changes. These +are the _Mixed-relational deriving languages_ or _Complex +Mixed-relational languages_. Here belong the "inflective" languages that +we are most familiar with as well as a great many "agglutinative" +languages, some "polysynthetic," others merely synthetic. + +[Footnote 110: I am eliminating entirely the possibility of compounding +two or more radical elements into single words or word-like phrases (see +pages 67-70). To expressly consider compounding in the present survey of +types would be to complicate our problem unduly. Most languages that +possess no derivational affixes of any sort may nevertheless freely +compound radical elements (independent words). Such compounds often have +a fixity that simulates the unity of single words.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 110 refers to the three paragraphs +beginning on line 2066.] + +[Footnote 111: We may assume that in these languages and in those of +type D all or most of the relational concepts are expressed in "mixed" +form, that such a concept as that of subjectivity, for instance, cannot +be expressed without simultaneously involving number or gender or that +an active verb form must be possessed of a definite tense. Hence group +III will be understood to include, or rather absorb, group IV. +Theoretically, of course, certain relational concepts may be expressed +pure, others mixed, but in practice it will not be found easy to make +the distinction.] + +[Footnote 112: The line between types C and D cannot be very sharply +drawn. It is a matter largely of degree. A language of markedly +mixed-relational type, but of little power of derivation pure and +simple, such as Bantu or French, may be conveniently put into type C, +even though it is not devoid of a number of derivational affixes. +Roughly speaking, languages of type C may be considered as highly +analytic ("purified") forms of type D.] + +This conceptual classification of languages, I must repeat, does not +attempt to take account of the technical externals of language. It +answers, in effect, two fundamental questions concerning the +translation of concepts into linguistic symbols. Does the language, in +the first place, keep its radical concepts pure or does it build up its +concrete ideas by an aggregation of inseparable elements (types A and C +_versus_ types B and D)? And, in the second place, does it keep the +basic relational concepts, such as are absolutely unavoidable in the +ordering of a proposition, free of an admixture of the concrete or not +(types A and B _versus_ types C and D)? The second question, it seems to +me, is the more fundamental of the two. We can therefore simplify our +classification and present it in the following form: + _ + I. Pure-relational _/ A. Simple + Languages \_ B. Complex + _ +II. Mixed-relational _/ C. Simple + Languages \_ D. Complex + +The classification is too sweeping and too broad for an easy, +descriptive survey of the many varieties of human speech. It needs to be +amplified. Each of the types A, B, C, D may be subdivided into an +agglutinative, a fusional, and a symbolic sub-type, according to the +prevailing method of modification of the radical element. In type A we +distinguish in addition an isolating sub-type, characterized by the +absence of all affixes and modifications of the radical element. In the +isolating languages the syntactic relations are expressed by the +position of the words in the sentence. This is also true of many +languages of type B, the terms "agglutinative," "fusional," and +"symbolic" applying in their case merely to the treatment of the +derivational, not the relational, concepts. Such languages could be +termed "agglutinative-isolating," "fusional-isolating" and +"symbolic-isolating." + +This brings up the important general consideration that the method of +handling one group of concepts need not in the least be identical with +that used for another. Compound terms could be used to indicate this +difference, if desired, the first element of the compound referring to +the treatment of the concepts of group II, the second to that of the +concepts of groups III and IV. An "agglutinative" language would +normally be taken to mean one that agglutinates all of its affixed +elements or that does so to a preponderating extent. In an +"agglutinative-fusional" language the derivational elements are +agglutinated, perhaps in the form of prefixes, while the relational +elements (pure or mixed) are fused with the radical element, possibly as +another set of prefixes following the first set or in the +form of suffixes or as part prefixes and part suffixes. By a +"fusional-agglutinative" language we would understand one that fuses its +derivational elements but allows a greater independence to those that +indicate relations. All these and similar distinctions are not merely +theoretical possibilities, they can be abundantly illustrated from the +descriptive facts of linguistic morphology. Further, should it prove +desirable to insist on the degree of elaboration of the word, the terms +"analytic," "synthetic," and "polysynthetic" can be added as descriptive +terms. It goes without saying that languages of type A are necessarily +analytic and that languages of type C also are prevailingly analytic and +are not likely to develop beyond the synthetic stage. + +But we must not make too much of terminology. Much depends on the +relative emphasis laid on this or that feature or point of view. The +method of classifying languages here developed has this great +advantage, that it can be refined or simplified according to the needs +of a particular discussion. The degree of synthesis may be entirely +ignored; "fusion" and "symbolism" may often be combined with advantage +under the head of "fusion"; even the difference between agglutination +and fusion may, if desired, be set aside as either too difficult to draw +or as irrelevant to the issue. Languages, after all, are exceedingly +complex historical structures. It is of less importance to put each +language in a neat pigeon-hole than to have evolved a flexible method +which enables us to place it, from two or three independent standpoints, +relatively to another language. All this is not to deny that certain +linguistic types are more stable and frequently represented than others +that are just as possible from a theoretical standpoint. But we are too +ill-informed as yet of the structural spirit of great numbers of +languages to have the right to frame a classification that is other than +flexible and experimental. + +The reader will gain a somewhat livelier idea of the possibilities of +linguistic morphology by glancing down the subjoined analytical table of +selected types. The columns II, III, IV refer to the groups of concepts +so numbered in the preceding chapter. The letters _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_ +refer respectively to the processes of isolation (position in the +sentence), agglutination, fusion, and symbolism. Where more than one +technique is employed, they are put in the order of their +importance.[113] + +[Footnote 113: In defining the type to which a language belongs one must +be careful not to be misled by structural features which are mere +survivals of an older stage, which have no productive life and do not +enter into the unconscious patterning of the language. All languages are +littered with such petrified bodies. The English _-ster_ of _spinster_ +and _Webster_ is an old agentive suffix, but, as far as the feeling of +the present English-speaking generation is concerned, it cannot be said +to really exist at all; _spinster_ and _Webster_ have been completely +disconnected from the etymological group of _spin_ and of _weave (web)_. +Similarly, there are hosts of related words in Chinese which differ in +the initial consonant, the vowel, the tone, or in the presence or +absence of a final consonant. Even where the Chinaman feels the +etymological relationship, as in certain cases he can hardly help doing, +he can assign no particular function to the phonetic variation as such. +Hence it forms no live feature of the language-mechanism and must be +ignored in defining the general form of the language. The caution is all +the more necessary, as it is precisely the foreigner, who approaches a +new language with a certain prying inquisitiveness, that is most apt to +see life in vestigial features which the native is either completely +unaware of or feels merely as dead form.] + +Note.--Parentheses indicate a weak development of the process in +question. + ++----------------+---+----+---+--------------+----------+--------------+ +|Fundamental Type"II |III |IV |Technique "Synthesis "Examples | ++----------------+---+----+---+--------------+----------+--------------+ +| A " | | | " " | +|(Simple Pure- "-- |-- |a |Isolating "Analytic "Chinese; | +| relational) " | | | " "Annamite | +| " | | | " " | +| "(d)|-- |a,b|Isolating "Analytic "Ewe | +| " | | |(weakly " "(Guinea Coast)| +| " | | |agglutinative)" " | +| " | | | " " | +| "(b)|-- |a, |Agglutinative "Analytic "Modern Tibetan| +| " | |b,c|(mildly " " | +| " | | |agglutinative-" " | +| " | | |fusional) " " | +| " | | | " " | +| B " | | | " " | +|(Complex Pure- "b, |-- |a |Agglutinative-"Analytic "Polynesian | +| relational) "(d)| | |isolating " " | +| " | | | " " | +| "b |-- |a, |Agglutinative-"Polysyn- "Haida | +| " | |(b)|isolating "thetic " | +| " | | | " " | +| "c |-- |a |Fusional- "Analytic "Cambodgian | +| " | | |isolating " " | +| " | | | " " | +| "b |-- |b |Agglutinative "Synthetic "Turkish | +| " | | | " " | +| "b,d|(b) |b |Agglutinative "Polysyn- "Yana (N. | +| " | | |(symbolic "thetic "California) | +| " | | |tinge) " " | +| " | | | " " | +| "c, |-- |a,b|Fusional- "Synthetic "Classical | +| "d, | | |agglutinative "(mildly) "Tibetan | +| "(b)| | |(symbolic " " | +| " | | |tinge) " " | +| " | | | " " | +| "b |-- |c |Agglutinative-"Synthetic "Sioux | +| " | | |fusional "(mildly " | +| " | | | "polysyn- " | +| " | | | "thetic) " | +| " | | | " " | +| "c |-- |c |Fusional "Synthetic "Salinan (S.W. | +| " | | | " "California) | +| " | | | " " | +| "d,c|(d) |d, |Symbolic "Analytic "Shilluk | +| " | |c,a| " "(Upper Nile) | +| " | | | " " | +| C " | | | " " | +|(Simple Mixed- "(b)|b |-- |Agglutinative "Synthetic "Bantu | +| relational) " | | | " " | +| "(c)|c, |a |Fusional "Analytic "French[114] | +| " |(d) | | "(mildly " | +| " | | | "synthetic)" | +| " | | | " " | +| D " | | | " " | +|(Complex Mixed- "b, |b |b |Agglutinative "Polysyn- "Nootka | +| relational) "c,d| | | "thetic "(Vancouver | +| " | | | "(symbolic "Island)[115] | +| " | | | "tinge) " | +| " | | | " " | +| "c, |b |-- |Fusional- "Polysyn- "Chinook (lower| +| "(d)| | |agglutinative "thetic "Columbia R.) | +| " | | | "(mildly) " | +| " | | | " " | +| "c, |c, |-- |Fusional "Polysyn- "Algonkin | +| "(d)|(d),| | "thetic " | +| " |(b) | | " " | +| " | | | " " | +| "c |c,d |a |Fusional "Analytic "English | +| " | | | " " | +| "c,d|c,d |-- |Fusional "Synthetic "Latin, Greek, | +| " | | |(symbolic " "Sanskrit | +| " | | |tinge) " " | +| " | | | " " | +| "c, |c,d |(a)|Fusional "Synthetic "Takelma | +| "b,d| | |(strongly " "(S.W. Oregon) | +| " | | |symbolic) " " | +| " | | | " " | +| "d,c|c,d |(a)|Symbolic- "Synthetic "Semitic | +| " | | |fusional " "(Arabic, | +| " | | | " "Hebrew) | ++----------------+---+----+---+--------------+----------+--------------+ + +[Footnote 114: Might nearly as well have come under D.] + +[Footnote 115: Very nearly complex pure-relational.] + +I need hardly point out that these examples are far from exhausting the +possibilities of linguistic structure. Nor that the fact that two +languages are similarly classified does not necessarily mean that they +present a great similarity on the surface. We are here concerned with +the most fundamental and generalized features of the spirit, the +technique, and the degree of elaboration of a given language. +Nevertheless, in numerous instances we may observe this highly +suggestive and remarkable fact, that languages that fall into the same +class have a way of paralleling each other in many details or in +structural features not envisaged by the scheme of classification. Thus, +a most interesting parallel could be drawn on structural lines between +Takelma and Greek,[116] languages that are as geographically remote from +each other and as unconnected in a historical sense as two languages +selected at random can well be. Their similarity goes beyond the +generalized facts registered in the table. It would almost seem that +linguistic features that are easily thinkable apart from each other, +that seem to have no necessary connection in theory, have nevertheless a +tendency to cluster or to follow together in the wake of some deep, +controlling impulse to form that dominates their drift. If, therefore, +we can only be sure of the intuitive similarity of two given languages, +of their possession of the same submerged form-feeling, we need not be +too much surprised to find that they seek and avoid certain linguistic +developments in common. We are at present very far from able to define +just what these fundamental form intuitions are. We can only feel them +rather vaguely at best and must content ourselves for the most part with +noting their symptoms. These symptoms are being garnered in our +descriptive and historical grammars of diverse languages. Some day, it +may be, we shall be able to read from them the great underlying +ground-plans. + +[Footnote 116: Not Greek specifically, of course, but as a typical +representative of Indo-European.] + +Such a purely technical classification of languages as the current one +into "isolating," "agglutinative," and "inflective" (read "fusional") +cannot claim to have great value as an entering wedge into the discovery +of the intuitional forms of language. I do not know whether the +suggested classification into four conceptual groups is likely to drive +deeper or not. My own feeling is that it does, but classifications, neat +constructions of the speculative mind, are slippery things. They have to +be tested at every possible opportunity before they have the right to +cry for acceptance. Meanwhile we may take some encouragement from the +application of a rather curious, yet simple, historical test. Languages +are in constant process of change, but it is only reasonable to suppose +that they tend to preserve longest what is most fundamental in their +structure. Now if we take great groups of genetically related +languages,[117] we find that as we pass from one to another or trace the +course of their development we frequently encounter a gradual change of +morphological type. This is not surprising, for there is no reason why a +language should remain permanently true to its original form. It is +interesting, however, to note that of the three intercrossing +classifications represented in our table (conceptual type, technique, +and degree of synthesis), it is the degree of synthesis that seems to +change most readily, that the technique is modifiable but far less +readily so, and that the conceptual type tends to persist the longest of +all. + +[Footnote 117: Such, in other words, as can be shown by documentary or +comparative evidence to have been derived from a common source. See +Chapter VII.] + +The illustrative material gathered in the table is far too scanty to +serve as a real basis of proof, but it is highly suggestive as far as it +goes. The only changes of conceptual type within groups of related +languages that are to be gleaned from the table are of B to A (Shilluk +as contrasted with Ewe;[118] Classical Tibetan as contrasted with Modern +Tibetan and Chinese) and of D to C (French as contrasted with +Latin[119]). But types A : B and C : D are respectively related to each +other as a simple and a complex form of a still more fundamental type +(pure-relational, mixed-relational). Of a passage from a pure-relational +to a mixed-relational type or _vice versa_ I can give no convincing +examples. + +[Footnote 118: These are far-eastern and far-western representatives of +the "Soudan" group recently proposed by D. Westermann. The genetic +relationship between Ewe and Shilluk is exceedingly remote at best.] + +[Footnote 119: This case is doubtful at that. I have put French in C +rather than in D with considerable misgivings. Everything depends on how +one evaluates elements like _-al_ in _national_, _-té_ in _bonté_, or +_re-_ in _retourner_. They are common enough, but are they as alive, as +little petrified or bookish, as our English _-ness_ and _-ful_ and +_un-_?] + +The table shows clearly enough how little relative permanence there is +in the technical features of language. That highly synthetic languages +(Latin; Sanskrit) have frequently broken down into analytic forms +(French; Bengali) or that agglutinative languages (Finnish) have in +many instances gradually taken on "inflective" features are well-known +facts, but the natural inference does not seem to have been often drawn +that possibly the contrast between synthetic and analytic or +agglutinative and "inflective" (fusional) is not so fundamental after +all. Turning to the Indo-Chinese languages, we find that Chinese is as +near to being a perfectly isolating language as any example we are +likely to find, while Classical Tibetan has not only fusional but strong +symbolic features (e.g., _g-tong-ba_ "to give," past _b-tang_, future +_gtang_, imperative _thong_); but both are pure-relational languages. +Ewe is either isolating or only barely agglutinative, while Shilluk, +though soberly analytic, is one of the most definitely symbolic +languages I know; both of these Soudanese languages are pure-relational. +The relationship between Polynesian and Cambodgian is remote, though +practically certain; while the latter has more markedly fusional +features than the former,[120] both conform to the complex +pure-relational type. Yana and Salinan are superficially very dissimilar +languages. Yana is highly polysynthetic and quite typically +agglutinative, Salinan is no more synthetic than and as irregularly and +compactly fusional ("inflective") as Latin; both are pure-relational, +Chinook and Takelma, remotely related languages of Oregon, have diverged +very far from each other, not only as regards technique and synthesis in +general but in almost all the details of their structure; both are +complex mixed-relational languages, though in very different ways. Facts +such as these seem to lend color to the suspicion that in the contrast +of pure-relational and mixed-relational (or concrete-relational) we are +confronted by something deeper, more far-reaching, than the contrast of +isolating, agglutinative, and fusional.[121] + +[Footnote 120: In spite of its more isolating cast.] + +[Footnote 121: In a book of this sort it is naturally impossible to give +an adequate idea of linguistic structure in its varying forms. Only a +few schematic indications are possible. A separate volume would be +needed to breathe life into the scheme. Such a volume would point out +the salient structural characteristics of a number of languages, so +selected as to give the reader an insight into the formal economy of +strikingly divergent types.] + + + + +VII + +LANGUAGE AS A HISTORICAL PRODUCT: DRIFT + + +Every one knows that language is variable. Two individuals of the same +generation and locality, speaking precisely the same dialect and moving +in the same social circles, are never absolutely at one in their speech +habits. A minute investigation of the speech of each individual would +reveal countless differences of detail--in choice of words, in sentence +structure, in the relative frequency with which particular forms or +combinations of words are used, in the pronunciation of particular +vowels and consonants and of combinations of vowels and consonants, in +all those features, such as speed, stress, and tone, that give life to +spoken language. In a sense they speak slightly divergent dialects of +the same language rather than identically the same language. + +There is an important difference, however, between individual and +dialectic variations. If we take two closely related dialects, say +English as spoken by the "middle classes" of London and English as +spoken by the average New Yorker, we observe that, however much the +individual speakers in each city differ from each other, the body of +Londoners forms a compact, relatively unified group in contrast to the +body of New Yorkers. The individual variations are swamped in or +absorbed by certain major agreements--say of pronunciation and +vocabulary--which stand out very strongly when the language of the +group as a whole is contrasted with that of the other group. This means +that there is something like an ideal linguistic entity dominating the +speech habits of the members of each group, that the sense of almost +unlimited freedom which each individual feels in the use of his language +is held in leash by a tacitly directing norm. One individual plays on +the norm in a way peculiar to himself, the next individual is nearer the +dead average in that particular respect in which the first speaker most +characteristically departs from it but in turn diverges from the average +in a way peculiar to himself, and so on. What keeps the individual's +variations from rising to dialectic importance is not merely the fact +that they are in any event of small moment--there are well-marked +dialectic variations that are of no greater magnitude than individual +variations within a dialect--it is chiefly that they are silently +"corrected" or canceled by the consensus of usage. If all the speakers +of a given dialect were arranged in order in accordance with the degree +of their conformity to average usage, there is little doubt that they +would constitute a very finely intergrading series clustered about a +well-defined center or norm. The differences between any two neighboring +speakers of the series[122] would be negligible for any but the most +microscopic linguistic research. The differences between the outer-most +members of the series are sure to be considerable, in all likelihood +considerable enough to measure up to a true dialectic variation. What +prevents us from saying that these untypical individuals speak distinct +dialects is that their peculiarities, as a unified whole, are not +referable to another norm than the norm of their own series. + +[Footnote 122: In so far as they do not fall out of the normal speech +group by reason of a marked speech defect or because they are isolated +foreigners that have acquired the language late in life.] + +If the speech of any member of the series could actually be made to fit +into another dialect series,[123] we should have no true barriers +between dialects (and languages) at all. We should merely have a +continuous series of individual variations extending over the whole +range of a historically unified linguistic area, and the cutting up of +this large area (in some cases embracing parts of several continents) +into distinct dialects and languages would be an essentially arbitrary +proceeding with no warrant save that of practical convenience. But such +a conception of the nature of dialectic variation does not correspond to +the facts as we know them. Isolated individuals may be found who speak a +compromise between two dialects of a language, and if their number and +importance increases they may even end by creating a new dialectic norm +of their own, a dialect in which the extreme peculiarities of the parent +dialects are ironed out. In course of time the compromise dialect may +absorb the parents, though more frequently these will tend to linger +indefinitely as marginal forms of the enlarged dialect area. But such +phenomena--and they are common enough in the history of language--are +evidently quite secondary. They are closely linked with such social +developments as the rise of nationality, the formation of literatures +that aim to have more than a local appeal, the movement of rural +populations into the cities, and all those other tendencies that break +up the intense localism that unsophisticated man has always found +natural. + +[Footnote 123: Observe that we are speaking of an individual's speech as +a whole. It is not a question of isolating some particular peculiarity +of pronunciation or usage and noting its resemblance to or identity with +a feature in another dialect.] + +The explanation of primary dialectic differences is still to seek. It +is evidently not enough to say that if a dialect or language is spoken +in two distinct localities or by two distinct social strata it naturally +takes on distinctive forms, which in time come to be divergent enough to +deserve the name of dialects. This is certainly true as far as it goes. +Dialects do belong, in the first instance, to very definitely +circumscribed social groups, homogeneous enough to secure the common +feeling and purpose needed to create a norm. But the embarrassing +question immediately arises, If all the individual variations within a +dialect are being constantly leveled out to the dialectic norm, if there +is no appreciable tendency for the individual's peculiarities to +initiate a dialectic schism, why should we have dialectic variations at +all? Ought not the norm, wherever and whenever threatened, automatically +to reassert itself? Ought not the individual variations of each +locality, even in the absence of intercourse between them, to cancel out +to the same accepted speech average? + +If individual variations "on a flat" were the only kind of variability +in language, I believe we should be at a loss to explain why and how +dialects arise, why it is that a linguistic prototype gradually breaks +up into a number of mutually unintelligible languages. But language is +not merely something that is spread out in space, as it were--a series +of reflections in individual minds of one and the same timeless picture. +Language moves down time in a current of its own making. It has a drift. +If there were no breaking up of a language into dialects, if each +language continued as a firm, self-contained unity, it would still be +constantly moving away from any assignable norm, developing new features +unceasingly and gradually transforming itself into a language so +different from its starting point as to be in effect a new language. Now +dialects arise not because of the mere fact of individual variation but +because two or more groups of individuals have become sufficiently +disconnected to drift apart, or independently, instead of together. So +long as they keep strictly together, no amount of individual variation +would lead to the formation of dialects. In practice, of course, no +language can be spread over a vast territory or even over a considerable +area without showing dialectic variations, for it is impossible to keep +a large population from segregating itself into local groups, the +language of each of which tends to drift independently. Under cultural +conditions such as apparently prevail to-day, conditions that fight +localism at every turn, the tendency to dialectic cleavage is being +constantly counteracted and in part "corrected" by the uniformizing +factors already referred to. Yet even in so young a country as America +the dialectic differences are not inconsiderable. + +Under primitive conditions the political groups are small, the tendency +to localism exceedingly strong. It is natural, therefore, that the +languages of primitive folk or of non-urban populations in general are +differentiated into a great number of dialects. There are parts of the +globe where almost every village has its own dialect. The life of the +geographically limited community is narrow and intense; its speech is +correspondingly peculiar to itself. It is exceedingly doubtful if a +language will ever be spoken over a wide area without multiplying itself +dialectically. No sooner are the old dialects ironed out by compromises +or ousted by the spread and influence of the one dialect which is +culturally predominant when a new crop of dialects arises to undo the +leveling work of the past. This is precisely what happened in Greece, +for instance. In classical antiquity there were spoken a large number of +local dialects, several of which are represented in the literature. As +the cultural supremacy of Athens grew, its dialect, the Attic, spread at +the expense of the rest, until, in the so-called Hellenistic period +following the Macedonian conquest, the Attic dialect, in the vulgarized +form known as the "Koine," became the standard speech of all Greece. But +this linguistic uniformity[124] did not long continue. During the two +millennia that separate the Greek of to-day from its classical prototype +the Koine gradually split up into a number of dialects. Now Greece is as +richly diversified in speech as in the time of Homer, though the present +local dialects, aside from those of Attica itself, are not the lineal +descendants of the old dialects of pre-Alexandrian days.