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 ON TUB 
 
 OEIGIN OF LANGUAGE.
 
 ON THE 
 
 ORIGIN OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 HENSLEIGH WEDGWOOD, 
 
 LATE FELLOW OF CHBIST'S COLL., CAMBKIDGE. 
 
 LONDON : 
 N. TEUBNEE & CO., 60, PATEENOSTEE EOW. 
 
 1866. 
 
 lAU rights reserved.']
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. INTRODUCTORY 
 
 II. ONOMATOrCEIA 
 
 III. IXTERJECTIOXS 
 
 IV, ANALOGY 
 
 V CONCLUSION 
 
 APPENDIX I. 
 APPENDIX II. 
 
 . . . . J. 
 
 16 
 
 47 
 
 101 
 
 12G 
 
 156 
 
 164
 
 ON THE 
 
 OEIGIN OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 CHAPTEH I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 The speech of Man in his mother-tongue is not, 
 like the song of birds, an instinct implanted by 
 nature in the constitution of every individual of 
 the species^ and either exercised from the moment 
 of birth or spontaneously called into play at a cer- 
 tain period of growth. If that were so the same 
 language would be spoken by all mankind, in the 
 same way that the same species of bird utters the 
 same notes in the most distant countries, and the 
 song of the lark in Germany or Italy is not dis- 
 tinguishable from that which trills from the Eng- 
 lish skies. But Man speaks a thousand different 
 
 dialects, the use of which is acquired in infancy 
 1
 
 4, LANGUAGE AX ACQUIRED ART. 
 
 by tlie same gradual process as the practice of a 
 mechanical art, from the speech of those in whose 
 care the infant is placed ; and where he is cut off 
 by natural deafness from the influence of their 
 speech, he originates no language of his own, but 
 grows up dumb as well as deaf. 
 
 Thus language in its actual condition is an art, 
 like baking or weaving, handed down from genera- 
 tion to generation, and when we would trace up- 
 wards to its origin the pedigree of this grand dis- 
 tinction between man and the brute creation, we 
 must either suppose that the line of tradition has 
 been absolutely endless, that there never was a 
 period at Avhich the family of man M^as not to be 
 found on earth, speaking a language bequeathed 
 to him by his ancestors, or we must at last arrive at 
 a feneration Avhich was not tauo-ht their language 
 by their parents. The question then arises, how 
 did the generation, in which language was origin- 
 ally developed, attain so valuable an art ? Must 
 we suppose that our first parents were super- 
 naturally endowed with the power of speaking 
 and understanding a definite language, which, 
 was transmitted in natural course to their de- 
 scendants, and was variously modified in different 
 lines of descent through countless ages, during
 
 QUESTION STATED. 6 
 
 wliich the race of man sjjread over tlie earth in 
 separate families of people, until languages were 
 produced between which, as at present, no cog- 
 nizable relation can be traced ? 
 
 Or is it possible^ among the principles recog- 
 nized as having contributed elements more or 
 less abundant in every known language, to indi- 
 cate a sufficient cause for the entire origination 
 of language in a generation of men who had not 
 yet acquired the command of that great instru- 
 ment of thought, though in every natural capacity 
 the same as ourselves ? 
 
 When the question is brought to this definite 
 stage, the same step will be gained in the science 
 of language which was made in geology, when it 
 was recognized that the phenomena of the science 
 must be explained by the action of powers, such as 
 are known to be active at the present day in" 
 working changes on the structure of the earth. 
 The investigator of speech must accept as his start- 
 inff-ffround the existence of man as vet with- 
 out knowledge of language, but endowed witli 
 intellectual powers and command of his bodil}' 
 frame, such as we ourselves are conscious of pos- 
 sessing, in the same way that the geologist takes 
 his stand on the fact of a globe composed of lands 
 1*
 
 4 PARADOX 
 
 and seas subjected as at the present day to the 
 influence of rains and tides, tempests, frosts, earth- 
 quakes, and subterranean fires. 
 
 A preliminary objection to the supposition of 
 any natural origin of language has been raised by 
 the modern German school of philosophers, whose 
 theory leads them to deny the possibility of man 
 having ever existed in a state of mutism. " Man 
 is only man by speech," says W. v. Humboldt, 
 "but in order to discover speech he must already 
 be man." And Max Miiller, who cites the" epigram, 
 adopts the opinion it expresses. " Philosophers," 
 he says (Lectures on the Science of Language, p. 
 347), " who imagine that the first man though 
 left to himself would gradually have emerged 
 from a state of mutism and have invented words 
 for every new conception that arose in his mind, 
 forget that man could not by his own power have 
 acquired the faculty of speech, which is the dis- 
 tinctive character of mankind, unattained and un- 
 attainable by the mute creation." The supposed 
 difficulty is altogether a fallacy arising from a 
 confusion between the faculty of speech and the 
 actual knowledge of language. 
 
 The possession of the faculty of speech means 
 only that man is rendered capable of speech by
 
 OF HUMBOLDT. O 
 
 the original constitution of his mind and physical 
 frame, as a bird of flying by the possession of 
 wings ; but inasmucb as man does not learn to 
 speak as a bird to fly by the instinctive exercise 
 of the proper organ, it becomes a legitimate object 
 of inquiry how the skilled use of the tongue was 
 originally acquired. 
 
 It is surprising that any one should have stuck 
 at the German paradox, in the face of the patent 
 fact that we all are born in a state of mutism, and 
 gradually acquire the use of language from inter- 
 course with those around us. The case of those 
 born deaf is still more striking, who remain in a 
 stat e of m utism jntil they have the good fortune 
 to meet with skilled teachers, by whom they may 
 be taught not only to express their thoughts by 
 means of manual signs, but also to speak intel- 
 ligibly notwithstanding the disadvantage of not 
 hearing their own voice. 
 
 Since then it is matter of fact that individuals 
 are found by no means wanting in intelligence 
 who only attain the use of speech in mature life, 
 and others who never attain it at all, it is plain 
 that there can be no metaphysical objection to the 
 supposition that the family of man was in exist- 
 ence at a period when the use of language was
 
 6 
 
 THEORY OF A 
 
 wholly unknown. IIow man in so im23erfect a 
 state could manage to support himself and main- 
 tain his ground against the wild beasts is a ques- 
 tion which need not concern us. 
 
 The theory of the modern German school as ex- 
 plained by Miiller (p. 387), asserts that man in his 
 primitive and perfect state had instincls_£if which 
 no traces remain at the present day, the instinct 
 being lost when the purpose fo^_which it was 
 given was fulfilled, as the s enses become weaker 
 when, as in the case of scent, theyJbecoraie_useless. 
 By such an instinct the primitive man was irre- 
 sistibly impjjlled to accompany every conception 
 of his mind by an exertion^^ the voice, ar- 
 ticulately modulated in correspondence with the 
 thought which called it forth, in a manner 
 analogous to that in which a body, struck by a 
 hammer, answers with a different ring according 
 as it is composed of metal, stone, or wood. It 
 must also be supposed that the same instinct, 
 which gave rise to the expression of thought by 
 articulate sound, would enable those who heafdr- 
 such sounds to understand what was passing in 
 the mind of the^^person who uttered them. Thus 
 a stock of significant sounds_ would be p roduced 
 from whence all the languages on earth have been
 
 TEMrORARY INSTINCT. / 
 
 developed, and when " the creative faculty which 
 gave to each conception as it thrilled the first 
 time through the brain a phonetic expression " 
 had its object fulfilled in the establishment of 
 language, the instinct faded away, leaving the 
 infants of subsequent generations to learn their 
 language of their parents, and those who should 
 be born deaf to do as well as they could without 
 any oral means of communicating their thoughts 
 or desires. 
 
 It is sufl^icient to condemn a speculation like 
 the foregoing, that it rests on the su pposi tion of a 
 primitive man with a jconstitution of mind es- 
 sentially differing from our own, w hereas what 
 we re^qiiire is an indication of the process by which 
 language might have come to a being in all re- 
 spects like ourselves. Nor is there any real analogy 
 between the effacement of a sense from want of 
 practice and the supposed loss of an instinct when 
 no longer wanted for its special purpose. The 
 impressions of sense are made by physical affec- 
 tions of certain nerves, as of the nerve of the eye by 
 the stimulus of light, and it appears that when the 
 organ is left for a lengthened period without the 
 appropriate stimulus, its sensibility is diminished, 
 and may ultimately be wholly lost, as seen in the
 
 O A GRADUAL ORIGIN 
 
 case of animals inhabiting tlie dark caverns of 
 America and Carniola, which are universally blind. 
 But if there were an, instinctive connection of the 
 kind supposed between thought and language, it 
 w^ould give the feeling of a necessary connection 
 between the meaning and the sound of a word, the 
 recognition of which would be a practical exercise 
 of the instinct, and ought, according to analogy, to 
 keep it from extinction. It is, however, hardly 
 worth while seriously to discuss the incidents of 
 anything so purely gratuitous as the entire sup- 
 position. 
 
 Many attempts have been made in other quarters 
 to explain the acquisition of language by the 
 exercise of our natural faculties, but generally 
 with small success, from failing to meet with suffi- 
 cient distinctness the fundamental difficulty of the 
 problem, viz. how, antecedent to any knowledge 
 of language, man might be led to signify his con- 
 ceptions by spoken sound, and to devise such 
 modulations for the purpose as to give rise to the 
 same conceptions in the mind of others equally 
 ignorant of language with himself. 
 
 Yet the conditions of the problem are not so 
 remote from all that may be found in actual 
 experience at the present day as we are apt to
 
 TO BE LOOKED FOR. 9 
 
 suppose. "We must only not require too mucli to 
 be done at once. Wc must not imagine some 
 genius of the pristine world conceiving the ad- 
 vantages of a better means of communicating with 
 his fellows, and elaborating a system of vocal 
 signs. 
 
 " If in the present state of the world," says 
 Charma, " some philosopher were to wonder how 
 man ever began these houses, palaces, and vessels 
 which we see around us, we shoidd answer that 
 these were not the things that man began with. 
 The savage who first tied the branches of shrubs to 
 make himself a shelter was not an architect, and 
 he who first floated on the trunk of a tree was 
 not the creator of navigation." A like allowance 
 must be made for the rudeness of the first steps in 
 the process when we are required to explain the 
 origin of the complicated languages of civilized life. 
 If language was the work of human intelligence 
 we may be sure that it was accomjDlished by ex- 
 ceedingly slow degrees, and when the true mode 
 of procedure is finally pointed out, we must not be 
 surprised if we meet with the same apparent 
 disproportion between the grandeur of the structure 
 and the homeliness of the mechanism by which it 
 was reared, which was found so great a stumbling-
 
 10 GESTURES 
 
 block in geology when the modern doctrines of 
 that science began to prevail. 
 
 The first step is the great difficulty in the 
 problem. If once we can imagine a man like our- 
 selves, only altogether ignorant of language, placed 
 in circumstances under which he will be in- 
 stinctively led to make use of his voice, for the 
 purpose of leading others to think of something 
 beyond the reach of actual apprehension, we shall 
 have an adequate explanation of the first act of 
 speech. 
 
 INow if man in his pristine condition had the 
 ame instincts with ourselves he would doubtless, 
 before he attained the command of language, have 
 expressed his needs by means of gestures or signs 
 addressed to the eye, as a traveller at the present 
 day^ thrown among people whose language was 
 altogether strange to him, would signify his 
 hunger by pointing to his mouth and making 
 semblance of eating. Nor is there, in all proba- 
 bility, a tribe of savages so stupid as not to under- 
 stand gestures of such a nature. " Tell me," says 
 Socrates in the Cratylus, " if we had neither tongue 
 nor voice and wished to call attention to some- 
 thing, should we not imitate it as well as we could 
 with gestures? Thus if we wanted to describe
 
 THE EARLIEST SIGNS. 
 
 11 
 
 anything either lofty or light, we should indicate 
 it by raising the hands to heaven ; if we wished 
 to describe a horse or other animal, we should 
 represent it by as near an approach as we could 
 make to an imitation in our own person." 
 
 But gestures are not the only means of imitation 
 at our command, and we are as clearly taught by 
 nature to imitate sounds by the voice, as the shape 
 and action of material things by bodily gestures. 
 When it happened then in the infancy of communi- 
 cation that some sound formed a prominent feature of 
 the matter which it was important to make known, 
 the same instinct which prompted the use of signi- 
 ficant gestures when the matter admitted of being 
 so represented, would give rise to the use of the 
 voice in imitation of the sound by which the 
 subject of communication was now characterized. 
 
 A person terrified by a bull would find it con- 
 venient to make known the object of his alarm by 
 imitating at once the movements of the animal with 
 his head and the bellowing* with his voice. A cock 
 would be represented by an attempt at the sound of 
 crowing, while the arms were beat against the sides 
 in imitation of the flapping of the bird's wings. It 
 is by signs like these that Hood describes his raw 
 Englishman as making known his wants in France.
 
 12 SPEECH A SYSTEM 
 
 Moo ! I cried for milk — 
 
 If I wanted bread 
 
 My jaws I set agoing, 
 
 And asked for new-laid eggs 
 
 By clapping hands and crowing." 
 
 Hood's Own. 
 
 There would be neitlier sense nor fun in the 
 caricature if it had not a basis of truth in human 
 nature, cognizable by the large and unspeculative 
 class for whom the author wrote. 
 
 A jest must be addressed to the most superficial 
 capacities of apprehension, and therefore may often 
 afford better evidence of a fact of consciousness 
 than a train of abstruse reasoning. It is on that 
 account that so apt an illustration of the only 
 comprehensible principle of language has been 
 found in the old story of the Englishman at a 
 Chinese banquet, who being curious as to the 
 composition of a dish he was eating, turned round 
 to his native servant with an interrogative Quack, 
 quack ? The servant answered, Bowwow ! inti- 
 mating as clearly as if he spoke in English that it 
 was dog and not duck that his master was eating. 
 The communication that passed between them was 
 essentially language, comprehensible to every one 
 who was acquainted M-ith the animals in question,
 
 OF VOCAL SIGNS. 13 
 
 language therefore whicli might have been used 
 by the first family of man as well as by persons of 
 different tongues at the present day. 
 
 The essence of language is a system of vocal 
 signs. The mental process underlying the prac- 
 tice of sj)eech is the same as when communication 
 is carried on by means of bodily gestures, such as 
 those in use among the deaf and dumb. The 
 same mental principles are involved in a nod or a 
 shake of the head as in a verbal agreement or 
 refusal. Only in the one case the sign is addressed 
 to the eye, in the other to the ear. The problem 
 of the origin of language thus becomes a par- 
 ticular case of the general inquiry, how it ma}^ 
 be possible to convey meaning by the intervention 
 of signs without previous agreement as to the 
 sense in which the signs are to be understood. 
 To this inquiry there can be but one answer. The 
 meaning of a sign will be self-evident only when 
 the sign is adapted of itself to put the person ad- 
 dressed in mind of the thing signified ; which 
 can only be done by means of some resemblance 
 in the sign to the thing signified, or to something 
 associated with it in the mind of the person to 
 whom the sign is addressed. The only principle 
 upon which the unconventional development of a
 
 14 EVIDENCE 
 
 system of signs can be rationally explained, will 
 tlius be the artificial exhibition of resemblance, or 
 direct imitation of a character by which the thing 
 to be signified is distinguished. If then we are 
 to explain language as a system of vocal signs 
 instinctively springing from the pressure of social 
 wants, we must be prepared to exhibit classes of 
 words taken from direct imitation, and to show 
 how words constructed on such a principle may 
 be employed in the signification of things uncon- 
 nected with the sense of hearing, as taste, sight, 
 and smell, the qualities and relations of things, 
 the passions and affections of the mind and all the 
 varied subject of cultivated thought. But in 
 attempting the task here shadowed out it will by 
 no means be necessary to carry our researches to 
 the extent required by Midler, who in his Lectures 
 on the Science of Language expresses his desire to 
 remain neutral on the question of origin " until 
 some progress has been made in tracing the prin- 
 cipal roots not of Sanscrit only^ but of Chinese, Bask, 
 the Turanian and Semitic languages, back to the 
 cries or the imitated sounds of nature." — 2nd Series, 
 p. 92. To lay down conditions like these as to 
 the amount of evidence required to establish the 
 imitative origin of language is to conjure up a
 
 REQUIRED. 15 
 
 rampart, behind wliicli the old prejudices may, 
 indeed, repose in perfect security. But we cannot 
 suppose that the Creator would provide one 
 scheme for the origination of language among the 
 Aryan nations, another for the Semitic or the 
 Turanian ; and if evidence of derivation from 
 imitation on a sufficiently extended scale can be 
 found within the limits of our own language, we 
 shall consider our case as established, without 
 waiting until some one has been found to execute 
 the same task, in the Basque, Chinese, and 
 Samoiede.
 
 16 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OXOMATOP(EIA. 
 
 The formation of words from imitation of 
 sound has been recognized from the earliest pe- 
 riod, and as it was the only principle on which the 
 possibility of coining words came home to the 
 comprehension of every one, it was called Onoma- 
 topceia, or word-making, while the remaining stock 
 of language was vaguely regarded as having come 
 by inheritance from the first establishers of speech. 
 " OvoixaroTToua quidem," says Quintilian, "id est, 
 fictio nominis, Gra3cis inter maximas habita vir- 
 tutes, nobis vix pormittitur. Et sunt plurima ita 
 posita ab iis qui sermonem primi fecerunt, ap- 
 tantes adfectibus vocem. Nam murjitus et sihilus 
 et murmur inde venerunt." And Diomedes, " Ovo- 
 IxaroTTOua est dictio configurata ad imitandam 
 vocis confusGD significationem, ut tinnitus reris, 
 clangorqno tubarum. Item quum diciraus valvos
 
 A^'I:MAL CRIES. 17 
 
 stridcrc, ovcs halarc, aves f inn; re.'' — Lersch, Spracli- 
 philosophie der Alten, iii. 130-1. 
 
 The principle is admitted in a grudging way by 
 Max MliUcr (2nd Series, p. 298) : 
 
 " There are in many languages words, if we can 
 call them so, consisting of mere imitations of the 
 cries of animals or the sounds of nature, and some 
 of them have been carried along by the stream of 
 lano-uaee into the current of nouns and verbs." 
 And elsewhere (p. 89) with less hesitation, " That 
 sounds can be rendered in language by sounds^ 
 and that each language possesses a large stock of 
 words imitating the sounds given out by certain 
 things, who would deny?" The class of words 
 most obviously formed on the principle of imita- 
 tion is perhaps that which designates the cries of 
 anim.als, the cackling or gaggling of geese, cluck- 
 ing of hens, gobbling of turkeys, quacking of 
 ducks^ cawing of rooks, cooing or crooing 
 of doves, hooting of owls, bumping of bitterns, 
 croaking of ravens or frogs, neighing or whinnj'^- 
 ing of horses, braying of asses, barking, yelping, 
 howling, snarling of dogs, purring or mewing 
 of cats, grunting of hogs, belling of deer, roar- 
 ing of lions, bellowing of bulls, lowing of oxen, 
 bleating of sheep and goats, chirping of sparrows
 
 18 EARLIEST IMITATIO>'S 
 
 or crickets, twittering of swallows, cliattering of 
 pies or monkeys. 
 
 To the same class belong the names of various 
 inarticulate utterances of our own, as sob, sigli, 
 moan, groan, laugh, cougli (the two last originally 
 pronounced with a guttural, as in Dutch kuch, 
 cough ; laclicn, lachachen, to laugh — Kiliaan), tit- 
 ter, giggle, hiccup, shriek, scream_, snore, sneeze, 
 wheeze. 
 
 But the chief point of interest in the cry of an 
 animal would lie in indicating the presence of the 
 \ animal itself, and the earliest purpose for which 
 \ man would have occasion to represent the cry 
 1 would be to bring the animal that makes it before 
 kiie mind of his hearer. If I take refuge in an 
 African village and imitate the roaring of a lion 
 while I anxiously point to a neighbouring thicket, 
 I shall intimate pretty clearly to the natives that 
 a lion is lurking in that direction. Here the imita- 
 tion of the roar will be practically used as the 
 name of a lion. The gestures with which I point 
 will signify that an object of terror is in the 
 thicket, and the sound of my voice will specify 
 that object as a lion. 
 
 The earliest attempts to represent the cries of 
 animals would doubtless, like our actual imitations
 
 NOT ARTICULATE. 19 
 
 at the present day, consist of mere modulations in 
 the tone of the voice without articulate utterance. 
 When I imitate the voice of the cock I do not 
 cry cock-a-doodle-doo, nor coquericot, nor pah- 
 pahahquau, nor aaoa, but I sound the vocal 
 instrument in a way that does not admit of being 
 spelt. And such doubtless would be the nature 
 of the utterance which constituted the first rudi- 
 ments of vocal signs with the primitive man. 
 But in course of time, as the objects for which 
 designations were required became more and more 
 numerous, the necessity of a nicer distinction and 
 an easier pronunciation of the imitative sounds, 
 would gradually lead to the exercise of that ad- 
 mirable apparatus for articulate speech, which the 
 Creator has provided in the tongue, lips, and 
 throat. The deep sounds uttered in imitation of 
 the lowing of an ox would first be pronounced in 
 an inarticulate way with the lips slightly parted, 
 but sooner or later the ear woi\ld catch the dis- 
 tinctness of sound given by uttering the imitation 
 at the ver}^ moment of the opening of the lips, 
 and thus giving it the sound of 71100 or hoo. 
 
 The passage from direct imitation of an inar- 
 ticulate sound, to the toneless pronunciation of a 
 syllable as a conventional sign, may be observed
 
 20 XURSEEY ]SrAMES. 
 
 in our nurseries at the present day. The nurse 
 imitates the lowing of an ox or the bleating of a 
 sheep by the syllables moo or haa pronounced in a 
 tone resembling the cry of the animal, wbile she 
 points to the animal itself or to a picture of it, as 
 the object she wishes to associate with the utter- 
 ance in the mind of her pupil. The use of the 
 imitative tone speedily becomes iinnecessary, and 
 the simple pronunciation of the syllables moo 
 or baa (with or without the addition of coic or 
 lamb, which add nothing to the significance) is 
 sufficient to bring the animal before the mind of 
 the infant, or to make him think of it. Thus moo- 
 cow and baalamb become the names of the cow and 
 the sheep in nursery language ; bowicoic, of the 
 dog. In German nurseries mauhitt is the cat 
 (Danneil) ; icaiihund or iconicoithnnd, the dog 
 (Bremisch TVorterbuch) ; in Swabia mvJi, the 
 cow, m'uh, the goat (Schmid). In Switzerland 
 haaggen is to bleat, ba'aggcJi (in nursery language), 
 a lamb. So in French infantile language coco is 
 an e^^, in Magyar, hil:l;o, in Bavarian, gaggele or 
 gagkelein, from gagk ! gagk ! the clucking of the 
 hen. 
 
 The universal adoption of the principle of imi- 
 tation as the first means of oral communication
 
 MULLER's OBJECTIOX 21 
 
 witli infants is tho best illustration of its fitness 
 for the origination of language in the infancy of 
 man. But it is revolting to the pride of philo- 
 sophy to admit so simple a solution of the pro- 
 blem. " I doubt," says Milllcr, speaking of words 
 formed on the bowwow principle, "whether it 
 deserves the name of language." " If the principle 
 of onomatopooia is applicable anyv/here it would 
 be in the formation of the names of animals. 
 Yet we listen in vain for any similarity between 
 cjoose and cackling, hen and clucking, cluck and 
 quacking, sparrow and chirping, doce and cooing, 
 hog and grunting, cat and mewing, between dog 
 and barking, yelping, snarling, and growling. 
 We do not speak of a bowwow, but of a dog. We 
 speak of a cow, not of a moo ; of a lamb, not of a 
 baa." — Lect. p. 363. 
 
 Now, in the first place, when once it is admitted 
 that any animals are named from direct imitation 
 of their cries, it affords a conclusive argument for 
 the validity of the principle of imitation in the 
 origination of language, which will in no degree 
 be impugned although it may be shown that the 
 names of all the domestic animals are not imme- 
 diately derived from this source. It is only in 
 the first infancy of language that names are ne-
 
 22 SIGNIFICANT NAMES. 
 
 cessarily taken from direct imitation. As soon 
 as language is a little developed, tlie animal may 
 be named from some peculiarity of form or colour, 
 or other physical or moral character, and it is an 
 undoubted fact that many animals are so named. 
 The hare is in Welsh ysgijfarnog, the long-eared, 
 while he was formerly known to our sportsmen 
 under the name of couard, the bobtail, from Old 
 French cone (Lat. cauda), a tail. Of the same 
 signification is hioinij, the familiar name of the 
 rabbit, from Gaelic hun, a stump, whence hun- 
 feaman, a bobtail. The parrot and robin, on ac- 
 count of their familiarity with man, have received 
 names as if they were humble companions of our 
 own species ; parrot from Pierrot, the French 
 diminutive of Pierre, Peter, and Robin, our own 
 familiar version of Robert. Parrakeet is a repe- 
 tition of the same principle from Spanish perri- 
 quito, used both as a diminutive of Pedro and as 
 the designation of a parrot. 
 
 The designation of birds from varieties of colour 
 is very common^ as the redbreast, whitethroat^ 
 blackcap, &c. The screamer, diver, creeper, 
 wagtail, woodpecker, explain their own mean- 
 ing. 
 
 On the other hand, it is equally certain that
 
 NAME FROM CKY. 23 
 
 many names arc directly taken from tlio cry of 
 the animal. lie would be a bold opponent of 
 onomatopoeia wbo denied that Sanscrit Icokila, Lat. 
 cuciilus, Gr. KOKKv^, Germ, kuclihuck, and Eng. 
 cuckoo, are imitative of the well-known cry which 
 we hail as the harbinger of Spring. Midler also 
 admits that Sanscrit kukkuta, Fin. kukko, Esthonian 
 kikkas, and English cock, are from dii^ect imita- 
 tions of the crowing of the bird. The Malay has 
 kukiik, to crow, and the sound is represented in 
 German by the syllables kikcriki ! in French, 
 coqucricot ! or coqnelicot ! in English, cock-a-dooclle- 
 doo ! The Algonquin name of the bird, paJi-paJi- 
 ah-quau, is manifestly a representation of the same 
 kind. In like manner Lithuanian gauJijs, a cock, 
 is from gedoti, to sing, to crow. The root of 
 Latin gallus, Lettish gaiUs, is preserved in Old 
 ]^orse gala, to cry, howl, sing, crow. 
 
 The plaintive cry of the peewit is with no less 
 certainty represented in the names by Avhich the 
 bird is known in different European dialects, in 
 which we recognize a fundamental resemblance in 
 sound with a great variety in the particular con- 
 sonants used in the construction of the word ; 
 English peeicit, Scotch peeweip, teeichoop, tuquheit, 
 Dutch kici'it, German kichitz, Lettish kickuis,
 
 24 NAME FROM CRY 
 
 Swedish koivipa, French dkhuit, Arabic tdhoit. 
 The consonants t, p, /.-, produce a nearly similar 
 effect in the imitation of inarticulate sounds, and 
 when an interchange of these consonants is found 
 in parallel forms (that is, synonymous forms of 
 similar structure), either in the same or in related 
 dialects, it may commonly be taken as evidence 
 that the imitative force of the word has been felt 
 at no distant period. The note of a dove, which is 
 represented with an initial k in Dutch korren, to 
 coo, is sounded with an initial / in Lat. turtur, 
 Albanian tourra, a dove. 
 
 The appropriation of certain verbal forms to 
 represent the notes of particular animals is very 
 arbitrary. The German verb kr alien and English 
 crow are by usage confined to the voice of the 
 cock, wliile the cry of the bird, which we call 
 crow and the Germans knlJie, is expressed by the 
 verb to croak, identical with Gothic hrukjan, to 
 crow like a cock. The relation between the name 
 of the bird and the designation of its cry is better 
 preserved in Dutch kracijcn, to caw or croak, and 
 kraeye, a crow ; Lithuanian kraukti, to croak, 
 kraukhjs, a crow; Polish knikad, to croak, kruk 
 (North English crouk), a crow. In the same way 
 we have Gaelic roc, cry hoarsel}-, and rocas, a
 
 OF ANIMALS. 25 
 
 rook or crow. The syllable caic, by v/hlch vre 
 represent the voice of the rook and daw, shows the 
 imitative origin of the names by which birds of 
 the crow kind are known in many languages, as 
 Dutch ];auwc, kac, Picard can, AS. ceo, E. cJiourjh, 
 a daw, Algonquin " Jcahlcahgee, the raven,^' men- 
 tioned in Longfellow's Hiawatha, Malay cjdgak, 
 Barabra IcoIm, Mantchu IcaJui, Georgian quali, 
 Arsibic ghdk, Sanscrit 7i a ^-a, crow. — Pictet, Origines 
 Indo-Europeennes, i. 474. From the same source 
 is another Sanscrit name of the bird which MiiUer 
 cites as an example of the fallacious derivations 
 of the onomatopoeists. Karaca, he says, is sup- 
 posed to show some similarity to the cr}^ of the 
 raven. But as soon as we analyze the word we 
 find that it is of a different structure from cuchoo 
 or cod;. It is derived from a root rit or km, 
 having a general predicative power, and means a 
 shouter, a caller, a crier. " Kdrava, explained in 
 Sanscrit by kiirava, having a bad voice, is sup- 
 posed to be a mere dialectical corruption of krava 
 or Jcan-ci." — Lect. p. 349. Contrast this with the 
 analysis of Pictet, "who explains the word as kd- 
 rava, whose voice is lid or caio, analogous to huhu- 
 rava, the cuckoo, the bird whose voice is kuJm. 
 The hooting of the owl is a note _that peculiarly
 
 26 
 
 IMITATIVE NAMES. 
 
 invites imitation, and accordingly it has given rise 
 to a great variety of names the imitative character 
 of which cannot he mistaken. Thus Latin nlula 
 may he compared with ululare, or Gr. oXokv^eiv, to 
 cry loudly. In French we have hulotte from huller, 
 to howl or yell, as Welsh hican from laca, to hoot. 
 Lat. huho, Fr. h'lhou, It. gufo, German huliu, uhu, 
 are all direct imitations of the hollow cry, while 
 It. strige is essentially identical with screech in 
 scrcechoicl. 
 
 " The cry of the owl," says Stier in Kuhn's 
 Zeitschrift, xi. p. 219, "ku-ku-ku-wa-i is in the 
 south the frequent origin of the name, in which 
 sometimes the first, sometimes the second part, 
 and sometimes both together, are represented. 
 The Turks call it bai-kush, i. e. bird-bai, the 
 Greeks KtKVjut?, KLKKa(3y], KovKov[3a, KOKKojSari, &c." 
 
 The designation of insects from the humming, 
 booming, buzzing, droning noises which they 
 make in their flight is very common. We may 
 cite Gr. /3o/x/3uAtos, the humble- or bumble-bee, or a 
 gnat ; Sanscr. bambJtara, bee, bamba, fly, " words 
 imitative of humming " — Pictet ; German hummel, 
 the drone or non-working bee ; Sanscr. druna, a 
 bee, Lithuanian tranas, German drohne, a drone, 
 to be compared with Sanscr. dhran, to sound.
 
 IMITATIVE NAMES. 
 
 German drunen, to hum, resound ; Danish dvhn, 
 din, peal, liollow noise ; Gaelic dranndan, hum- 
 ming, buzzing, growling, draimd-eun, a humming- 
 bird. The drone of a bagpipe is the open pipe 
 which keeps up a monotonous humming while the 
 tune is playing. The cockchafer is known by the 
 name of the buzzard in the North of England. 
 " And I eer'd un a bumming away 
 Like a hizzard-clock o'er my eead." 
 
 Tennyson, Northern Farmer. 
 
 It is in this sense that the word is to be under- 
 stood in the expression " as blind as a buzzard," or 
 " as blind as a beetle," from the headlong flight of 
 a cockchafer or dung-beetle, knocking against 
 w^hatever comes in its way. The Welsh chwyrnu, 
 to buzz (corresponding to Swedish hurra and E. 
 ic/tirr), gives rise to chicyrnorcs, a hornet, and pro- 
 bably indicates that G. horniss and E. hornet are 
 from the buzzing flight of the animal, and not 
 from its sting considered as a horn. The name of 
 the gnat maybe explained from l^orsegneffa, knetta, 
 to rustle, give a faint sound, Danish (jnaddre, to 
 grumble. The cricket is named from the creaking 
 sound by which he makes his unwelcome presence 
 known in our kitchens, and he is known in the 
 languages of Europe by different onomatopoeias
 
 28 
 
 IMITATIVE NAMES. 
 
 varying to an infinite extent according to the 
 fancy of the imitation. — Pictet, i. 528. Thus Lat. 
 gryllus may be compared with Fr. griller, to creak ; 
 Breton s]:ril with Norse shrijle and Scotch sldrl, to 
 speak with a loud and shrill voice ; G. scliirke ^vith 
 E. shrike, shriek. 
 
 The name of the marmot affords a striking 
 instance of the way in which etymologists will 
 shut their eyes to the plainest evidence of onoma- 
 topoeia, if they can escape by however awkward a 
 path from such a derivation. If the marmot be 
 watched at feeding time at the Zoological Gardens 
 it will be observed that it makes a peculiar mutter- 
 ing sound which fully justifies the German de- 
 signation of murmelthier, or muttering beast, and 
 the French marmoUe, from marmotter, to mutter. 
 Here we have the evidence of the two languages 
 spoken in the Alps of Savoy and Switzerland, 
 whence the knowledge of the animal would first 
 be obtained, that it is named from the nature of 
 the sounds which it utters ; yet Diez finds it easier 
 to believe in the extraordinary coincidence that 
 the names in both languages should have been 
 corrupted from forms like Old High German mur- 
 menti, miiremonto, or Grisons Diimnont, and ulti- 
 mately from the Lat. mus montanus.
 
 I?iIITATIVE NAMES. 29 
 
 Mr Farrar in his Chapters on Language (p. 24) 
 observes that if the vocabulary of almost any 
 savage nation is examined, the name of an animal 
 will generally be found to be an onomatopoeia, and 
 he cites from Thrclkeld's Australian Grammar 
 Kong-ho-rong , the emu ; jAp-pi-ta, a small hawk ; 
 Jiong-kong, frogs ; knnhal, the black swan ; all 
 expressly mentioned by the author as taking their 
 names from their cry. JSTo one Vvdll doubt that 
 the name of the pelican harong-lcarong is formed 
 in the same manner. Mr Bates gives us several 
 examples from the Amazons. " Sometimes one of 
 these little bands [of Toucans] is seen perched for 
 hours together among the topmost branches of 
 high trees giving vent to their remarkably loud, 
 shrill, and yelping cry. These cries have a vague 
 resemblance to the syllables Tocdno, Tocdno, and 
 hence the Indian name of this genus of birds." — 
 Naturalist on the Amazons, i. 337. Speaking of a 
 cricket he says, " The natives call it tanana, in 
 allusion to its music, which is a sharp resonant 
 stridulation resembling the syllables ia-na-nd, 
 ta-na-nd, succeeding each other with little inter- 
 mission." — i. 250. We may compare the Arabic 
 iantanat, sound, resounding of musical instruments. 
 — Catafogo. The Algonquin 7cos-hos-hoo-oo, the
 
 30 IMITATIVE NAMES 
 
 owl, may be compared witli modern Greek hoh-ho- 
 va-ee, Walachian k/i-IcK-vcike. 
 
 There is so natural a tendency to name an 
 animal, when first w^e become acquainted with it, 
 from any marked peculiarity of cr}^, that it would 
 not be surprising if occasions were found where 
 the principle w^as extended to the human race. 
 Isoyv there is nowhere probably on the surface of 
 the earth a more singular peculiarity than the 
 clicks which characterize the languages of Southern 
 Africa. In consequence of these the language of 
 the natives would appear to the first Dutch colon- 
 ists of the Cape of Good Hope to be all hot and tot, 
 in Dutch hot en tot, whence the name of Hottentots 
 seem to have been given to the people themselves. 
 Dapper, who wrote previous to 1670, asserts that 
 the name was given on account of the lameness of 
 their speech. " In all discourse, " he says, " they 
 cluck like a broody hen, seeming to cackle at every 
 other word, so that their mouths are almost like 
 a rattle or clapper, smacking and making a great 
 noise with their tongues." — Africa, Ogilvie's trans, 
 p. 595. 
 
 In the case of the domestic animals it is by no 
 means true, as Miiller supposes, that names formed 
 on the principle of onomatoj)(i;ia are confined to
 
 OF DOMESTIC ANIMALS. 31 
 
 nursery language. Of course there is no resem- 
 blance between hog and <jrunt, but the snorting 
 sounds emitted by a pig may be imitated at least 
 as well by the syllables hoc'h ! hoc'h ! (giving the 
 c'h a guttural and nasal sound) as by grunt. In 
 evidence of the aptness of this imitation, we may 
 cite the cry used in Suffolk Ju driving pigs, remem- 
 bering that the cries addressed to animals are 
 commonly taken from noises made by themselves. 
 " In driving, or in anj^ -way persuading this 
 obstinate race, we have no other imperative than 
 hooe ! hooe ! in a deep nasal, guttural tone, ap- 
 propriately compounded of a groan and a grunt." — 
 Moor's Suffolk words, in v. sus-sus. Hence Breton 
 Jioc'ha, to grunt, and hoc'h, liouc-'h, W. Jtwcli, a 
 hog, leaving little doubt as to the imitative origin 
 of the E, name. In like manner we find Lappish 
 snorkcscf, to grunt, undoubtedly imitative, and 
 stiorhe, a pig ; Fin. naslda, to smack like a pig in 
 eating, and nasld, a pig. Moreover, although 
 the imitation embodied in Lat. gninnirc, Fr. 
 grogner, and E. grunt, does not produce a name of 
 the animal itself, it gives rise to It. grugno, Fr. 
 groin, Prov. E. grunny, the snout of a pig, and 
 thence groin, iho snout-shaped projections running 
 out into the sea, by which the shingle of our
 
 32 IMITATIVE NAMES 
 
 soiitliern coast is protected. And obviously it is 
 equally damaging to Mailer's line of argument 
 whetlier the onomatopceia supplies a name of the 
 animal or only of his snout. 
 
 It requires only the most superficial examination 
 to discover evidence of imitative origin in the 
 names of horned cattle. The voice of cattle is 
 represented indiiferently with an initial h or m, by 
 the syllables hoo and moo, or haa and maa. From 
 these are formed Lithuanian hiihauti, to bellow like 
 a buU^ J^orse hura, lUyrian huhati, muMti, Zulu 
 hiibula, to bellow, low like an ox. The Greek 
 /3oaa), Latin hoare; to bellow, shout, although not 
 specifically applied to the voice of the ox, are from 
 the same imitative syllable, and there is no reason 
 to doubt that Grreek /3ous, Latin hos, Italian hue, 
 hu {hoo), ox, Norse hu, cattle, "Welsh hu, Graelic ho, 
 j\Ianx hooa, cow, are substantival forms from the 
 same root. In the language of the Hottentots, 
 says Dapper, hou is an ox ; ha, a sheep. 
 
 Again it must be observed that verbs signifying 
 utterance of a certain sound are frequently formed 
 by affixing an I to the imitative syllable. Thus 
 French miauler is to cry miciu, to mew ; heler, to 
 cry he, to baa or bleat. On this principle are 
 formed Old Norse hanhy Swedish hola, Swiss
 
 OF DOMESTIC AMMALS. 33 
 
 hulkn, to cry boo, to bellow, aud tlience ON. hauli, 
 holi, buli, "Welsh hivla, Lithuanian hullm, a bull ; 
 ON. hanla, a cow. In the same way in parts of 
 England to mnUy is to cry moo, to low as a cow, 
 whence mull (mooll), the name by which a North- 
 amptonshire dairymaid calls her cows, and mully- 
 cow, as moo-cow in nursery language 
 
 Thcat rural call, come mulls ! come mulls ! 
 From distant pasture grounds. — Clare. 
 
 Among Swabian children, also, the name of molle, 
 molli, mollein, is given to cows or calves. 
 
 Again, the sound of a loud outcry is represented 
 with an initial g as well as h, as in Greek yoacsi, to 
 cry aloud, to lament ; Swiss (j'aaggcn, as well as 
 haaggen, to low like a hungry calf. German belleri 
 or gellen, hclfern or gclferti, to yelp. And so we 
 have Norse gaula, to bellow, bawl, shout, to cry 
 gau ! goo ! as hanla, to cry hau ! hoo ! Nor can 
 we doubt that this mode of representing the sound 
 of lowing has given rise to Sanscrit go, Hindu gao, 
 ox, German liuh, and E. coiv. 
 
 The voice of a cow is commonly distinguished 
 from that of a sheep or goat in our attempts at 
 imitation by sounding the former with the vowel o 
 or u, the latter with a or e. Thus we have Lat.
 
 34 DOMESTIC ANIMALS. 
 
 mugire, Gr. ixvKaojxat, to low, \xr]KaoiJMi, to bleat ; 
 Swabian muh, a cow in nursery language ; muh, a 
 sheep or goat. In England hoo or moo is used to 
 represent the lowing of a cow, haa, or in Scotland, 
 bae or mae, the bleating of a sheep or lamb. 
 
 While ewes shall bleat and little lambkins mae. — Ramsay. 
 
 The addition of the verbal I gives Gaelic meil, 
 to cry mae, to bleat as a sheep or lamb, showing 
 the origin of the name Maily given in Scotland to 
 a pet lamb or sheep, while in Greek ixrjXov (maelon), 
 a sheep, the imitative form has been preserved as 
 the common name of the species. 
 
 The abrupt sound of bleating, especially in the 
 case of the goat, is often represented by a final g 
 or k in the imitative syllable, as in Swiss huggen^ 
 baaggen, to bleat, whence baaggeli (in nursery 
 language), a lamb ; and Swedish hagge, a ram, has 
 doubtless a similar origin. We have then Gr. 
 fxriKaoixai., Gael. /wp^V/m/, German maggila (Deutschen 
 Mundarten, 3. 486), mehkern^ Magyar mekegni, 
 bekegni, begetni, to bleat as a goat, whence must be 
 explained It. becco, the animal that cries bek, a 
 buck or he-goat. 
 
 The G. hund, dog, and E. hound, can hardly be 
 distinct from Esthonian hunt (in the oblique cases
 
 DOMESTIC AXIMAI.S. 35 
 
 hand-), wolf, the origia of which is preserved in 
 the latter language in the verb hundama, to howl, 
 corresponding to Old High German lutnon, to yelp 
 like a fox, and So. hane, to whine. The same 
 confusion between the two species of animals is 
 seen in the use of the word hiirtta in one dialect 
 of Finnish in the sense of a wolf, in another in 
 that of a dog. 
 
 The nursery names of a horse are commonly 
 taken from the cries used in the management of the 
 animal, which serve the purpose as well as the cries 
 of the animal itself, since all that is wanted is the 
 representation of a sound associated in a lively man- 
 ner with the thought of the creature to be named. 
 