[125] The +experience of Greece is not exceptional. Old dialects are being +continually wiped out only to make room for new ones. Languages can +change at so many points of phonetics, morphology, and vocabulary that +it is not surprising that once the linguistic community is broken it +should slip off in different directions. It would be too much to expect +a locally diversified language to develop along strictly parallel lines. +If once the speech of a locality has begun to drift on its own account, +it is practically certain to move further and further away from its +linguistic fellows. Failing the retarding effect of dialectic +interinfluences, which I have already touched upon, a group of dialects +is bound to diverge on the whole, each from all of the others. + +[Footnote 124: It is doubtful if we have the right to speak of +linguistic uniformity even during the predominance of the Koine. It is +hardly conceivable that when the various groups of non-Attic Greeks took +on the Koine they did not at once tinge it with dialectic peculiarities +induced by their previous speech habits.] + +[Footnote 125: The Zaconic dialect of Lacedaemon is the sole exception. +It is not derived from the Koine, but stems directly from the Doric +dialect of Sparta.] + +In course of time each dialect itself splits up into sub-dialects, which +gradually take on the dignity of dialects proper while the primary +dialects develop into mutually unintelligible languages. And so the +budding process continues, until the divergences become so great that +none but a linguistic student, armed with his documentary evidence and +with his comparative or reconstructive method, would infer that the +languages in question were genealogically related, represented +independent lines of development, in other words, from a remote and +common starting point. Yet it is as certain as any historical fact can +be that languages so little resembling each other as Modern Irish, +English, Italian, Greek, Russian, Armenian, Persian, and Bengali are but +end-points in the present of drifts that converge to a meeting-point in +the dim past. There is naturally no reason to believe that this earliest +"Indo-European" (or "Aryan") prototype which we can in part reconstruct, +in part but dimly guess at, is itself other than a single "dialect" of a +group that has either become largely extinct or is now further +represented by languages too divergent for us, with our limited means, +to recognize as clear kin.[126] + +[Footnote 126: Though indications are not lacking of what these remoter +kin of the Indo-European languages may be. This is disputed ground, +however, and hardly fit subject for a purely general study of speech.] + +All languages that are known to be genetically related, i.e., to be +divergent forms of a single prototype, may be considered as constituting +a "linguistic stock." There is nothing final about a linguistic stock. +When we set it up, we merely say, in effect, that thus far we can go +and no farther. At any point in the progress of our researches an +unexpected ray of light may reveal the "stock" as but a "dialect" of a +larger group. The terms dialect, language, branch, stock--it goes +without saying--are purely relative terms. They are convertible as our +perspective widens or contracts.[127] It would be vain to speculate as +to whether or not we shall ever be able to demonstrate that all +languages stem from a common source. Of late years linguists have been +able to make larger historical syntheses than were at one time deemed +feasible, just as students of culture have been able to show historical +connections between culture areas or institutions that were at one time +believed to be totally isolated from each other. The human world is +contracting not only prospectively but to the backward-probing eye of +culture-history. Nevertheless we are as yet far from able to reduce the +riot of spoken languages to a small number of "stocks." We must still +operate with a quite considerable number of these stocks. Some of them, +like Indo-European or Indo-Chinese, are spoken over tremendous reaches; +others, like Basque,[128] have a curiously restricted range and are in +all likelihood but dwindling remnants of groups that were at one time +more widely distributed. As for the single or multiple origin of speech, +it is likely enough that language as a human institution (or, if one +prefers, as a human "faculty") developed but once in the history of the +race, that all the complex history of language is a unique cultural +event. Such a theory constructed "on general principles" is of no real +interest, however, to linguistic science. What lies beyond the +demonstrable must be left to the philosopher or the romancer. + +[Footnote 127: "Dialect" in contrast to an accepted literary norm is a +use of the term that we are not considering.] + +[Footnote 128: Spoken in France and Spain in the region of the +Pyrenees.] + +We must return to the conception of "drift" in language. If the +historical changes that take place in a language, if the vast +accumulation of minute modifications which in time results in the +complete remodeling of the language, are not in essence identical with +the individual variations that we note on every hand about us, if these +variations are born only to die without a trace, while the equally +minute, or even minuter, changes that make up the drift are forever +imprinted on the history of the language, are we not imputing to this +history a certain mystical quality? Are we not giving language a power +to change of its own accord over and above the involuntary tendency of +individuals to vary the norm? And if this drift of language is not +merely the familiar set of individual variations seen in vertical +perspective, that is historically, instead of horizontally, that is in +daily experience, what is it? Language exists only in so far as it is +actually used--spoken and heard, written and read. What significant +changes take place in it must exist, to begin with, as individual +variations. This is perfectly true, and yet it by no means follows that +the general drift of language can be understood[129] from an exhaustive +descriptive study of these variations alone. They themselves are random +phenomena,[130] like the waves of the sea, moving backward and forward +in purposeless flux. The linguistic drift has direction. In other words, +only those individual variations embody it or carry it which move in a +certain direction, just as only certain wave movements in the bay +outline the tide. The drift of a language is constituted by the +unconscious selection on the part of its speakers of those individual +variations that are cumulative in some special direction. This direction +may be inferred, in the main, from the past history of the language. In +the long run any new feature of the drift becomes part and parcel of the +common, accepted speech, but for a long time it may exist as a mere +tendency in the speech of a few, perhaps of a despised few. As we look +about us and observe current usage, it is not likely to occur to us that +our language has a "slope," that the changes of the next few centuries +are in a sense prefigured in certain obscure tendencies of the present +and that these changes, when consummated, will be seen to be but +continuations of changes that have been already effected. We feel rather +that our language is practically a fixed system and that what slight +changes are destined to take place in it are as likely to move in one +direction as another. The feeling is fallacious. Our very uncertainty as +to the impending details of change makes the eventual consistency of +their direction all the more impressive. + +[Footnote 129: Or rather apprehended, for we do not, in sober fact, +entirely understand it as yet.] + +[Footnote 130: Not ultimately random, of course, only relatively so.] + +Sometimes we can feel where the drift is taking us even while we +struggle against it. Probably the majority of those who read these words +feel that it is quite "incorrect" to say "Who did you see?" We readers +of many books are still very careful to say "Whom did you see?" but we +feel a little uncomfortable (uncomfortably proud, it may be) in the +process. We are likely to avoid the locution altogether and to say "Who +was it you saw?" conserving literary tradition (the "whom") with the +dignity of silence.[131] The folk makes no apology. "Whom did you see?" +might do for an epitaph, but "Who did you see?" is the natural form for +an eager inquiry. It is of course the uncontrolled speech of the folk to +which we must look for advance information as to the general linguistic +movement. It is safe to prophesy that within a couple of hundred years +from to-day not even the most learned jurist will be saying "Whom did +you see?" By that time the "whom" will be as delightfully archaic as the +Elizabethan "his" for "its."[132] No logical or historical argument will +avail to save this hapless "whom." The demonstration "I: me = he: him = +who: whom" will be convincing in theory and will go unheeded in +practice. + +[Footnote 131: In relative clauses too we tend to avoid the objective +form of "who." Instead of "The man whom I saw" we are likely to say "The +man that I saw" or "The man I saw."] + +[Footnote 132: "Its" was at one time as impertinent a departure as the +"who" of "Who did you see?" It forced itself into English because the +old cleavage between masculine, feminine, and neuter was being slowly +and powerfully supplemented by a new one between thing-class and +animate-class. The latter classification proved too vital to allow usage +to couple males and things ("his") as against females ("her"). The form +"its" had to be created on the analogy of words like "man's," to satisfy +the growing form feeling. The drift was strong enough to sanction a +grammatical blunder.] + +Even now we may go so far as to say that the majority of us are secretly +wishing they could say "Who did you see?" It would be a weight off their +unconscious minds if some divine authority, overruling the lifted finger +of the pedagogue, gave them _carte blanche_. But we cannot too frankly +anticipate the drift and maintain caste. We must affect ignorance +of whither we are going and rest content with our mental +conflict--uncomfortable conscious acceptance of the "whom," unconscious +desire for the "who."[133] Meanwhile we indulge our sneaking desire for +the forbidden locution by the use of the "who" in certain twilight cases +in which we can cover up our fault by a bit of unconscious special +pleading. Imagine that some one drops the remark when you are not +listening attentively, "John Smith is coming to-night." You have not +caught the name and ask, not "Whom did you say?" but "Who did you say?" +There is likely to be a little hesitation in the choice of the form, but +the precedent of usages like "Whom did you see?" will probably not seem +quite strong enough to induce a "Whom did you say?" Not quite relevant +enough, the grammarian may remark, for a sentence like "Who did you +say?" is not strictly analogous to "Whom did you see?" or "Whom did you +mean?" It is rather an abbreviated form of some such sentence as "Who, +did you say, is coming to-night?" This is the special pleading that I +have referred to, and it has a certain logic on its side. Yet the case +is more hollow than the grammarian thinks it to be, for in reply to such +a query as "You're a good hand at bridge, John, aren't you?" John, a +little taken aback, might mutter "Did you say me?" hardly "Did you say +I?" Yet the logic for the latter ("Did you say I was a good hand at +bridge?") is evident. The real point is that there is not enough +vitality in the "whom" to carry it over such little difficulties +as a "me" can compass without a thought. The proportion +"I : me = he : him = who : whom" is logically and historically sound, but +psychologically shaky. "Whom did you see?" is correct, but there is +something false about its correctness. + +[Footnote 133: Psychoanalysts will recognize the mechanism. The +mechanisms of "repression of impulse" and of its symptomatic +symbolization can be illustrated in the most unexpected corners of +individual and group psychology. A more general psychology than Freud's +will eventually prove them to be as applicable to the groping for +abstract form, the logical or esthetic ordering of experience, as to the +life of the fundamental instincts.] + +It is worth looking into the reason for our curious reluctance to use +locutions involving the word "whom" particularly in its interrogative +sense. The only distinctively objective forms which we still possess in +English are _me_, _him_, _her_ (a little blurred because of its identity +with the possessive _her_), _us_, _them_, and _whom_. In all other cases +the objective has come to be identical with the subjective--that is, in +outer form, for we are not now taking account of position in the +sentence. We observe immediately in looking through the list of +objective forms that _whom_ is psychologically isolated. _Me_, _him_, +_her_, _us_, and _them_ form a solid, well-integrated group of objective +personal pronouns parallel to the subjective series _I_, _he_, _she_, +_we_, _they_. The forms _who_ and _whom_ are technically "pronouns" but +they are not felt to be in the same box as the personal pronouns. _Whom_ +has clearly a weak position, an exposed flank, for words of a feather +tend to flock together, and if one strays behind, it is likely to incur +danger of life. Now the other interrogative and relative pronouns +(_which_, _what_, _that_), with which _whom_ should properly flock, do +not distinguish the subjective and objective forms. It is +psychologically unsound to draw the line of form cleavage between _whom_ +and the personal pronouns on the one side, the remaining interrogative +and relative pronouns on the other. The form groups should be +symmetrically related to, if not identical with, the function groups. +Had _which_, _what_, and _that_ objective forms parallel to _whom_, the +position of this last would be more secure. As it is, there is something +unesthetic about the word. It suggests a form pattern which is not +filled out by its fellows. The only way to remedy the irregularity of +form distribution is to abandon the _whom_ altogether for we have lost +the power to create new objective forms and cannot remodel our +_which_-_what_-_that_ group so as to make it parallel with the smaller +group _who-whom_. Once this is done, _who_ joins its flock and our +unconscious desire for form symmetry is satisfied. We do not secretly +chafe at "Whom did you see?" without reason.[134] + +[Footnote 134: Note that it is different with _whose_. This has not the +support of analogous possessive forms in its own functional group, but +the analogical power of the great body of possessives of nouns (_man's_, +_boy's_) as well as of certain personal pronouns (_his_, _its_; as +predicated possessive also _hers_, _yours_, _theirs_) is sufficient to +give it vitality.] + +But the drift away from _whom_ has still other determinants. The words +_who_ and _whom_ in their interrogative sense are psychologically +related not merely to the pronouns _which_ and _what_, but to a group of +interrogative adverbs--_where_, _when_, _how_--all of which are +invariable and generally emphatic. I believe it is safe to infer that +there is a rather strong feeling in English that the interrogative +pronoun or adverb, typically an emphatic element in the sentence, should +be invariable. The inflective _-m_ of _whom_ is felt as a drag upon the +rhetorical effectiveness of the word. It needs to be eliminated if the +interrogative pronoun is to receive all its latent power. There is still +a third, and a very powerful, reason for the avoidance of _whom_. The +contrast between the subjective and objective series of personal +pronouns (_I_, _he_, _she_, _we_, _they_: _me_, _him_, _her_, _us_, +_them_) is in English associated with a difference of position. We say +_I see the man_ but _the man sees me_; _he told him_, never _him he +told_ or _him told he_. Such usages as the last two are distinctly +poetic and archaic; they are opposed to the present drift of the +language. Even in the interrogative one does not say _Him did you see?_ +It is only in sentences of the type _Whom did you see?_ that an +inflected objective before the verb is now used at all. On the other +hand, the order in _Whom did you see?_ is imperative because of its +interrogative form; the interrogative pronoun or adverb normally comes +first in the sentence (_What are you doing?_ _When did he go?_ _Where +are you from?_). In the "whom" of _Whom did you see?_ there is +concealed, therefore, a conflict between the order proper to a sentence +containing an inflected objective and the order natural to a sentence +with an interrogative pronoun or adverb. The solution _Did you see +whom?_ or _You saw whom?_[135] is too contrary to the idiomatic drift of +our language to receive acceptance. The more radical solution _Who did +you see?_ is the one the language is gradually making for. + +[Footnote 135: Aside from certain idiomatic usages, as when _You saw +whom?_ is equivalent to _You saw so and so and that so and so is who?_ +In such sentences _whom_ is pronounced high and lingeringly to emphasize +the fact that the person just referred to by the listener is not known +or recognized.] + +These three conflicts--on the score of form grouping, of rhetorical +emphasis, and of order--are supplemented by a fourth difficulty. The +emphatic _whom_, with its heavy build (half-long vowel followed by +labial consonant), should contrast with a lightly tripping syllable +immediately following. In _whom did_, however, we have an involuntary +retardation that makes the locution sound "clumsy." This clumsiness is a +phonetic verdict, quite apart from the dissatisfaction due to the +grammatical factors which we have analyzed. The same prosodic objection +does not apply to such parallel locutions as _what did_ and _when did_. +The vowels of _what_ and _when_ are shorter and their final consonants +melt easily into the following _d_, which is pronounced in the same +tongue position as _t_ and _n_. Our instinct for appropriate rhythms +makes it as difficult for us to feel content with _whom did_ as for a +poet to use words like _dreamed_ and _hummed_ in a rapid line. Neither +common feeling nor the poet's choice need be at all conscious. It may be +that not all are equally sensitive to the rhythmic flow of speech, but +it is probable that rhythm is an unconscious linguistic determinant even +with those who set little store by its artistic use. In any event the +poet's rhythms can only be a more sensitive and stylicized application +of rhythmic tendencies that are characteristic of the daily speech of +his people. + +We have discovered no less than four factors which enter into our subtle +disinclination to say "Whom did you see?" The uneducated folk that says +"Who did you see?" with no twinge of conscience has a more acute flair +for the genuine drift of the language than its students. Naturally the +four restraining factors do not operate independently. Their separate +energies, if we may make bold to use a mechanical concept, are +"canalized" into a single force. This force or minute embodiment of the +general drift of the language is psychologically registered as a slight +hesitation in using the word _whom_. The hesitation is likely to be +quite unconscious, though it may be readily acknowledged when attention +is called to it. The analysis is certain to be unconscious, or rather +unknown, to the normal speaker.[136] How, then, can we be certain in +such an analysis as we have undertaken that all of the assigned +determinants are really operative and not merely some one of them? +Certainly they are not equally powerful in all cases. Their values are +variable, rising and falling according to the individual and the +locution.[137] But that they really exist, each in its own right, may +sometimes be tested by the method of elimination. If one or other of the +factors is missing and we observe a slight diminution in the +corresponding psychological reaction ("hesitation" in our case), we may +conclude that the factor is in other uses genuinely positive. The second +of our four factors applies only to the interrogative use of _whom_, the +fourth factor applies with more force to the interrogative than to the +relative. We can therefore understand why a sentence like _Is he the man +whom you referred to?_ though not as idiomatic as _Is he the man (that) +you referred to?_ (remember that it sins against counts one and three), +is still not as difficult to reconcile with our innate feeling for +English expression as _Whom did you see?_ If we eliminate the fourth +factor from the interrogative usage,[138] say in _Whom are you looking +at?_ where the vowel following _whom_ relieves this word of its phonetic +weight, we can observe, if I am not mistaken, a lesser reluctance to use +the _whom_. _Who are you looking at?_ might even sound slightly +offensive to ears that welcome _Who did you see?_ + +[Footnote 136: Students of language cannot be entirely normal in their +attitude towards their own speech. Perhaps it would be better to say +"naïve" than "normal."] + +[Footnote 137: It is probably this _variability of value_ in the +significant compounds of a general linguistic drift that is responsible +for the rise of dialectic variations. Each dialect continues the general +drift of the common parent, but has not been able to hold fast to +constant values for each component of the drift. Deviations as to the +drift itself, at first slight, later cumulative, are therefore +unavoidable.] + +[Footnote 138: Most sentences beginning with interrogative _whom_ are +likely to be followed by _did_ or _does_, _do_. Yet not all.] + +We may set up a scale of "hesitation values" somewhat after this +fashion: + +Value 1: factors 1, 3. "The man whom I referred to." +Value 2: factors 1, 3, 4. "The man whom they referred to." +Value 3: factors 1, 2, 3. "Whom are you looking at?" +Value 4: factors 1, 2, 3, 4. "Whom did you see?" + +We may venture to surmise that while _whom_ will ultimately disappear +from English speech, locutions of the type _Whom did you see?