 In England the cry to make a horse go on is 
 goe ! and the nursery name for a horse is geegee. 
 In Germany hott is the cry to make a horse turn 
 to the right ; Jio, to the left, and the horse is with 
 children called hotte-pard (Danneil), hutfjen ho 
 peerd (Holstein Idiot.). In Switzerland the nur- 
 sery name is hottihuh, as in Yorkshire highty 
 (Craven Gloss.), from the cry halt ! to turn a horse 
 to the right. In Finland, humma, the cry to stop or 
 back a horse, is used in nursery language as thename 
 of the animal. The cry to back a horse in Wester- 
 v/ald is huf ! whence houfe, to go backwards. 
 3 *
 
 36 ANSWER TO 
 
 The same cry in Devonshire takes the form of 
 haap 1 haap hack ! Provincial Dan. hoppe dig ! 
 back ! From the cry thus used in stopping a horse 
 the animal in nursery language is called hoppe in 
 Frisian (Outzen), Jioupy in Craven, while hiipp- 
 peerdken in Holstein is a liohby horse or child's 
 wooden horse. Thus we are led to the Fr. hohin, 
 E. hobby, a little ambling horse, G. hoppe, a mare, 
 Esthonian hobbo, hobben, a horse, and possibly also 
 the Grr. itttto?. In a similar manner the exclama- 
 tion huss ! is used in Switzerland as a cry to drive 
 out a dog or to set it on to attack another animal, 
 and thence huss, hauss are used to signify a dog. 
 Miau in Chinese is the name for a cat. ' 
 
 In the face of so many examples it is in vain for 
 Miiller to speak of onomatopa3ia as an exceptional 
 principle giving rise to a few insignificant names, 
 but exercising no appreciable influence in the form- 
 ation of real language. "The onomatopceic theory 
 goes very smoothly as long as it deals with cackling 
 hens and quacking ducks, but round that poultry- 
 yard there is a dead wall, and we soon find that it 
 is behind that wall that language really begins." 
 — 2nd Series, p. 91. " There are of course some 
 names, such as cuckoo, which are clearly formed by 
 an imitation of sound. But words of this kind are.
 
 muller's charge or sterility. 3/ 
 
 like artificial flowers, without a root. They are 
 sterile and unfit to express anything bey o ad the 
 one object which they imitate." " As the word 
 ctickoo predicates nothing but the sound of a par- 
 ticular bird, it could never be applied for express- 
 ing any general quality in which other animals 
 might share, and the only derivations to which it 
 might give rise are words exj)ressive of a meta- 
 phorical likeness with the bird.' ' — 1st Series, p. 365. 
 The author has been run away with by his own 
 metaphorical language. An onomatopoeia can only 
 be said to have no root because it is itself a livinj? 
 root, as well adapted to send forth a train of deriv- 
 ations as if it was an offshoot from some anterior 
 stock. If a certain character is strongly marked in 
 a particular animal, the name of the animal is 
 equally likely to be used in the metaphorical de- 
 signation of the character in question, whether the 
 name was taken from the cry of the animal or 
 from some other particular. The ground of the 
 metaphor lies in the nature of the animal, and can 
 in no degree be affected by the principle on which 
 the name of the species is formed. Thus the 
 comparison with artificial flowers becomes a trans- 
 parent fallacy, which the author ought at once to 
 have erased when he found himself in the same
 
 38 COWARD. 
 
 page indicating derivatives like cucJiohl, coquette, 
 cocJiadc, coquelicot, as springing from his types of a 
 lifeless stock. If onomatopoeias can be used in 
 giving names to things that bear a metaphorical 
 likeness to the original object, what is there to limit 
 their efficiency in the formation of language ? 
 And how can the indication of such derivations as 
 the foregoing be reconciled with the assertion that 
 there is a sharp line of demarcation between the 
 region of onomatopoeia and the " real " commence- 
 ment of language ? The important question is not 
 what number of words can be traced to an imita- 
 tive source, but whether there is any difference in 
 kind between them and other words. The num- 
 ber of words that can be traced with certainty t o 
 the cries of animals or their names is undoubtedly 
 small, although instances may be shown of words 
 formed on such a principle where few suspect the 
 metaphoric imagery they are using. To call a man 
 a coward is at bottom the same figure which 
 Achilles uses when he addresses Agamemnon as 
 having the heart of a deer. Only instead of a deer 
 we now take a hare as the type of timidity, to 
 which the name of coward (signifyin g the bob- 
 tailed) was given, as Reynard to the fox. In the 
 ' Yenery of Twety' the hunter is instructed, if any of
 
 DUPE. 39 
 
 bis jhounds, Hyclier or Bemond, finds a hare, to 
 cry out " Oiez a Bemond le vayllant que quide 
 trovere le coward ou lecourt cow" — Hark to Bemond 
 who has got scent of the bobtailed. — Keliquiae 
 Antiquic, p. 153. Kiliaan in his Dutch dictionary 
 has Kuwaerd, lepus, Tulgo cuardus ; ignavus, im- 
 beilis, timid us. The metaphorical nature of the 
 word was perhaps understood by Bishop Hall 
 when he wrote : 
 
 If some such desperate hackster shall devise 
 To rouse thy harems heart from her cowardice. 
 
 The signification of the word dupe is founded on a 
 metaphor which conveys no meaning to us at the 
 present day. Fr. dupe is a hoopoe, a bird taken 
 as the type of simplicity for reasons unknown. 
 The name of the hoopoe is in Polish dudek, in 
 Breton houperik, both of which are used in the 
 figurative sense of simpleton, gullj dupe : 
 houperiga, to deceive, to dupe. Italian huhhola, a 
 hoopoe ; hulholare, to bubble, dupe, defraud. It 
 is probable that dupe, like Lat. upupa, and E. houp, 
 hoopoe, is a representation of the cry of the bird. 
 
 The principle of imitation is not less obvious in 
 the words which express the sounds of inanimate 
 agencies than in those applied to the cries of ani-
 
 40 IMITATIONS 
 
 mals, and the operation of the principle was re- 
 cognized at as early a period in the one case as in 
 the other. Quintilian instances the words used by 
 Homer for the twanging of the bowstring and the 
 fizzing of the fiery stake in the eye of the Cyclops, 
 and the occurrence of words of such a nature in 
 all languages is recognized by every one. The 
 question as to the imitative character of a word 
 will^ of course, be open to dispute in each particu- 
 lar case, and it may appear self-evident to one, 
 while another may be wholly unable to discern 
 any resemblance in the word to the sound which 
 it is meant to express. Thus the writer of a 
 critique on Wilson's Prehistoric Man thinks the 
 author too partial to the bowwow theory when he 
 finds the mimetic element in laugh, scream, bleat, 
 cry, and whimper. He asks, "What is there in 
 ichimper which is mimetic ? and if simper had 
 been used instead, would there have been less 
 onomatopcoia ? Is rire like laugh ? Yet to a 
 Frenchman, doubtless, rire seems the more ex- 
 pressive of the two." It is not to be suj^posed 
 that language should be the only subject where 
 those who have never studied the matter should 
 at once be able to appreciate the distinctions and 
 relations brought to light by extensive comparison,
 
 OF NATURAL SOUNDS. 41 
 
 but for those who have thus qualified themselves 
 for judgment, none of the forms above cited will 
 cause the slightest difficulty. Nor is it to be ex- 
 pected that there should be always a cognizable 
 resemblance between words undoubtedly imitative 
 of the same sound. There is no resemblance be- 
 tween ^o?{/.' and hang ! Yet the Frenchman uses 
 the one and the Englishman the other to repre- 
 sent the explosion of a gun. 
 
 Cases may, no doubt, be adduced where an 
 orisrin in direct imitation has been claimed for 
 words which can be historically traced to ante- 
 cedent elements, while in other cases the imitative 
 origin is supported on such fanciful grounds as to 
 afford an easy subject of ridicule in an ad captan- 
 dum argument against the general theory. Never- 
 theless it will be easy in every language to make 
 out numerous lists of words as to the imitative 
 character of which there will, in nine cases out of 
 ten, be an all but universal agreement. Such are 
 bang, bump, thump, thwack, whack, smack, crack, 
 clack, clap, snap, rap, tap, pat^ clash, crash, 
 smash, swash, splash, slash, dash, craunch, crunch, 
 douse, souse, whizz, fizz, buzz, whirr, hiss, hum, 
 boom, flop, flap, pop, ring, din, whine, twang, clang, 
 clank, clink, chink, jingle, creak, squeaky tinkle,
 
 4-2 INTERJECTIONS 
 
 rattle, rustle, whistle, whisper, clatter, patter, 
 guggle, gurgle, sputter, splutter, paddle, dabble, 
 bubble, rumble. 
 
 We must remember that tbere is a constant tend- 
 ency in tbe cultivation of a language to the loss of 
 imitative forms. Not only does the imitative force 
 of words become obscured by grammatical inflec- 
 tions, and by conventional applications to special 
 figurative senses,* but as long as it is strongly felt 
 in speaking it gives the word a homely and fa- 
 miliar appearance which tends to banish it from 
 employment in an elevated style of composition. 
 
 The imitative power of words is witnessed in 
 the strongest manner by their use as interjections 
 of sound, when, without assuming any special 
 grammatical form or indicating a relation to any 
 other conception, they are intended simply to 
 bring the sound they represent before the mind 
 of the hearer. 
 
 " Bang, bang, bang ! went the cannon, and the 
 smoke rolled over the trenches." — Read, White 
 Lies (1865), iii. 175. " Hoo, hoo, hoo ! ping, 
 ping, ping ! came the bullets about their ears." — 
 Ibid. lo9. "Haw, haw, haw! roared a soldier 
 from the other side of the valley." " That horrible 
 sound a soldier knows from every other, the thud
 
 OF SOUXD. 48 
 
 of a round shot striking man or liorse." — Ibid. 
 127. " And at it both sides went ding, dong ! till 
 the guns were too hot to be worked/' — Ibid. 126. 
 Ding-dong, for the sound of a bell ; rat-tat-tat, for 
 that of knocking at a door ; tick-tack, for the beat 
 of a clock; pit-a-])at, for the beating of the heart 
 or the light step of a child ; rub-a-dub, for the 
 beating of a drum ; tantara-tantara, for the notes 
 of a trumpet ; thwick-thwack, fOr the sound of 
 blows, are familiar to every one. The beat of a 
 drum is represented in French by the syllables 
 rataplan, rantanplan ; in Piedmontese by tantan, 
 tarapatapan, tarapatan ; in Italian parapatapan 
 (Zalli, Vocab. Piedm.) ; in Spanish taparapatan, 
 tapatan, leading to Italian tappata (Yocab. Mi- 
 lanese), from the last of which we pass to Dutch 
 taptoe, the immediate parent of our tattoo. The 
 jangling of bells is represented in Chinese by 
 tsiang-tsiang, in Manchu by tang -tang ; the clank- 
 ing of chains in the latter language by kiling- 
 kiling, identical with the German interjection 
 kling-kling, which Griebe, in his Germ.-Eng. 
 Dictionary, renders by jingle ! ding-ding ! ting ! 
 From the same imitation is the verb klingen, to 
 clink, tingle, also to sound. The sough of tlie 
 wind to a Chinese ear sounds siao-siao, the lum-
 
 44 IMITATIONS 
 
 bering of waggons, lin-Un. — Miiller, 1st Series, p. 
 368. The sound of a drum is represented by the 
 syllable torn in the Indian name of the implement, 
 tomtom. The same syllable is used to represent 
 the idea of noise in Hindustani tumul, uproar, 
 tumult ; in Lat. tum-nltus, disturbance ; and in 
 W. tymmcstl (pronounced tummestl), a tempest. 
 In a list given by Latham of imitative words be- 
 longing to a jargon spoken by the half-breds in 
 Oregon is turn, a heavy noise ; tum-wata (falling 
 water), a cataract. — Varieties of Man, 322. The 
 same imitation gives rise to Fr. tomher and E. 
 tumhle. In the language of the Gallas hilhila 
 represents the ringing sound of a bell, illustrating 
 the imitative origin of ON. hialla and E. hell, as 
 well as of the word jjcal, signifying a loud clear 
 noise ; a peal of bells, a peal of laughter. It is 
 applied to the clear notes of a singing-bird in 
 Albanian hiWil, Turkish biUhiil, a nightingale, 
 reminding us of Diomede^s " tinnire aves." The 
 Susu (Western Africa) nimnim, to taste (repre- 
 senting the sound of smacking the lips), and Zulu 
 namheta, to smack the lips, to have a taste, to 
 relish, may be compared with Swedish namjiam, 
 a tidbit, a sugar-plum. A similar agreement is 
 shown in Galla djamdjamgoda (to make djam
 
 OF NATURAL SOUNDS. 45 
 
 djam), Magyar csainmogni, csamcsogni, to cliamp, 
 to chew, with the sound represented by these words. 
 In Hindustani the same sound is represented by 
 chaparcliapar . The Turcoman qalahalac^h (F. New- 
 man), Turkish karahalik, uproar, disturbance, are 
 nearly identical witk E. hullabaloo ; Zulu bom- 
 holaza with Gr. ^op^opv^ut, to murmur, rumble. 
 Thus the imitation of natural sounds occasionally 
 reproduces the same or closely resembling forms 
 in the most distant languages. So close an agree- 
 ment, however, between the results of independent 
 imitation is comparatively rare, and the formation 
 of words on this principle is compatible with a 
 total difference in the syllables by which the same 
 sound is represented even in nearly-related dialects. 
 The explosion of a gun is represented in French 
 by the syllable, poufl in English by bang ! To 
 neigh as a horse is expressed by Fr. Jiennir, It. 
 nitrire, Spanish rinchar, relinchar, Swedish icrena, 
 wrensha, German wieheru, frensclien, Dutch run- 
 niken, ginniken, bn'eschen, Lettish stvcegt, words be- 
 tween many of which we cannot catch a glimpse 
 of resemblance, although it cannot be doubted 
 that they all take their rise in an attempt at direct 
 representation of the sound of neighing. 
 
 The use of interjections of sound in German is
 
 46 KATIIRAL SOUNDS. 
 
 very common. The following are cited by Grimm 
 (Grammar, iii. 307) as imitating the sound 
 made by certain objects in falling, whirling, 
 snatching, breaking : phmip, plnUch, hraUch, 
 pafsch, kJahch, witsch, hunch, Idapps, ripsi\ips, 
 schwapps, him, ham, hum, zink, fitsche, fatsche (for 
 blows with a rod), strip, strap, stroll (for the 
 sound of milking), &c. The Bremisch Worter- 
 buch explains kJapp as a direct imitation of the 
 sound of a blow. " He kreeg enen an de oi-en : 
 klapp, segde dat : " he caught it on the ears : 
 clap ! it cried. Kiittner, in his German Diet., 
 calls knack "an undeclinable word that imitates 
 the sound that a hard body makes when it breaks 
 suddenl}^ in which also knucks is usual. Knack, 
 da war es enzwey : there ! ^tis broken. Es thut 
 einen knack : it ffave a crack."
 
 47 
 
 CKAPTEK III. 
 
 INTERJECTIONS. 
 
 From the interjections of sound we naturally 
 pass to tlie interjections of passion, which very 
 unphilosophically have been supposed to exemplify 
 an essentially different principle of language. 
 The only difference is that in the interjections of 
 passion the sense is carried on a stage further, 
 and the intention of the utterance is to bring 
 before the mind of the hearer, not so much the 
 cr}' or other sound immediately represented by 
 the interjection, as a certain condition of the mind 
 of which the imitated sound is the physical ac- 
 companiment. The interjection ah ! is an imi- 
 tation of a cry of pain ; and when I cry ah ! my 
 object is to represent myself to my hearers as 
 suffering pain, that is, to lead them to think of me 
 as suffering pain. The part performed by inter- 
 jections in the development of speech has been
 
 48 ERRONEOUS VIEWS. 
 
 greatly misunderstood, as if the interjection, was 
 itself the original cry characteristic of a particular 
 passion, instead of a voluntary imitation, uttered 
 with the intention of representing such a cry to 
 the imagination of another, and of thereby making 
 known to him the internal condition of the 
 speaker. Thus Miiller says : " Two theories have 
 been started to solve the problem [of the ultimate 
 nature of roots], which for shortness' sake I shall 
 call the Bowwow theory and the Poohpooh theory. 
 According to the first, roots are imitations of 
 sounds ; according to the second, they are involun- 
 tary interjections/' — 1st Series, p. 344. And 
 again, " There are no doubt in every language 
 interjections, and some of them may become tra- 
 ditional, and enter into the composition of words. 
 But these interjections are only the outskirts 
 of real langrua^e. Language begins where inter- 
 jections end. There is as much difference be- 
 tween a real word such as to laugh, and the in- 
 terjection ha ! ha ! as there is between the 
 involuntary act and noise of sneezing and the 
 verb to sneeze." '^ As in the case of onomatopoeia, 
 it cannot be denied that with interjections too 
 some kind of language might have been formed ; 
 but not a language like that which we find in
 
 OF TXTERJECTIOXS. 49 
 
 numerous varieties amonGr all the races of men. 
 One sliort interjection may be more powerful, 
 more to the point, more eloquent than a long 
 speech. In fact, interjections, together with 
 gestures, the movements of the muscles, of the 
 mouth, and the eye, would be quite sufficient 
 for all purposes which language answers with 
 the majority of mankind. Yet we must not 
 forget that hum ! ugh ! tut ! pooh ! are as little 
 to be called words as^ the expressive gestures 
 which usually accompany these exclamations." 
 — p. 369 — 371. And to the same effect he cites 
 from Home Tooke. " The dominion of speech is 
 founded on the downfall of interjections. With- 
 out the artful intervention of language mankind 
 v.'ould have had nothing but interjections with 
 which to communicate orally any of their feelings. 
 The neighing of a horse, the lowing of a cow, 
 the barking of a dog, the purring of a cat, 
 sneezing, coughing, groaning, shrieking, and 
 every other involuntary convulsion with oral 
 sound, have almost as good a title to be called 
 parts of speech as interjections have. Voluntary 
 interjections are only employed where the sudden- 
 ness and vehemence of some affection or passion 
 return men to their natural state and make 
 4
 
 50 TRUE NATURE 
 
 them forget the use of speech, or when from some 
 circumstance the shortness of time will not permit 
 them to exercise it." — Diversions ofPurley, p. 32. 
 When the words of Tooke are cited in opposition 
 to the claims of interjections to be considered as 
 parts of speech, it should be remembered that to 
 say that the cries of beasts have almost as good a 
 title to the name of language as interjections 
 is practically to recognize that some additional 
 function is performed by interjections, and the 
 difference thus hazily recognized by Tooke is, in 
 truth, the fundamental distinction between in- 
 stinctive utterance and rational speech. 
 
 If words are articulate sounds uttered with the 
 intention of conveying a meaning to the mind of 
 others, then 2Jooh ! and iic/h ! by which I express 
 contempt or horror, have as good a right to the 
 name of words as the Latinized terms used to 
 signify the emotions in question. 
 
 The error arises from confounding the inter- 
 jection with the instinctive expression of feeling 
 which it represents in some cases. But the inter- 
 jection ah ! is as distinct from the groan of pain 
 which it represents, as the syllables cock-a-doodle- 
 doo from the cry of the cock, or the interjection 
 haha ! from a burst of laughter. It is not speak-
 
 OF INTERJECTIONS. 51 
 
 ing wlien a groan of agony is wrung from me, but 
 when I imitate a groan by tlie interjection aJt ! 
 for the purpose of obtaining the sympathy of my 
 hearer, then speech begins. So when I am hum- 
 ming and hawing I am not speaking, but when I 
 cry Jiidh ! to signify that I am at a loss what to 
 say, it is not the less language because my mean- 
 ing is expressed by a single sjdlable. It is jDurely 
 accident that the syllables //aha, by which we in- 
 terjection all}^ represent the sound of laughter, have 
 not been retained in the sense of laugh in the 
 grammatical part of our language, as is actually 
 the case in some of the North American dialects, 
 for example, in the name of Longfellow's heroine 
 Minnehaha, explained as signifying the laughing 
 water. In a vocabulary from British Columbia 
 also hihi is given as the word for laugh. 
 
 The principle which gives rise to the interjec- 
 tion is precisely the same as that which has 
 been so largely illustrated in the naming of animals. 
 If I wish to convey to a person of unknown 
 language the idea of a cow, I imitate the lowing 
 of the animal, and in the same way when I wish 
 him to know that I am in pain, or to think of me 
 as suffering pain, I imitate the cry which is the 
 natural expression of suffering. And as the ut- 
 4 *
 
 52 INTERJECTIONS 
 
 terance used ia the designation of animals speedily 
 passes from, the imitative to the conventional 
 stage, so it is with the interjections used to express 
 varieties of human passion, which are frequently 
 used in total unconsciousness of the principle to 
 which their power of expression is due. MuUer 
 admits that some of our words sprang from imita- 
 tion of the cries of animals and other natural 
 sounds, and others from interjections, and thus, he 
 says, some kind of language might have been 
 formed, which would be quite sufficient for all the 
 purposes which language serves with the majority 
 of men, yet not a language like that actually 
 spoken among men. But he does not explain in 
 what fundamental character a language so formed 
 should differ from our own, nor can he pretend to 
 say that the words which originate in interjections 
 are to be distinguished from others. 
 
 To admit the mechanism as adequate for the 
 production of language, and yet to protest that it 
 could not have given rise to such languages as our 
 own, because comparatively few of the words of 
 our languages have been accounted for in this 
 principle, is to act as many of us may remember 
 to have done wlien Scrope and Lyell began to ex- 
 plain the modern doctrines of Geology. We could
 
 A SOUND FOrXDATION OF LANGUAGE. 53 
 
 not deny the reality of the agencies which those 
 authors pointed out as in constant operation at the 
 present day on the frame-work of the earth, de- 
 molishing here, and there re-arranging over areas 
 more or less limited ; but we laughed at the sup- 
 position that these were the agencies by which the 
 entire crust of the earth was actually moulded into 
 its present form. Yet these prejudices were 
 gradually dispelled by patiently working out the 
 problem in detail, and in the same way we must 
 answer such a protest as that of Midler by ad- 
 ducing repeated instances where interjections have 
 unquestionably made their way into the gram- 
 matical parts of language. 
 
 The signification of interjections is of the 
 simplest kind that can belong to words, being dis- 
 tinguished merely by the absence of characters, 
 the addition of which constitutes a verb or a noun. 
 The oifice of an interjection in its widest sense is 
 simply to suggest a certain phenomenon to the 
 thoughts of the hearer, as when I say, Bang ! 
 Bang ! went the guns. When the signification, 
 includes in addition the idea of action, the word 
 becomes a verb, as when I say. Do not bang the 
 door, do not do something to the door that will 
 produce the sound hang ! When the phenomenon
 
 54 VERBS FORMED 
 
 is considered as tlie subject or tlie object of action, 
 it becomes a noiiu, as when I say, He gave the door 
 a bang. This analysis of the verbal signification 
 is clearly shown in the language of the Gallas, 
 where verbs are formed by adding djcda, to say, 
 or goda, to make or do, to the imitative or inter- 
 jectional form representing the sound by which 
 the action is characterized. Thus the sound of a 
 crack is represented by the syllables cacah (where 
 the c stands for a clicking sound) ; the chirping of 
 birds by the syllable iiir or trn- ; the sound of 
 beating by dadada ; and cacak djeda (to say cacak) 
 is to crack ; tirrdjeda or trrrdjcda, to chirp ; 
 dadada goda (to make dadada !) to beat, to make a 
 noise ; djamdjain goda, to smack or make a noise 
 with the mouth as swine in eating, to champ in 
 eating. The German cry of pain iceh ! oh ! ah ! 
 is used in an analogous manner in the compounds 
 wehthun (to do ah !), to do something that causes 
 pain, to ache^ hurt, smart ; weJischreicn, ivehklagen, 
 to cry icch! to lament. In the Mantuan dialect 
 far pi pi is to peep or cheep like a chicken. 
 
 The construction of the word is hardly less 
 evident in such cases as the following, where the 
 interjection is united with the ordinary affixes of 
 verbs and nouns, with or without the cement of
 
 FROM IXTERJECTIOXS, 55 
 
 certain subsidiary particle or consonantal sounds, 
 as ol or el, I, n, z in Greek, ka in the Slavonic 
 tongues. A groan of jiain is represented by an 
 interjection which varies little over a wide range 
 of languages : Greek ovai, Latin vw, It. gnat, Old 
 Norse vei, Danish vce, German n-cJie, icch, Lettish 
 and Illyrian loai. The E. woe is the same word, 
 although it is not used by itself as a simple inter- 
 jection, but has passed on to signify the condition 
 of the person who utters the cry. In the sentence 
 woe is inc I however, we may recognize the same 
 interjectional use of the word as that of hang in 
 such a sentence as, bang I went the guns. The G. 
 well also is used as a noun with the sense of ache, 
 bodily pain, grief, misfortune, misery ; and it 
 enters freely into the composition of other words : 
 liojjficeh, headache; wchmuth, sorrow; ivehklageii, 
 to lament, &c. In Italian we have giiaire, 
 guaiolare (to cry guai !), to wail, lament, howl; 
 guajo, crying, wailing, misfortune, woe ; in Norse 
 reia, ON. veina (to cry vci !), to lament or cry for 
 pain, explaining G. nrinen, to weep, and the 
 Devonshire tcecn, to whimper, to cry. The E. 
 ivail and "Welsh wglo, to wail, to weep or cry, are 
 analogous forms to the lt.gi(aiolareahoYe mentioned, 
 or to Fr. miaulcr, to cry inian. In Lettish
 
 56 FERTILITY 
 
 tcaiman ! Gr. oip-oi ! we have composite forms in 
 whicli the speaker expressly refers the suffering to 
 himself, corresponding to our own analytic woe is 
 me ! ; from whence are derived Lettish waimanat, 
 Gr. ot/xoo^etr, to lament, loaimanas, lamentation. 
 The lUyrian tcaikati, to express sorrow, is formed 
 on the same plan as is//kati, to cry ish ! (equivalent 
 to E. shoo !) for scaring birds ; jauhatl, to cry jao ! 
 alas, to lament ; hulxciti, to cry hii ! to sigh or 
 moan. 
 
 A different representation of the cry of pain 
 gives German ach ! Welsh och ! E. ah ! oh ! 
 Gaelic ach ! och I ochan ! Irish ochone ! Italian ah ! 
 ahi! expressive of pain and grief. Hence German 
 achejiy achzen, Welsh odd, to groan; och, ochan, 
 Gael, acain, a groan, a moan, explaining Fr. ahan, 
 hard labour, pain, toil ; ahancr, to toil ; It. affanno, 
 trouble, grief. From representing the cry which 
 is the natural expression of pain, the signification 
 is transferred (as we have already seen in the case 
 of G. loch) to the sense of pain and grief, in Gr. 
 o.y^'s, and in E. ache, used indifferently as verb and 
 noun. My head aches ; I have a headache. Gael. 
 acaid, a sharp pain ; acaideach, groaning, painful. 
 The utterance of an interjection of pain, wlien 
 standing alone, would indicate that the speaker
 
 OF INTERJECTIONS. 57 
 
 himself was suffering, but the interjection is occa- 
 sionally used in connection with other words 
 which attribute the suffering to a different person. 
 The Latin FTb tihi I is a threatening of woe to the 
 person addressed, it is an indication to him that 
 he may look out for suffering on such and such 
 conditions. Vce rictis ! expresses the sense which 
 the speaker entertains of the wretched condition of 
 the conquered. On other occasions the speaker 
 wishes emphatically to indicate himself as the 
 suffering person, when he expressly mentions him- 
 self in connection with the interjection, as in Lat. 
 Hei tnihl ! E. Ah me! Spanish Ay di mi! 
 After a while the interjection coalesces with the 
 personal pronoun in a single word having the 
 exact signification of the first person present of a 
 verb. The Gr. oijxoi ! or It. ohime ! is uttered for 
 the purpose of leading the person addressed to 
 think of the speaker as suffering pain, or, in other 
 words, the signification of the complex interjection 
 is the same as if the speaker had said, I am in pain 
 or grief, I suffer, I grieve. In Italian the con- 
 jugation is carried through the whole of the singu- 
 lar number : Ohitu ! alas for thee ! thoii art to 
 be pitied! thou art in pain. Ohisc, alas for him ! 
 he suffers. Moreover the form of the expression
 
 58 FORMATION OF WORDS 
 
 ah me ! ov oh'une ! agrees so exactly with that of 
 the Greek verb ayoixai, I mourn, bewail myself, 
 as to afford an excellent illustration of the way in 
 which it is universally supposed that the verbs 
 were really formed, viz. by the coalescence of a 
 root with the remains more or less mutilated of the 
 personal pronouns, w4th or without the addition of 
 other particles significant of time or other inci- 
 dents of action. 
 
 We are taught to regard the Chinese of the 
 present day as having preserved, with little essential 
 change, the condition in which all language must 
 have begun, when every syllable had a separate 
 signification, which was successively presented to 
 the mind in discourse, with no other connection, 
 than the order of utterance. Thus the Chinese 
 sound /«, without any change of form, means great, 
 greatness, and to be great. If ta stands before a 
 substantive it has the meaning of an adjective. 
 Thus tafu means a great man. If ta stands after 
 it is a predicate, or as we should say, a verb. Thus 
 fa ta would mean, the man is great. — Miiller 1st 
 Series, p. 255. 
 
 The sense of the locative case is expressed in 
 Chinese by adding such words as cujig, the middle, 
 or neif inside, as Icuo-cioig, in the empire. The in-
 
 FROM INTERJECTIOXAL FORMS. 59 
 
 strumental is expressed by the preposition y, wliich 
 is an old verb meaning to use ; as xj ting (use stick), 
 witli a stick, where in Latin the ablative would be 
 found, in Greek the dative. At a later stage the 
 subsidiary element is slurred over in pronunciation, 
 and ultimately worn down into the shape of a mere 
 grammatical inflection, while the element signifying 
 the principal object of discourse, with little or no 
 alteration, takes the place of root in an inflected 
 verb or noun. 
 
 However complicated, says Miiller, the declen- 
 sions may be in Greek and Latin, we may be cer- 
 tain that they were originally formed by this sim- 
 ple method of composition. Thus everything in 
 language becomes intelligible except the roots, and 
 the only portion of the problem that remains to be 
 solved is this : How can we account for the roots 
 which form the constituent elements of human 
 speech ? 
 
 Now as far as the root acli, signifying pain and 
 grief, is concerned, it is not easy to see what the 
 derivation from the natural cry of pain leaves to 
 be desired. It is a patent fact that violent pain 
 is accompanied by groans and cries represented in 
 a wide range of languages by interjections like G. 
 xcch ! and ach ! while it is in accordance with the
 
 60 ACHE FROM ACh! 
 
 only principle of language which we do understand, 
 that an object should be named from the most 
 striking sound with which it is associated. If at 
 the present day we had to originate a vocal sign of 
 pain, or had to signify to a person of unknown 
 language that we were in pain, it is certain that 
 we should imitate the cry of a person in pain. 
 Practically we see the principle acted on in the use 
 of iveh, the German interjection, in the sense of 
 pain, while the plural wcheii is typically applied 
 to the pains of childbirth, which are in Scotch 
 called a woman's groaning. Why then should we 
 doubt that the use of the other form of the inter- 
 jection ach ! in a similar manner has been the 
 origin of the root into which we are inquiring ? 
 
 To shut our eyes to the relation between the use 
 of the root ach in the sense of pain, and the aptness 
 of the syllable to represent the natural cry of 
 pain, and to explain the meaning of the root by a 
 hypothetical connection between the sense and 
 sound implanted by the Creator in the mind of 
 the primitive man, would be to reason like one 
 who doubted that the fossils of Monte Bolca were 
 the remains of fishes, which once swam in the basin 
 of the Mediterranean, and regarded them as sports 
 of Nature originally created, as we see them at the
 
 rcii ! I'll ! iiu ! ouF ! 61 
 
 present day, in the rocks in which they are found. 
 
 UGH ! our ! 
 
 The effects of cold and fear on the human frame 
 closely resemble each other. They check the 
 action of the heart and depress the vital powers, 
 producing a convulsive shudder, under which the 
 sufferer cowers together w^ith his arms pressed 
 against his chest, and utters a deep guttural cry, 
 the vocal representation of which will afford a 
 convenient designation of the attitude, mental or 
 bodily, with which it is associated. Hence, in the first 
 place, the interjection ugh ! (in German uh ! hu ! 
 in French ouf !) expi-essive of cold or horror, and 
 commonly pronounced with a conscious imitation 
 of the sound which accompanies a shudder. Then 
 losing its imitative character the representative 
 syllable appears under the form of iiff or hitg, as 
 the root of verbs and adjectives indicating shudder- 
 ing and horror. Thus ur/ or Jiouge was formerly 
 used in the sense of shudder at, feel abhorrence at. 
 
 The rattling drum and trumpet's tout 
 Delight young swankies that are stout ; 
 What his kind frighted mother ugs 
 Is musick to the scdger's lugs. 
 
 Jamieson, Sc. Diet.
 
 62 tgh! ugly. 
 
 In a passage of Harclyng cited by Jamieson it is 
 related how tlie Abbess of Coldinghame having 
 cut off her own nose and lips for the purpose of 
 striking the Danish ravishers with horror, — 
 
 " Counselled al her systers to do the same 
 To make their foes to houge so with the sight. 
 And so they did, afore the enemies came 
 Eche-on their nose and overllp full right 
 Cut oif anon, which was an hougJy sight." 
 
 Here, as Jamieson observes, the passage clearly 
 points out the origin of the word 7igly as signify- 
 ing what causes dread or abhorrence, or (carrying 
 the derivation to its original source) what makes 
 us shudder and cry ugh ! 
 
 Ugh! the odious ugly fellow. 
 
 Countess of St Albans. 
 
 It may be observed that we familiarly use frightful 
 or dreadfully ugly for the extreme of ugliness. 
 The radical syllable is compounded with a different 
 termination in Scotch ugsome, what causes horror. 
 
 The yf/so7»encss and silence of the nycht 
 In every place my sprete made sore aghast. 
 
 Douglas, Virgil. 
 
 From the same root are ON. vgga, to fear, to 
 have apprehension of; vggr, fright, apprehension ;
 
 HUG, HUGE. 63 
 
 ticjglhjr, frig-litful, tlircatcnlng ; nggmmr, timorous. 
 Then as tilings of extraordinary size liave a tend- 
 ency to strike us with awe and terror, to make us 
 houge at them (in the language of Hardyng) the 
 term huge is used to signify excessive size, a fearful 
 size. The connection of the cry with a certain 
 bodily attitude comes next into play, and the word 
 Jnig is applied to the act of pressing the arms 
 against the breast, which forms a prominent fea- 
 ture in the shudder of cold or horror, and is done 
 in a voluntary way in a close embrace or the like. 
 The same root is seen in Dutch Jingghercn, to 
 shudder or shiver. — Kiliaan. 
 
 GR. i3a[3aL ! lat. bab,^ ! pap.e ! 
 
 The manifestation of astonishment or absorp- 
 tion in intent observation, by the instinctive open- 
 ing of the mouth, is familiar to every one. 
 
 I saw a smith stand with his hammer — thus. 
 The whilst his iron did on his anvil cool, 
 JFith open jnouth swallowing a tailor's news. 
 
 K. John. 
 
 The cause is probabl}^ the fact that we hear better 
 when the air which carries the sound is freely 
 admitted within the jaws, in consequence of the 
 internal connection between the mouth and ears.
 
 64 EXPRESSION OF WONDER. 
 
 Hence it seems that when our faculties are taxed 
 to the utmost in the observation of an object of 
 wonder, the mouth instinctively opens in order to 
 catch the slightest sound that ma}^ proceed from 
 the object, and the parting lips seem to give utter- 
 ance to the syllable ha w^hich thence is found as 
 the root of words in the most distant languages 
 signifying wonder, intently observe, watch, ex- 
 pect, wait, remain, endui-e, or (passing from the 
 mental to the bodily phenomenon) gape or open 
 the mouth, and thence open in general. The 
 repetition of the syllable ha ! ha ! gives the inter- 
 jection of wonder in Greek and Latin, (iajiai ! 
 babac ! papae ! The exclamation ba ! is used in the 
 North of France in a similar manner, according to 
 Ilecart (Diet. Houchi), and the same author ex- 
 plains bahaie as one who stares with open mouth, a 
 gaping hoohy. Walloon hawi, to gaze with open 
 mouth (Grandgagnage) ; cshaioi, Old English ahaw, 
 Fr. tbahir, ahatihir, to cause to cry ha ! to set 
 agape, to astonish. 
 
 In. himself was all his state 
 More solemn than the tedious pomp which waits 
 On princes, when their rich retinue long 
 Of horses led and grooms besmeared with gold 
 Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all «^a/;e.— Milton.
 
 EXPECTATIOX, ENDURANCE. 65 
 
 In tlie remote Zulu we find hahaza, to astonish. 
 The significant syllable is strengthened by a final 
 d in several of the Romance dialects (" the d being 
 in ancient Latin the regular stopgap of the 
 hiatus." — Quart. Rev. No. 148), as in It. badare, 
 to be intent upon, to watch, to loiter, tarry, stay ; 
 stare a hada, to observe, to watch, to wait ; tihadig- 
 liare, Parmesan hadacciar, Provencal hadalJiar, to 
 yawn ; hadar, to open the mouth , gola hadada, 
 with open mouth; poucrto hadiero, an open door; 
 Fr. hader, to open (Yocab. de Berri) ; Catalan 
 hndla, Portuguese baJiia, an opening where the sea 
 runs up into the land, a bay ; Breton hadalcin, to 
 yawn ; hada, hadaoui, to be stupified, dazzled, 
 astonished. In France the simpler form of the 
 root, without the addition of tlie final d, gives Old 
 Fr. haer, hater, h^er, to be intent upon, to hanker 
 after, to gape ; houche h^ante, a gueule bee, with 
 open mouth ; hadlcr, to gape or yawn. Abater is 
 explained by Lacombe, " ecouter avec etonnement, 
 bouche beante, inhiare loquenti." The adoption of 
 Fr. ahaier gave rise to E. ahetjance, expectation, 
 suspense, and Old E. ahie, to remain, abide, endure. 
 
 At sight of her they sudden all arose 
 In great amaze, ne wist which way to chuse, 
 But Jove all fearless forced them to ahie. — F. Queen. 
 5
 
 66 ENDrRANCE. 
 
 Chaucer, in his translation of Boethius, uses able 
 in the sense of enduring torments. The same 
 transition from the sense of earnest observation 
 to that of expectation or mere endurance until 
 a certain end, is seen in Latin attendcre, to ob- 
 serve, to direct the mind to, and Fr. aUendrc, to 
 expect, to wait ; and again in Italian guatare, to 
 look, to watch, compared with E. icaif, which is 
 radically identical, and was itself originally used 
 in the sense of look. 
 
 Beryn clepyd a maryner, and bad hym sty on loft, 
 And iceyte aftir our four shipjjis aftir us doith di'yve. 
 
 As the vowel of the root is thinned down from 
 a to / in the series haer, haier, abater, aby, or in 
 Gr. x^'^; x"'^''^) compared with Lat. Jiio, to gape, 
 we learn to recognize a similar series in It. badare, 
 Gothic beidan, to look out for, to expect, await, 
 and E. hide, abide, to wait. The passage in IVIat. 
 xi. 3, Avhich in our version is rendered " do we 
 look for another, " is in AS. "^^ we othres sceolon 
 ahidan." 
 
 HUSH ! HIST ! 
 
 Occasions for enjoining silence would occur 
 early in savage life, where hostile tribes are 
 intermingled, and the safety of the nightly camp 
 requires an anxious look-out for the approach of
 
 SILENCE. 67 
 
 danger. When the watcher first catches the sounds , 
 for which his ear is on the stretch, the rustling 
 of branches, or crackling of leaves under- foot made 
 by the approach of strangers, the low whisper of 
 subdued voices, or the sound of breath, he would 
 give notice to his companions by a whispered ut- 
 terance like sh ! st ! ss ! representing the rustling 
 sounds which caught his ear, while the circum- 
 stances of the case would give the announcement 
 the effect of a warning to keep silence and listen. 
 In a more developed state of language the ex- 
 clamation of warning takes the shape of the in- 
 terjections hush! hist! icJilst ! Gaelic ?^/s^ .' Ger- 
 man 2^st ! Danish tys ! Swedish tyst ! Fr. chut I 
 It. zitto I which may either be used to signify 
 the low whispering sounds they were originally 
 meant to represent, or may be taken in the sense 
 of Peace ! Be still ; do not let your breath be 
 heard ; listen. Thus syllables, springing from 
 imitation of a whispering sound, become the roots 
 of words signifying silence, and the obviously 
 connected sense of listening and thence of hear- 
 ing. The Greek mCfn, preterite (r^diya, to hiss, 
 signifies also, like the secondary form o-tyac^oj, to 
 cry hush ! to command silence, whence o-tyaco, 
 
 Latin dleo, to be hushed or silent. The origin of 
 
 5*
 
 68 - LISTENING. 
 
 our hist ! is seen in Welsh hust (pronounced hist), 
 a low or buzzing noise ; husfing, a whisper, a mut- 
 ter. — Lewis. The Scotch ichish is explained, any 
 least sound. 
 
 Lat her yalp on, be you as calm 's a mouse, 
 Nor lat your whish be heard into the house. 
 
 That such also is the primary meaning of It. 
 zitto is apparent from such expressions as Non 
 fare zitto, Non scutirse un zitfo, not to let a breath 
 be heard, to be mouse-still or leaf-still, as it is 
 expressed in German, not to let such a noise be 
 heard as the rustling of a leaf or a mouse. Zitto 
 is then hushed, whist, silent ; zittire, to be silent. 
 The radical meaning of the Fr. interj. chut! hist ! 
 is apparent in the derivate verb chuchoter, to mut- 
 ter, and a like connection may be observed be- 
 tween E. tchist ! provincially j)ist ! and the pro- 
 vincial whister, pister, to whisper. — Halliwell. In 
 imitative words the form is often varied by the 
 introduction of an / after an initial /.•, h, p, f, with- 
 out change of significance. Thus from forms like 
 whisper, ichister, we pass to German fliapern, 
 flilstem, to whisper, with the first of which must 
 be classed Anglo-Saxon idisj), speaking imper- 
 fectly, and E. lisp ; while Jliisteru leads imme-
 
 SILENCE. 69 
 
 diately to Dutch luystcren, to whisper, and also to 
 listen ; Piatt Deutsch histern, ON. hlusta, to list- 
 en ; AS. hli/st, gehhjst, the sense of hearing. 
 Thus we are. brought round to our own inter- 
 jectional JUt ! synonymous with Jnst ! Even hark ! 
 with the derivative hearken, may be explained by 
 the same metaphor from Old Norse hark, Bo- 
 hemian Itrk, noise, hrceti, to rustle, murmur. 
 
 MUM ! 
 
 The slight inarticulate sounds that are made 
 with the mouth in a half-involuntary way, are 
 represented by syllables like mum, mtik, mat, mus, 
 mu, knuck, gnij, ypv, kiik, kik, from whence are 
 formed words (commonly used with a negative) 
 signifying to speak low or indistinctly, to utter 
 the least sound, then (with ellipse of the negative) 
 to be silent and even dumb. 
 
 The author of Piers Plowman, speaking of the 
 avarice of the monks, says that you may sooner 
 
 — mete the mist on Malvern hills, 
 Than get a 7nwn of their mouths ere money be them shewed. 
 
 Here mum is used in the sense of the least word a 
 person can utter, from whence, by the ellipse of the 
 negative, mum, silent ; mumming, acting in dumb- 
 show. So Latin miissare, to mutter, then to be silent.
 
 TO MUTE. 
 
 The German muchs,Da,msh. muk, a weak lialf-audible 
 sound, with the corresponding verbs, are chiefly 
 used with the negative to signify silence or still- 
 ness. Han gav ikke en mnJc, en kny, he did not 
 give a muh, a kny, not the slightest sound escaped 
 him. Other varieties of the syllable representing 
 a slight sound are shown in Spanish, no decir 
 mns ni chus ; ni mistar ni chistar ; Italian, non 
 far motto ni totto ; Gr. ixv^eiv ixr]T€ ypvC^iv ; Latin, 
 ne mutire quidem, or as Lucilius has it, non di- 
 cere muttum ; Dutch, noch mikken noch kikken ; 
 German, nicht mi.v, nicht kix sagen; Swiss, 
 nicht tnutz thun, not to utter a syllable, to be totally 
 silent. 
 
 From [xvC^LV is formed ixvcrTrjpiov, the secret 
 rites of the Greeks, and thence any secret or 
 mystery, an idea of so abstract a nature, and so 
 remote from connection with sound, as to afford a 
 striking example of the capacity of the mimetic 
 principle. 
 