_ will be +obsolete when phrases like _The man whom I referred to_ are still in +lingering use. It is impossible to be certain, however, for we can never +tell if we have isolated all the determinants of a drift. In our +particular case we have ignored what may well prove to be a controlling +factor in the history of _who_ and _whom_ in the relative sense. This is +the unconscious desire to leave these words to their interrogative +function and to concentrate on _that_ or mere word order as expressions +of the relative (e.g., _The man that I referred to_ or _The man I +referred to_). This drift, which does not directly concern the use of +_whom_ as such (merely of _whom_ as a form of _who_), may have made the +relative _who_ obsolete before the other factors affecting relative +_whom_ have run their course. A consideration like this is instructive +because it indicates that knowledge of the general drift of a language +is insufficient to enable us to see clearly what the drift is heading +for. We need to know something of the relative potencies and speeds of +the components of the drift. + +It is hardly necessary to say that the particular drifts involved in the +use of _whom_ are of interest to us not for their own sake but as +symptoms of larger tendencies at work in the language. At least three +drifts of major importance are discernible. Each of these has operated +for centuries, each is at work in other parts of our linguistic +mechanism, each is almost certain to continue for centuries, possibly +millennia. The first is the familiar tendency to level the distinction +between the subjective and the objective, itself but a late chapter in +the steady reduction of the old Indo-European system of syntactic cases. +This system, which is at present best preserved in Lithuanian,[139] was +already considerably reduced in the old Germanic language of which +English, Dutch, German, Danish, and Swedish are modern dialectic forms. +The seven Indo-European cases (nominative genitive, dative, accusative, +ablative, locative, instrumental) had been already reduced to four +(nominative genitive, dative, accusative). We know this from a careful +comparison of and reconstruction based on the oldest Germanic dialects +of which we still have records (Gothic, Old Icelandic, Old High German, +Anglo-Saxon). In the group of West Germanic dialects, for the study of +which Old High German, Anglo-Saxon, Old Frisian, and Old Saxon are our +oldest and most valuable sources, we still have these four cases, but +the phonetic form of the case syllables is already greatly reduced and +in certain paradigms particular cases have coalesced. The case system is +practically intact but it is evidently moving towards further +disintegration. Within the Anglo-Saxon and early Middle English period +there took place further changes in the same direction. The phonetic +form of the case syllables became still further reduced and the +distinction between the accusative and the dative finally disappeared. +The new "objective" is really an amalgam of old accusative and dative +forms; thus, _him_, the old dative (we still say _I give him the book_, +not "abbreviated" from _I give to him_; compare Gothic _imma_, modern +German _ihm_), took over the functions of the old accusative +(Anglo-Saxon _hine_; compare Gothic _ina_, Modern German _ihn_) and +dative. The distinction between the nominative and accusative was +nibbled away by phonetic processes and morphological levelings until +only certain pronouns retained distinctive subjective and objective +forms. + +[Footnote 139: Better, indeed, than in our oldest Latin and Greek +records. The old Indo-Iranian languages alone (Sanskrit, Avestan) show +an equally or more archaic status of the Indo-European parent tongue as +regards case forms.] + +In later medieval and in modern times there have been comparatively few +apparent changes in our case system apart from the gradual replacement +of _thou_--_thee_ (singular) and subjective _ye_--objective _you_ +(plural) by a single undifferentiated form _you_. All the while, +however, the case system, such as it is (subjective-objective, really +absolutive, and possessive in nouns; subjective, objective, and +possessive in certain pronouns) has been steadily weakening in +psychological respects. At present it is more seriously undermined than +most of us realize. The possessive has little vitality except in the +pronoun and in animate nouns. Theoretically we can still say _the moon's +phases_ or _a newspaper's vogue_; practically we limit ourselves pretty +much to analytic locutions like _the phases of the moon_ and _the vogue +of a newspaper_. The drift is clearly toward the limitation, of +possessive forms to animate nouns. All the possessive pronominal forms +except _its_ and, in part, _their_ and _theirs_, are also animate. It is +significant that _theirs_ is hardly ever used in reference to inanimate +nouns, that there is some reluctance to so use _their_, and that _its_ +also is beginning to give way to _of it_. _The appearance of it_ or _the +looks of it_ is more in the current of the language than _its +appearance_. It is curiously significant that _its young_ (referring to +an animal's cubs) is idiomatically preferable to _the young of it_. The +form is only ostensibly neuter, in feeling it is animate; +psychologically it belongs with _his children_, not with _the pieces of +it_. Can it be that so common a word as _its_ is actually beginning to +be difficult? Is it too doomed to disappear? It would be rash to say +that it shows signs of approaching obsolescence, but that it is steadily +weakening is fairly clear.[140] In any event, it is not too much to say +that there is a strong drift towards the restriction of the inflected +possessive forms to animate nouns and pronouns. + +[Footnote 140: Should _its_ eventually drop out, it will have had a +curious history. It will have played the rôle of a stop-gap between +_his_ in its non-personal use (see footnote 11, page 167) and the later +analytic of _it_.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 140 refers to Footnote 132, beginning on +line 5142.] + +How is it with the alternation of subjective and objective in the +pronoun? Granted that _whom_ is a weak sister, that the two cases have +been leveled in _you_ (in _it_, _that_, and _what_ they were never +distinct, so far as we can tell[141]), and that _her_ as an objective is +a trifle weak because of its formal identity with the possessive _her_, +is there any reason to doubt the vitality of such alternations as _I see +the man_ and _the man sees me_? Surely the distinction between +subjective _I_ and objective _me_, between subjective _he_ and objective +_him_, and correspondingly for other personal pronouns, belongs to the +very core of the language. We can throw _whom_ to the dogs, somehow make +shift to do without an _its_, but to level _I_ and _me_ to a single +case--would that not be to un-English our language beyond recognition? +There is no drift toward such horrors as _Me see him_ or _I see he_. +True, the phonetic disparity between _I_ and _me_, _he_ and _him_, _we_ +and _us_, has been too great for any serious possibility of form +leveling. It does not follow that the case distinction as such is still +vital. One of the most insidious peculiarities of a linguistic drift is +that where it cannot destroy what lies in its way it renders it +innocuous by washing the old significance out of it. It turns its very +enemies to its own uses. This brings us to the second of the major +drifts, the tendency to fixed position in the sentence, determined by +the syntactic relation of the word. + +[Footnote 141: Except in so far as _that_ has absorbed other +functions than such as originally belonged to it. It was only a +nominative-accusative neuter to begin with.] + +We need not go into the history of this all-important drift. It is +enough to know that as the inflected forms of English became scantier, +as the syntactic relations were more and more inadequately expressed by +the forms of the words themselves, position in the sentence gradually +took over functions originally foreign to it. _The man_ in _the man sees +the dog_ is subjective; in _the dog sees the man_, objective. Strictly +parallel to these sentences are _he sees the dog_ and _the dog sees +him_. Are the subjective value of _he_ and the objective value of _him_ +entirely, or even mainly, dependent on the difference of form? I doubt +it. We could hold to such a view if it were possible to say _the dog +sees he_ or _him sees the dog_. It was once possible to say such things, +but we have lost the power. In other words, at least part of the case +feeling in _he_ and _him_ is to be credited to their position before or +after the verb. May it not be, then, that _he_ and _him_, _we_ and _us_, +are not so much subjective and objective forms as pre-verbal and +post-verbal[142] forms, very much as _my_ and _mine_ are now pre-nominal +and post-nominal forms of the possessive (_my father_ but _father mine_; +_it is my book_ but _the book is mine_)? That this interpretation +corresponds to the actual drift of the English language is again +indicated by the language of the folk. The folk says _it is me_, not _it +is I_, which is "correct" but just as falsely so as the _whom did you +see_? that we have analyzed. _I'm the one_, _it's me_; _we're the ones_, +_it's us that will win out_--such are the live parallelisms in English +to-day. There is little doubt that _it is I_ will one day be as +impossible in English as _c'est je_, for _c'est moi_, is now in French. + +[Footnote 142: Aside from the interrogative: _am I?_ _is he?_ Emphasis +counts for something. There is a strong tendency for the old "objective" +forms to bear a stronger stress than the "subjective" forms. This is why +the stress in locutions like _He didn't go, did he?_ and _isn't he?_ is +thrown back on the verb; it is not a matter of logical emphasis.] + +How differently our _I_: _me_ feels than in Chaucer's day is shown by +the Chaucerian _it am I_. Here the distinctively subjective aspect of +the _I_ was enough to influence the form of the preceding verb in spite +of the introductory _it_; Chaucer's locution clearly felt more like a +Latin _sum ego_ than a modern _it is I_ or colloquial _it is me_. We +have a curious bit of further evidence to prove that the English +personal pronouns have lost some share of their original syntactic +force. Were _he_ and _she_ subjective forms pure and simple, were they +not striving, so to speak, to become caseless absolutives, like _man_ or +any other noun, we should not have been able to coin such compounds as +_he-goat_ and _she-goat_, words that are psychologically analogous to +_bull-moose_ and _mother-bear_. Again, in inquiring about a new-born +baby, we ask _Is it a he or a she?_ quite as though _he_ and _she_ were +the equivalents of _male_ and _female_ or _boy_ and _girl_. All in all, +we may conclude that our English case system is weaker than it looks and +that, in one way or another, it is destined to get itself reduced to an +absolutive (caseless) form for all nouns and pronouns but those that are +animate. Animate nouns and pronouns are sure to have distinctive +possessive forms for an indefinitely long period. + +Meanwhile observe that the old alignment of case forms is being invaded +by two new categories--a positional category (pre-verbal, post-verbal) +and a classificatory category (animate, inanimate). The facts that in +the possessive animate nouns and pronouns are destined to be more and +more sharply distinguished from inanimate nouns and pronouns (_the +man's_, but _of the house_; _his_, but _of it_) and that, on the whole, +it is only animate pronouns that distinguish pre-verbal and post-verbal +forms[143] are of the greatest theoretical interest. They show that, +however the language strive for a more and more analytic form, it is by +no means manifesting a drift toward the expression of "pure" relational +concepts in the Indo-Chinese manner.[144] The insistence on the +concreteness of the relational concepts is clearly stronger than the +destructive power of the most sweeping and persistent drifts that we +know of in the history and prehistory of our language. + +[Footnote 143: _They_: _them_ as an inanimate group may be looked upon +as a kind of borrowing from the animate, to which, in feeling, it more +properly belongs.] + +[Footnote 144: See page 155.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 144 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 4795.] + +The drift toward the abolition of most case distinctions and the +correlative drift toward position as an all-important grammatical method +are accompanied, in a sense dominated, by the last of the three major +drifts that I have referred to. This is the drift toward the invariable +word. In analyzing the "whom" sentence I pointed out that the rhetorical +emphasis natural to an interrogative pronoun lost something by its form +variability (_who_, _whose_, _whom_). This striving for a simple, +unnuanced correspondence between idea and word, as invariable as may be, +is very strong in English. It accounts for a number of tendencies which +at first sight seem unconnected. Certain well-established forms, like +the present third person singular _-s_ of _works_ or the plural _-s_ of +_books_, have resisted the drift to invariable words, possibly because +they symbolize certain stronger form cravings that we do not yet fully +understand. It is interesting to note that derivations that get away +sufficiently from the concrete notion of the radical word to exist as +independent conceptual centers are not affected by this elusive drift. +As soon as the derivation runs danger of being felt as a mere nuancing +of, a finicky play on, the primary concept, it tends to be absorbed by +the radical word, to disappear as such. English words crave spaces +between them, they do not like to huddle in clusters of slightly +divergent centers of meaning, each edging a little away from the rest. +_Goodness_, a noun of quality, almost a noun of relation, that takes its +cue from the concrete idea of "good" without necessarily predicating +that quality (e.g., _I do not think much of his goodness_) is +sufficiently spaced from _good_ itself not to need fear absorption. +Similarly, _unable_ can hold its own against _able_ because it destroys +the latter's sphere of influence; _unable_ is psychologically as +distinct from _able_ as is _blundering_ or _stupid_. It is different +with adverbs in _-ly_. These lean too heavily on their adjectives to +have the kind of vitality that English demands of its words. _Do it +quickly!_ drags psychologically. The nuance expressed by _quickly_ is +too close to that of _quick_, their circles of concreteness are too +nearly the same, for the two words to feel comfortable together. The +adverbs in _-ly_ are likely to go to the wall in the not too distant +future for this very reason and in face of their obvious usefulness. +Another instance of the sacrifice of highly useful forms to this +impatience of nuancing is the group _whence_, _whither_, _hence_, +_hither_, _thence_, _thither_. They could not persist in live usage +because they impinged too solidly upon the circles of meaning +represented by the words _where_, _here_ and _there_. In saying +_whither_ we feel too keenly that we repeat all of _where_. That we add +to _where_ an important nuance of direction irritates rather than +satisfies. We prefer to merge the static and the directive (_Where do +you live?_ like _Where are you going?_) or, if need be, to overdo a +little the concept of direction (_Where are you running to?_). + +Now it is highly symptomatic of the nature of the drift away from word +clusters that we do not object to nuances as such, we object to having +the nuances formally earmarked for us. As a matter of fact our +vocabulary is rich in near-synonyms and in groups of words that are +psychologically near relatives, but these near-synonyms and these groups +do not hang together by reason of etymology. We are satisfied with +_believe_ and _credible_ just because they keep aloof from each other. +_Good_ and _well_ go better together than _quick_ and _quickly_. The +English vocabulary is a rich medley because each English word wants its +own castle. Has English long been peculiarly receptive to foreign words +because it craves the staking out of as many word areas as possible, or, +conversely, has the mechanical imposition of a flood of French and Latin +loan-words, unrooted in our earlier tradition, so dulled our feeling for +the possibilities of our native resources that we are allowing these to +shrink by default? I suspect that both propositions are true. Each feeds +on the other. I do not think it likely, however, that the borrowings in +English have been as mechanical and external a process as they are +generally represented to have been. There was something about the +English drift as early as the period following the Norman Conquest that +welcomed the new words. They were a compensation for something that was +weakening within. + + + + +VIII + +LANGUAGE AS A HISTORICAL PRODUCT: PHONETIC LAW + + +I have preferred to take up in some detail the analysis of our +hesitation in using a locution like "Whom did you see?" and to point to +some of the English drifts, particular and general, that are implied by +this hesitation than to discuss linguistic change in the abstract. What +is true of the particular idiom that we started with is true of +everything else in language. Nothing is perfectly static. Every word, +every grammatical element, every locution, every sound and accent is a +slowly changing configuration, molded by the invisible and impersonal +drift that is the life of language. The evidence is overwhelming that +this drift has a certain consistent direction. Its speed varies +enormously according to circumstances that it is not always easy to +define. We have already seen that Lithuanian is to-day nearer its +Indo-European prototype than was the hypothetical Germanic mother-tongue +five hundred or a thousand years before Christ. German has moved more +slowly than English; in some respects it stands roughly midway between +English and Anglo-Saxon, in others it has of course diverged from the +Anglo-Saxon line. When I pointed out in the preceding chapter that +dialects formed because a language broken up into local segments could +not move along the same drift in all of these segments, I meant of +course that it could not move along identically the same drift. The +general drift of a language has its depths. At the surface the current +is relatively fast. In certain features dialects drift apart rapidly. By +that very fact these features betray themselves as less fundamental to +the genius of the language than the more slowly modifiable features in +which the dialects keep together long after they have grown to be +mutually alien forms of speech. But this is not all. The momentum of the +more fundamental, the pre-dialectic, drift is often such that languages +long disconnected will pass through the same or strikingly similar +phases. In many such cases it is perfectly clear that there could have +been no dialectic interinfluencing. + +These parallelisms in drift may operate in the phonetic as well as in +the morphological sphere, or they may affect both at the same time. Here +is an interesting example. The English type of plural represented by +_foot_: _feet_, _mouse_: _mice_ is strictly parallel to the German +_Fuss_: _Füsse_, _Maus_: _Mäuse_. One would be inclined to surmise that +these dialectic forms go back to old Germanic or West-Germanic +alternations of the same type. But the documentary evidence shows +conclusively that there could have been no plurals of this type in +primitive Germanic. There is no trace of such vocalic mutation +("umlaut") in Gothic, our most archaic Germanic language. More +significant still is the fact that it does not appear in our oldest Old +High German texts and begins to develop only at the very end of the Old +High German period (circa 1000 A.D.). In the Middle High German period +the mutation was carried through in all dialects. The typical Old High +German forms are singular _fuoss_, plural _fuossi_;[145] singular _mus_, +plural _musi_. The corresponding Middle High German forms are _fuoss_, +_füesse_; _mus_, _müse_. Modern German _Fuss_: _Füsse_, _Maus_: _Mäuse_ +are the regular developments of these medieval forms. Turning to +Anglo-Saxon, we find that our modern English forms correspond to _fot_, +_fet_; _mus_, _mys_.[146] These forms are already in use in the earliest +English monuments that we possess, dating from the eighth century, and +thus antedate the Middle High German forms by three hundred years or +more. In other words, on this particular point it took German at least +three hundred years to catch up with a phonetic-morphological drift[147] +that had long been under way in English. The mere fact that the affected +vowels of related words (Old High German _uo_, Anglo-Saxon _o_) are not +always the same shows that the affection took place at different periods +in German and English.[148] There was evidently some general tendency or +group of tendencies at work in early Germanic, long before English and +German had developed as such, that eventually drove both of these +dialects along closely parallel paths. + +[Footnote 145: I have changed the Old and Middle High German orthography +slightly in order to bring it into accord with modern usage. These +purely orthographical changes are immaterial. The _u_ of _mus_ is a long +vowel, very nearly like the _oo_ of English _moose_.] + +[Footnote 146: The vowels of these four words are long; _o_ as in +_rode_, _e_ like _a_ of _fade_, _u_ like _oo_ of _brood_, _y_ like +German _ü_.] + +[Footnote 147: Or rather stage in a drift.] + +[Footnote 148: Anglo-Saxon _fet_ is "unrounded" from an older _föt_, +which is phonetically related to _fot_ precisely as is _mys_ (i.e., +_müs_) to _mus_. Middle High German _ue_ (Modern German _u_) did not +develop from an "umlauted" prototype of Old High German _uo_ and +Anglo-Saxon _o_, but was based directly on the dialectic _uo_. The +unaffected prototype was long _o_. Had this been affected in the +earliest Germanic or West-Germanic period, we should have had a +pre-German alternation _fot_: _föti_; this older _ö_ could not well have +resulted in _ue_. Fortunately we do not need inferential evidence in +this case, yet inferential comparative methods, if handled with care, +may be exceedingly useful. They are indeed indispensable to the +historian of language.] + +How did such strikingly individual alternations as _fot_: _fet_, +_fuoss_: _füesse_ develop? We have now reached what is probably the +most central problem in linguistic history, gradual phonetic change. +"Phonetic laws" make up a large and fundamental share of the +subject-matter of linguistics. Their influence reaches far beyond the +proper sphere of phonetics and invades that of morphology, as we shall +see. A drift that begins as a slight phonetic readjustment or +unsettlement may in the course of millennia bring about the most +profound structural changes. The mere fact, for instance, that there is +a growing tendency to throw the stress automatically on the first +syllable of a word may eventually change the fundamental type of the +language, reducing its final syllables to zero and driving it to the use +of more and more analytical or symbolic[149] methods. The English +phonetic laws involved in the rise of the words _foot_, _feet_, _mouse_ +and _mice_ from their early West-Germanic prototypes _fot_, _foti_, +_mus_, _musi_[150] may be briefly summarized as follows: + +[Footnote 149: See page 133.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 149 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 4081.] + +[Footnote 150: Primitive Germanic _fot(s)_, _fotiz_, _mus_, _musiz_; +Indo-European _pods_, _podes_, _mus_, _muses_. The vowels of the first +syllables are all long.] + +1. In _foti_ "feet" the long _o_ was colored by the following _i_ to +long _ö_, that is, _o_ kept its lip-rounded quality and its middle +height of tongue position but anticipated the front tongue position of +the _i_; _ö_ is the resulting compromise. This assimilatory change was +regular, i.e., every accented long _o_ followed by an _i_ in the +following syllable automatically developed to long _ö_; hence _tothi_ +"teeth" became _töthi_, _fodian_ "to feed" became _födian_. At first +there is no doubt the alternation between _o_ and _ö_ was not felt as +intrinsically significant. It could only have been an unconscious +mechanical adjustment such as may be observed in the speech of many +to-day who modify the "oo" sound of words like _you_ and _few_ in the +direction of German _ü_ without, however, actually departing far enough +from the "oo" vowel to prevent their acceptance of _who_ and _you_ as +satisfactory rhyming words. Later on the quality of the _ö_ vowel must +have departed widely enough from that of _o_ to enable _ö_ to rise in +consciousness[151] as a neatly distinct vowel. As soon as this happened, +the expression of plurality in _föti_, _töthi_, and analogous words +became symbolic and fusional, not merely fusional. + +[Footnote 151: Or in that unconscious sound patterning which is ever on +the point of becoming conscious. See page 57.