 From the signification of tlie least inarticulate 
 sound of the voice is further developed the sense 
 of It. motto, Fr. tnot, the least element of speech, 
 a word, and figuratively, a saying. On the other 
 hand, the ellipse of the negative gives rise to what 
 appears exactly the contrary sense in Lat. miit-us.
 
 EIsJO\']MENT. 71 
 
 dumb, as from Magyar kuk, a slight sound, kukk- 
 anni (parallel with Du. kikken), to mutter, is 
 formed kiika, dumb. 
 
 If onomatopoeia can furnish expressions for the 
 ideas of endurance, of silence, and of dumbness, 
 what are the significations which we can reasonably 
 suppose to be beyond its reach ? 
 
 ENJOYMENT AND DISGUST. 
 
 The most universal and direct source of pleasure 
 in animal life is the appetite for food, and it is 
 accordingly from this source that are taken the 
 types used in expressing the ideas of gratification 
 or dislike. The savage expresses his admiration 
 and pleasure by smacking his lips or rubbing his 
 belly, as if relishing food or rejoicing in a hearty 
 meal ; he indicates distaste and rejection by signs 
 of spitting out a nauseous mouthful. Thus Peth- 
 erick^ speaking of a tribe of negroes on the Upper 
 Nile, says, " The astonishment and delight of these 
 people at our display of beads was great, and was 
 expressed by laughter and a general rubbing of 
 their bellies." — Egypt and the Nile, p. 448. And 
 similar evidence is adduced by Leichardt from 
 the remoter savages in Australia. " They very 
 much admired our horses and bullocks, and par-
 
 72 ENJOYMENT. 
 
 ticularly our kangaroo-dog. They expressed their 
 admiration by a peculiar smacking or chicking 
 with their mouth and lips." — Australia, p. 336. 
 
 The syllable smack, by which we represent the 
 sound made by the lips or tongue in kissing or 
 tasting, is used in English, Swedish, German, 
 Polish, &c., in the sense of taste. Dutch smaeck, 
 taste ; smaecklic, sweet, palatable, agreeable to the 
 taste. In the Finnish languages, which do not 
 admit of a double consonant at the beginning of 
 words, the loss of the initial s gives Esthonian 
 maggo, malilxo, taste ; maggus, mahke, Finnish 
 makia, sweet, well- tasting ; malskia, to smack the 
 lips ; maisto, taste ; maiskis, a smack, a kiss, also 
 relishing food, delicacies. The initial s is lost also 
 in Frisian macke, to kiss. The initial consonant is 
 somewhat varied without impairing the imitative 
 effect in Bohemian mlaskati, to smack in eating ; 
 mlaskanina, delicacies ; and in Finnish naskia, Gr. 
 hiatschen, to smack with the mouth in eating, 
 showing the origin of Lettish 7i(ischkeht, Gr. naschen, 
 to be nice in eating, to love delicacies ; nascherei, 
 dainties. 
 
 Again, we have seen that Leichardt employs 
 the syllables smack and clack as equally appro- 
 priate to represent th^ sound made by the tongue
 
 DELIGHT. 
 
 and palate in tlie enjoyment of tasty food, and in 
 French, claquer de la laiujue is employed for the 
 same purpose. We speak of a elide with the 
 tongue, though we do not happen to apply it to 
 the smack in tasting. The Welsh has gwefuMjlcc 
 {gwefus, lip), a smack with the lips, a kiss. From 
 this source then we may derive Gr. ykvKvs, sweety, 
 analogous to Du. smaecklic, Fin. malda, from the 
 imitative smack. The sound of an initial cl or gl 
 is readily confounded with that of tl or dl, as some 
 people pronounce glovs, dlove, and formerly tlick 
 was used where we now say click. Thus Cotgrave 
 renders Fr. niquet, a tnicke, tlick, snap with the 
 fingers. In Bavaria, according to Schmeiler, tl 
 and tn are locally used for gl ov kl and gn, kn. 
 The same combination is found in Bohemian 
 tlaskati, to smack in eating, tleskati, to clap hands ; 
 and Lat. stloj^pus, parallel with sclopus, a pop or 
 click with the mouth. From the sound of a 
 smack represented by the form tlick or dlick I 
 would explain Lat. dclicicc, anything one takes 
 pleasure in, delight, darling ; together with the 
 cognate delicatus, what one smacks one's chops at, 
 dainty, nice, agreeable, as corruptions of an 
 earlier form, dlicice, dlicafns. And as we have 
 supposed Gr. ykvKvs (glykys) to be derived from
 
 74 
 
 DISGUST. 
 
 the form dick or glich, so from tUck or dlick would 
 be formed dlylm or dlukis (dlucis), and ultimately 
 ditlcis, sweet, the radical identity or rather paral- 
 lelism of which with Gr. ykvuvs has been recog- 
 nized on the principle of such an inversion. 
 When the sound of an initial // or dl became 
 distasteful to Latin ears, it would be slurred over 
 in diflferent ways, and dlucis would pass into du/cis 
 by inverting the places of the liquid and vowel, 
 while the insertion of an e in dlicice, dlicatiis, as in 
 the vulgar umherella for umbrella, would produce 
 delicicB, delicatus. It is true that an intrusive 
 vowel in such cases as the foregoing is commonly 
 (though not universally) short, but the long e in 
 these words may have arisen from their being 
 erroneously regarded as compounds with the 
 preposition de. 
 
 POOH ! PSHAW ! 
 
 The attitude of dislike and rejection is typified 
 by signs of spitting out an unsavoury morsel, as 
 clearly as the feelings of admiration and pleasure 
 by signs of the relishing of food. Thus Gawaine 
 Douglas expresses his disgust at the way in which 
 the harmonious lines of Yirgil were mangled by 
 incompetent translators.
 
 DISDAIX. /O 
 
 His ornate gold In verses mare than gilt, 
 I spittefor disspite to se thame spylte 
 By sic ane wiclit. — 5. 44. 
 
 " Would to God therefore that we were come to 
 such a detestation and loathing of lying ihat we 
 would eve7i spattk at it, and cry fy upon it and all 
 that use it."— Dent's Pathway in Halliwell. The 
 Swedish sjiott signifies spittle, and also derision, 
 contempt, insult. The traveller Leichardt met 
 with the same mode of expression among the 
 savages of Australia. "The men commenced 
 talking to them, but occasionally interrupted their 
 speeches by spitting and uttering a noise like 
 pooh ! pooh ! apparently expressive of their dis- 
 gust." — p. 189. It is probable that this Austra- 
 lian interjection was in fact identical with our own 
 pooh ! and like it intended to represent the sound 
 of spitting, for which purpose Burton in his African 
 travels uses the native took ! " To-o-h ! Tub ! ex- 
 claims the Muzunga, spitting with disgust upon 
 the ground." — Lake Eegions of Africa, 2. 246. 
 
 The sound of spitting is represented indifierently 
 with an initial p, as in Maori puhioa, to spit out ; 
 Latin spucre, to spit ; respuere (to spit back), to 
 reject with disdain ; despucrc, to express disgust 
 or disdain ; or with an initial t, as in Arabic tiifi,
 
 76 CO^'TEMPT, ANGER. 
 
 spittle ; Galla twu ! representing the sound of 
 spitting ; tufa, to spit ; tufada, to spit, to despise, 
 scorn, disdain ; with which may be joined English 
 tuff, to spit like a cat. In Greek tttvco the imita- 
 tion is rendered more vivid by the union of both 
 the initial sounds. 
 
 BLURT ! PET ! TROTZ ! 
 
 The feelings of one dwelling on his own merits 
 and angry at the short-comings of another are 
 marked by a frowning brow, a set jaw, and in- 
 flated cheeks, while the breath is drawn in deep 
 inspirations and sent out in puffs through the nos- 
 trils and passive lips. Hence such expressions of 
 breathing vengeance, fuming with anger, swelling 
 with pride ; which is a readiness to take offence 
 arising from an exaggerated notion of our own 
 claims to deference. 
 
 Sharp breaths of anger puffed 
 Her fairy nostrils out. — Tennyson. 
 
 The sound of hard breathing or blowing is repre- 
 sented by the syllables pfiff, hvff, whiffy whence 
 a huff is a fit of ill temper ; to huff, to swell with 
 indignation or pride, to bluster, to storm. — John- 
 son. A representation of an angry whiff gives 
 rise to the Welsh interjection wfft ! (pronounced
 
 ANGER, SCORN. 77 
 
 ooft), explained by Davis, vox abhorrentis et ex- 
 probrantis. ^^ffl, a scorn or slight, a fie ; ivfftiOy 
 to cry shame or fie, to push away v^'ith disappro- 
 bation. — Lewis. The It. buffa is explained in 
 Thomas' Italian Dictionary, " the despising blast 
 of the mouth which we call shirping." — Halliwell. 
 Brescian hofu, to breathe hard, to puif, especially 
 with anger. — Melchiori. Then, as ill-will vents 
 itself in derision, huffa, hfffa, a jest, a trick ; 
 heffare, to trick or cheat ; heffarsi, to laugh at ; 
 huffone, a jester, a buffoon. 
 
 When the puff of anger or disdain is uttered 
 with exaggerated feeling it produces an explosive 
 sound with the lips, represented by the syllable 
 hhirt, which was formerly used as an interjection 
 of defiance. To blurt a thing out is to bring it out 
 with a sudden explosion as if spitting something 
 out of the mouth. A blii't of greeting in Scotch 
 is a burst of crying. Florio explains Italian 
 chichere as a blurt with the mouth in scorn or 
 derision. And probably the expression is often 
 heightened by an unconscious representation of 
 the act of spitting, as when in familiar speech we 
 make use of contemptuous sounds like psh ! tsh ! 
 pt ! which in written language take the form of 
 the interjections jjwA .' psha ! tush ! and the
 
 / O PET. 
 
 equivalent Old l^orse jyutf I Danish, pij ft ! the last 
 of whicli is explained by Ferrall as equivalent to 
 our pshaw, tut, phoo. 
 
 The interjection which we write pish ! psha ! 
 takes the form oifeucho ! fiiclie ! in the North of 
 France (Hecart. Diet. Rouchi), whence are to be 
 explained such expressions as se jiclier de, to treat 
 with contempt; ficlier a la j)orte, to drive out, to 
 send packing ; fichu, contemptible, poor. In Nor- 
 mandy pett I is used in a similar sense (pour im- 
 poser un silence absolu — Decorde) ; pooh, nonsense ! 
 The origin of this form of the interjection is seen 
 in Italian petto, a blurt ; pettcgcjiare, pettachiare , to 
 blurt with the mouth or lips — Florio ; petarade, a 
 noise made with the mouth in contempt. — Sadler's 
 Fr. Diet. 
 
 From this mode of expressing displeasure we 
 have E. pet, a fit of ill humour or of anger; to 
 take pet, to take huff, to take offence ; petthli, 
 passionate, ill-humoured ; Latin petulann, saucy, 
 proud. To pet a child is to indulge it in ill- 
 humour, and thence a pet, a darling, an indulged 
 child or animal. Then as a child gives vent to 
 his ill-humour by thrusting out his lips and mak- 
 ing a snout or making a lip as it is called in 
 nursery language, a hanging lip is called a pet lip
 
 POUT. 79 
 
 in the North of England. To 2'>oiit, or in Devon- 
 shire to poutch or poutle, in the South of France 
 fa las 2)oidos, is to sho^y ill-humoiir by hanging the 
 lip, and thence pouto or poto, a lip. Then (in the 
 same way that It. hiiffa, heffa, signifying in the first 
 instance a blurt with the mouth, are applied to a 
 trick or jest) we have Danish puds, Swedish puU 
 (to be compared with Devon, poutch above men- 
 tioned), German 7WSSC, a trick. The sound of a 
 contemptuous blurt or pop with the mouth is 
 represented by a great variety of imitative forms, 
 most of which have been used as interjections of 
 scorn, defiance, or derision, and have given rise to 
 words signifying derision, cheating, defrauding, 
 tricking. It is in this way that jjo/j came to signify 
 to treat contemptuously, to cheat. 
 
 Do you pop me off with this slight answer ? 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 That is my brother's plea, 
 The which if he can prove, he po/« me out 
 At least from fair five hundred pounds a year. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 In the same way from the representation of the 
 contemptuous sound by the syllable trump, we 
 speak of trumping up a story, trumping a story 
 fraudulently upon one.
 
 80 TRIDE. 
 
 Fortune — 
 When she is pleased to trick or trumj) mankind. 
 
 B. Jonson. 
 
 Hence also French, tromper, to cheat, to deceive. 
 Italian stromhare, stromhettare, to blurt with one's 
 mouth, to flurt at in scorn and reproach. — Florio. 
 Another mode of representing the sound produces 
 the Old English interjections of scorn, Ptrot I 
 Tprotl Prut! the French Trutl and German 
 Trotz I 
 
 The Manuel des Pecches, treating of the sin of 
 Pride, takes as first example the man 
 
 — that is unbuxome all 
 Ayens his fader spirital, 
 And seyth Prut ! for thy cursyng, prest. 
 
 1. 3016. 
 
 Hence are formed the Old English prute, prout, 
 now written proud, and the Northern E. pruttcn, 
 to hold up the head with pride and disdain (Halli- 
 well), which in the West of E. (with inversion of 
 the liquid and vowel) takes the form of purt, to 
 pout, to be sulky or sullen. German protzen, 
 Dutch j^ra if i'<^n, to sulk ; protzig,prat, surly, proud, 
 arrogant. Then as before, passing from the figure 
 of a contemptuous gesture to a piece of con-
 
 SCORN. 81 
 
 temptuous treatment, we have Old Norse pretta, 
 to play a trick, to cheat ; prettr, a trick. 
 
 The Italian trmcare, to blurt or pop with one's 
 lips or mouth (Florio), Fi'ench true, the popping 
 M'ith the lips to a horse, show the origin of Fr. trut 
 (an interjection importing indignation), tush, tut, 
 fy man (Cotgrave) ; as well as of German trotz,, an 
 interjection originally representing a blurt with 
 the lips. Troiz hieten, to bid defiance ; trotzen, 
 to defy, to be forward or obstinate, to pout or 
 sulk, to be proud of ; trotzig, haughty, insolent, 
 perverse, peevish, sulky. — Griebe, Germ. Diet. Du. 
 frofsen, forten, Piatt Deutsch turn tort, daon 
 (Danneil), to irritate, insult. Scotch dort, pet, 
 sullen humour ; to take the dorts, to be in a pet ; 
 dorty, pettish, saucy, dainty. In the dialect of 
 Valencia trotar is to deride^ to make a jest of. 
 
 The analogy of Italian tronfare, tronfiare, to 
 snort, also to huff, snuff, or chafe with anger ; 
 also to trump ; and thence tronfio, puffed or 
 ruffled with chafing, as a strutting turkeycock 
 (Florio), leads us to believe that the represent- 
 ation of a blurt or snort of anger by the syllable 
 trotz is the origin of German strotzen, and Eng- 
 lish strut, properly to puff or swell with pride 
 and anger, then simply to swell or stand out. 
 6
 
 82 
 
 TRUDGE. 
 
 Another application of the interjection of dis- 
 pleasure has been touched on in the derivation 
 of Fr. fichcr a la porte, to send packing, from 
 feuche ! fache ! pish ! pshaw I fudge ! When the 
 superior receives a dependent with an expression 
 of impatience and displeasure, it is naturally- 
 taken by the latter as an intimation to take himself 
 oif. Thus the interjection assumes the sense of 
 Off ! Begone ! giving rise to verbs signifying to 
 make off, to go along as if driven, and to adverbs 
 signifying off, away. So from true is formed 
 Italian truccare, to send, to trudge or pack away 
 nimbly (Florio) ; trucca via ! be off with you. 
 The Gaelic truis ! (trusli) is explained by Macleod, 
 a word by which dogs are silenced or driven out. 
 Trus a mach ! Trus ort (mach, out ; orf, upon 
 3'ou), begone, get away. The same interjection 
 was used in Old English. 
 
 Lyere — was nowher -welcome, For his manye tales 
 
 Over al yhonted and yhote, trnsse. 
 
 Piers Plowman's Vision, v. 1316. 
 To hete trus is an exact equivalent of the German 
 troiz hieten. It is reasonable to suppose that our 
 trudge is another version of the same imitation. 
 
 This tale once told none other speech prevailed, 
 
 But pack and trmlje ! all leysure was to long. 
 
 Gascoisne in Richardson.
 
 FAUGH ! 83 
 
 From the same root the Venetian dialect has 
 trozare, to send away. 
 
 FY ! FAUGH ! 
 
 There is a strong analogy between the senses of 
 taste and smell, as between sight and hearing. 
 When we are sensible of an odour which pleases 
 us we snuff up the air through the nostrils, as we 
 eagerly swallow food that is agreeable to the 
 palate ; and as we spit out a disagreeable morsel, 
 so we reject an offensive odour by stopping the 
 nose and driving out the infected air through the 
 protruded lips, with a noise of which various re- 
 presentations are exhibited in the interjections of 
 disgust. " Feculent, ferruginous, and fuliginous ! " 
 says a popular writer. " How nicely these epithets 
 intimate a specific impression on the olfactory 
 nerves. They have a force exceeding that of ad- 
 jectives, and equal to the energy of interjections. 
 Pifi" ! Phew ! Phit ! They have all the significance 
 of those exclamatory whiffs which we propel from 
 our lips when we are compelled to hold our 
 noses." — Punch, Sept. 2, 1863. 
 
 It must be observed that the sound of blowing 
 or breathing out is represented all over the world 
 by the syllable pu or /n, as in Old Norse pua,
 
 84 FAUGH ! 
 
 Jjettishi ptist (present tense pusckii), Gevman pusen, 
 pusten, pfauaen, pfausten, Finnish puhhatxi, pulilda, 
 puJialtaa, Hawaii pnhi, Maori piipuhi, piihipuhi, 
 Malay p)''P^^^^ Illyrian puhati, Gaelic pnth (pro- 
 nounced ^;?«7«), Englisli pi{(f, Scotch fuff, Magyar 
 fu,* he hXows, fiivni, Galla afufa, to pufF, blow, 
 breathe. Zulu vufa, to sound vk, to blow, to blaze ; 
 futa, to blow, breathe, pufF; jmpuza, to puff; He- 
 brew ponahh, he has blown. Sanders, in his ex- 
 cellent German dictionary, explains pu ! as an 
 interjection representing the sound made by blow- 
 ing through the barely opened lips, and thence 
 expressing (among other things) the rejection of 
 anything nasty. " Ha p)uh ! wie stank der alte 
 mist ! " Spanish 2Mf> P^^-, exclamation of disgust 
 at a bad smell ; fu ! interjection of disgust. — 
 Neuman. Y eneii-Jin puh ! fi! interjection of one 
 who is sensible of something disgusting. — 
 
 * This representation of the sound of blowing or breathing 
 may not improbably be the origin of the root/«, Sanscrit 
 hhu, of the verb to be. The negro who is without the verb 
 to be in his own language supplies its place by live. He 
 says. Your hat no lib that place you put him in.— Farrar, p. 
 54. A two-year-old nephew of mine would say, "Where it 
 live ? where is it ? Now the breath is universally taken as 
 the type of life.
 
 PUTRID, FOUL. 85 
 
 Patrlarclii. French pounh ! Breton foei ! fec'Ji ! 
 'E. faugh ! foJi ! 
 
 Faugh ! I have known a charnel-house smell sweeter. 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 Foh ! one may smell in him a will most rank. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Now it is obvious that the utterance of these inter- 
 jections of disgust is the simplest and most forcible 
 mode of announcing the existence of a bad smell, 
 and if the interjection is accompanied by gestures 
 indicating a particular object, it will be equivalent 
 to an assertion that the thing stinks or is rotten. 
 It will then be necessary only to clothe the sig- 
 nificant syllable in verbal or adjectival forms in 
 order to give rise to words signifying stink or rot. 
 Thus from the form pu are derived French puer, 
 Latin putere, putidus, piitris, while from a form 
 corresponding to Breton foei and E. faugh, foh, are 
 Jjat'infoetere, and foetidiis, fetid. In like manner 
 from the form/^( (often spelt in English phoo ! or 
 phew ! ) we have Old Norse fuinn, rotten ; fiVci, 
 stench or anything stinking ; full, stinking, 
 rotten ; fjjla, stench. In the Gothic Testament the 
 disciple speaking of the body of Lazarus says Jah 
 fills ist : by this time he stinketh. Modern Norse 
 ful, disgusting, of bad taste or smell, troublesome,
 
 86 FIE ! 
 
 vexatious, angry, bitter. Han va ful aat os, he 
 was enraged with us. The E. equivalent is foid, 
 properly ill smelling, then anything opposed to our 
 taste or requirements, loathsome, ugly in look, 
 dirty, turbid (of water), rainy and stormy of the 
 weather, unfair, underhand in the transactions of 
 life. ON. FulyrcU, foul words ; fulmenni, a scoun- 
 drel. From the adjective again are derived the 
 verb to file or defile, to make foul ; and filth, that 
 which makes foul. 
 
 The disagreeable impressions of smell produce a 
 much more vivid repugnance than those of taste, 
 and being besides sensible to all around, they 
 afford the most convenient type of moral reproba- 
 tion and displeasure. And probably the earliest 
 expression of these feelings would occur in teach- 
 ing cleanliness to the infant. The interjection fy ! 
 expresses in the first instance the speaker's sense of 
 a bad smell, but it is used to the child in such a 
 manner as to signify, That is dirty ; do not touch 
 that ; do not do that ; and then generally. You have 
 done something displeasing to me, something of 
 which you ought to be ashamed. Laura Bridge- 
 man, who was born deaf and blind, used to utter 
 the sound j^' or / when displeased at being touched 
 by strangers.
 
 FIEND. 
 
 87 
 
 AVhen used in a figurative sense to express 
 general reprobation the interjection often assumes 
 a slightly different form from that which expresses 
 disgust at a bad smell. Thus in English faugh I 
 or foil ! express disgust, Jie ! reprobation. In- 
 German fuy or fy are used in the former sense, 
 ^;/)</ (Lithuanianj9?M, lUyrian^j/) in the latter. In 
 other cases the original form is used in the enlarged 
 application, as in Russian fa ! Homaunsch fu ! 
 fudi ! fy for shame ! shame on you ! 
 
 The addition of verbal forms produces G.pfuien, 
 l^orsefi/ne, to cry pfui or fy, to express displeasure, 
 to scold; ein fynfe hnnd, a scolded dog. The 
 meaning is carried on a stage further in Russian 
 fuknf, to abominate, detest, and Gothic fijati, ON. 
 Jja, AS. fan, to hate, where the verb expresses 
 the feelings Avhich prompt the utterance of the in- 
 terjection fa ! fie ! From the participle fijand 
 are G feind, an enemy, ON. fjandi, properly an 
 enemy, then as E. fiend, the great enemy of the 
 human race. From the same verb are foe (ON. 
 fiai ?), and feud, enmity or deadly quarrel. 
 
 The aptness of the figure by which the natural 
 disgust at stench is made the type of the feelings 
 of hatred is witnessed by the expression of " stink- 
 ing in the nostrils " said of anything that is pecu-
 
 OO MULLER S OBJECTION 
 
 Harly hateful to us. In the same way Italian 
 puzzar, or t/ifar, to stink, are figuratively used of 
 what is odious or displeasing. " La i tufa fort, la i 
 puzza fort :" that grieves him much. — Ferrari, 
 Bolognese Diet. From the Welsh ffi ! fie ! are 
 formed ffiaidd, loathsome, detestable ; ffieiddio, to 
 loathe, abominate, detest. 
 
 I have dilated at greater length on the interjec- 
 tions of smelly not only because they afford a good 
 example of the application of imitative syllables 
 to the expression of moral feeling, but because the 
 derivation from them of words like fiend s^difoul 
 has been made by Professor Miiller the main 
 ground of his attack on the interjectional origin of 
 language. He argues that if such words as these 
 were derived from the interjection faugh ! foh ! fie ! 
 " we should suppose that the expression of con- 
 tempt was chiefly conveyed by the aspirate /, by 
 the strong emission of the breathing with half- 
 closed lips. But fic7id is a participle from a root 
 ficm, to hate, in Gothic fijan ; and as a Gothic as- 
 pirate always corresponds to a tenuis in Sanscrit, 
 the same root would at once lose its expressive 
 power. It exists, in fact, in Sanscrit as piy, to 
 hate, to destroy." — I., p. 355, If there be such a 
 root in Sanscrit it would tend in no degree to
 
 ANSWERED. 89 
 
 invalidate the derivation of Gothic fijan from the 
 interjection fie ! For it is obvious that the idiosyn- 
 cracy which induces the use of an initial jj» in San- 
 scrit corresponding to a Gothic /, in accordance 
 Avith Grimm's law of consonantal change, would, 
 have led the speakers of Sanscrit to pronounce their 
 interjection of disgust and reprobation like Vene- 
 tian ^;/r A / Spanish 2^u ! Lithuanian 7;?^// or Illy- 
 rian 7;// We might then account in the most 
 natural way for the use of the root 7^/2/ in the sense 
 of scold (which is one of those given by Lottner) 
 as signifying to say J3^ / as Norse fyne, to say fy ! 
 to scold. Accordingl}^ in his second series of lec- 
 tures Milller seems to abandon his former objection, 
 and. to rest his opposition on the ground of appre- 
 hensions that if the interjectional origin of the 
 words in question were admitted " all would be 
 mere scramble and confusion ; Grimm's law would 
 be broken ; and roots kept distinct in Sanscrit, 
 Greek, Latin, and German would be mixed up to- 
 gether. For besides 7;?^^ to hate, there is another 
 root in Sanscrit, puij, to decay. From it we have 
 Latin 2^if<^, puieo, putridus ; Greek 2)yon and pythd; 
 Lithuanian pulei, matter, and, in strict accordance 
 with Grimm's law, Gothic fuh, English fouiy— 
 p. 93. We can only answer the charge in as far
 
 90 EXPRESSION 
 
 as it is explained by the instance wliicli is brought 
 in support of it. Now we have seen that two 
 forms of the interjection have been developed 'in 
 English ; ^jAoo / foh ! faugh ! expressing disgust 
 at a bad smell ; and fie ■' expressing reprobation 
 and displeasure. And it will be perceived that 
 the two modifications of the English interjection 
 closely correspond both in sense and sound with 
 the two Sanscrit roots above mentioned. 
 
 So far then there would be no evidence of that 
 scramble or confusion which Miiller apprehends. 
 The interjectional theory merely carries on the 
 investigation a stage further than the analysis of 
 the Sanscrit grammarians, and gives a rational 
 account of the origin of the roots jny and puy, 
 which MuUer is content to leave as ultimate facts. 
 
 NO. 
 
 The simple negative particle ne has become 
 obsolete in English, and has been replaced by 
 strengthened forms, as no, corresponding to Gothic 
 niaiv, never, and not, resolvable into ne ichit, not a 
 bit. The origin of the negative signification may 
 perhaps be studied best in the bodily gestures by 
 which acceptance or agreement and refusal or 
 denial are so widely signified. If the negative n
 
 OF NEGATION. 91 
 
 can be traced to the same figure, which accounts 
 both for the expression of approval by a nod of 
 the head, and of denial by a shake, the chances 
 will be greatly increased that we have hit on the 
 true explanation. Now the earliest instance in 
 the life of Man when he has occasion to indicate 
 acceptance or refusal is in answer to the offer of 
 the mother's breast. If the infant is hungry he 
 moves his head eagerly forwards in order to seize 
 the breast with his mouth, and as soon as he is 
 satiated he withdraws his mouth, and endeavours 
 to avoid the breast by moving his head from side 
 to side. In this earliest exercise of choice on the 
 part of the infant is found a natural type of agree- 
 ment or dissent, which are accordingly expressed 
 b}"- slight movements of the head, symbolical of 
 those of the infant in accepting or rejecting the 
 earliest proffer of food.* 
 
 When the action which furnishes the type of 
 dissent has to be symbolized in speech instead of 
 gesture, the part performed by the mouth becomes 
 the prominent feature of the action ; and as the 
 infant closes his mouth against the breast which is 
 pressed against his lips, the refusal of the offer 
 may be symbolized as well by a conspicuous closure 
 * Charma.
 
 92 HEM ! 
 
 of the moutli as by the motion of the head. . But 
 when the voice is exerted with closed teeth or lips, 
 it pi^oduces the sound of the letter w or tn. Hence 
 we may account for the use of the particle ne to 
 signify negation, and possibly also of Greek fj-r] in 
 the same sense. From ne are formed Lat. nego, 
 Fr. nicr, lUyrian nckati, ON. neitn, nita, to say 
 ne, to deny, refuse. 
 
 HEM ! 
 
 The last interjection that we shall notice is the 
 cry of hon ! used for a variety of purposes, all 
 founded in the first instance on calling the atten- 
 tion of the hearer to the speaker himself. Thus 
 the exclamation hem ! or ahei)/. ! is used as a 
 preparation to engage attention before we begin to 
 speak ; or uttered in the course of speaking it is 
 meant to retain the hearers' attention until the 
 speaker has matured his thoughts, and is thus 
 equivalent to holding by the button. In Latin it 
 often has the sense of lo ! Hem Davum tibi, lo 
 there is Davus. Here also the primary object of 
 the interjection is to call attention to the speaker 
 while he points out Davus by some bodily gesture. 
 
 The primary object is still to call attention to 
 the speaker when we hem after a person in order 
 to make him stop or come back. Hence German
 
 ME. 93 
 
 hemrncn, to stop, clieck^ restrain ; ein rad hcmmcn, 
 to drag a wheel. From the notion of stopping or 
 restraining, the signification is in English extended 
 to that of confining, surrounding, and is specially 
 applied to the doubling down which confines the 
 edge of a piece of cloth and hinders it from 
 ravellins," out, a sio^nification which one would 
 think a priori as far as any that could be devised 
 from the possibility of an origin in onomatopoeia. 
 
 ME. 
 
 But if the primary purpose of the interjection 
 hem is to call attention to the actual presence of 
 the speaker, why may it not be the origin of the 
 pronoun me, Greek e/xe, /u,e, the import of which is 
 simply to bring the speaker before the thoughts of 
 the hearer ? Me signifies the person of the 
 speaker, and in the Latin verse 
 
 INIe, me, adsum qui feci, in me convertite tela, 
 
 the sense would in no degree be altered by reading 
 the passage 
 
 Hem! hem! adsum qui feci . 
 
 The principle which leads to the use of the syllable 
 hem in calling the attention of another to oneself, 
 seems to lie in the fact that the letter m marks the
 
 94 ME. 
 
 sound uttered with closed lips. "When I intend to 
 call the attention of another to m3'self, I begin by 
 clearing my throat in order to catch his ear^ and 
 then by closing my lips I seem to keep the 
 utterance within myself, and to confine the sig- 
 nification to what is within me. If an angry 
 child has been put out of the room and comes 
 back for re-admittance before he has recovered his 
 temper, when asked from the inside who is there ? 
 instead of giving his name or saying me, he will 
 answer by an angry roar with closed lips, sounding 
 m — m! The sound ;;?m thus uttered by an angry 
 child to bring himself before the mind of another^ 
 is found in the language of the Bushmen as the 
 pronoun of the first person, and it has been shown 
 by Dr Lottner in the Philological Transactions 
 for 1859, that the letters m or n are made the 
 basis of the pronoun in languages scattered over 
 the face of the whole earth. Thus in a list of 
 ninety Negro languages the syllables ma, man, me, 
 mi, mo, mil, na, ne, ni, in (or m and n as prefix), 
 are found as pronoun of the first person in upwards 
 of seventy instances. A similar tendency to the 
 use of 771, n, or luj is found in Asia, Siberia, and 
 America. 
 
 If an imitative origin can be found for the
 
 PAPA, MAMMA. 95 
 
 pronoun of the first person, there is no reason why 
 those of the second and third person should not be 
 accounted for on a similar principle, although we 
 are not at present in possession of a clue to their 
 explanation. 
 
 PAPA, MAMMA. 
 
 There is a limited class of words common to 
 almost all languages, which owe their signification 
 to a principle different from any of the foregoing. 
 These are words formed by repetition of the 
 simplest articulations, mama, baba, papa, nana, 
 dada, tata, or with the vowel in the inverse order 
 amma, abba, atta, &c. They doubtless arise in the 
 first instance from the mother caressing the infant 
 by an imitation of his own unmeaning mutterings : 
 mummummum ! dada ! They thus appear rather 
 as adoptions of the natural language of the infant 
 than as inventions of the parent. It is, however, 
 she w^ho gives them their articulate shape, and 
 appropriates their signification to the objects em- 
 braced within the narrow range of the infant's 
 thoughts,* the mother and father^ the mother's 
 breast, the act of taking food, the infant himself. 
 The sounds represented by the syllables ma ma 
 being those earliest and most frequently uttered 
 * See Appendix.
 
 96 TATA, MAM:\rA. ' 
 
 by the infant, the name of mama is commonly 
 appropriated to the mother herself, leaving the 
 choice of baba, papa, dada, &c., to signify the 
 father, as chance may settle. Thus in Latin 
 nurseries mamma was used for a mother, a nurse, 
 a grandmother, and with the diminutive mamilla 
 was retained in ordinary speech in the sense of 
 the breast. With English children of the upper 
 ranks mamma and 2^'^P'^ ^^e mother and father, 
 T/hils among the peasantry the corresponding 
 terms are mammy and daddy, agreeing with Welsh 
 mam and tad, which are the ordinary words of the 
 latter language. In Esthonian we have emma, 
 mother, corresponding to Old Norse ammi, grand- 
 mother, and German ammc, the wet-nurse who 
 supplies the place of a mother. But this selection 
 of the syllables am and ma to designate the mother 
 is not without exception, and we find in Georgian 
 mama, father, and baba, mother. 
 
 Latin papas was father in nursery language ; 
 papjyus, grandfather. That pappa must once have 
 been used in the place of the dimmutiye papilla to 
 signify the breast or nipple appears from It. 
 p)op>pa, the breast, poppare, to give suck ; parallel 
 with Lat. pappo, to eat, in children's language, 
 properly to take the breast, to take food. Hence
 
 POPPINJAY, PUPPY. 97 
 
 pappa, pap, food prepared for tlie soft gums of 
 infancy. With lUyrian children also papati is to 
 eat, as pappen in Bavaria. Hence may be explained 
 Vo\\%\i papinJii, dainties, tidbits, or the ierv^s pappe, 
 papp)ele, used by Tyrolean children to signify any- 
 thing nice to eat : znche)pappelc , sugar plums. 
 In our own lollipops the latter half of the word is 
 from the same source, while the former half is to 
 be explained from Bavarian lallen, lullen, to suck. 
 
 On the other hand, the imitation of the mutter- 
 ing sounds of a child by the syllables ba, pa, is 
 often applied by way of direct representation to 
 signify prattling, talking senselessly, then talking 
 in general. On this principle are formed Dutch 
 habelen, Fr. hahiller, and E. hahhie; 'Fv. pcqjoter ; 
 G. papehi or pappehi and pappern, to babble, 
 prattle ; whence Bavarian der Pappl, the parrot, 
 a sense which explains the Italian name of the 
 bird, papagallo, the talking cock, the origin of our 
 obsolete popinja]). Magyar, papolni, to tattle. 
 
 Heturning to the significations arising from 
 arbitrary appropriation, we pass from It. poppa, 
 the breast, to Fr. poupon, a baby or infant at the 
 breast ; poupte, a doll or imitation baby, a babe of 
 clouts as it was formerly called, a milliner's block. 
 Hence the figurative expression of a puppy, an 
 
 7
 
 98 AEI50T, NUX. 
 
 empty-headed youth thinking of nothing but his 
 fine habiliments. On the other hand, the same 
 name is given to a young dog from the resemblance 
 of his confiding innocence to that of a sucking: 
 child. 
 
 From Hebrew ahha, father, the name of ahhas 
 was given to monks, whence abbatia, a society of 
 monks, an abbey. The name of abbot was after- 
 wards confined to the chief of the society, as abbess 
 to the chief of a society of nuns. In the same way 
 from, papa, father, the name of papa is given in the 
 Greek Church to priests in general, and has been 
 retained by the Pope (in Italian Fapa), the uni- 
 versal head of the Catholic Church. The lUyrian 
 nana, mother, leads to It. nojino, grandfather, norma, 
 grandmother, and thence a nun, a name given by 
 way of respect to a religious recluse. 
 
 The echo by the mother of the wrangling or 
 contented tones of the infant, as she jogs it to sleep, 
 produces the nurse's song or lullaby, la, la, la, na, 
 na, na. From the repetition /a, la, is formed the 
 verb to liill, primarily to set a child to sleep, then 
 to still the violence of any kind of action, as of the 
 wind or waves, or of bodily pain. The same imi- 
 tation of the infant's utterance gives rise to Ger- 
 man lallcn, to speak imperfectly as a child, from
 
 LULL, NIXNY. 90 
 
 wlience the signification is extended to the sense 
 of talking in general, in Gr. XaXew, to speak. 
 
 In Servian the nurse's song sounds li/ii, li/if, 
 whence hjnJyaii, to rock, to swing ; lyuJyasTxa, a 
 cradle. In Italian nurseries the lullaby sounds ninna 
 imnna, or na, na, iia. Hence ninnare, ninneUare, 
 to rock, and in children's language nanna, bed, 
 sleep : fat' la nanna, andare a nanna, to go to bed, 
 to go to sleep. In the Mpongwe, a language of 
 the West of Africa, we find nana, and in the 
 Sowhyleo of the Eastern coast, lala, in the sense 
 of sleep. A different turn of thought leads to the 
 Milanese nan, nanin, a caressing term for an in- 
 fant ; caro el me nan, my darling baby ; ninna, 
 Jiinani, a little girl. In Latin nanus, a dwarf, the 
 designation of a child is transferred to a person of 
 childlike stature ; as in modern Greek viviov, a 
 j^oung child, a childish person, and English ninny, 
 the designation is transferred to a person of 
 childish understanding. 
 
 The inarticulate utterance of the infant wdien 
 he exhales his spirits in the exercise of his limbs 
 seems to be represented by the syllables da or ta, 
 which thence ax'e applied to signify muscular 
 action, as in Galla dadada goda, to knock, to beat. 
 The French child, according to Menage, says
 
 100 DEMO>f STRATI VE PRONOUN. 
 
 da-da-da when lie wants sometliing or wants to 
 name something, /. e. when he stretches out his 
 hand for it, or points to it. In our own nurseries 
 it is certain that the child is taught to say ta, 
 ■when he stretches out his hand to receive some- 
 thing, or to bid good-bye. Hence may be ex- 
 plained the use of the root da or ta in the sense of 
 give, or in that of the demonstrative pronoun, which 
 is the spoken equivalent of the act of pointing. The 
 use of da in the sense of give is not confined to the 
 Aryan stock, but is found in the Yoruba of West- 
 ern Africa, where it signifies strike, give, pay.
 
 101 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 ANALOGY. 
 
 The greater part of our thoughts seem at the first 
 glance so wholly unconnected with the idea of 
 sound as to throw great difficulty in the way of a 
 practical belief in the imitative origin of language. 
 " That sounds can be rendered in language by 
 sounds," says Mliller, " and that each language 
 possesses a large stock of words imitating the 
 sounds given out by certain things, who would 
 deny ? And who would deny that some words 
 originally expressive of sound only might be trans- 
 ferred to other things which have some analogy 
 with sound ? But how are things which do not 
 appeal to the sense of hearing — how are the ideas 
 of going, moving^ standing, sinking, tasting, 
 thinking, to be expressed?" — 2nd Series, p. 89. 
 The answer to the query is already given in the 
 former part of the passage : by analogy, or meta- 
 phor, which is the transference of a word to some
 
 102 TASTE, THOUGHT. 
 
 analogous signification, the conveyance of a mean- 
 ing by mention of something which has an analogy 
 ■uith the thing to be signified. But in several of 
 the instances specified by Miiller it is not difficult 
 to show a direct connection with sound. Thus we 
 have seen that the conceptions of taste are ex- 
 pressed by reference to the smacking of the lips 
 and tongue in the enjoyment of food. The idea 
 of going is common to a hundred modes of pro- 
 grcssi -n that occur in actual existence, of which 
 any one may, and one in particular must, in every 
 mode of expressing the idea, have been the t3'pe 
 from which the name was originally taken. In 
 tlie case of the word go itself, for which Johnson 
 gives seventy meanings^ the original is that which 
 he places first : to walk, to move step by step, a 
 sense which lends itself in the most obvious man- 
 ner to imitative exjjression, by a representation of 
 the sound of the footfall. The connection between 
 thought and speech is so obvious that v/e need be 
 at no loss for the means of expressing the idea of 
 thinking. Thus Greek (j^paC^o is to say ; (ppa^ojxai, 
 to say to oneself, to think, while Aoyo? signifies 
 both speech and thought. In some of the lan- 
 guages of the Pacific thinking is said to be called 
 speaking in the belly. Maori inca is to speak, say,
 
 SPARKLING. 103 
 
 think, do ; hua, to name, think, know ; Id, to 
 speak, to think. 
 
 The analogy between the senses of taste and 
 smell has been already mentioned, in consequence 
 of which words originally applying to the sense of 
 taste are transferred to the impressions of the ana- 
 logous faculty. Thus from Latin sapor, taste, is 
 descended the English savour, which is applied as 
 well to the impressions of the nostrils as to those of 
 the palate. The German schtnecketi, to tnste_, is used 
 in Bavaria in the sense of smell. In like manner 
 the analogy between sight and hearing enables us 
 to signify conceptions of sight by metaphors from 
 the domain of sound. Thus the idea of sparkling, 
 or rapid flashing of a small concentrated lights is 
 expressed bj' the figure of a crackling sound, con- 
 sisting of a similar repetition of short sharp im- 
 pressions on the ear. The word sparhle is a de- 
 rivation from the same imitative root from which 
 spring Swedish spraJca, Danish sprage, Lithuanian 
 Hpragcti, to crackle as firewood, to explode, rattle. 
 The meaning of French ^^c'^iY/^^r is first to crackle, 
 then to sparkle. Dutch tintelen is first to tin kle, 
 then to twinkle, glitter. The Latin scintilla , a 
 spark, has its origin in a form like Danish skingre, 
 "Norse si?ig la, to ring, to klink.
 
 104 ANALOGY BETWEEN 
 
 Again, French ecJat (in Old Fr, esclat), properly 
 a clap or explosion, is used in the sense of bright- 
 ness, splendour, brilliancy. The word bright had 
 a similar origin. It is the equivalent of Gr. 
 praclit, splendour, magnificence, which in Old 
 High German signified a clear sound, outcry, 
 tumult. Bavarian bracht, clang, noise. In AS. 
 we have beorhfian, to resound, and beorht, bright. 
 
 Leod was asungen 
 
 Gleomannes gyd, 
 
 Gamen eft astah, 
 Beorhfede benc-sweg : 
 The lay was sung, the gleeman's song, the sport grew high, 
 the bench-notes resounded- — Beowulf, 2315. 
 
 In the old poem of the Owl and the Nightingale 
 hrigJit is applied to the clear notes of a bird. 
 
 Heo— song so schille and so hrihte 
 That far and ner me hit iherde. — 1. 1654. 
 
 Dutch schateren, sclieteren, to make a loud noise, 
 to shriek with laughter ; schitcren, to shine, to 
 glisten ; Dan. knistre, knittre, gnittre, to crackle ; 
 gnistre, to sparkle. Many striking examples of 
 the same transference of signification may be 
 quoted from the Finnish language, as kiliyia, a 
 ringing sound, a brilliant light; kilia, tinkling, 
 glittering ; uilida, to ring as a glass ; willata,
 
 SOUND AND SIGHT. 105 
 
 icilella, nilahtaa, to flash, to glitter ; limista, to 
 sound clear (parallel with E. chime), kimmaltaa, 
 Jiiimottaa, to shine, to glitter, &c. In Galla, bilhila, 
 a ringing noise as of a bell ; b'dhilgocla (to make 
 hilhil), to ring, to glitter, beam, glisten. — Tutschek 
 
 The language of painters is full of musical 
 metaphor. It speaks of harmonious or discordant 
 colouring, discusses the tone of a picture. So in 
 modern slang, which mainly consists in the use of 
 new and violent metaphors (though perhaps, in 
 truth, not more violent than those in which the 
 terms of ordinary language had their origin), we 
 hear of screaming colours, of dressing loud. 
 