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 151 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 1797.] + +2. In _musi_ "mice" the long _u_ was colored by the following _i_ to +long _ü_. This change also was regular; _lusi_ "lice" became _lüsi_, +_kui_ "cows" became _küi_ (later simplified to _kü_; still preserved as +_ki-_ in _kine_), _fulian_ "to make foul" became _fülian_ (still +preserved as _-file_ in _defile_). The psychology of this phonetic law +is entirely analogous to that of 1. + +3. The old drift toward reducing final syllables, a rhythmic consequence +of the strong Germanic stress on the first syllable, now manifested +itself. The final _-i_, originally an important functional element, had +long lost a great share of its value, transferred as that was to the +symbolic vowel change (_o_: _ö_). It had little power of resistance, +therefore, to the drift. It became dulled to a colorless _-e_; _föti_ +became _föte_. + +4. The weak _-e_ finally disappeared. Probably the forms _föte_ and +_föt_ long coexisted as prosodic variants according to the rhythmic +requirements of the sentence, very much as _Füsse_ and _Füss'_ now +coexist in German. + +5. The _ö_ of _föt_ became "unrounded" to long _e_ (our present _a_ of +_fade_). The alternation of _fot_: _foti_, transitionally _fot_: _föti_, +_föte_, _föt_, now appears as _fot_: _fet_. Analogously, _töth_ appears +as _teth_, _födian_ as _fedian_, later _fedan_. The new long _e_-vowel +"fell together" with the older _e_-vowel already existent (e.g., _her_ +"here," _he_ "he"). Henceforward the two are merged and their later +history is in common. Thus our present _he_ has the same vowel as +_feet_, _teeth_, and _feed_. In other words, the old sound pattern _o_, +_e_, after an interim of _o_, _ö_, _e_, reappeared as _o_, _e_, except +that now the _e_ had greater "weight" than before. + +6. _Fot_: _fet_, _mus_: _müs_ (written _mys_) are the typical forms of +Anglo-Saxon literature. At the very end of the Anglo-Saxon period, say +about 1050 to 1100 A.D., the _ü_, whether long or short, became +unrounded to _i_. _Mys_ was then pronounced _mis_ with long _i_ (rhyming +with present _niece_). The change is analogous to 5, but takes place +several centuries later. + +7. In Chaucer's day (circa 1350-1400 A.D.) the forms were still +_fot_: _fet_ (written _foot_, _feet_) and _mus_: _mis_ (written very +variably, but _mous_, _myse_ are typical). About 1500 all the long +_i_-vowels, whether original (as in _write_, _ride_, _wine_) or +unrounded from Anglo-Saxon _ü_ (as in _hide_, _bride_, _mice_, +_defile_), became diphthongized to _ei_ (i.e., _e_ of _met_ + short +_i_). Shakespeare pronounced _mice_ as _meis_ (almost the same as the +present Cockney pronunciation of _mace_). + +8. About the same time the long _u_-vowels were diphthongized to _ou_ +(i.e., _o_ of present Scotch _not_ + _u_ of _full_). The Chaucerian +_mus_: _mis_ now appears as the Shakespearean _mous_: _meis_. This +change may have manifested itself somewhat later than 7; all English +dialects have diphthongized old Germanic long _i_,[152] but the long +undiphthongized _u_ is still preserved in Lowland Scotch, in which +_house_ and _mouse_ rhyme with our _loose_. 7 and 8 are analogous +developments, as were 5 and 6; 8 apparently lags behind 7 as 6, +centuries earlier, lagged behind 7. + +[Footnote 152: As have most Dutch and German dialects.] + +9. Some time before 1550 the long _e_ of _fet_ (written _feet_) took the +position that had been vacated by the old long _i_, now diphthongized +(see 7), i.e., _e_ took the higher tongue position of _i_. Our (and +Shakespeare's) "long _e_" is, then, phonetically the same as the old +long _i_. _Feet_ now rhymed with the old _write_ and the present _beat_. + +10. About the same time the long _o_ of _fot_ (written _foot_) took the +position that had been vacated by the old long _u_, now diphthongized +(see 8), i.e., _o_ took the higher tongue position of _u_. Our (and +Shakespeare's) "long _oo_" is phonetically the same as the old long _u_. +_Foot_ now rhymed with the old _out_ and the present _boot_. To +summarize 7 to 10, Shakespeare pronounced _meis_, _mous_, _fit_, _fut_, +of which _meis_ and _mous_ would affect our ears as a rather "mincing" +rendering of our present _mice_ and _mouse_, _fit_ would sound +practically identical with (but probably a bit more "drawled" than) our +present _feet_, while _foot_, rhyming with _boot_, would now be set down +as "broad Scotch." + +11. Gradually the first vowel of the diphthong in _mice_ (see 7) was +retracted and lowered in position. The resulting diphthong now varies in +different English dialects, but _ai_ (i.e., _a_ of _father_, but +shorter, + short _i_) may be taken as a fairly accurate rendering of its +average quality.[153] What we now call the "long _i_" (of words like +_ride, bite, mice_) is, of course, an _ai_-diphthong. _Mice_ is now +pronounced _mais_. + +[Footnote 153: At least in America.] + +12. Analogously to 11, the first vowel of the diphthong in _mouse_ (see +8) was unrounded and lowered in position. The resulting diphthong may be +phonetically rendered _au_, though it too varies considerably according +to dialect. _Mouse_, then, is now pronounced _maus_. + +13. The vowel of _foot_ (see 10) became "open" in quality and shorter in +quantity, i.e., it fell together with the old short _u_-vowel of words +like _full_, _wolf_, _wool_. This change has taken place in a number of +words with an originally long _u_ (Chaucerian long close _o_), such as +_forsook_, _hook_, _book_, _look_, _rook_, _shook_, all of which +formerly had the vowel of _boot_. The older vowel, however, is still +preserved in most words of this class, such as _fool_, _moon_, _spool_, +_stoop_. It is highly significant of the nature of the slow spread of a +"phonetic law" that there is local vacillation at present in several +words. One hears _roof_, _soot_, and _hoop_, for instance, both with the +"long" vowel of _boot_ and the "short" of _foot_. It is impossible now, +in other words, to state in a definitive manner what is the "phonetic +law" that regulated the change of the older _foot_ (rhyming with _boot_) +to the present _foot_. We know that there is a strong drift towards the +short, open vowel of _foot_, but whether or not all the old "long _oo_" +words will eventually be affected we cannot presume to say. If they all, +or practically all, are taken by the drift, phonetic law 13 will be as +"regular," as sweeping, as most of the twelve that have preceded it. If +not, it may eventually be possible, if past experience is a safe guide, +to show that the modified words form a natural phonetic group, that is, +that the "law" will have operated under certain definable limiting +conditions, e.g., that all words ending in a voiceless consonant (such +as _p_, _t_, _k_, _f_) were affected (e.g., _hoof_, _foot_, _look_, +_roof_), but that all words ending in the _oo_-vowel or in a voiced +consonant remained unaffected (e.g., _do_, _food_, _move_, _fool_). +Whatever the upshot, we may be reasonably certain that when the +"phonetic law" has run its course, the distribution of "long" and +"short" vowels in the old _oo_-words will not seem quite as erratic as +at the present transitional moment.[154] We learn, incidentally, the +fundamental fact that phonetic laws do not work with spontaneous +automatism, that they are simply a formula for a consummated drift that +sets in at a psychologically exposed point and gradually worms its way +through a gamut of phonetically analogous forms. + +[Footnote 154: It is possible that other than purely phonetic factors +are also at work in the history of these vowels.] + +It will be instructive to set down a table of form sequences, a kind of +gross history of the words _foot_, _feet_, _mouse_, _mice_ for the last +1500 years:[155] + +[Footnote 155: The orthography is roughly phonetic. Pronounce all +accented vowels long except where otherwise indicated, unaccented vowels +short; give continental values to vowels, not present English ones.] + + I. _fot_: _foti_; _mus_: _musi_ (West Germanic) + II. _fot_: _föti_; _mus_: _müsi_ + III. _fot_: _föte_; _mus_: _müse_ + IV. _fot_: _föt_; _mus_: _müs_ + V. _fot_: _fet_; _mus_: _müs_ (Anglo-Saxon) + VI. _fot_: _fet_; _mus_: _mis_(Chaucer) + VII. _fot_: _fet_; _mous_: _meis_ +VIII. _fut_ (rhymes with _boot_): _fit_; _mous_: _meis_ (Shakespeare) + IX. _fut_: _fit_; _maus_: _mais_ + X. _fut_ (rhymes with _put_): _fit_; _maus_: _mais_ (English of 1900) + +It will not be necessary to list the phonetic laws that +gradually differentiated the modern German equivalents +of the original West Germanic forms from their +English cognates. The following table gives a rough +idea of the form sequences in German:[156] + +[Footnote 156: After I. the numbers are not meant to correspond +chronologically to those of the English table. The orthography is again +roughly phonetic.] + + I. _fot_: _foti_; _mus_: _musi_ (West Germanic) + II. _foss_:[157] _fossi_; _mus_: _musi_ + III. _fuoss_: _fuossi_; _mus_: _musi_ (Old High German) + IV. _fuoss_: _füessi_; _mus_: _müsi_ + V. _fuoss_: _füesse_; _mus_: _müse_ (Middle High German) + VI. _fuoss_: _füesse_; _mus_: _müze_[158] + VII. _fuos_: _füese_; _mus_: _müze_ +VIII. _fuos_: _füese_; _mous_: _möüze_ + IX. _fus_: _füse_; _mous_: _möüze_ (Luther) + X. _fus_: _füse_; _maus_: _moize_ (German of 1900) + +[Footnote 157: I use _ss_ to indicate a peculiar long, voiceless +_s_-sound that was etymologically and phonetically distinct from the old +Germanic _s_. It always goes back to an old _t_. In the old sources it +is generally written as a variant of _z_, though it is not to be +confused with the modern German _z_ (= _ts_). It was probably a dental +(lisped) _s_.] + +[Footnote 158: _Z_ is to be understood as French or English _z_, not in +its German use. Strictly speaking, this "z" (intervocalic _-s-_) was not +voiced but was a soft voiceless sound, a sibilant intermediate between +our _s_ and _z_. In modern North German it has become voiced to _z_. It +is important not to confound this _s_--_z_ with the voiceless +intervocalic _s_ that soon arose from the older lisped _ss_. In Modern +German (aside from certain dialects), old _s_ and _ss_ are not now +differentiated when final (_Maus_ and _Fuss_ have identical sibilants), +but can still be distinguished as voiced and voiceless _s_ between +vowels (_Mäuse_ and _Füsse_).] + +We cannot even begin to ferret out and discuss all the psychological +problems that are concealed behind these bland tables. Their general +parallelism is obvious. Indeed we might say that to-day the English and +German forms resemble each other more than does either set the West +Germanic prototypes from which each is independently derived. Each table +illustrates the tendency to reduction of unaccented syllables, the +vocalic modification of the radical element under the influence of the +following vowel, the rise in tongue position of the long middle vowels +(English _o_ to _u_, _e_ to _i_; German _o_ to _uo_ to _u_, _üe_ to +_ü_), the diphthongizing of the old high vowels (English _i_ to _ei_ to +_ai_; English and German _u_ to _ou_ to _au_; German _ü_ to _öü_ to +_oi_). These dialectic parallels cannot be accidental. They are rooted +in a common, pre-dialectic drift. + +Phonetic changes are "regular." All but one (English table, X.), and +that as yet uncompleted, of the particular phonetic laws represented in +our tables affect all examples of the sound in question or, if the +phonetic change is conditional, all examples of the same sound that are +analogously circumstanced.[159] An example of the first type of change +is the passage in English of all old long _i_-vowels to diphthongal _ai_ +via _ei_. The passage could hardly have been sudden or automatic, but it +was rapid enough to prevent an irregularity of development due to cross +drifts. The second type of change is illustrated in the development of +Anglo-Saxon long _o_ to long _e_, via _ö_, under the influence of a +following _i_. In the first case we may say that _au_ mechanically +replaced long _u_, in the second that the old long _o_ "split" into two +sounds--long _o_, eventually _u_, and long _e_, eventually _i_. The +former type of change did no violence to the old phonetic pattern, the +formal distribution of sounds into groups; the latter type rearranged +the pattern somewhat. If neither of the two sounds into which an old one +"splits" is a new sound, it means that there has been a phonetic +leveling, that two groups of words, each with a distinct sound or sound +combination, have fallen together into one group. This kind of leveling +is quite frequent in the history of language. In English, for instance, +we have seen that all the old long _ü_-vowels, after they had become +unrounded, were indistinguishable from the mass of long _i_-vowels. This +meant that the long _i_-vowel became a more heavily weighted point of +the phonetic pattern than before. It is curious to observe how often +languages have striven to drive originally distinct sounds into certain +favorite positions, regardless of resulting confusions.[160] In Modern +Greek, for instance, the vowel _i_ is the historical resultant of no +less than ten etymologically distinct vowels (long and short) and +diphthongs of the classical speech of Athens. There is, then, good +evidence to show that there are general phonetic drifts toward +particular sounds. + +[Footnote 159: In practice phonetic laws have their exceptions, but more +intensive study almost invariably shows that these exceptions are more +apparent than real. They are generally due to the disturbing influence +of morphological groupings or to special psychological reasons which +inhibit the normal progress of the phonetic drift. It is remarkable with +how few exceptions one need operate in linguistic history, aside from +"analogical leveling" (morphological replacement).] + +[Footnote 160: These confusions are more theoretical than real, however. +A language has countless methods of avoiding practical ambiguities.] + +More often the phonetic drift is of a more general character. It is not +so much a movement toward a particular set of sounds as toward +particular types of articulation. The vowels tend to become higher or +lower, the diphthongs tend to coalesce into monophthongs, the voiceless +consonants tend to become voiced, stops tend to become spirants. As a +matter of fact, practically all the phonetic laws enumerated in the two +tables are but specific instances of such far-reaching phonetic drifts. +The raising of English long _o_ to _u_ and of long _e_ to _i_, for +instance, was part of a general tendency to raise the position of the +long vowels, just as the change of _t_ to _ss_ in Old High German was +part of a general tendency to make voiceless spirants of the old +voiceless stopped consonants. A single sound change, even if there is no +phonetic leveling, generally threatens to upset the old phonetic pattern +because it brings about a disharmony in the grouping of sounds. To +reëstablish the old pattern without going back on the drift the only +possible method is to have the other sounds of the series shift in +analogous fashion. If, for some reason or other, _p_ becomes shifted to +its voiced correspondent _b_, the old series _p_, _t_, _k_ appears in +the unsymmetrical form _b_, _t_, _k_. Such a series is, in phonetic +effect, not the equivalent of the old series, however it may answer to +it in etymology. The general phonetic pattern is impaired to that +extent. But if _t_ and _k_ are also shifted to their voiced +correspondents _d_ and _g_, the old series is reëstablished in a new +form: _b_, _d_, _g_. The pattern as such is preserved, or restored. +_Provided that_ the new series _b_, _d_, _g_ does not become confused +with an old series _b_, _d_, _g_ of distinct historical antecedents. If +there is no such older series, the creation of a _b_, _d_, _g_ series +causes no difficulties. If there is, the old patterning of sounds can be +kept intact only by shifting the old _b_, _d_, _g_ sounds in some way. +They may become aspirated to _bh_, _dh_, _gh_ or spirantized or +nasalized or they may develop any other peculiarity that keeps them +intact as a series and serves to differentiate them from other series. +And this sort of shifting about without loss of pattern, or with a +minimum loss of it, is probably the most important tendency in the +history of speech sounds. Phonetic leveling and "splitting" counteract +it to some extent but, on the whole, it remains the central unconscious +regulator of the course and speed of sound changes. + +The desire to hold on to a pattern, the tendency to "correct" a +disturbance by an elaborate chain of supplementary changes, often spread +over centuries or even millennia--these psychic undercurrents of +language are exceedingly difficult to understand in terms of individual +psychology, though there can be no denial of their historical reality. +What is the primary cause of the unsettling of a phonetic pattern and +what is the cumulative force that selects these or those particular +variations of the individual on which to float the pattern readjustments +we hardly know. Many linguistic students have made the fatal error of +thinking of sound change as a quasi-physiological instead of as a +strictly psychological phenomenon, or they have tried to dispose of the +problem by bandying such catchwords as "the tendency to increased ease +of articulation" or "the cumulative result of faulty perception" (on the +part of children, say, in learning to speak). These easy explanations +will not do. "Ease of articulation" may enter in as a factor, but it is +a rather subjective concept at best. Indians find hopelessly difficult +sounds and sound combinations that are simple to us; one language +encourages a phonetic drift that another does everything to fight. +"Faulty perception" does not explain that impressive drift in speech +sounds which I have insisted upon. It is much better to admit that we do +not yet understand the primary cause or causes of the slow drift in +phonetics, though we can frequently point to contributing factors. It is +likely that we shall not advance seriously until we study the +intuitional bases of speech. How can we understand the nature of the +drift that frays and reforms phonetic patterns when we have never +thought of studying sound patterning as such and the "weights" and +psychic relations of the single elements (the individual sounds) in +these patterns? + +Every linguist knows that phonetic change is frequently followed by +morphological rearrangements, but he is apt to assume that morphology +exercises little or no influence on the course of phonetic history. I am +inclined to believe that our present tendency to isolate phonetics and +grammar as mutually irrelevant linguistic provinces is unfortunate. +There are likely to be fundamental relations between them and their +respective histories that we do not yet fully grasp. After all, if +speech sounds exist merely because they are the symbolic carriers of +significant concepts and groupings of concepts, why may not a strong +drift or a permanent feature in the conceptual sphere exercise a +furthering or retarding influence on the phonetic drift? I believe that +such influences may be demonstrated and that they deserve far more +careful study than they have received. + +This brings us back to our unanswered question: How is it that both +English and German developed the curious alternation of unmodified vowel +in the singular (_foot_, _Fuss_) and modified vowel in the plural +(_feet_, _Füsse_)? Was the pre-Anglo-Saxon alternation of _fot_ and +_föti_ an absolutely mechanical matter, without other than incidental +morphological interest? It is always so represented, and, indeed, all +the external facts support such a view. The change from _o_ to _ö_, +later _e_, is by no means peculiar to the plural. It is found also in +the dative singular (_fet_), for it too goes back to an older _foti_. +Moreover, _fet_ of the plural applies only to the nominative and +accusative; the genitive has _fota_, the dative _fotum_. Only centuries +later was the alternation of _o_ and _e_ reinterpreted as a means of +distinguishing number; _o_ was generalized for the singular, _e_ for the +plural. Only when this reassortment of forms took place[161] was the +modern symbolic value of the _foot_: _feet_ alternation clearly +established. Again, we must not forget that _o_ was modified to _ö (e)_ +in all manner of other grammatical and derivative formations. Thus, a +pre-Anglo-Saxon _hohan_ (later _hon_) "to hang" corresponded to a +_höhith_, _hehith_ (later _hehth_) "hangs"; to _dom_ "doom," _blod_ +"blood," and _fod_ "food" corresponded the verbal derivatives _dömian_ +(later _deman_) "to deem," _blödian_ (later _bledan_) "to bleed," and +_födian_ (later _fedan_) "to feed." All this seems to point to the +purely mechanical nature of the modification of _o_ to _ö_ to _e_. So +many unrelated functions were ultimately served by the vocalic change +that we cannot believe that it was motivated by any one of them. + +[Footnote 161: A type of adjustment generally referred to as "analogical +leveling."] + +The German facts are entirely analogous. Only later in the history of +the language was the vocalic alternation made significant for number. +And yet consider the following facts. The change of _foti_ to _föti_ +antedated that of _föti_ to _föte_, _föt_. This may be looked upon as a +"lucky accident," for if _foti_ had become _fote_, _fot_ before the _-i_ +had had the chance to exert a retroactive influence on the _o_, there +would have been no difference between the singular and the plural. This +would have been anomalous in Anglo-Saxon for a masculine noun. But was +the sequence of phonetic changes an "accident"? Consider two further +facts. All the Germanic languages were familiar with vocalic change as +possessed of functional significance. Alternations like _sing_, _sang_, +_sung_ (Anglo-Saxon _singan_, _sang_, _sungen_) were ingrained in the +linguistic consciousness. Further, the tendency toward the weakening of +final syllables was very strong even then and had been manifesting +itself in one way and another for centuries. I believe that these +further facts help us to understand the actual sequence of phonetic +changes. We may go so far as to say that the _o_ (and _u_) could afford +to stay the change to _ö_ (and _ü_) until the destructive drift had +advanced to the point where failure to modify the vowel would soon +result in morphological embarrassment. At a certain moment the _-i_ +ending of the plural (and analogous endings with _i_ in other +formations) was felt to be too weak to quite bear its functional burden. +The unconscious Anglo-Saxon mind, if I may be allowed a somewhat summary +way of putting the complex facts, was glad of the opportunity afforded +by certain individual variations, until then automatically canceled out, +to have some share of the burden thrown on them. These particular +variations won through because they so beautifully allowed the general +phonetic drift to take its course without unsettling the morphological +contours of the language. And the presence of symbolic variation +(_sing_, _sang_, _sung_) acted as an attracting force on the rise of a +new variation of similar character. All these factors were equally true +of the German vocalic shift. Owing to the fact that the destructive +phonetic drift was proceeding at a slower rate in German than in +English, the preservative change of _uo_ to _üe_ (_u_ to _ü_) did not +need to set in until 300 years or more after the analogous English +change. Nor did it. And this is to my mind a highly significant fact. +Phonetic changes may sometimes be unconsciously encouraged in order to +keep intact the psychological spaces between words and word forms. The +general drift seizes upon those individual sound variations that help to +preserve the morphological balance or to lead to the new balance that +the language is striving for. + +I would suggest, then, that phonetic change is compacted of at least +three basic strands: (1) A general drift in one direction, concerning +the nature of which we know almost nothing but which may be suspected to +be of prevailingly dynamic character (tendencies, e.g., to greater or +less stress, greater or less voicing of elements); (2) A readjusting +tendency which aims to preserve or restore the fundamental phonetic +pattern of the language; (3) A preservative tendency which sets in when +a too serious morphological unsettlement is threatened by the main +drift. I do not imagine for a moment that it is always possible to +separate these strands or that this purely schematic statement does +justice to the complex forces that guide the phonetic drift. The +phonetic pattern of a language is not invariable, but it changes far +less readily than the sounds that compose it. Every phonetic element +that it possesses may change radically and yet the pattern remain +unaffected. It would be absurd to claim that our present English pattern +is identical with the old Indo-European one, yet it is impressive to +note that even at this late day the English series of initial +consonants: + +_p_ _t_ _k_ +_b_ _d_ _g_ +_f_ _th_ _h_ + +corresponds point for point to the Sanskrit series: + +_b_ _d_ _g_ +_bh_ _dh_ _gh_ +_p_ _t_ _k_ + +The relation