 But besides the analogy between external objects 
 which enables us to give names taken from direct 
 imitation to things unconnected with sound, it 
 seems that no inconsiderable number of words are 
 derived from a feeling of something analogous in 
 the effort of utterance with the thing to be signi- 
 fied, as for instance, in the case of the interjection 
 hon ! from the feeling of the speaker that he is 
 confining the signification within himself when he 
 closes his mouth in the utterance of the final m. 
 It was to analogies of this kind that the attention 
 of the ancients was mainly directed, and it must 
 be admitted that they open a wide door for that
 
 lOG ANALOGIES 
 
 loose speculation into whieli their linguistic philo- 
 sophy is so apt to fall. Of this we have a fair 
 example in the Cratylus, where Socrates is made 
 to explain the inherent fitness of the letter sounds 
 to signify phenomena of analogous nature in 
 external existence. The letter r, he says, from the 
 mobility of the tongue in pronouncing it^ seemed 
 to him who settled names an appropriate instru- 
 ment for the imitation of movement. He accord- 
 ingly used it for that purpose in pdv and porj, flow 
 and flux, then in Tpojxos, rpa^vs, Kpoveiv, dpavetv, 
 cp€i,K€LV, K^pixaTiC^iv, pvp^fiav, tremour, rough, 
 strike, break, rend, shatter, whirl. Observing 
 that the tongue chiefly slides in pronouncing /, he 
 used it in forming the imitative words Aeto?, 
 smooth, kiTTapos, oily, koAAcoS?;?, gluey, oXiaOavuv, 
 slide. And observing that n kept the voice 
 within, he framed the 'words evhov, evTos, within, 
 inside, fitting the letters to the sense. 
 
 Much of the same kind is found in an interesting 
 passage of Augustine, which is quoted by Lersch 
 and M tiller. 
 
 "The Stoics," he says, " hold that there is no 
 word of which a clear account cannot be given. 
 And if you said that it would be equally neces- 
 sary to trace the origin of the words in which the
 
 OF VOCAL SOUNDS. 107 
 
 origin of the former one yvas explained and so on 
 ad infinitura, they would admit that so it woidd bo 
 until you came to the point where there is direct 
 resemblance between the sound of the word and 
 the thing signified, as when we speak of the 
 tinkling (tinnitum) of brass, the neighing of 
 horses, the bleating of sheep, the clang (clangorem) 
 of trumpets, the clank (stridorem) of chains, for 
 you perceive that these words sound like the 
 things which are signified by them. But because 
 there are things which do not sound, with these 
 the similitude of touch comes into play, so that if 
 the things are soft or rough to the touch, they are 
 fitted with names that by the nature of the letters 
 are felt as soft or rough to the ear. Thus the 
 word kne, soft, itself sounds soft to the ear ; and 
 who does not feel also that the word asjjerifas, 
 roughness, is rough like the thing which it 
 signifies ? Yohq^tas, pleasure, is soft to the ear ; 
 cruXy the cross, rough. The things themselves 
 affect our feelings in accordance with the sound of 
 the words. As honey is sweet to the taste, so the 
 name, mel, is felt as soft by the ear. Acre, sharp, 
 is rough in both ways. Lana, wool, and vepres, 
 briars, affect the ear in accordance with the way 
 in which the things signified are felt by touch.
 
 108 ANALOGIES BETWEEN 
 
 " It was believed that the first germs of language 
 were to be found in the words where there was 
 actual resemblance between the sound of the word 
 and the thing which it signified : that from thence 
 the invention of names proceeded to take hold of 
 the resemblance of things between themselves ; as 
 when, for example, the cross is called crux because 
 the rough sound of the word agrees with the 
 roughness of the pain which is suffered on the 
 cross ; while the legs are called crura, not on 
 account of the roughness of pain, but because 
 in length and hardness they are like wood in com- 
 parison with the other members of the body."* 
 
 We can only smile at this philosophic trifling, 
 but that there is a true analogy between sound 
 and shape or movement is shown by the fact that 
 we apply the same qualifications to both classes of 
 phenomena. "We speak of a rough or a smooth 
 sound and a rough or smooth motion or outline. 
 The ground of this relation between the two con- 
 ceptions is, that both sound and motion are the 
 effect of mechanical action, and are constantly 
 associated in our experience, so that hardly a sound 
 can be heard which does not suggest the thought 
 of some kind of movement, from the crack of a gun 
 * The original is given at the end of the volume.
 
 SOUND AND MOVEMENT. 109 
 
 to the rustle of a leaf. At the same time we have 
 an internal knowledge of the phenomena from the 
 power we possess of producing sound by the exer- 
 tion of the voice, and motion by the voluntary 
 action of the hand or foot. We recognize in both 
 cases the dependance of the phenomenon on the 
 effort exerted, and we attribute to the sound or the 
 movement the quality of the effort by which it was 
 produced. Thus we speak of an abrupt, a ti'emul- 
 ous, or a broken sound as well as motion, and we 
 thence employ a vocal utterance of an abrupt, a 
 tremulous, or a broken nature to signify a move- 
 ment of analogous character, although the move- 
 ment itself may be wholly unaccompanied by noise 
 of any kind. Thus there is a direct imitation of 
 action by the voice, and not merely an imitation 
 of sound, although doubtless whenever action was 
 thus represented, the meaning of the utterance 
 would at first be explained by accompanying ges- 
 tures, as the symbols of Chinese and hieroglyphic 
 writing frequently are by the kej's or distinctive 
 characters indicating the general nature of the 
 thing signified. Now among the consonantal 
 sounds those of the mutes, or checks as they are 
 called by Miiller, consisting of the letters b, d, g, p, 
 t, k, are distinguished from all other consonants by
 
 110 ANALOGIES BETWEEN 
 
 this, " that for a time they stop the emission of 
 breath altogether." — Miiller, 2nd Series, p. 138. 
 Hence in pronouncing a sjdlable ending in a mute 
 or check we are conscious of an abrupt termina- 
 tion of the vocal effort, and we employ a wide range 
 of syllables constructed on that principle to signify 
 a movement abruptly checked, as shag, shog, jag, 
 jog, jig, dag, dig, stag (in stagger, to reel abruptly 
 from side to side), job, jib, stah, rug, tug ; Fr. 
 sag-oter, to jog ; sac- cade, a rough and sudden jerk, 
 motion, or check. — Sadler, Fr. Diet. 
 
 The syllable suk is used in Bremen to represent 
 a jog in riding or going ; Dat geit jummer suk ! 
 suk ! of a rough horse. Ene olde suksuk, an old 
 worthless horse or carriage, a rattle trap. Sukkeln, 
 German schuckein, schockcln, to jog. On the same 
 principle the component syllables in zigzag fun- 
 damentally represent short impulses abruptly 
 changing in direction, and thence the shape of the 
 line traced out by such a movement, the changes 
 in direction being indicated by the change of vowel 
 from i to a. G. zackc, a jag or sharp projection ; 
 zickzack, zigzag, a line or movement composed of 
 a series of jogs. The syllables tick, tack, tock, 
 represent sharp smart sounds of various kinds, and 
 tliev associated or analogous movements. Thus the
 
 SOUND AND MOVEMENT. Ill 
 
 component syllables of Bolognese tcc-lac, ccc-ciac, 
 a cracker, represent the successive explosions of the 
 firework, in which it jumps sharply about in 
 different directions. We have then English tick- 
 tack for the beat of a clock, Italian tcccJie-tocche, 
 Brescian tech-tcch, toch-toch, for the sound of 
 knocking at a door, Parmesan tic-toe for the beat 
 of the heart or the pulse, or the ticking of a watch. 
 Hence tick or tock for any light sharp movement. 
 To tick a thing off, to mark it with a touch of the 
 pen ; to take a thing on tick, to have it ticked or 
 marked on the score ; to tickle, to incite by light 
 touches. Bolognese tocc, Brescian tocJi, the blow 
 of the clapper on a bell or knocker on a door, lead 
 to Spanish tocar, to knock, to ring a bell, to beat 
 or play on a musical instrument, and also (with 
 the meaning softened down) as Italian toccare, 
 French toucher, to touch. The Milanese tocJi, like 
 English tick, is a stroke with a pen or pencil, then, 
 figuratively, a certain space, so much as is tra- 
 versed at a stroke ; on bell tocch di strada, a good 
 piece of road ; then, as Italian tocco, a piece or bit 
 of anything. 
 
 The sound of a crack suggests the idea of a sud- 
 den start or abrupt movement, and when repeated 
 it indicates broken movement, movement sharply
 
 112 CROOK, CROSS. 
 
 chano;in2: in direction, and thence a iaororod or 
 crooked outline, as in the Norse expression, i l-rok 
 aa i krik, in a crooked path, with many bendings 
 first on one side, then on the other. The syllable 
 crack thus becomes adapted to signify a sudden 
 change of direction or sharp bend, or anything 
 bent, as in OX. krakr, krokr, a hook, loop, angle, 
 bending, turn ; E. crook, crooked, Latin crur, cross, 
 an implement in which (as also in a crutch) the 
 arm is brought at right angles across the stem. 
 From the same source are Greek KpcKos, and with 
 inversion of the vowel /ctpKo?, Lat. circus, clrcuhis, a 
 rinjj, circle. The addition of a nasal to the imita- 
 live syllable gives crincum-crankum, with twists 
 and turnings ; cringh-cr angle, a zigzag (Halliwell) ; 
 crinkle, to go in and out, rumple, wrinkle ; cranh- 
 ling, twisting and turning ; crank, a twist, a handle 
 bent at right angles ; ON. kringla, kringr, hringr, 
 Danish ring, a circle. 
 
 In other cases the representation of a crackling 
 sound is applied to signify the multifarious move- 
 ment of a complex body. So French petlller, to 
 crackle, expresses the twitching of the limbs of a 
 person who cannot keep still for impatience. The 
 Swedish prassla, to rustle or crackle, in a secondary 
 application signifies to flutter with the wangs,
 
 SPRAWL, SPARKLE. 113 
 
 sprawl like an infant, flounder like a fisli out of 
 water, wag the tail, tremble like the leaves of a 
 tree. The sister form sprasda, to crackle, preserves 
 the same original sense, while the secondary appli- 
 cation is marked by a slight modification of sound 
 in Hprattla, to sprawl, or throw about the legs, cor- 
 responding to provincial English nprottle, to strug- 
 gle, to throw about the arms and legs, and spruttle, 
 to sprinkle or scatter drops of liquid in all direc- 
 tions.* Another instance, where the original and 
 secondary applications are distinguished by a slight 
 modification in the form of the word, is found in 
 Swedish sjJraJca, to crackle, and sparka (with in- 
 version of the liquid and vowel), to kick, to sprawl. 
 In the North of England to spark is to splash, to 
 scatter abroad particles of wet. " I sparhjll abrode, 
 I sprede thyuges asonder." — Palsgrave 
 
 The same transference from ideas of sound to 
 those of extension takes place with the syllables 
 mukf mill, mot, tot, kuk, kik, &c., which were 
 formerly mentioned as being used (generally with 
 a negative) to express the least appreciable sound. 
 The closeness of the connection between such a 
 meaning and the least appreciable movement is 
 
 * Compare Zulu sabuhda, to struggle violently, to dis- 
 perse, lie scattered about.
 
 114 TRANSFERENCE FROM SOUND 
 
 witnessed by the use of the same word still to 
 express alike the absence of sound or motion. 
 Accordingly the Gr. mack, representing in the first 
 instance a sound barely audible, is made to signify 
 a slight movement. Mucken, to mutter, to say a 
 word ; also to stir, to make the least movement. 
 
 The representative syllable takes the form of 
 mick or kick in the Dutch phrase noch micken 
 noch kicken, not to utter a syllable. Then, passing 
 to the signification of motion, it produces Dutch 
 micken, Illyrian inigati, to wink ; micati [mitsati), 
 to stir ; Lat. mlcarc, to glitter, to move rapidly to 
 and fro. The analogy is then carried a step 
 further, and the sense of a slight movement is 
 made a stepping-stone to the signification of a 
 material atom, a small bodily object. Hence Lat. 
 and It. mica, Spanish miga, Fr. mie, a crura, a 
 little bit, G. milcke, a midge, the smallest kind of 
 fly. The train of thought runs through the same 
 course in Dutch kicken, to utter a slight sound ; It. 
 cicalare, chichirillare, to chatter ; Fr. cJiicoter, to 
 sprawl like an infant ; Welsh cicio, and E. kick, to 
 strike with the foot. Then in the sense of any 
 least portion of bodily substance, It. cica, Fr, chic, 
 chiquet, a little bit ; cJiique, a quid of tobacco, a 
 playing-marble, properly a small lump of clay ; Sp.
 
 TO MOVEMEXT AXD BODY. 115 
 
 chico, little. In the same way from tlie representa- 
 tion of a slight sound by the syllable mot, mut, as 
 in E. mutter, or in the Italian phrase 7ion fare ne 
 motto ne totto, not to utter a syllable, we have E. 
 mote, an atom, and 7nite, the least visible insect ; 
 Du. mot, dust, fragments ; It, motta, Fr. motte, 
 a lump of earth. From Du. mot again must be ex- 
 plained tnotte, a moth, the worm that corrupts our 
 stores of clothes and reduces them to motes or frag- 
 ments ; or the fly that springs from it. 
 
 The use of a syllable like tot to represent a short 
 indefinite sound is shown in the Italian phrase 
 above quoted ; in Old E. totle, to whisper (Promp- 
 torium), Du. tateren, to stammer, to sound like a 
 trumpet ; Old Norse tauta, to mutter ; Norse tot, 
 muttering, murmur; E. tootle, to make noises on 
 a flute or horn ; titter, to laugh in a subdued 
 manner. The expression passes on to the idea of 
 movement in E. totter, tottle, to move slightly to 
 and fro, to toddle like a child ; tot, to jot down or 
 note with a slight movement of the pen ; titter, to 
 tremble, to seesaw (Halliwell) ; Lat. titillo. Pro- 
 vincial E. to tittle, to tickle or excite by slight 
 touches or movements. Then, passing from the 
 sense of a slight movement to that of a small 
 bodily matter, we have E. tot, anything very 
 8*
 
 116 EXPRESSION 
 
 small ; totty, little (Ilalliwell) ; Danish, tot, Scotch 
 tait, a bunch or flock of flax, wool, or the like ; It. 
 tozzo, a bit, a morsel ; E. tit, a bit, a morsel, any- 
 thing small of its kind, a small horse, a little girl ; 
 titty, tiny, small ; tiffaggots, small short faggots ; 
 titlarh, a small kind of lark ; titmouse (Dutch 
 mossche, a sparrow), a small bird ; tittle, a jot or 
 little bit. It. citto, zitto, a lad ; citta, zitella, a girl. 
 The passage from the sense of a light movement 
 to that of a small portion is seen also in pat, 
 a light quick blow and a small lump of matter ; 
 to dot, to touch lightly with a pen, to make a slight 
 mark, and dot, a small lump or pat. — Ilalliwell. 
 To jot, to touch, to jog, to note a thing "hastily on 
 paper ; jot, a small quantity. 
 
 The change of vowel from a or o to i, which was 
 seen above in tot and tit, is another example of 
 correspondence between modifications in the eflbrt 
 of utterance and the character of the thing sig- 
 nified. The vowels a and o are pronounced with 
 open throat and the full sound of the voice, while 
 the orifice of the windpipe is narrowed and the 
 volume of sound diminished in the pronunciation 
 of i. Hence we unconsciously pass to the use of 
 the vowel i in expressing diminution of action or 
 of size.
 
 OF DIMINUTION. 117 
 
 The sound of the footfiill is represented in Ger- 
 man by the syllablas trapjy-trapp-trapp ; from 
 whence Du. tfajy, a step, tmppen, to tread, Swedish 
 trappa, stairs. The change to the short com- 
 pressed i in trip adapts the syllable to signify a 
 light quick step : Du. irippcn, trip-pclen, trepelen, to 
 leap, to dance (Kiliaan) ; Fr. trepigner, to beat the 
 ground with the feet. Clank represents the sound 
 of something large, as chains ; clink, or chink, of 
 smaller things, as money. To sup up, is to take up 
 liquids by large spoonfuls ; to sip, to sup up by 
 little and little, with lips barely open. Top, nab, 
 knob, signifj^ an extremity of a broad round shape ; 
 tip, nib, nipple, a similar object of a smaller size 
 and pointed shape. 
 
 A young relation of my own adopted the use of 
 baby* as a diminutival prefix. Baby-Thomas was 
 the smaller of two men-servants of that name. But 
 when he wishes to carry the diminution further he 
 narrows the sound to bee-bee, and at last it becomes 
 a beebee-beebee thing. Thus he has practically 
 invented the word becbee in the sense of little. It 
 is possible that such a pronunciation of baby may 
 have been the origin of icee or wee-wee, small, but 
 
 * So in the Vel language of Western Africa, den, child, 
 and also, little, small.
 
 118 ANALOGIES BETWEEN 
 
 it is more likely that it is a mere representation of 
 tlie utterance when we make the voice small for the 
 purpose of expressing smallness of size. It will be 
 observed that we increase the force of the expres- 
 sion by dwelling on the narrow vowel and contract- 
 ing the voice to a thread. A little tee-eemj thing; 
 a teeny-weeny thing. 
 
 The consciousness of forcing the voice through a 
 narrow opening in the pronunciation of the sound 
 ce leads to the use of syllables like pee^j, heek, teet, 
 to signify a thing making its way through a nar- 
 row opening, just beginning to appear, looking 
 through between obstacles. Danish at fippe frem 
 is to spring forth, to make its way through the 
 bursting envelope, whence French j^cpin, the pif 
 or lyippin, the germ from whence the plant is to 
 spring. The Swedish has titta frem, to peep 
 through, to begin to appear ; titta, to peep, in old 
 English to teet. 
 
 The rois knoppis tetand furth thare hed 
 Gan chyp and kythe thare vernale lippis red. 
 
 Douglas Vh-gll, 401. 8. 
 
 The 2>6ep of dawn is when the curtain of darkness 
 begins to lift and the first streaks of light to push 
 through the opening. 
 
 The syllables ha, /)a are among those that come
 
 SOUND AND MOVEMENT, 119 
 
 the readiest to the lips, and thence they are used in 
 the construction of words representing a light mur- 
 muring sound, as that of broken water or of voices 
 indistinctly heard. Hence Du. hahelen, G. pajieln, 
 Fr. prqjoter, to babble, chatter, tattle; Du. popelen, 
 to mutter, murmur ; Fr. papelard, a mutterer of 
 prayers, a hypocrite ; E. popple, to sound like 
 broken water, to bubble up, and then (with the 
 signification transferred from sound to motion) to 
 tumble about like the surface of boiling w^ater. 
 The same transition from sound to movement 
 explains the name of the poplar (properly poppler^ 
 from the tremulous movement of the leaves cha- 
 racteristic of that kind of tree : Lat. populm, 
 Du. popelcn-hoom, popelier, Prov. E. popple, Gr. 
 pappel. On the same principle the Lat. papilio, 
 a butterfly, expresses the fluttering flight of the 
 creature, which never seems to have a settled aim, 
 but keeps constantly changing in direction from 
 one moment to another. The Walachian has flu- 
 turd, to flutter ; fluturu, a butterfly. Zulu papa, 
 papama, to flutter ; 2)a2)e, a wing, feather. 
 
 As syllables ending in a mute or check are adapted 
 to represent a sound or a movement brought abruptly 
 to a conclusion, so a ringing or prolonged sound is 
 commonly represented by a syllable ending with
 
 120 EXPRESSIONS OF MOVEMENT 
 
 one of the liquids /, m, n, ng, r, wliich are sounded 
 by a continuous emission of the breath. 
 
 Thus squeak expresses a short acute cry ; squeal 
 a prolonged sound of similar character. Clap, 
 clack, rap, rat-tat- tat, represent abrupt sounds like 
 those arising from the collision of hard bodies; 
 knell, loom, din, ring, clang, sounds with more or 
 less of resonance. And from sounds of such a 
 nature the signification is frequently transferred to 
 a swinging movement, in which the impulse gradu- 
 ally dies away instead of stopping abruptly. Thus 
 from E. hoom, hum, It. rimbomharc, to resound, 
 Du. bommcn, to resound, to beat a drum, homham- 
 men, to ring bells, we pass to G. hammelen, to 
 dangle, to swing. The same relation is seen 
 between E. ding-dong for the sound of bells and 
 the verb to dangle; or between It. din-din, 
 don-don, for the sound of bells, and dondolare, to 
 swing, toss, shake to and fro, and thence dally, 
 spend the time idly ; Fr. dandiner, to sway to and 
 fro ; E. dandle, to to?s a child up and down. The 
 train of thought is continued in It. dondola, a 
 child's toy or playing baby ; Scotch dandiUy, made 
 for play rather than use, showy ; E. dandy, pro- 
 perly a toy or puppet, then a puppy, an over- 
 dressed coxcomb.
 
 FREQUENTATIVES. 
 
 121 
 
 On the same principle we pass from Lat. tin- 
 tlnire, to ring or tingle, to Italian tcntcnnare, to 
 shake, jog, stir ; tentennare alV uscio, to knock at 
 the door. And as from tintirdre is formed Fr. 
 t inter, to tingle, so it seems that a similar modifi- 
 cation must have given rise to Latin tentare, to try 
 or tempt, properly to shake at a thing in order to 
 learn whether it is firm. Italian tentennio, jog- 
 ging, agitation ; tcntennw, the tempter, the Devil. 
 
 FKEQUENTATIVES. 
 