between phonetic pattern and individual sound is roughly +parallel to that which obtains between the morphologic type of a +language and one of its specific morphological features. Both phonetic +pattern and fundamental type are exceedingly conservative, all +superficial appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. Which is more +so we cannot say. I suspect that they hang together in a way that we +cannot at present quite understand. + +If all the phonetic changes brought about by the phonetic drift were +allowed to stand, it is probable that most languages would present such +irregularities of morphological contour as to lose touch with their +formal ground-plan. Sound changes work mechanically. Hence they are +likely to affect a whole morphological group here--this does not +matter--, only part of a morphological group there--and this may be +disturbing. Thus, the old Anglo-Saxon paradigm: + + Sing. Plur. +N. Ac. _fot_ _fet_ (older _foti_) +G. _fotes_ _fota_ +D. _fet_ (older _foti_) _fotum_ + +could not long stand unmodified. The _o_--_e_ alternation was welcome in +so far as it roughly distinguished the singular from the plural. The +dative singular _fet_, however, though justified historically, was soon +felt to be an intrusive feature. The analogy of simpler and more +numerously represented paradigms created the form _fote_ (compare, e.g., +_fisc_ "fish," dative singular _fisce_). _Fet_ as a dative becomes +obsolete. The singular now had _o_ throughout. But this very fact made +the genitive and dative _o_-forms of the plural seem out of place. The +nominative and accusative _fet_ was naturally far more frequently in use +than were the corresponding forms of the genitive and dative. These, in +the end, could not but follow the analogy of _fet_. At the very +beginning of the Middle English period, therefore, we find that the old +paradigm has yielded to a more regular one: + + Sing. Plur. +N. Ac. *_fot_ *_fet_ +G. *_fotes_ _fete_ +D. _fote_ _feten_ + +The starred forms are the old nucleus around which the new paradigm is +built. The unstarred forms are not genealogical kin of their formal +prototypes. They are analogical replacements. + +The history of the English language teems with such levelings or +extensions. _Elder_ and _eldest_ were at one time the only possible +comparative and superlative forms of _old_ (compare German _alt_, +_älter_, _der älteste_; the vowel following the _old-_, _alt-_ was +originally an _i_, which modified the quality of the stem vowel). The +general analogy of the vast majority of English adjectives, however, has +caused the replacement of the forms _elder_ and _eldest_ by the forms +with unmodified vowel, _older_ and _oldest_. _Elder_ and _eldest_ +survive only as somewhat archaic terms for the older and oldest brother +or sister. This illustrates the tendency for words that are +psychologically disconnected from their etymological or formal group to +preserve traces of phonetic laws that have otherwise left no +recognizable trace or to preserve a vestige of a morphological process +that has long lost its vitality. A careful study of these survivals or +atrophied forms is not without value for the reconstruction of the +earlier history of a language or for suggestive hints as to its remoter +affiliations. + +Analogy may not only refashion forms within the confines of a related +cluster of forms (a "paradigm") but may extend its influence far beyond. +Of a number of functionally equivalent elements, for instance, only one +may survive, the rest yielding to its constantly widening influence. +This is what happened with the English _-s_ plural. Originally confined +to a particular class of masculines, though an important class, the _-s_ +plural was gradually generalized for all nouns but a mere handful that +still illustrate plural types now all but extinct (_foot_: feet, +_goose_: _geese_, _tooth_: _teeth_, _mouse_: _mice_, _louse_: _lice_; +_ox_: _oxen_; _child_: _children_; _sheep_: _sheep_, _deer_: _deer_). +Thus analogy not only regularizes irregularities that have come in the +wake of phonetic processes but introduces disturbances, generally in +favor of greater simplicity or regularity, in a long established system +of forms. These analogical adjustments are practically always symptoms +of the general morphological drift of the language. + +A morphological feature that appears as the incidental consequence of a +phonetic process, like the English plural with modified vowel, may +spread by analogy no less readily than old features that owe their +origin to other than phonetic causes. Once the _e_-vowel of Middle +English _fet_ had become confined to the plural, there was no +theoretical reason why alternations of the type _fot_: _fet_ and +_mus_: _mis_ might not have become established as a productive type of +number distinction in the noun. As a matter of fact, it did not so +become established. The _fot_: _fet_ type of plural secured but a +momentary foothold. It was swept into being by one of the surface drifts +of the language, to be swept aside in the Middle English period by the +more powerful drift toward the use of simple distinctive forms. It was +too late in the day for our language to be seriously interested in such +pretty symbolisms as _foot_: _feet_. What examples of the type arose +legitimately, in other words _via_ purely phonetic processes, were +tolerated for a time, but the type as such never had a serious future. + +It was different in German. The whole series of phonetic changes +comprised under the term "umlaut," of which _u_: _ü_ and _au_: _oi_ +(written _äu_) are but specific examples, struck the German language at +a time when the general drift to morphological simplification was not so +strong but that the resulting formal types (e.g., _Fuss_: _Füsse_; +_fallen_ "to fall": _fällen_ "to fell"; _Horn_ "horn": _Gehörne_ "group +of horns"; _Haus_ "house": _Häuslein_ "little house") could keep +themselves intact and even extend to forms that did not legitimately +come within their sphere of influence. "Umlaut" is still a very live +symbolic process in German, possibly more alive to-day than in medieval +times. Such analogical plurals as _Baum_ "tree": _Bäume_ (contrast +Middle High German _boum_: _boume_) and derivatives as _lachen_ "to +laugh": _Gelächter_ "laughter" (contrast Middle High German _gelach_) +show that vocalic mutation has won through to the status of a productive +morphologic process. Some of the dialects have even gone further than +standard German, at least in certain respects. In Yiddish,[162] for +instance, "umlaut" plurals have been formed where there are no Middle +High German prototypes or modern literary parallels, e.g., _tog_ "day": +_teg_ "days" (but German _Tag_: _Tage_) on the analogy of _gast_ +"guest": _gest_ "guests" (German _Gast_: _Gäste_), _shuch_[163] "shoe": +_shich_ "shoes" (but German _Schuh_: _Schuhe_) on the analogy of _fus_ +"foot": _fis_ "feet." It is possible that "umlaut" will run its course +and cease to operate as a live functional process in German, but that +time is still distant. Meanwhile all consciousness of the merely +phonetic nature of "umlaut" vanished centuries ago. It is now a strictly +morphological process, not in the least a mechanical phonetic +adjustment. We have in it a splendid example of how a simple phonetic +law, meaningless in itself, may eventually color or transform large +reaches of the morphology of a language. + +[Footnote 162: Isolated from other German dialects in the late fifteenth +and early sixteenth centuries. It is therefore a good test for gauging +the strength of the tendency to "umlaut," particularly as it has +developed a strong drift towards analytic methods.] + +[Footnote 163: _Ch_ as in German _Buch_.] + + + + +IX + +HOW LANGUAGES INFLUENCE EACH OTHER + + +Languages, like cultures, are rarely sufficient unto themselves. The +necessities of intercourse bring the speakers of one language into +direct or indirect contact with those of neighboring or culturally +dominant languages. The intercourse may be friendly or hostile. It may +move on the humdrum plane of business and trade relations or it may +consist of a borrowing or interchange of spiritual goods--art, science, +religion. It would be difficult to point to a completely isolated +language or dialect, least of all among the primitive peoples. The tribe +is often so small that intermarriages with alien tribes that speak other +dialects or even totally unrelated languages are not uncommon. It may +even be doubted whether intermarriage, intertribal trade, and general +cultural interchanges are not of greater relative significance on +primitive levels than on our own. Whatever the degree or nature of +contact between neighboring peoples, it is generally sufficient to lead +to some kind of linguistic interinfluencing. Frequently the influence +runs heavily in one direction. The language of a people that is looked +upon as a center of culture is naturally far more likely to exert an +appreciable influence on other languages spoken in its vicinity than to +be influenced by them. Chinese has flooded the vocabularies of Corean, +Japanese, and Annamite for centuries, but has received nothing in +return. In the western Europe of medieval and modern times French has +exercised a similar, though probably a less overwhelming, influence. +English borrowed an immense number of words from the French of the +Norman invaders, later also from the court French of Isle de France, +appropriated a certain number of affixed elements of derivational value +(e.g., _-ess_ of _princess_, _-ard_ of _drunkard_, _-ty_ of _royalty_), +may have been somewhat stimulated in its general analytic drift by +contact with French,[164] and even allowed French to modify its phonetic +pattern slightly (e.g., initial _v_ and _j_ in words like _veal_ and +_judge_; in words of Anglo-Saxon origin _v_ and _j_ can only occur after +vowels, e.g., _over_, _hedge_). But English has exerted practically no +influence on French. + +[Footnote 164: The earlier students of English, however, grossly +exaggerated the general "disintegrating" effect of French on middle +English. English was moving fast toward a more analytic structure long +before the French influence set in.] + +The simplest kind of influence that one language may exert on another is +the "borrowing" of words. When there is cultural borrowing there is +always the likelihood that the associated words may be borrowed too. +When the early Germanic peoples of northern Europe first learned of +wine-culture and of paved streets from their commercial or warlike +contact with the Romans, it was only natural that they should adopt the +Latin words for the strange beverage (_vinum_, English _wine_, German +_Wein_) and the unfamiliar type of road (_strata [via]_, English +_street_, German _Strasse_). Later, when Christianity was introduced +into England, a number of associated words, such as _bishop_ and +_angel_, found their way into English. And so the process has continued +uninterruptedly down to the present day, each cultural wave bringing to +the language a new deposit of loan-words. The careful study of such +loan-words constitutes an interesting commentary on the history of +culture. One can almost estimate the rôle which various peoples have +played in the development and spread of cultural ideas by taking note of +the extent to which their vocabularies have filtered into those of other +peoples. When we realize that an educated Japanese can hardly frame a +single literary sentence without the use of Chinese resources, that to +this day Siamese and Burmese and Cambodgian bear the unmistakable +imprint of the Sanskrit and Pali that came in with Hindu Buddhism +centuries ago, or that whether we argue for or against the teaching of +Latin and Greek our argument is sure to be studded with words that have +come to us from Rome and Athens, we get some inkling of what early +Chinese culture and Buddhism and classical Mediterranean civilization +have meant in the world's history. There are just five languages that +have had an overwhelming significance as carriers of culture. They are +classical Chinese, Sanskrit, Arabic, Greek, and Latin. In comparison +with these even such culturally important languages as Hebrew and French +sink into a secondary position. It is a little disappointing to learn +that the general cultural influence of English has so far been all but +negligible. The English language itself is spreading because the English +have colonized immense territories. But there is nothing to show that it +is anywhere entering into the lexical heart of other languages as French +has colored the English complexion or as Arabic has permeated Persian +and Turkish. This fact alone is significant of the power of nationalism, +cultural as well as political, during the last century. There are now +psychological resistances to borrowing, or rather to new sources of +borrowing,[165] that were not greatly alive in the Middle Ages or during +the Renaissance. + +[Footnote 165: For we still name our new scientific instruments and +patent medicines from Greek and Latin.] + +Are there resistances of a more intimate nature to the borrowing of +words? It is generally assumed that the nature and extent of borrowing +depend entirely on the historical facts of culture relation; that if +German, for instance, has borrowed less copiously than English from +Latin and French it is only because Germany has had less intimate +relations than England with the culture spheres of classical Rome and +France. This is true to a considerable extent, but it is not the whole +truth. We must not exaggerate the physical importance of the Norman +invasion nor underrate the significance of the fact that Germany's +central geographical position made it peculiarly sensitive to French +influences all through the Middle Ages, to humanistic influences in the +latter fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, and again to the +powerful French influences of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. +It seems very probable that the psychological attitude of the borrowing +language itself towards linguistic material has much to do with its +receptivity to foreign words. English has long been striving for the +completely unified, unanalyzed word, regardless of whether it is +monosyllabic or polysyllabic. Such words as _credible_, _certitude_, +_intangible_ are entirely welcome in English because each represents a +unitary, well-nuanced idea and because their formal analysis +(_cred-ible_, _cert-itude_, _in-tang-ible_) is not a necessary act of +the unconscious mind (_cred-_, _cert-_, and _tang-_ have no real +existence in English comparable to that of _good-_ in _goodness_). A +word like _intangible_, once it is acclimated, is nearly as simple a +psychological entity as any radical monosyllable (say _vague_, _thin_, +_grasp_). In German, however, polysyllabic words strive to analyze +themselves into significant elements. Hence vast numbers of French and +Latin words, borrowed at the height of certain cultural influences, +could not maintain themselves in the language. Latin-German words like +_kredibel_ "credible" and French-German words like _reussieren_ "to +succeed" offered nothing that the unconscious mind could assimilate to +its customary method of feeling and handling words. It is as though this +unconscious mind said: "I am perfectly willing to accept _kredibel_ if +you will just tell me what you mean by _kred-_." Hence German has +generally found it easier to create new words out of its own resources, +as the necessity for them arose. + +The psychological contrast between English and German as regards the +treatment of foreign material is a contrast that may be studied in all +parts of the world. The Athabaskan languages of America are spoken by +peoples that have had astonishingly varied cultural contacts, yet +nowhere do we find that an Athabaskan dialect has borrowed at all +freely[166] from a neighboring language. These languages have always +found it easier to create new words by compounding afresh elements ready +to hand. They have for this reason been highly resistant to receiving +the linguistic impress of the external cultural experiences of their +speakers. Cambodgian and Tibetan offer a highly instructive contrast in +their reaction to Sanskrit influence. Both are analytic languages, each +totally different from the highly-wrought, inflective language of India. +Cambodgian is isolating, but, unlike Chinese, it contains many +polysyllabic words whose etymological analysis does not matter. Like +English, therefore, in its relation to French and Latin, it welcomed +immense numbers of Sanskrit loan-words, many of which are in common use +to-day. There was no psychological resistance to them. Classical Tibetan +literature was a slavish adaptation of Hindu Buddhist literature and +nowhere has Buddhism implanted itself more firmly than in Tibet, yet it +is strange how few Sanskrit words have found their way into the +language. Tibetan was highly resistant to the polysyllabic words of +Sanskrit because they could not automatically fall into significant +syllables, as they should have in order to satisfy the Tibetan feeling +for form. Tibetan was therefore driven to translating the great majority +of these Sanskrit words into native equivalents. The Tibetan craving for +form was satisfied, though the literally translated foreign terms must +often have done violence to genuine Tibetan idiom. Even the proper names +of the Sanskrit originals were carefully translated, element for +element, into Tibetan; e.g., _Suryagarbha_ "Sun-bosomed" was carefully +Tibetanized into _Nyi-mai snying-po_ "Sun-of heart-the, the heart (or +essence) of the sun." The study of how a language reacts to the presence +of foreign words--rejecting them, translating them, or freely accepting +them--may throw much valuable light on its innate formal tendencies. + +[Footnote 166: One might all but say, "has borrowed at all."] + +The borrowing of foreign words always entails their phonetic +modification. There are sure to be foreign sounds or accentual +peculiarities that do not fit the native phonetic habits. They are then +so changed as to do as little violence as possible to these habits. +Frequently we have phonetic compromises. Such an English word as the +recently introduced _camouflage_, as now ordinarily pronounced, +corresponds to the typical phonetic usage of neither English nor French. +The aspirated _k_, the obscure vowel of the second syllable, the precise +quality of the _l_ and of the last _a_, and, above all, the strong +accent on the first syllable, are all the results of unconscious +assimilation to our English habits of pronunciation. They differentiate +our _camouflage_ clearly from the same word as pronounced by the +French. On the other hand, the long, heavy vowel in the third syllable +and the final position of the "zh" sound (like _z_ in _azure_) are +distinctly un-English, just as, in Middle English, the initial _j_ and +_v_[167] must have been felt at first as not strictly in accord with +English usage, though the strangeness has worn off by now. In all four +of these cases--initial _j_, initial _v_, final "zh," and unaccented _a_ +of _father_--English has not taken on a new sound but has merely +extended the use of an old one. + +[Footnote 167: See page 206.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 167 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 6329.] + +Occasionally a new sound is introduced, but it is likely to melt away +before long. In Chaucer's day the old Anglo-Saxon _ü_ (written _y_) had +long become unrounded to _i_, but a new set of _ü_-vowels had come in +from the French (in such words as _due_, _value_, _nature_). The new _ü_ +did not long hold its own; it became diphthongized to _iu_ and was +amalgamated with the native _iw_ of words like _new_ and _slew_. +Eventually this diphthong appears as _yu_, with change of stress--_dew_ +(from Anglo-Saxon _deaw_) like _due_ (Chaucerian _dü_). Facts like these +show how stubbornly a language resists radical tampering with its +phonetic pattern. + +Nevertheless, we know that languages do influence each other in phonetic +respects, and that quite aside from the taking over of foreign sounds +with borrowed words. One of the most curious facts that linguistics has +to note is the occurrence of striking phonetic parallels in totally +unrelated or very remotely related languages of a restricted +geographical area. These parallels become especially impressive when +they are seen contrastively from a wide phonetic perspective. Here are a +few examples. The Germanic languages as a whole have not developed +nasalized vowels. Certain Upper German (Suabian) dialects, however, +have now nasalized vowels in lieu of the older vowel + nasal consonant +(_n_). Is it only accidental that these dialects are spoken in proximity +to French, which makes abundant use of nasalized vowels? Again, there +are certain general phonetic features that mark off Dutch and Flemish in +contrast, say, to North German and Scandinavian dialects. One of these +is the presence of unaspirated voiceless stops (_p_, _t_, _k_), which +have a precise, metallic quality reminiscent of the corresponding French +sounds, but which contrast with the stronger, aspirated stops of +English, North German, and Danish. Even if we assume that the +unaspirated stops are more archaic, that they are the unmodified +descendants of the old Germanic consonants, is it not perhaps a +significant historical fact that the Dutch dialects, neighbors of +French, were inhibited from modifying these consonants in accordance +with what seems to have been a general Germanic phonetic drift? Even +more striking than these instances is the peculiar resemblance, in +certain special phonetic respects, of Russian and other Slavic languages +to the unrelated Ural-Altaic languages[168] of the Volga region. The +peculiar, dull vowel, for instance, known in Russian as "yeri"[169] has +Ural-Altaic analogues, but is entirely wanting in Germanic, Greek, +Armenian, and Indo-Iranian, the nearest Indo-European congeners of +Slavic. We may at least suspect that the Slavic vowel is not +historically unconnected with its Ural-Altaic parallels. One of the most +puzzling cases of phonetic parallelism is afforded by a large number of +American Indian languages spoken west of the Rockies. Even at the most +radical estimate there are at least four totally unrelated linguistic +stocks represented in the region from southern Alaska to central +California. Nevertheless all, or practically all, the languages of this +immense area have some important phonetic features in common. Chief of +these is the presence of a "glottalized" series of stopped consonants of +very distinctive formation and of quite unusual acoustic effect.[170] In +the northern part of the area all the languages, whether related or not, +also possess various voiceless _l_-sounds and a series of "velar" +(back-guttural) stopped consonants which are etymologically distinct +from the ordinary _k_-series. It is difficult to believe that three such +peculiar phonetic features as I have mentioned could have evolved +independently in neighboring groups of languages. + +[Footnote 168: Ugro-Finnic and Turkish (Tartar)] + +[Footnote 169: Probably, in Sweet's terminology, high-back (or, better, +between back and "mixed" positions)-narrow-unrounded. It generally +corresponds to an Indo-European long _u_.] + +[Footnote 170: There seem to be analogous or partly analogous sounds in +certain languages of the Caucasus.] + +How are we to explain these and hundreds of similar phonetic +convergences? In particular cases we may really be dealing with archaic +similarities due to a genetic relationship that it is beyond our present +power to demonstrate. But this interpretation will not get us far. It +must be ruled entirely out of court, for instance, in two of the three +European examples I have instanced; both nasalized vowels and the Slavic +"yeri" are demonstrably of secondary origin in Indo-European. However we +envisage the process in detail, we cannot avoid the inference that there +is a tendency for speech sounds or certain distinctive manners of +articulation to spread over a continuous area in somewhat the same way +that elements of culture ray out from a geographical center. We may +suppose that individual variations arising at linguistic +borderlands--whether by the unconscious suggestive influence of foreign +speech habits or by the actual transfer of foreign sounds into the +speech of bilingual individuals--have gradually been incorporated into +the phonetic drift of a language. So long as its main phonetic concern +is the preservation of its sound patterning, not of its sounds as such, +there is really no reason why a language may not unconsciously +assimilate foreign sounds that have succeeded in worming their way into +its gamut of individual variations, provided always that these new +variations (or reinforced old variations) are in the direction of the +native drift. + +A simple illustration will throw light on this conception. Let us +suppose that two neighboring and unrelated languages, A and B, each +possess voiceless _l_-sounds (compare Welsh _ll_). We surmise that this +is not an accident. Perhaps comparative study reveals the fact that in +language A the voiceless _l_-sounds correspond to a sibilant series in +other related languages, that an old alternation _s_: _sh_ has been +shifted to the new alternation _l_ (voiceless): _s_.[171] Does it follow +that the voiceless _l_ of language B has had the same history? Not in +the least. Perhaps B has a strong tendency toward audible breath release +at the end of a word, so that the final _l_, like a final vowel, was +originally followed by a marked aspiration. Individuals perhaps tended +to anticipate a little the voiceless release and to "unvoice" the latter +part of the final _l_-sound (very much as the _l_ of English words like +_felt_ tends to be partly voiceless in anticipation of the voicelessness +of the _t_). Yet this final _l_ with its latent tendency to unvoicing +might never have actually developed into a fully voiceless _l_ had not +the presence of voiceless _l_-sounds in A acted as an unconscious +stimulus or suggestive push toward a more radical change in the line of +B's own drift. Once the final voiceless _l_ emerged, its alternation in +related words with medial voiced _l_ is very likely to have led to its +analogical spread. The result would be that both A and B have an +important phonetic trait in common. Eventually their phonetic systems, +judged as mere assemblages of sounds, might even become completely +assimilated to each other, though this is an extreme case hardly ever +realized in practice. The highly significant thing about such phonetic +interinfluencings is the strong tendency of each language to keep its +phonetic pattern intact. So long as the respective alignments of the +similar sounds is different, so long as they have differing "values" and +"weights" in the unrelated languages, these languages cannot be said to +have diverged materially from the line of their inherent drift. In +phonetics, as in vocabulary, we must be careful not to exaggerate the +importance of interlinguistic influences. + +[Footnote 171: This can actually be demonstrated for one of the +Athabaskan dialects of the Yukon.] + +I have already pointed out in passing that English has taken over a +certain number of morphological elements from French. English also uses +a number of affixes that are derived from Latin and Greek. Some of these +foreign elements, like the _-ize_ of _materialize_ or the _-able_ of +_breakable_, are even productive to-day. Such examples as these are +hardly true evidences of a morphological influence exerted by one +language on another. Setting aside the fact that they belong to the +sphere of derivational concepts and do not touch the central +morphological problem of the expression of relational ideas, they have +added nothing to the structural peculiarities of our language. English +was already prepared for the relation of _pity_ to _piteous_ by such a +native pair as _luck_ and _lucky_; _material_ and _materialize_ merely +swelled the ranks of a form pattern familiar from such instances as +_wide_ and _widen_. In other words, the morphological influence exerted +by foreign languages on English, if it is to be gauged by such examples +as I have cited, is hardly different in kind from the mere borrowing of +words. The introduction of the suffix _-ize_ made hardly more difference +to the essential build of the language than did the mere fact that it +incorporated a given number of words. Had English evolved a new future +on the model of the synthetic future in French or had it borrowed from +Latin and Greek their employment of reduplication as a functional device +(Latin _tango_: _tetigi_; Greek _leipo_: _leloipa_), we should have the +right to speak of true morphological influence. But such far-reaching +influences are not demonstrable. Within the whole course of the history +of the English language we can hardly point to one important +morphological change that was not determined by the native drift, though +here and there we may surmise that this drift was hastened a little by +the suggestive influence of French forms.[172] + +[Footnote 172: In the sphere of syntax one may point to certain French +and Latin influences, but it is doubtful if they ever reached deeper +than the written language. Much of this type of influence belongs rather +to literary style than to morphology proper.] + +It is important to realize the continuous, self-contained morphological +development of English and the very modest extent to which its +fundamental build has been affected by influences from without. The +history of the English language has sometimes been represented as though +it relapsed into a kind of chaos on the arrival of the Normans, who +proceeded to play nine-pins with the Anglo-Saxon tradition. Students are +more conservative today. That a far-reaching analytic development may +take place without such external foreign influence as English was +subjected to is clear from the history of Danish, which has gone even +further than English in certain leveling tendencies. English may be +conveniently used as an _a fortiori_ test. It was flooded with French +loan-words during the later Middle Ages, at a time when its drift toward +the analytic type was especially strong. It was therefore changing +rapidly both within and on the surface. The wonder, then, is not that it +took on a number of external morphological features, mere accretions on +its concrete inventory, but that, exposed as it was to remolding +influences, it remained so true to its own type and historic drift. The +experience gained from the study of the English language is strengthened +by all that we know of documented linguistic history. Nowhere do we find +any but superficial morphological interinfluencings. We may infer one of +several things from this:--That a really serious morphological influence +is not, perhaps, impossible, but that its operation is so slow that it +has hardly ever had the chance to incorporate itself in the relatively +small portion of linguistic history that lies open to inspection; or +that there are certain favorable conditions that make for profound +morphological disturbances from without, say a peculiar instability of +linguistic type or an unusual degree of cultural contact, conditions +that do not happen to be realized in our documentary material; or, +finally, that we have not the right to assume that a language may easily +exert a remolding morphological influence on another. + +Meanwhile we are confronted by the baffling fact that important traits +of morphology are frequently found distributed among widely differing +languages within a large area, so widely differing, indeed, that it is +customary to consider them genetically unrelated. Sometimes we may +suspect that the resemblance is due to a mere convergence, that a +similar morphological feature has grown up independently in unrelated +languages. Yet certain morphological distributions are too specific in +character to be so lightly dismissed. There must be some historical +factor to account for them. Now it should be remembered that the concept +of a "linguistic stock" is never definitive[173] in an exclusive sense. +We can only say, with reasonable certainty, that such and such languages +are descended from a common source, but we cannot say that such and such +other languages are not genetically related. All we can do is to say +that the evidence for relationship is not cumulative enough to make the +inference of common origin absolutely necessary. May it not be, then, +that many instances of morphological similarity between divergent +languages of a restricted area are merely the last vestiges of a +community of type and phonetic substance that the destructive work of +diverging drifts has now made unrecognizable? There is probably still +enough lexical and morphological resemblance between modern English and +Irish to enable us to make out a fairly conclusive case for their +genetic relationship on the basis of the present-day descriptive +evidence alone. It is true that the case would seem weak in comparison +to the case that we can actually make with the help of the historical +and the comparative data that we possess. It would not be a bad case +nevertheless. In another two or three millennia, however, the points of +resemblance are likely to have become so obliterated that English and +Irish, in the absence of all but their own descriptive evidence, will +have to be set down as "unrelated" languages. They will still have in +common certain fundamental morphological features, but it will be +difficult to know how to evaluate them. Only in the light of the +contrastive perspective afforded by still more divergent languages, such +as Basque and Finnish, will these vestigial resemblances receive their +true historic value. + +[Footnote 173: See page 163.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 173 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 5037.] + +I cannot but suspect that many of the more significant distributions of +morphological similarities are to be explained as just such vestiges. +The theory of "borrowing" seems totally inadequate to explain those +fundamental features of structure, hidden away in the very core of the +linguistic complex, that have been pointed out as common, say, to +Semitic and Hamitic, to the various Soudanese languages, to +Malayo-Polynesian and Mon-Khmer[174] and Munda,[175] to Athabaskan and +Tlingit and Haida. We must not allow ourselves to be frightened away by +the timidity of the specialists, who are often notably lacking in the +sense of what I have called "contrastive perspective." + +[Footnote 174: A group of languages spoken in southeastern Asia, of +which Khmer (Cambodgian) is the best known representative.] + +[Footnote 175: A group of languages spoken in northeastern India.] + +Attempts have sometimes been made to explain the distribution of these +fundamental structural features by the theory of diffusion. We know that +myths, religious ideas, types of social organization, industrial +devices, and other features of culture may spread from point to point, +gradually making themselves at home in cultures to which they were at +one time alien. We also know that words may be diffused no less freely +than cultural elements, that sounds also may be "borrowed," and that +even morphological elements may be taken over. We may go further and +recognize that certain languages have, in all probability, taken on +structural features owing to the suggestive influence of neighboring +languages. An examination of such cases,[176] however, almost invariably +reveals the significant fact that they are but superficial additions on +the morphological kernel of the language. So long as such direct +historical testimony as we have gives us no really convincing examples +of profound morphological influence by diffusion, we shall do well not +to put too much reliance in diffusion theories. On the whole, therefore, +we shall ascribe the major concordances and divergences in linguistic +form--phonetic pattern and morphology--to the autonomous drift of +language, not to the complicating effect of single, diffused features +that cluster now this way, now that. Language is probably the most +self-contained, the most massively resistant of all social phenomena. It +is easier to kill it off than to disintegrate its individual form. + +[Footnote 176: I have in mind, e.g., the presence of postpositions in +Upper Chinook, a feature that is clearly due to the influence of +neighboring Sahaptin languages; or the use by Takelma of instrumental +prefixes, which are likely to have been suggested by neighboring "Hokan" +languages (Shasta, Karok).] + + + + +X + +LANGUAGE, RACE AND CULTURE + + +Language has a setting. The people that speak it belong to a race (or a +number of races), that is, to a group which is set off by physical +characteristics from other groups. Again, language does not exist apart +from culture, that is, from the socially inherited assemblage of +practices and beliefs that determines the texture of our lives. +Anthropologists have been in the habit of studying man under the three +rubrics of race, language, and culture. One of the first things they do +with a natural area like Africa or the South Seas is to map it out from +this threefold point of view. These maps answer the questions: What and +where are the major divisions of the human animal, biologically +considered (e.g., Congo Negro, Egyptian White; Australian Black, +Polynesian)? What are the most inclusive linguistic groupings, the +"linguistic stocks," and what is the distribution of each (e.g., the +Hamitic languages of northern Africa, the Bantu languages of the south; +the Malayo-Polynesian languages of Indonesia, Melanesia, Micronesia, and +Polynesia)? How do the peoples of the given area divide themselves as +cultural beings? what are the outstanding "cultural areas" and what are +the dominant ideas in each (e.g., the Mohammedan north of Africa; the +primitive hunting, non-agricultural culture of the Bushmen in the south; +the culture of the Australian natives, poor in physical respects but +richly developed in ceremonialism; the more advanced and highly +specialized culture of Polynesia)? + +The man in the street does not stop to analyze his position in the +general scheme of humanity. He feels that he is the representative of +some strongly integrated portion of humanity--now thought of as a +"nationality," now as a "race"--and that everything that pertains to him +as a typical representative of this large group somehow belongs +together. If he is an Englishman, he feels himself to be a member of the +"Anglo-Saxon" race, the "genius" of which race has fashioned the English +language and the "Anglo-Saxon" culture of which the language is the +expression. Science is colder. It inquires if these three types of +classification--racial, linguistic, and cultural--are congruent, if +their association is an inherently necessary one or is merely a matter +of external history. The answer to the inquiry is not encouraging to +"race" sentimentalists. Historians and anthropologists find that races, +languages, and cultures are not distributed in parallel fashion, that +their areas of distribution intercross in the most bewildering fashion, +and that the history of each is apt to follow a distinctive course. +Races intermingle in a way that languages do not. On the other hand, +languages may spread far beyond their original home, invading the +territory of new races and of new culture spheres. A language may even +die out in its primary area and live on among peoples violently hostile +to the persons of its original speakers. Further, the accidents of +history are constantly rearranging the borders of culture areas without +necessarily effacing the existing linguistic cleavages. If we can once +thoroughly convince ourselves that race, in its only intelligible, that +is biological, sense, is supremely indifferent to the history of +languages and cultures, that these are no more directly explainable on +the score of race than on that of the laws of physics and chemistry, we +shall have gained a viewpoint that allows a certain interest to such +mystic slogans as Slavophilism, Anglo-Saxondom, Teutonism, and the Latin +genius but that quite refuses to be taken in by any of them. A careful +study of linguistic distributions and of the history of such +distributions is one of the driest of commentaries on these sentimental +creeds. + +That a group of languages need not in the least correspond to a racial +group or a culture area is easily demonstrated. We may even show how a +single language intercrosses with race and culture lines. The English +language is not spoken by a unified race. In the United States there are +several millions of negroes who know no other language. It is their +mother-tongue, the formal vesture of their inmost thoughts and +sentiments. It is as much their property, as inalienably "theirs," as +the King of England's. Nor do the English-speaking whites of America +constitute a definite race except by way of contrast to the negroes. Of +the three fundamental white races in Europe generally recognized by +physical anthropologists--the Baltic or North European, the Alpine, and +the Mediterranean--each has numerous English-speaking representatives in +America. But does not the historical core of English-speaking peoples, +those relatively "unmixed" populations that still reside in England and +its colonies, represent a race, pure and single? I cannot see that the +evidence points that way. The English people are an amalgam of many +distinct strains. Besides the old "Anglo-Saxon," in other words North +German, element which is conventionally represented as the basic +strain, the English blood comprises Norman French,[177] Scandinavian, +"Celtic,"[178] and pre-Celtic elements. If by "English" we mean also +Scotch and Irish,[179] then the term "Celtic" is loosely used for at +least two quite distinct racial elements--the short, dark-complexioned +type of Wales and the taller, lighter, often ruddy-haired type of the +Highlands and parts of Ireland. Even if we confine ourselves to the +Saxon element, which, needless to say, nowhere appears "pure," we are +not at the end of our troubles. We may roughly identify this strain with +the racial type now predominant in southern Denmark and adjoining parts +of northern Germany. If so, we must content ourselves with the +reflection that while the English language is historically most closely +affiliated with Frisian, in second degree with the other West Germanic +dialects (Low Saxon or "Plattdeutsch," Dutch, High German), only in +third degree with Scandinavian, the specific "Saxon" racial type that +overran England in the fifth and sixth centuries was largely the same as +that now represented by the Danes, who speak a Scandinavian language, +while the High German-speaking population of central and southern +Germany[180] is markedly distinct. + +[Footnote 177: Itself an amalgam of North "French" and Scandinavian +elements.] + +[Footnote 178: The "Celtic" blood of what is now England and Wales is by +no means confined to the Celtic-speaking regions--Wales and, until +recently, Cornwall. There is every reason to believe that the invading +Germanic tribes (Angles, Saxons, Jutes) did not exterminate the +Brythonic Celts of England nor yet drive them altogether into Wales and +Cornwall (there has been far too much "driving" of conquered peoples +into mountain fastnesses and land's ends in our histories), but simply +intermingled with them and imposed their rule and language upon them.] + +[Footnote 179: In practice these three peoples can hardly be kept +altogether distinct. The terms have rather a local-sentimental than a +clearly racial value. Intermarriage has gone on steadily for centuries +and it is only in certain outlying regions that we get relatively pure +types, e.g., the Highland Scotch of the Hebrides. In America, English, +Scotch, and Irish strands have become inextricably interwoven.] + +[Footnote 180: The High German now spoken in northern Germany is not of +great age, but is due to the spread of standardized German, based on +Upper Saxon, a High German dialect, at the expense of "Plattdeutsch."] + +But what if we ignore these finer distinctions and simply assume that +the "Teutonic" or Baltic or North European racial type coincided in its +distribution with that of the Germanic languages? Are we not on safe +ground then? No, we are now in hotter water than ever. First of all, the +mass of the German-speaking population (central and southern Germany, +German Switzerland, German Austria) do not belong to the tall, +blond-haired, long-headed[181] "Teutonic" race at all, but to the +shorter, darker-complexioned, short-headed[182] Alpine race, of which +the central population of France, the French Swiss, and many of the +western and northern Slavs (e.g., Bohemians and Poles) are equally good +representatives. The distribution of these "Alpine" populations +corresponds in part to that of the old continental "Celts," whose +language has everywhere given way to Italic, Germanic, and Slavic +pressure. We shall do well to avoid speaking of a "Celtic race," but if +we were driven to give the term a content, it would probably be more +appropriate to apply it to, roughly, the western portion of the Alpine +peoples than to the two island types that I referred to before. These +latter were certainly "Celticized," in speech and, partly, in blood, +precisely as, centuries later, most of England and part of Scotland was +"Teutonized" by the Angles and Saxons. Linguistically speaking, the +"Celts" of to-day (Irish Gaelic, Manx, Scotch Gaelic, Welsh, Breton) are +Celtic and most of the Germans of to-day are Germanic precisely as the +American Negro, Americanized Jew, Minnesota Swede, and German-American +are "English." But, secondly, the Baltic race was, and is, by no means +an exclusively Germanic-speaking people. The northernmost "Celts," such +as the Highland Scotch, are in all probability a specialized offshoot of +this race. What these people spoke before they were Celticized nobody +knows, but there is nothing whatever to indicate that they spoke a +Germanic language. Their language may quite well have been as remote +from any known Indo-European idiom as are Basque and Turkish to-day. +Again, to the east of the Scandinavians are non-Germanic members of the +race--the Finns and related peoples, speaking languages that are not +definitely known to be related to Indo-European at all. + +[Footnote 181: "Dolichocephalic."] + +[Footnote 182: "Brachycephalic."] + +We cannot stop here. The geographical position of the Germanic languages +is such[183] as to make it highly probable that they represent but an +outlying transfer of an Indo-European dialect (possibly a Celto-Italic +prototype) to a Baltic people speaking a language or a group of +languages that was alien to Indo-European.[184] Not only, then, is +English not spoken by a unified race at present but its prototype, more +likely than not, was originally a foreign language to the race with +which English is more particularly associated. We need not seriously +entertain the idea that English or the group of languages to which it +belongs is in any intelligible sense the expression of race, that there +are embedded in it qualities that reflect the temperament or "genius" of +a particular breed of human beings. + +[Footnote 183: By working back from such data as we possess we can make +it probable that these languages were originally confined to a +comparatively small area in northern Germany and Scandinavia. This area +is clearly marginal to the total area of distribution of the +Indo-European-speaking peoples. Their center of gravity, say 1000 B.C., +seems to have lain in southern Russia.] + +[Footnote 184: While this is only a theory, the technical evidence for +it is stronger than one might suppose. There are a surprising number of +common and characteristic Germanic words which cannot be connected with +known Indo-European radical elements and which may well be survivals of +the hypothetical pre-Germanic language; such are _house_, _stone_, +_sea_, _wife_ (German _Haus_, _Stein_, _See_, _Weib_).] + +Many other, and more striking, examples of the lack of correspondence +between race and language could be given if space permitted. One +instance will do for many. The Malayo-Polynesian languages form a +well-defined group that takes in the southern end of the Malay Peninsula +and the tremendous island world to the south and east (except Australia +and the greater part of New Guinea). In this vast region we find +represented no less than three distinct races--the Negro-like Papuans of +New Guinea and Melanesia, the Malay race of Indonesia, and the +Polynesians of the outer islands. The Polynesians and Malays all speak +languages of the Malayo-Polynesian group, while the languages of the +Papuans belong partly to this group (Melanesian), partly to the +unrelated languages ("Papuan") of New Guinea.[185] In spite of the fact +that the greatest race cleavage in this region lies between the Papuans +and the Polynesians, the major linguistic division is of Malayan on the +one side, Melanesian and Polynesian on the other. + +[Footnote 185: Only the easternmost part of this island is occupied by +Melanesian-speaking Papuans.] + +As with race, so with culture. Particularly in more primitive levels, +where the secondarily unifying power of the "national"[186] ideal does +not arise to disturb the flow of what we might call natural +distributions, is it easy to show that language and culture are not +intrinsically associated. Totally unrelated languages share in one +culture, closely related languages--even a single language--belong to +distinct culture spheres. There are many excellent examples in +aboriginal America. The Athabaskan languages form as clearly unified, as +structurally specialized, a group as any that I know of.[187] The +speakers of these languages belong to four distinct culture areas--the +simple hunting culture of western Canada and the interior of Alaska +(Loucheux, Chipewyan), the buffalo culture of the Plains (Sarcee), the +highly ritualized culture of the southwest (Navaho), and the peculiarly +specialized culture of northwestern California (Hupa). The cultural +adaptability of the Athabaskan-speaking peoples is in the strangest +contrast to the inaccessibility to foreign influences of the languages +themselves.[188] The Hupa Indians are very typical of the culture area +to which they belong. Culturally identical with them are the neighboring +Yurok and Karok. There is the liveliest intertribal intercourse between +the Hupa, Yurok, and Karok, so much so that all three generally attend +an important religious ceremony given by any one of them. It is +difficult to say what elements in their combined culture belong in +origin to this tribe or that, so much at one are they in communal +action, feeling, and thought. But their languages are not merely alien +to each other; they belong to three of the major American linguistic +groups, each with an immense distribution on the northern continent. +Hupa, as we have seen, is Athabaskan and, as such, is also distantly +related to Haida (Queen Charlotte Islands) and Tlingit (southern +Alaska); Yurok is one of the two isolated Californian languages of the +Algonkin stock, the center of gravity of which lies in the region of the +Great Lakes; Karok is the northernmost member of the Hokan group, which +stretches far to the south beyond the confines of California and has +remoter relatives along the Gulf of Mexico. + +[Footnote 186: A "nationality" is a major, sentimentally unified, group. +The historical factors that lead to the feeling of national unity are +various--political, cultural, linguistic, geographic, sometimes +specifically religious. True racial factors also may enter in, though +the accent on "race" has generally a psychological rather than a +strictly biological value. In an area dominated by the national +sentiment there is a tendency for language and culture to become uniform +and specific, so that linguistic and cultural boundaries at least tend +to coincide. Even at best, however, the linguistic unification is never +absolute, while the cultural unity is apt to be superficial, of a +quasi-political nature, rather than deep and far-reaching.] + +[Footnote 187: The Semitic languages, idiosyncratic as they are, are no +more definitely ear-marked.] + +[Footnote 188: See page 209.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 188 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 6448.] + +Returning to English, most of us would readily admit, I believe, that +the community of language between Great Britain and the United States is +far from arguing a like community of culture. It is customary to say +that they possess a common "Anglo-Saxon" cultural heritage, but are not +many significant differences in life and feeling obscured by the +tendency of the "cultured" to take this common heritage too much for +granted? In so far as America is still specifically "English," it is +only colonially or vestigially so; its prevailing cultural drift is +partly towards autonomous and distinctive developments, partly towards +immersion in the larger European culture of which that of England is +only a particular facet. We cannot deny that the possession of a common +language is still and will long continue to be a smoother of the way to +a mutual cultural understanding between England and America, but it is +very clear that other factors, some of them rapidly cumulative, are +working powerfully to counteract this leveling influence. A common +language cannot indefinitely set the seal on a common culture when the +geographical, political, and economic determinants of the culture are no +longer the same throughout its area. + +Language, race, and culture are not necessarily correlated. This does +not mean that they never are. There is some tendency, as a matter of +fact, for racial and cultural lines of cleavage to correspond to +linguistic ones, though in any given case the latter may not be of the +same degree of importance as the others. Thus, there is a fairly +definite line of cleavage between the Polynesian languages, race, and +culture on the one hand and those of the Melanesians on the other, in +spite of a considerable amount of overlapping.[189] The racial and +cultural division, however, particularly the former, are of major +importance, while the linguistic division is of quite minor +significance, the Polynesian languages constituting hardly more than a +special dialectic subdivision of the combined Melanesian-Polynesian +group. Still clearer-cut coincidences of cleavage may be found. The +language, race, and culture of the Eskimo are markedly distinct from +those of their neighbors;[190] in southern Africa the language, race, +and culture of the Bushmen offer an even stronger contrast to those of +their Bantu neighbors. Coincidences of this sort are of the greatest +significance, of course, but this significance is not one of inherent +psychological relation between the three factors of race, language, and +culture. The coincidences of cleavage point merely to a readily +intelligible historical association. If the Bantu and Bushmen are so +sharply differentiated in all respects, the reason is simply that the +former are relatively recent arrivals in southern Africa. The two +peoples developed in complete isolation from each other; their present +propinquity is too recent for the slow process of cultural and racial +assimilation to have set in very powerfully. As we go back in time, we +shall have to assume that relatively scanty populations occupied large +territories for untold generations and that contact with other masses of +population was not as insistent and prolonged as it later became. The +geographical and historical isolation that brought about race +differentiations was naturally favorable also to far-reaching variations +in language and culture. The very fact that races and cultures which are +brought into historical contact tend to assimilate in the long run, +while neighboring languages assimilate each other only casually and in +superficial respects[191], indicates that there is no profound causal +relation between the development of language and the specific +development of race and of culture. + +[Footnote 189: The Fijians, for instance, while of Papuan (negroid) +race, are Polynesian rather than Melanesian in their cultural and +linguistic affinities.] + +[Footnote 190: Though even here there is some significant overlapping. +The southernmost Eskimo of Alaska were assimilated in culture to their +Tlingit neighbors. In northeastern Siberia, too, there is no sharp +cultural line between the Eskimo and the Chukchi.] + +[Footnote 191: The supersession of one language by another is of course +not truly a matter of linguistic assimilation.] + +But surely, the wary reader will object, there must be some relation +between language and culture, and between language and at least that +intangible aspect of race that we call "temperament". Is it not +inconceivable that the particular collective qualities of mind that have +fashioned a culture are not precisely the same as were responsible for +the growth of a particular linguistic morphology? This question takes us +into the heart of the most difficult problems of social psychology. It +is doubtful if any one has yet attained to sufficient clarity on the +nature of the historical process and on the ultimate psychological +factors involved in linguistic and cultural drifts to answer it +intelligently. I can only very briefly set forth my own views, or rather +my general attitude. It would be very difficult to prove that +"temperament", the general emotional disposition of a people[192], is +basically responsible for the slant and drift of a culture, however much +it may manifest itself in an individual's handling of the elements of +that culture. But granted that temperament has a certain value for the +shaping of culture, difficult though it be to say just how, it does not +follow that it has the same value for the shaping of language. It is +impossible to show that the form of a language has the slightest +connection with national temperament. Its line of variation, its drift, +runs inexorably in the channel ordained for it by its historic +antecedents; it is as regardless of the feelings and sentiments of its +speakers as is the course of a river of the atmospheric humors of the +landscape. I am convinced that it is futile to look in linguistic +structure for differences corresponding to the temperamental variations +which are supposed to be correlated with race. In this connection it is +well to remember that the emotional aspect of our psychic life is but +meagerly expressed in the build of language[193]. + +[Footnote 192: "Temperament" is a difficult term to work with. A great +deal of what is loosely charged to national "temperament" is really +nothing but customary behavior, the effect of traditional ideals of +conduct. In a culture, for instance, that does not look kindly upon +demonstrativeness, the natural tendency to the display of emotion +becomes more than normally inhibited. It would be quite misleading to +argue from the customary inhibition, a cultural fact, to the native +temperament. But ordinarily we can get at human conduct only as it is +culturally modified. Temperament in the raw is a highly elusive thing.] + +[Footnote 193: See pages 39, 40.] + +[Transcriber's note: Footnote 193 refers to the paragraph beginning on +line 1256.] + +Language and our thought-grooves are inextricably interwoven, are, in a +sense, one and the same. As there is nothing to show that there are +significant racial differences in the fundamental conformation of +thought, it follows that the infinite variability of linguistic form, +another name for the infinite variability of the actual process of +thought, cannot be an index of such significant racial differences. This +is only apparently a paradox. The latent content of all languages is the +same--the intuitive _science_ of experience. It is the manifest form +that is never twice the same, for this form, which we call linguistic +morphology, is nothing more nor less than a collective _art_ of thought, +an art denuded of the irrelevancies of individual sentiment. At last +analysis, then, language can no more flow from race as such than can the +sonnet form. + +Nor can I believe that culture and language are in any true sense +causally related. Culture may be defined as _what_ a society does and +thinks. Language is a particular _how_ of thought. It is difficult to +see what particular causal relations may be expected to subsist between +a selected inventory of experience (culture, a significant selection +made by society) and the particular manner in which the society +expresses all experience. The drift of culture, another way of saying +history, is a complex series of changes in society's selected +inventory--additions, losses, changes of emphasis and relation. The +drift of language is not properly concerned with changes of content at +all, merely with changes in formal expression. It is possible, in +thought, to change every sound, word, and concrete concept of a language +without changing its inner actuality in the least, just as one can pour +into a fixed mold water or plaster or molten gold. If it can be shown +that culture has an innate form, a series of contours, quite apart from +subject-matter of any description whatsoever, we have a something in +culture that may serve as a term of comparison with and possibly a +means of relating it to language. But until such purely formal patterns +of culture are discovered and laid bare, we shall do well to hold the +drifts of language and of culture to be non-comparable and unrelated +processes. From this it follows that all attempts to connect particular +types of linguistic morphology with certain correlated stages of +cultural development are vain. Rightly understood, such correlations are +rubbish. The merest _coup d'oeil_ verifies our theoretical argument on +this point. Both simple and complex types of language of an indefinite +number of varieties may be found spoken at any desired level of cultural +advance. When it comes to linguistic form, Plato walks with the +Macedonian swineherd, Confucius with the head-hunting savage of Assam. + +It goes without saying that the mere content of language is intimately +related to culture. A society that has no knowledge of theosophy need +have no name for it; aborigines that had never seen or heard of a horse +were compelled to invent or borrow a word for the animal when they made +his acquaintance. In the sense that the vocabulary of a language more or +less faithfully reflects the culture whose purposes it serves it is +perfectly true that the history of language and the history of culture +move along parallel lines. But this superficial and extraneous kind of +parallelism is of no real interest to the linguist except in so far as +the growth or borrowing of new words incidentally throws light on the +formal trends of the language. The linguistic student should never make +the mistake of identifying a language with its dictionary. + +If both this and the preceding chapter have been largely negative in +their contentions, I believe that they have been healthily so. There is +perhaps no better way to learn the essential nature of speech than to +realize what it is not and what it does not do. Its superficial +connections with other historic processes are so close that it needs to +be shaken free of them if we are to see it in its own right. Everything +that we have so far seen to be true of language points to the fact that +it is the most significant and colossal work that the human spirit has +evolved--nothing short of a finished form of expression for all +communicable experience. This form may be endlessly varied by the +individual without thereby losing its distinctive contours; and it is +constantly reshaping itself as is all art. Language is the most massive +and inclusive art we know, a mountainous and anonymous work of +unconscious generations. + + + + +XI + +LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE + + +Languages are more to us than systems of thought-transference. They are +invisible garments that drape themselves about our spirit and give a +predetermined form to all its symbolic expression. When the expression +is of unusual significance, we call it literature.[194] Art is so +personal an expression that we do not like to feel that it is bound to +predetermined form of any sort. The possibilities of individual +expression are infinite, language in particular is the most fluid of +mediums. Yet some limitation there must be to this freedom, some +resistance of the medium. In great art there is the illusion of absolute +freedom. The formal restraints imposed by the material--paint, black and +white, marble, piano tones, or whatever it may be--are not perceived; it +is as though there were a limitless margin of elbow-room between the +artist's fullest utilization of form and the most that the material is +innately capable of. The artist has intuitively surrendered to the +inescapable tyranny of the material, made its brute nature fuse easily +with his conception.[195] The material "disappears" precisely because +there is nothing in the artist's conception to indicate that any other +material exists. For the time being, he, and we with him, move in the +artistic medium as a fish moves in the water, oblivious of the existence +of an alien atmosphere. No sooner, however, does the artist transgress +the law of his medium than we realize with a start that there is a +medium to obey. + +[Footnote 194: I can hardly stop to define just what kind of expression +is "significant" enough to be called art or literature. Besides, I do +not exactly know. We shall have to take literature for granted.] + +[Footnote 195: This "intuitive surrender" has nothing to do with +subservience to artistic convention. More than one revolt in modern art +has been dominated by the desire to get out of the material just what it +is really capable of. The impressionist wants light and color because +paint can give him just these; "literature" in painting, the sentimental +suggestion of a "story," is offensive to him because he does not want +the virtue of his particular form to be dimmed by shadows from another +medium. Similarly, the poet, as never before, insists that words mean +just what they really mean.] + +Language is the medium of literature as marble or bronze or clay are the +materials of the sculptor. Since every language has its distinctive +peculiarities, the innate formal limitations--and possibilities--of one +literature are never quite the same as those of another. The literature +fashioned out of the form and substance of a language has the color and +the texture of its matrix. The literary artist may never be conscious of +just how he is hindered or helped or otherwise guided by the matrix, but +when it is a question of translating his work into another language, the +nature of the original matrix manifests itself at once. All his effects +have been calculated, or intuitively felt, with reference to the formal +"genius" of his own language; they cannot be carried over without loss +or modification. Croce[196] is therefore perfectly right in saying that +a work of literary art can never be translated. Nevertheless literature +does get itself translated, sometimes with astonishing adequacy. This +brings up the question whether in the art of literature there are not +intertwined two distinct kinds or levels of art--a generalized, +non-linguistic art, which can be transferred without loss into an alien +linguistic medium, and a specifically linguistic art that is not +transferable.[197] I believe the distinction is entirely valid, though +we never get the two levels pure in practice. Literature moves in +language as a medium, but that medium comprises two layers, the latent +content of language--our intuitive record of experience--and the +particular conformation of a given language--the specific how of our +record of experience. Literature that draws its sustenance mainly--never +entirely--from the lower level, say a play of Shakespeare's, is +translatable without too great a loss of character. If it moves in the +upper rather than in the lower level--a fair example is a lyric of +Swinburne's--it is as good as untranslatable. Both types of literary +expression may be great or mediocre. + +[Footnote 196: See Benedetto Croce, "Aesthetic."] + +[Footnote 197: The question of the transferability of art productions +seems to me to be of genuine theoretic interest. For all that we speak +of the sacrosanct uniqueness of a given art work, we know very well, +though we do not always admit it, that not all productions are equally +intractable to transference. A Chopin étude is inviolate; it moves +altogether in the world of piano tone. A Bach fugue is transferable into +another set of musical timbres without serious loss of esthetic +significance. Chopin plays with the language of the piano as though no +other language existed (the medium "disappears"); Bach speaks the +language of the piano as a handy means of giving outward expression to a +conception wrought in the generalized language of tone.] + +There is really no mystery in the distinction. It can be clarified a +little by comparing literature with science. A scientific truth is +impersonal, in its essence it is untinctured by the particular +linguistic medium in which it finds expression. It can as readily +deliver its message in Chinese[198] as in English. Nevertheless it must +have some expression, and that expression must needs be a linguistic +one. Indeed the apprehension of the scientific truth is itself a +linguistic process, for thought is nothing but language denuded of its +outward garb. The proper medium of scientific expression is therefore a +generalized language that may be defined as a symbolic algebra of which +all known languages are translations. One can adequately translate +scientific literature because the original scientific expression is +itself a translation. Literary expression is personal and concrete, but +this does not mean that its significance is altogether bound up with the +accidental qualities of the medium. A truly deep symbolism, for +instance, does not depend on the verbal associations of a particular +language but rests securely on an intuitive basis that underlies all +linguistic expression. The artist's "intuition," to use Croce's term, is +immediately fashioned out of a generalized human experience--thought and +feeling--of which his own individual experience is a highly personalized +selection. The thought relations in this deeper level have no specific +linguistic vesture; the rhythms are free, not bound, in the first +instance, to the traditional rhythms of the artist's language. Certain +artists whose spirit moves largely in the non-linguistic (better, in the +generalized linguistic) layer even find a certain difficulty in getting +themselves expressed in the rigidly set terms of their accepted idiom. +One feels that they are unconsciously striving for a generalized art +language, a literary algebra, that is related to the sum of all known +languages as a perfect mathematical symbolism is related to all the +roundabout reports of mathematical relations that normal speech is +capable of conveying. Their art expression is frequently strained, it +sounds at times like a translation from an unknown original--which, +indeed, is precisely what it is. These artists--Whitmans and +Brownings--impress us rather by the greatness of their spirit than the +felicity of their art. Their relative failure is of the greatest +diagnostic value as an index of the pervasive presence in literature of +a larger, more intuitive linguistic medium than any particular language. + +[Footnote 198: Provided, of course, Chinese is careful to provide itself +with the necessary scientific vocabulary. Like any other language, it +can do so without serious difficulty if the need arises.] + +Nevertheless, human expression being what it is, the greatest--or shall +we say the most satisfying--literary artists, the Shakespeares and +Heines, are those who have known subconsciously to fit or trim the +deeper intuition to the provincial accents of their daily speech. In +them there is no effect of strain. Their personal "intuition" appears as +a completed synthesis of the absolute art of intuition and the innate, +specialized art of the linguistic medium. With Heine, for instance, one +is under the illusion that the universe speaks German. The material +"disappears." + +Every language is itself a collective art of expression. There is +concealed in it a particular set of esthetic factors--phonetic, +rhythmic, symbolic, morphological--which it does not completely share +with any other language. These factors may either merge their potencies +with those of that unknown, absolute language to which I have +referred--this is the method of Shakespeare and Heine--or they may weave +a private, technical art fabric of their own, the innate art of the +language intensified or sublimated. The latter type, the more +technically "literary" art of Swinburne and of hosts of delicate "minor" +poets, is too fragile for endurance. It is built out of spiritualized +material, not out of spirit. The successes of the Swinburnes are as +valuable for diagnostic purposes as the semi-failures of the Brownings. +They show to what extent literary art may lean on the collective art of +the language itself. The more extreme technical practitioners may so +over-individualize this collective art as to make it almost unendurable. +One is not always thankful to have one's flesh and blood frozen to +ivory. + +An artist must utilize the native esthetic resources of his speech. He +may be thankful if the given palette of colors is rich, if the +springboard is light. But he deserves no special credit for felicities +that are the language's own. We must take for granted this language with +all its qualities of flexibility or rigidity and see the artist's work +in relation to it. A cathedral on the lowlands is higher than a stick on +Mont Blanc. In other words, we must not commit the folly of admiring a +French sonnet because the vowels are more sonorous than our own or of +condemning Nietzsche's prose because it harbors in its texture +combinations of consonants that would affright on English soil. To so +judge literature would be tantamount to loving "Tristan und Isolde" +because one is fond of the timbre of horns. There are certain things +that one language can do supremely well which it would be almost vain +for another to attempt. Generally there are compensations. The vocalism +of English is an inherently drabber thing than the vowel scale of +French, yet English compensates for this drawback by its greater +rhythmical alertness. It is even doubtful if the innate sonority of a +phonetic system counts for as much, as esthetic determinant, as the +relations between the sounds, the total gamut of their similarities and +contrasts. As long as the artist has the wherewithal to lay out his +sequences and rhythms, it matters little what are the sensuous qualities +of the elements of his material. + +The phonetic groundwork of a language, however, is only one of the +features that give its literature a certain direction. Far more +important are its morphological peculiarities. It makes a great deal of +difference for the development of style if the language can or cannot +create compound words, if its structure is synthetic or analytic, if the +words of its sentences have considerable freedom of position or are +compelled to fall into a rigidly determined sequence. The major +characteristics of style, in so far as style is a technical matter of +the building and placing of words, are given by the language itself, +quite as inescapably, indeed, as the general acoustic effect of verse is +given by the sounds and natural accents of the language. These necessary +fundamentals of style are hardly felt by the artist to constrain his +individuality of expression. They rather point the way to those +stylistic developments that most suit the natural bent of the language. +It is not in the least likely that a truly great style can seriously +oppose itself to the basic form patterns of the language. It not only +incorporates them, it builds on them. The merit of such a style as W.H. +Hudson's or George Moore's[199] is that it does with ease and economy +what the language is always trying to do. Carlylese, though individual +and vigorous, is yet not style; it is a Teutonic mannerism. Nor is the +prose of Milton and his contemporaries strictly English; it is +semi-Latin done into magnificent English words. + +[Footnote 199: Aside from individual peculiarities of diction, the +selection and evaluation of particular words as such.] + +It is strange how long it has taken the European literatures to learn +that style is not an absolute, a something that is to be imposed on the +language from Greek or Latin models, but merely the language itself, +running in its natural grooves, and with enough of an individual accent +to allow the artist's personality to be felt as a presence, not as an +acrobat. We understand more clearly now that what is effective and +beautiful in one language is a vice in another. Latin and Eskimo, with +their highly inflected forms, lend themselves to an elaborately periodic +structure that would be boring in English. English allows, even demands, +a looseness that would be insipid in Chinese. And Chinese, with its +unmodified words and rigid sequences, has a compactness of phrase, a +terse parallelism, and a silent suggestiveness that would be too tart, +too mathematical, for the English genius. While we cannot assimilate the +luxurious periods of Latin nor the pointilliste style of the Chinese +classics, we can enter sympathetically into the spirit of these alien +techniques. + +I believe that any English poet of to-day would be thankful for the +concision that a Chinese poetaster attains without effort. Here is an +example:[200] + +[Footnote 200: Not by any means a great poem, merely a bit of occasional +verse written by a young Chinese friend of mine when he left Shanghai +for Canada.] + +Wu-river[201] stream mouth evening sun sink, +North look Liao-Tung,[202] not see home. +Steam whistle several noise, sky-earth boundless, +Float float one reed out Middle-Kingdom. + +[Footnote 201: The old name of the country about the mouth of the +Yangtsze.] + +[Footnote 202: A province of Manchuria.] + +These twenty-eight syllables may be clumsily interpreted: "At the mouth +of the Yangtsze River, as the sun is about to sink, I look north toward +Liao-Tung but do not see my home. The steam-whistle shrills several +times on the boundless expanse where meet sky and earth. The steamer, +floating gently like a hollow reed, sails out of the Middle +Kingdom."[203] But we must not envy Chinese its terseness unduly. Our +more sprawling mode of expression is capable of its own beauties, and +the more compact luxuriance of Latin style has its loveliness too. +There are almost as many natural ideals of literary style as there are +languages. Most of these are merely potential, awaiting the hand of +artists who will never come. And yet in the recorded texts of primitive +tradition and song there are many passages of unique vigor and beauty. +The structure of the language often forces an assemblage of concepts +that impresses us as a stylistic discovery. Single Algonkin words are +like tiny imagist poems. We must be careful not to exaggerate a +freshness of content that is at least half due to our freshness of +approach, but the possibility is indicated none the less of utterly +alien literary styles, each distinctive with its disclosure of the +search of the human spirit for beautiful form. + +[Footnote 203: I.e., China.] + +Probably nothing better illustrates the formal dependence of literature +on language than the prosodic aspect of poetry. Quantitative verse was +entirely natural to the Greeks, not merely because poetry grew up in +connection with the chant and the dance,[204] but because alternations +of long and short syllables were keenly live facts in the daily economy +of the language. The tonal accents, which were only secondarily stress +phenomena, helped to give the syllable its quantitative individuality. +When the Greek meters were carried over into Latin verse, there was +comparatively little strain, for Latin too was characterized by an acute +awareness of quantitative distinctions. However, the Latin accent was +more markedly stressed than that of Greek. Probably, therefore, the +purely quantitative meters modeled after the Greek were felt as a shade +more artificial than in the language of their origin. The attempt to +cast English verse into Latin and Greek molds has never been successful. +The dynamic basis of English is not quantity,[205] but stress, the +alternation of accented and unaccented syllables. This fact gives +English verse an entirely different slant and has determined the +development of its poetic forms, is still responsible for the evolution +of new forms. Neither stress nor syllabic weight is a very keen +psychologic factor in the dynamics of French. The syllable has great +inherent sonority and does not fluctuate significantly as to quantity +and stress. Quantitative or accentual metrics would be as artificial in +French as stress metrics in classical Greek or quantitative or purely +syllabic metrics in English. French prosody was compelled to develop on +the basis of unit syllable-groups. Assonance, later rhyme, could not but +prove a welcome, an all but necessary, means of articulating or +sectioning the somewhat spineless flow of sonorous syllables. English +was hospitable to the French suggestion of rhyme, but did not seriously +need it in its rhythmic economy. Hence rhyme has always been strictly +subordinated to stress as a somewhat decorative feature and has been +frequently dispensed with. It is no psychologic accident that rhyme came +later into English than in French and is leaving it sooner.[206] Chinese +verse has developed along very much the same lines as French verse. The +syllable is an even more integral and sonorous unit than in French, +while quantity and stress are too uncertain to form the basis of a +metric system. Syllable-groups--so and so many syllables per rhythmic +unit--and rhyme are therefore two of the controlling factors in Chinese +prosody. The third factor, the alternation of syllables with level tone +and syllables with inflected (rising or falling) tone, is peculiar to +Chinese. + +[Footnote 204: Poetry everywhere is inseparable in its origins from the +singing voice and the measure of the dance. Yet accentual and syllabic +types of verse, rather than quantitative verse, seem to be the +prevailing norms.] + +[Footnote 205: Quantitative distinctions exist as an objective fact. +They have not the same inner, psychological value that they had in +Greek.] + +[Footnote 206: Verhaeren was no slave to the Alexandrine, yet he +remarked to Symons, _à propos_ of the translation of _Les Aubes_, that +while he approved of the use of rhymeless verse in the English version, +he found it "meaningless" in French.] + +To summarize, Latin and Greek verse depends on the principle of +contrasting weights; English verse, on the principle of contrasting +stresses; French verse, on the principles of number and echo; Chinese +verse, on the principles of number, echo, and contrasting pitches. Each +of these rhythmic systems proceeds from the unconscious dynamic habit of +the language, falling from the lips of the folk. Study carefully the +phonetic system of a language, above all its dynamic features, and you +can tell what kind of a verse it has developed--or, if history has +played pranks with its phychology, what kind of verse it should have +developed and some day will. + +Whatever be the sounds, accents, and forms of a language, however these +lay hands on the shape of its literature, there is a subtle law of +compensations that gives the artist space. If he is squeezed a bit here, +he can swing a free arm there. And generally he has rope enough to hang +himself with, if he must. It is not strange that this should be so. +Language is itself the collective art of expression, a summary of +thousands upon thousands of individual intuitions. The individual goes +lost in the collective creation, but his personal expression has left +some trace in a certain give and flexibility that are inherent in all +collective works of the human spirit. The language is ready, or can be +quickly made ready, to define the artist's individuality. If no +literary artist appears, it is not essentially because the language is +too weak an instrument, it is because the culture of the people is not +favorable to the growth of such personality as seeks a truly individual +verbal expression. + + + + +INDEX + +_Note_. Italicized entries are names of languages or groups of languages. + + +A + +Abbreviation of stem, +Accent, stress, + as grammatical process, + importance of, + metrical value of +"Accent," +"Adam's apple," +Adjective, +Affixation, +Affixing languages, +African languages, pitch in, +Agglutination, +Agglutinative languages, +Agglutinative-fusional, +Agglutinative-isolating, +_Algonkin_ languages (N. Amer.), +Alpine race, +Analogical leveling, +Analytic tendency, +Angles, +_Anglo-Saxon_, +Anglo-Saxon: + culture, + race, +_Annamite_ (S.E. Asia), +_Apache_ (N. Amer.), +_Arabic_, +_Armenian_, +Art, + language as, + transferability of, +Articulation: + ease of, + types of, drift toward, +Articulations: + laryngeal, + manner of consonantal, + nasal, + oral, + place of consonantal, + vocalic, +_Aryan_. See _Indo-European_. +Aspect, +Association of concepts and speech elements, +Associations fundamental to speech, +_Athabaskan_ languages (N. Amer.), +Athabaskans, cultures of, +_Attic_ dialect, +Attribution, +Auditory cycle in language, +Australian culture, +_Avestan_, + + +B + +Bach, +Baltic race, +_Bantu_ languages (Africa), +Bantus, +_Basque_ (Pyrenees), +_Bengali_ (India), +_Berber_. See _Hamitic_. +Bohemians, +_Bontoc Igorot_ (Philippines), +Borrowing, morphological, +Borrowing, word, + phonetic adaptation in, + resistances to, +_Breton_, +Bronchial tubes, +Browning, +Buddhism, influence of, +_Burmese_, +_Bushman_ (S. Africa), +Bushmen, + + +C + +_Cambodgian_ (S.E. Asia), +Carlyle, +_Carrier_ (British Columbia), +Case, + See _Attribution_; _Object_; _Personal relations_; _Subject_. +Case-system, history of, +Caucasus, languages of, +Celtic. See _Celts_. +_Celtic_ languages, +Celts, + Brythonic, +"Cerebral" articulations, +Chaucer, English of, +_Chimariko_ (N. California), +_Chinese_: + absence of affixes, + analytic character, + attribution, + compounds, + grammatical concepts illustrated, + influence, + "inner form,", + pitch accent, + radical words, + relational use of material words, + sounds, + stress, + structure, + style, + survivals, morphological, + symbolism, + verse, + word duplication, + word order, +_Chinook_ (N. Amer.), +_Chipewyan_ (N. Amer.), + C. Indians, +Chopin, +Christianity, influence of, +Chukchi, +Classification: + of concepts, rigid, + of linguistic types, + See _Structure, linguistic_. +"Clicks," +Composition, + absence of, in certain languages, + types of, + word order as related to, +Concepts, +Concepts, grammatical: + analysis of, in sentence, + classification of, + concrete, + concrete relational, + concreteness in, varying degree of, + derivational, + derivational, abstract, + essential, + grouping of, non-logical, + lack of expression of certain, + pure relational, + radical, + redistribution of, + relational, + thinning-out of significance of, + types of, + typical categories of, + See _Structure, linguistic_. +Concord, +Concrete concepts. See _Concepts_. +Conflict, +Consonantal change, +Consonants, + combinations of, +Coördinate sentences, +_Corean_, +Croce, Benedetto, +Culture, + language and, + language as aspect of, + language, race and, + reflection of history of, in language, +Culture areas, + + +D + +_Danish_, +Demonstrative ideas, +Dental articulations, +Derivational concepts. See _Concepts_. +Determinative structure, +Dialects: + causes of, + compromise between, + distinctness of, + drifts in, diverging, + drifts in, parallel, + splitting up of, + unity of, +Diffusion, morphological, +Diphthongs, +Drift, linguistic, + components of, + determinants of, in English, + direction of, + direction of, illustrated in English, + examples of general, in English, + parallelisms in, + speed of, + See _Phonetic Law_; _Phonetic processes_. +Duplication of words, +_Dutch_, + + +E + +Elements of speech, +Emotion, expression of: + involuntary, + linguistic, +_English_: + agentive suffix, + analogical leveling, + analytic tendency, + animate and inanimate, + aspect, + attribution, + case, history of, + compounds, + concepts, grammatical, in sentence, + concepts, passage of concrete into derivational, + consonantal change, + culture of speakers of, + desire, expression of, + diminutive suffix, + drift, + duplication, word, + esthetic qualities, + feeling-tone, + form, word, + French influence on, + function and form, + fusing and juxtaposing, + gender, + Greek influence on, + influence of, + influence on, morphological, lack of deep, + interrogative words, + invariable words, tendency to, + infixing, + Latin influence on, + loan-words, + modality, + number, + order, word, + parts of speech, + patterning, formal, + personal relations, + phonetic drifts, history of, + phonetic leveling, + phonetic pattern, + plurality, + race of speakers of, + reference, definiteness of, + relational words, + relations, genetic, + rhythm, + sentence, analysis of, + sentence, dependence of word on, + sound-imitative words, + sounds, + stress and pitch, + structure, + survivals, morphological, + symbolism, + syntactic adhesions, + syntactic values, transfer of, + tense, + verb, syntactic relations of, + verse, + vocalic change, + word and element, analysis of, +_English, Middle_, +English people, +_Eskimo_, +Eskimos, +_Ewe_ (Guinea coast, Africa), +Expiratory sounds, +"Explosives," + + +F + +Faucal position, +Feeling-tones of words, +Fijians, +_Finnish_, +Finns, +_Flemish_, +"Foot, feet" (English), history of, +Form, cultural, + feeling of language for, + "inner," +Form, linguistic: + conservatism of, + differences of, mechanical origin of, + elaboration of, reasons for, + function and, independence of, + grammatical concepts embodied in, + grammatical processes embodying, + permanence of different aspects of, relative, + twofold consideration of, + See _Structure, linguistic_. +Form-classes, + See _Gender_. +Formal units of speech, +"Formlessness, inner," +_Fox_ (N. Amer.), +_French_: + analytical tendency, + esthetic qualities, + gender, + influence, + order, word, + plurality, + sounds, + sounds as words, single, + stress, + structure, + tense forms, + verse, +French, Norman, +French people, +Freud, +Fricatives, +_Frisian_, +_Ful_ (Soudan), +Function, independence of form and, +Functional units of speech, +Fusion, +Fusional languages, + See _Fusion_. +Fusional-agglutinative, +Fusional-isolating, +"Fuss, Füsse" (German), history of, + + +G + +_Gaelic_, +Gender, +_German_: + French influence on, + grammatical + concepts in sentence, + Latin influence on, + phonetic drifts, history of, + plurality, + relations, + sound-imitative words, + sounds, + tense forms, + "umlaut," + unanalyzable words, resistance to, +_German, High_, +_German, Middle High_, +_German, Old High_, +_Germanic_ languages, +_Germanic, West_, +Germans, +Gesture languages, +Ginneken, Jac van, +Glottal cords, + action of, +Glottal stop, +_Gothic_, +Grammar, +Grammatical element, +Grammatical concepts. See _Concepts, grammatical_. +Grammatical processes: + classified by, languages, + particular, development by each language of, + types of, + variety of, use in one language of, +_Greek_, dialectic history of, +_Greek, classical_: + affixing, + compounds, + concord, + infixing, + influence, + pitch accent, + plurality, + reduplicated perfects, + stress, + structure, + synthetic character, + verse, +_Greek, modern_, + + +H + +_Haida_ (British Columbia), +_Hamitic_ languages (N. Africa), +_Hausa_ (Soudan), +_Hebrew_, +Heine, +Hesitation, +History, linguistic, +_Hokan_ languages (N. Amer.), +_Hottentot_ (S. Africa), +Hudson, W.H., +Humming, +_Hupa_ (N. California), +Hupa Indians, + + +I + +_Icelandic, Old_, +India, languages of, +Indians, American, languages of, + See also _Algonkin_; _Athabaskan_; _Chimariko_; _Chinook_; _Eskimo_; + _Fox_; _Haida_; _Hokan_; _Hupa_; _Iroquois_; _Karok_; _Kwakiutl_; + _Nahuatl_; _Nass_; _Navaho_; _Nootka_; _Ojibwa_; _Paiute_; + _Sahaptin_; _Salinan_; _Shasta_; _Siouan_; _Sioux_; _Takelma_; + _Tlingit_; _Tsimshian_; _Washo_; _Yana_; _Yokuts_; _Yurok_. +_Indo-Chinese_ languages, +_Indo-European_, +_Indo-Iranian_ languages, +Infixes, +Inflection. See _Inflective languages_. +Inflective languages, +Influence: + cultural, reflected in language, + morphological, of alien language, + phonetic, of alien language, +Inspiratory sounds, +Interjections, +Irish, +_Irish_, +_Iroquois_ (N. Amer.), +Isolating languages, +_Italian_, +"Its," history of, + + +J + +_Japanese_, +Jutes, +Juxtaposing. See _Agglutination_. + + +K + +_Karok_ (N. California), + K. Indians, +_Khmer_. See _Cambodgian_. +Knowledge, source of, as grammatical category, +_Koine_, +_Kwakiutl_ (British Columbia), + + +L + +Labial trills, +Language: + associations in, + associations underlying elements of, + auditory cycle in, + concepts expressed in, + a cultural function, + definition of, + diversity of, + elements of, + emotion expressed in, + feeling-tones in, + grammatical concepts of, + grammatical processes of, + historical aspects of, + imitations of sounds, not evolved from, + influences on, exotic, + interjections, not evolved from, + literature and, + modifications and transfers of typical form of, + an "overlaid" function, + psycho-physical basis of, + race, culture and, + simplification of experience in, + sounds of, + structure of, + thought and, + universality of, + variability of, + volition expressed in, +Larynx, +Lateral sounds, +_Latin_: + attribution, + concord, + infixing, + influence of, + objective _-m_, + order of words, + plurality, + prefixes and suffixes, + reduplicated perfects, + relational concepts expressed, + sentence-word, + sound as word in, single, + structure, + style, + suffixing character, + syntactic nature of sentence, + synthetic character, + verse, + word and element in, analysis of, +_Lettish_, +Leveling, phonetic, + See _Analogical leveling_. +Lips, + action of, +Literature: + compensations in, formal, + language and, + levels in, linguistic, + medium of, language as, + science and, +Literature, determinants of: + linguistic, + metrical, + morphological, + phonetic, +_Lithuanian_, +Localism, +Localization of speech, +_Loucheux_ (N. Amer.), + L. Indians, +Lungs, +Luther, German of, + + +M + +_Malay_, + M. race, +_Malayan_, +_Malayo-Polynesian_ languages, +_Manchu_, +_Manx_, +"Maus, Mäuse" (German), history of, +Mediterranean race, +_Melanesian_ languages, +Meter. See _Verse_. +Milton, +Mixed-relational languages, + complex, + simple, +Modality, +_Mon-Khmer_ (S.E. Asia), +Moore, George, +Morphological features, diffusion of, +Morphology. See _Structure, linguistic_. +"Mouse, mice" (English), history of, +_Munda_ languages (E. India), +Murmuring, +Mutation, vocalic, + + +N + +_Nahuatl_ (Mexico), +Nasal sounds, +"Nasal twang," +Nasalized stops, +_Nass_ (British Columbia), +Nationality, +_Navaho_ (Arizona, New Mexico), + N. Indians, +Nietzsche, +_Nootka_ (Vancouver Id.), +Nose, + action of, +Noun, +Nouns, classification of, +Number, + See _Plurality_. + + +O + +Object, + See _Personal relations_. +_Ojibwa_ (N, Amer.), +Onomatopoetic theory of origin of speech, +Oral sounds, +Order, word, + composition as related to, + fixed, English tendency, + sentence molded by, + significance of, fundamental, +Organs of speech, + action of, + + +P + +_Paiute_ (N. Amer.), +Palate, + action of soft, + articulations of, +_Pali_ (India), +_Papuan_ languages, +Papuans, +Parts of speech, +Pattern: + formal, + phonetic, +_Persian_, +Person, +Personal relations, +Phonetic adaptation, +Phonetic diffusion, +Phonetic law: + basis of, + direction of, + examples of, + influence of, on morphology, + influence of morphology on, + regularity of, + significance of, + spread of, slow, + See _Leveling, phonetic_; _Pattern, phonetic_. +Phonetic processes, + form caused by, differences of, + parallel drifts in, +Pitch, grammatical use of, + metrical use of, + production of, + significant differences in, +Plains Indians, gesture language of, +"Plattdeutsch," +Plurality: + classification of concept of, variable, + a concrete relational category, + a derivational or radical concept, + expression of, multiple, + See _Number_. +Poles, +_Polynesian_, +Polynesians, +Polysynthetic languages, +_Portuguese_, +Predicate, +Prefixes, +Prefixing languages, +Preposition, +Psycho-physical aspect of speech, +Pure-relational languages, + complex, + simple, + + +Q + +Qualifying concepts. See _Concepts, derivational_. +Quality: + of speech sounds, + of individual's voice, +Quantity of speech sounds, + + +R + +Race, + language and, lack of correspondence between, + language and, theoretical relation between, + language as correlated with, English, + language, culture and, correspondence between, + language, culture and, independence of, +Radical concepts. See _Concepts_. +Radical element, +Radical word, +"Reading from the lips," +Reduplication, +Reference, definite and indefinite, +Repetition of stem, + See _Reduplication_. +Repression of impulse, +Rhyme, +Rolled consonants, +_Romance_ languages, +Root, +_Roumanian_, +Rounded vowels, +_Russian_, + + +S + +_Sahaptin_ languages (N. Amer.), +_Salinan_ (S.W. California), +_Sanskrit_ (India), +Sarcee Indians, +_Saxon_: + _Low_, + _Old_, + _Upper_, +Saxons, +_Scandinavian_, + See _Danish_; _Icelandic_; _Swedish_. +Scandinavians, +Scotch, +_Scotch, Lowland_, +_Semitic languages_, +Sentence, + binding words into, methods of, + stress in, influence of, + word-order in, +Sequence. See _Order of words_. +Shakespeare: + art of, + English of, +_Shasta_ (N. California), +_Shilh_ (Morocco), +_Shilluk_ (Nile headwaters), +_Siamese_, +Singing, +_Siouan_ languages (N. Amer.), +_Sioux_ (Dakota), +_Slavic_ languages, +Slavs, +_Somali_ (E. Africa), +_Soudanese_ languages, +Sound-imitative words, +Sounds of speech, + adjustments involved in, muscular, + adjustments involved in certain, inhibition of, + basic importance of, + classification of, + combinations of, + conditioned appearance of, + dynamics of, + illusory feelings in regard to, + "inner" or "ideal" system of, + place in phonetic pattern of, + production of, + values of, psychological, + variability of, +_Spanish_, +Speech. See _Language_. +Spirants, +Splitting of sounds, +Stem, +Stock, linguistic, +Stopped consonants (_or_ stops), +Stress. See _Accent_. +Structure, linguistic, + conservatism of, + differences of, + intuitional forms of, +Structure, linguistic, types of: + classification of, by character of concepts, + by degree of fusion, + by degree of synthesis, + by formal processes, + from threefold standpoint, + into "formal" and "formless," + classifying, difficulties in, + examples of, + mixed, + reality of, + validity of conceptual, historical test of, +Style, +Subject, + See _Personal relations_. +Subject of discourse, +Suffixes, +Suffixing, +Suffixing languages, +Survivals, morphological, +_Swedish_, +Swinburne, +Swiss, French, +Syllabifying, +Symbolic languages, +Symbolic processes, +Symbolic-fusional, +Symbolic-isolating, +Symons, +Syntactic adhesions, +Syntactic relations: + primary methods of expressing, + transfer of values in, + See _Concepts, relational_; _Concord_; _Order, word_; _Personal + relations_; _Sentence_. +Synthetic tendency, + + +T + +_Takelma_ (S.W. Oregon), +Teeth, + articulations of, +Telegraph code, +Temperament, +Tense, +Teutonic race. See _Baltic race_. +Thinking, types of, +Thought, relation of language to, +Throat, + articulations of, +_Tibetan_, +Time. See _Tense_. +_Tlingit_ (S. Alaska), + T. Indians, +Tongue, + action of, +Transfer, types of linguistic, +Trills, +_Tsimshian_ (British Columbia), + See _Nass_. +_Turkish_, +Types, linguistic, change of, + See _Structure, linguistic_. + + +U + +_Ugro-Finnic_, +"Umlaut." See _Mutation, vocalic_. +United States: + culture in, + race in, +_Ural-Altaic_ languages, +Uvula, + + +V + +Values: + "hesitation," + morphologic, + phonetic, + variability in, of components of drift, +Variations, linguistic: + dialect, + historical, + individual, +Verb, + syntactic relations expressed in, +Verhaeren, +Verse: + accentual, + linguistic determinants of, + quantitative, + syllabic, +Vocalic change, + See _Mutation, vocalic_. +Voice, production of, +Voiced sounds, +Voiceless: + laterals, + nasals, + sounds, + trills, + vowels, +"Voicelessness," production of, +Volition expressed in speech, +Vowels, + + +W + +Walking, a biological function, +_Washo_ (Nevada), +_Welsh_, +Westermann, D., +Whisper, +Whitman, +"Whom," use and drift of, +Word, + definition of, + syntactic origin of complex, + "twilight" type of, + types of, formal, +Written language, + + +Y + +_Yana_ (N. California), +_Yiddish_, +_Yokuts_ (S. California), +_Yurok_ (N.W. California), + Y. Indians, + + +Z + +_Zaconic_ dialect of Greek, + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Language, by Edward Sapir + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12629 *** |