 It must not be supposed that every separate syl- 
 lable of our inflected words is the remains of what 
 was once a self- significant element. The cl or er 
 or it of frequentative verbs like rattle, clatter, 
 2xdp-it-o, have probably never had an independent 
 existence. The simplest mode of expressing con- 
 tinuance of action would be by actual repetition of 
 the syllable representing a single pulsation or 
 momentary element of the action in question, as in 
 murmur; turtur, a dove whose cr}^ is tur tur ; 
 tintinio, I sound tin, tin, &c. ^Vords of this form- 
 ation are exceedingly common in barbarous lan- 
 guages,* and in the Pacific dialects they form a 
 
 * Reduplication is a regular mood of the verb in some 
 African languages expressing indefinite continuance. Thus
 
 122 EXPRESSION 
 
 large proportion of the dictionary. But the prin- 
 ciple is one that can be called into use in the coin- 
 ing of fresh words even in our own language, as in 
 the case of the verb i-tooh-pooh , to use the interjec- 
 tion pooh ! to a thing, to treat it with contempt. 
 Then on the same principle, on which the word 
 representing the cry of an animal is used to desig- 
 nate the author of the cry, the mode of expressing 
 continuance of action by repetition of the signifi- 
 cant element is carried on to the agent or to the 
 instrument of action. Thus in Maori we find 
 mawhiti, to skip ; maichitiirhlfl, a grasshopper ; 
 puJca, to pant ; 2mka-pnka, the lungs, the agent in 
 panting ; mtika, flax, mukamuka, to wipe or rub, 
 for which purpose a bunch of flax would be em- 
 ployed ; mum, to flame, miimmiira^ flame. Malay 
 ayiin, to rock ; aijnnmjunan, a cradle. 
 
 In more cultivated languages this constant repe- 
 tition is found monotonous, and the significant syl- 
 lable is slurred over more or less in repetition, as in 
 5^^s?frr»s for s;fr-s/(r-?f«, a whisper ; rat-at-at-at for 
 the knocking at a door. Or the element expressing 
 continuance may be a mere echo of the fundamental 
 
 in Wolof sopa is to love ; aopsopa, to love constantly. In 
 Mpongwe, kamba, speak ; kambagamba, talk at random ; 
 keii-li, walk ; kendxgenda, walk about for amusement.
 
 OF CONTINUANCE. 123 
 
 syllable, as in rach-et, a clattering noise ; Frencli 
 cliqii-et-is, clash, a continued sound of click, click. 
 The syllable et or it could only properly be used in 
 this manner as the echo of a hard sound, but many 
 devices of expression are extended by analogy far 
 beyond their original aim, and thus the addition 
 of the syllable it has become the common expres- 
 sion of repetition or continuance in Latin, as from 
 clamo, to call, clamito, to keep calling, to call fre- 
 quently. The elements usually -employed by us 
 for the same purpose are composed of an obscure 
 vowel with the consonants I or /•, on which the 
 voice can dwell for a length of time with a more 
 or less sensible vibration, representing the effect 
 on the ear when a rapid succession of beats has 
 merged in a continuous whirr. Thus in the j^cit- 
 tering of rain or hail, expressing the fall of a rapid 
 succession of drops on a sonorous surface, the sylla- 
 ble ^ai imitates the sound of a single drop, while 
 the vibration of the r in the second syllable repre- 
 sents the murmuring sound of the shower when 
 the attention is not directed to the individual tajjs 
 3f which it is composed. In like manner to 
 "Jatter is to do anything accompanied by a 
 succession of noises that might be represented 
 by the syllable clat ; to crackle, to make a sue-
 
 124 EXPRESSION 
 
 cession of cracks ; to rattle, dahhle, buhhle, gug- 
 gle, to make a successloa of noises that mig-lit 
 be represented iniividaally by the syllables rat, 
 dill), h:ih, gi/g. The expression is then extended to 
 signify continued action unconnected with an}'- 
 particular noise, as grapple, to make a succession 
 of grabs ; almffie, to make a succession of shoves ; 
 draggle, waggle, joggle, to continue dragging, wag- 
 ging, jogging. The final el or er is frequentl}'' re- 
 placed by a simple /, which, as Ihre remarks under 
 gncella, has something ringing (aliquid tinnuli) _in 
 it. Thus to mewl and pule, in French mlauler 
 &ndi piauler, are to cry mew a-ndi pew ; to wall is to 
 cry wae, to howl or growl, to cry hw or groo. 
 
 The use of the termination signifying continu- 
 ance or repetition is further extended when it is 
 added to an element that does not of itself involve 
 the ilea of action, as in kneel from knee, prowl 
 from French prole, prey. Here the final I vaguely 
 indicates action having reference to the prior ele- 
 ment of the word. To kneel is to use the knee, to 
 rest upon the knee ; to prowJ, to act in reference 
 to prey, to seek for prey. 
 
 In this use of the frequentative element it adds 
 nothing to the sense that is not already implied by 
 the verbal form of the word, and therefore it is
 
 OF CONTINUANCE. 125 
 
 frequently omitted in one dialect while it is found 
 in the corresponding word of another dialect. 
 Thus in English we speak of the mew-ing of a cat 
 where the French use miau-l-er. The Germans 
 have hiie-en corresponding to our knec-l. 
 
 But the element is employed in the construction 
 of adjectives and nouns as well as verbs. Thus 
 Anglo-Saxon Jicol, ivancol, ivancl, fickle, incon- 
 stant, habitually wavering, are formed by the 
 addition of the frequentative element to the roots 
 shown in German fickfacken, to move to and fro, 
 to fidge, and imnkcn, wankelcii, to wag, to waver. 
 
 When used as a substantive the frequentative 
 form has the sense of the agent or instrument of 
 action, as in Anglo-Saxon rynel, a runner ; or in 
 rubber, what rubs or what is used in rubbing, and 
 it thus performs the same office which was filled by 
 the repetition of the significant syllable in Maori.
 
 126 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 When we come to sum up the evidence of the 
 imitative origin of language, we find that words 
 are to be found in every dialect that are used with 
 a conscious intention of directly imitating sound, 
 such as flap, crack, smack, or the interjections ah ! 
 uo-h ! But sometimes the signification is carried 
 on, either by a figurative mode of expression, or 
 by association, to something quite distinct from 
 the sound originally represented, although the 
 connection between the two may be so close as to 
 be rarely absent from the mind in the use of the 
 word. Thus the word flap originally imitates the 
 sound made by the blow of a flat surface, as the 
 wing of a bird or the corner of a sail. It then 
 passes on to signify the movement to and fro of a 
 flat surface, and is thence applied to the moveable 
 leaf of a tabic, the part that moves on a hinge up 
 and down, where all direct connection with sound
 
 IMITATIVE CHARACTER OBSCURED. 127 
 
 is lost. In like manner crack imitates the sound 
 made by a hard body breaking, and is applied in 
 a secondary way to the effects of the breach, to 
 the separation between the broken parts, or to a 
 narrow separation between adjoining edges, such 
 as might have arisen from a breach between them. 
 But when we speak of looking through the crack 
 of a door we have no thought of the sound made 
 by a body breaking, although it is not difficult, on 
 a moment's reflection, to trace the connection be- 
 tween such a sound and the narrow oj)ening which 
 is our real meaning. It is probable that smack is 
 often used in the sense of taste without a thought 
 of the smacking sound of the tongue in the enjoy- 
 ment of food, which is the origin of the word. 
 
 When an imitative word is used in a secondary 
 sense, it is obviously a mere chance how long, or 
 how generally, the connection with the sound it 
 was originally intended to represent, will continue 
 to be felt in daily speech. Sometimes the con- 
 necting links are to be found only in a foreign 
 language, or in forms that have become obsolete 
 in our own, when the unlettered man can only 
 regard the word he is using as an arbitrary 
 symbol. It is admitted on all hands that the 
 childish name oi papa for father arises from imita-
 
 128 PRESUMPTION IN FAVOUU 
 
 tion of tliG imperfect babbling of iafancy, but no 
 one acquainted only with English would recognize 
 the same word in the name of the Pope, the father 
 of the Catholic Church. "We should hardly have 
 connected u(jhj with the interjection ugh! if we 
 had not been aware of the obsolete verb ug, to cry 
 ugh ! or feel horror at, and it is only the accidental 
 preservation of one or two passages where the 
 verb is written liouge, that gives us the clue by 
 which huge and hug are traced to the same source. 
 Thus the imitative power of words is gradually 
 obscured by figurative use and the loss of inter- 
 mediate forms, until all suspicion of the original 
 principle of their signification has faded away in 
 the minds of all but the few who have made the 
 subject their special study. There is, moreover, 
 no sort of difference either in outward appearance, 
 or in mode of use, or in aptness to combine with 
 othei' elements, between words which we are any 
 how able to trace to an imitative source, and others 
 of whose significance the grounds are wholly 
 unknown. It would be impossible for a person 
 who knew nothing of the origin of the words 
 huge and vast, to guess from the nature of the 
 words which of the two was derived from the 
 imitation of sound ; and when lie was informed that
 
 OF A VERA CAUSA. 129 
 
 huge had been explained on this principle, it 
 would be diiScult to avoid the inference that a 
 similar origin might possibly be found for vast 
 also. Nor can we doubt that a wider acquaint- 
 ance with the forms through which our language 
 has past would malce manifest the imitative origin 
 of numerous words whose signification now ap- 
 pears to be wholly arbitrary. And why should it 
 be assumed that any words whatever are beyond 
 the reach of such an explanation ? 
 
 If onomatopoeia is a vera causa as far as it goes ; 
 if it affords an adequate account of the origin of 
 words signifying things not themselves apprehen- 
 sible by the ear, it behoves the objectors to the 
 theory to explain what are the limits of its reach, 
 to specify the kind of thought for which it is 
 inadequate to find expression, and the grounds of 
 its shortcomings. And as the difficulty certainly 
 does not lie in the capacity of the voice to repre- 
 sent any kind of sound, it can only be found in the 
 limited powers of metaphor, that is, in the capacity 
 of one thing to put us in mind of another. It will 
 be necessary then to show that there are thoughts 
 so essentially differing in kind from any of those 
 that have been shown to be capable of expression on 
 the principle of imitation, as to escape the infer-
 
 130 DUMBER OF IMITATIVE W0RD.3 
 
 ence in favour of the general possibility of tliat 
 mode of expression. Hitherto, however, no one 
 has ventured to bring the contest to such an 
 issue. The arguments of objectors have been 
 taken almost exclusively from cases where tlie 
 explanations offered by the supporters of the theory 
 are either ridiculous on the face of them, or are 
 founded in manifest blunder, or are too far-fetched 
 to afford satisfaction ; while the positive evidence 
 of the validity of the principle, arising from cases 
 where it is impossible to resist the evidence of an 
 imitative origin, is slurred over, as if the number 
 of such cases was too inconsiderable to merit atten- 
 tion in a comprehensive survey of language. 
 
 That the words of imitative origin are neither 
 inconsiderable in number, nor restricted in signi- 
 fication to any limited class of ideas, is sufficiently 
 shown by the examples given in the foregoing 
 pages. We cannot open a dictionary without 
 meeting with them, and in any piece of descrip- 
 tive writing they are found in abundance. Take 
 an instance from the first novel that comes to 
 hand : 
 
 " Then came a light pattering of feet, the flutter 
 of a muslin dress, the resonant bang of a heavj^ 
 door ; and the prettiest woman I had ever seen in
 
 KOT INCONSIDERABLE. 131 
 
 my life came tripping along tlie cliurchyard path.'" 
 — Sir Jasper's Tenant, ii. 131. 
 
 Here, without special intention on the part of 
 the writer, we have seven examples in five lines. 
 
 No doubt the number of words which remain 
 unexplained on this principle would constitute 
 much the larger portion of the dictionary, but this 
 is no more than should be expected by any reason- 
 able believer in the theory. As long as the imita- 
 tive power of a word is felt in speech it will be 
 kept pretty close to the original form. But when 
 the signification is diverted from the object of 
 imitation, and the word is used in a secondary 
 sense, it immediately becomes liable to corruption 
 from various causes, and the imitative character is 
 rapidly obscured. The imitative force of the 
 interjections ah ! or ach ! and ugh J mainly de- 
 pends upon the aspiration, but when the vocable 
 is no longer used directly to represent the cry of 
 pain or of shuddering, the sound of the aspirate is 
 changed to that of a hard guttural, as in ache (ake) 
 and nglg, and the consciousness of imitation is 
 wholly lost. 
 
 In savage life, when the communities are 
 small and ideas few, language is liable to rapid 
 change. To this effect we may cite the testimony
 
 132 ORIGIN OF WORDS 
 
 of a thoughtful traveller who had unusual oppor- 
 tunities of observation. " There are certain pecu- 
 liarities in Indian habits which lead to a quick 
 corruption of language and segregation of dialects. 
 When Indians are conversing among themselves 
 they seem to have pleasure in inventing new 
 modes of pronunciation and in distorting words. 
 It is amusing to notice how the whole party will 
 laugh when the wit of the circle perpetrates a new 
 slang term, and these words are very often re- 
 tained. I have noticed this during long voyages 
 made with Indian crews. When such alterations 
 occur amongst a family or horde which often live 
 many years without communication with the rest 
 of their tribe, the local corruption of language 
 becomes perpetuated. Single hordes belonging to 
 the same tribe and inhabiting the banks of the 
 same river thus become, in the course of many 
 years' isolation, unintelligible to other hordes, as 
 happens with the Collinas on the Jurua. I think 
 it very probable, therefore, that the disposition to 
 invent new words and new modes of pronunciation 
 added to the small population and habits of isola- 
 tion of hordes and tribes, are the causes of the won- 
 derful diversity of languages in South America.'^ — 
 Bates, Naturalist on the Amazons, i. 330, 
 
 But even in civilized life, where the habitual use
 
 EASILY OBSCURED. 133 
 
 of writing lias so strong a tendency to fix the forms 
 of language, words are continually changing in 
 pronunciation and in application from one gener- 
 ation to another ; and in no very long period com- 
 pared with the duration of man, the speech of the 
 ancestors becomes unintelligible to their descend- 
 ants. In such cases it is only the art of writing 
 that preserves the pedigree of the altered forms. 
 If English, French, and Spanish were barbarous 
 unwritten languages no one woukl dream of any 
 relation between bishop, eveque, and oescovo, all 
 immediate descendants of the Latin cjuscopifs. 
 Who, without knowledge of the intermediate 
 diurnns and giorno, would suspect that such a word 
 as jour could be derived from dies ? or without 
 written evidence would have thought of resolving 
 Goodhye into God be loith you (God b' w' ye), or 
 topsyturvy into topside the other way (top si^ t' o'er 
 way) ? or who would have detected the name of St 
 Olave in Tooley Street ? Suppose that in any of 
 these cases the word had been mimetic in its earlier 
 form, how vain it would have been to look for any 
 traces of imitation in the later ! If we allow the 
 influences which have produced such changes as 
 the above to operate through that vast lapse of 
 time required to mould out of a common stock such 
 languages as English, Welsh, and Russian, we
 
 134 COMPARISON OF WORDS 
 
 shall wonder rather at the large than the small 
 number of cases, in which traces of the original 
 imitation are still to be made out. 
 
 The letters of the alphabet have a strong analogy 
 with the case of language. The letters are signs 
 which represent articulate sounds through the 
 sense of sight, as words are signs which represent 
 every subject of thought through the sense of 
 hearing. Now the significance of the names by 
 which the letters are known in Hebrew and Greek 
 affords a strong presumption that they were 
 originally pictorial imitations of material things, 
 and the presumption is converted into moral cer- 
 tainty by the accidental preservation in one or two 
 cases of the original portraiture. The zigzag line 
 which represents the wavy surface of water when 
 used as the symbol of Aquarius among the signs 
 of the zodiac is found in Egyptian hieroglyphics 
 with the force of the letter n.* If we cut the sym- 
 
 * The evidence for the derivation of the letter N from 
 the symbol representing water (in Egyptian, itoun) cannot 
 be duly appreciated unless taken in conjunction with the 
 case of the letter M. The combination of the symbols 1 
 and 2, as shown at the head of tlie figure, occurs very fre- 
 quently in hieroglyphics with the force of M N. The lower 
 symbol is used for it, and thus in this combination the
 
 WITH LETTERS. 133 
 
 bol down to the three last strokes of the zigzag we 
 shall have the n of the early Greek inscriptions, 
 which does not materially differ from the capital 
 N of the present day. 
 
 But no one from the mere form of the letter 
 could have suspected an intention of representing 
 water. Nor is there one of the letters, the actual 
 form of which, would aflford us the least assistance 
 
 upper symbol undoubtedly has the force of m, although it 
 is said to be never used independently for that letter. 
 
 2AA/W\ j V\^ 
 
 9 N ioV\ 111/] Ul2 
 
 Now if the two symbols he epitomized by cutting them 
 down to their extremity, as a lion is represented (fig. 13) by 
 his head and fore-legs, it will leave figures 3 and 4, which 
 are identical with the M and N of the early Phoenician and 
 Greek. Figures 5, 6, 7, are forms of Phoenician M from 
 Gesenius ; 8, ancient Greek M ; 9, Greek N from Gesenius ; 
 10 and 11 from inscriptions in the British Museum; 12, 
 PhcEnician N,
 
 136 INFERENCE IN FAVOUR 
 
 in guessing at the object it was meant to represent. 
 Why then should it be made a difficulty in admit- 
 ting the imitative origin of the oral signs, that the 
 aim at imitation can be detected in only a third or 
 a fifth, or whatever the proportion may be, of the 
 radical elements of our speech ? If imitation is the 
 only intelligible origin of language, the instances 
 in which it throws no light on the signification 
 of the word are only examples of our ignorance. 
 However numerous the words may be of whose 
 origin we know nothing, they can no more be cited 
 to limit the reach of a principle which is known to 
 be efiicient in other cases, than the assertion of a 
 hundred witnesses that they had not seen a murder 
 committed, can avail against the evidence of one 
 who did. 
 
 I find then that a considerable proportion of the 
 roots of language can be explained on the only in- 
 telligible principle ofsignification, viz. the indication 
 of something that shall serve to put the hearer in 
 mind of the thing to be signified ; as when the deaf 
 and dumb man points to his lip to signify red, or 
 the nurse makes a sound like the lowing of the 
 animal to signify a cow. But the imitative prin- 
 ciple imprints no ear-mark upon its progeny, in- 
 delibly marking the stock throughout the entire
 
 OF OXOMATOPtEIA. 137 
 
 period of growth. On tlie contrary, it is seen that 
 the evidence of an imitative origin is easily 
 obKterated by the development and wear and tear 
 of language, and progress of metaphor, and can 
 often be recovered only by a careful comparison 
 with obsolete forms and foreign correlatives. And 
 since I find that we are able, with our imper- 
 fect knowledge of the links of language, to demon- 
 strate an imitative origin in numerous cases where 
 there is no consciousness of imitation in the daily 
 use of the words, I conclude that a much larger 
 proportion (and why not the entire stock ?) might 
 be accounted for on the same principle if the whole 
 pedigree of language was open before us. But if 
 our progenitors might so have stumbled into lan- 
 guage by the natural exercise of their faculties, it 
 is surely irrational to suppose that they were lifted 
 over the first difficulties of the path by any super- 
 natural go-cart, whether in the shape of direct in- 
 spiration, or of some temporary instinct specially 
 lent for the purpose and since allowed to die out. 
 
 It cannot be denied that the dilficulty of imagin- 
 ing a speechless condition of mankind does oppose 
 a serious obstacle to any rational solution of the 
 problem. And this difficulty may arise either 
 I'rom an excusable repugnance to think of Man in
 
 138 A SPEECHLESS CONDITION 
 
 SO brutisli a condition as that to wliicli lie would 
 be reduced by the want of speech, or from mere 
 inability to realize the mental condition of an in- 
 telligent being whose thoughts did not clothe 
 themselves more or less in words. 
 
 The first objection has been well answered by 
 Mr Farrar, who points out that we ought to form 
 our judgment of the mode in which it has seemed 
 fit to the Creator to deal with the education of 
 Man, from the evidence of fact, and not from the 
 standard of our own feelings as to what is de- 
 manded by the dignity of our race. If savages are 
 found in a condition of life little above the brutes, 
 it is plain that the existence of Man in such a con- 
 dition cannot be incompatible either with the good- 
 ness of God or with his views of the dignity of the 
 human race. Nor have we any pretension to 
 claim for our ancestors a higher consideration in 
 the eyes of Providence than is accorded to the 
 Australian or the Negro. God is no respecter of 
 persons or of races. We have only the choice of 
 two alternatives : we must either suppose that 
 Man was created in a civilized state and was per- 
 mitted to fall back into the degraded condition 
 which we witness among savage tribes ; or that he 
 started from the lowest grade, and rose under
 
 OF MAN CONXEIVABLE. 139 
 
 favourable circumstances by the cultivation of his 
 natural faculties to the condition of civilized life. 
 It is not easy to see why the first of these supposi- 
 tions should be considered more to the honour of 
 the Pivine Providence than the second, although 
 it may gratify some to think that their progenitors 
 at least were at no time in the condition of the 
 naked savage. Yet the latter alternative is more 
 in accordance with everything we know of the pro- 
 gress of the race in the arts of life. History every- 
 where shows us the advance from barbarism to 
 civilization. The step from savage to barbarous 
 life is beyond the reach of history. 
 
 We are accustomed to think of our ancestors as 
 the rudest barbarians, and if we could go a stage 
 further back and believe that we descended from 
 the savage tribes, the discovery of whose rude flint 
 weapons among the bones of the extinct races of 
 animals with which they struggled, has lately 
 opened a new chapter in history, it would probably 
 be a small additional shock to carry on our 
 thoughts to a period when the struggling savage 
 had not even attained the use of speech. 
 
 Where the difficulty of conceiving a speechless 
 condition of the human race is merely intellectual, 
 it may be helped by considering the case of an in-
 
 140 THOUGHT 
 
 tcllio:ent do^j. A dos^ thinks of the absent as we 
 do, and is subject to the same mental law that as- 
 sociates the things in thought that have been con- 
 nected in actual experience. When the dog sees 
 his master put on his hat he knows that he is 
 going to walk, and he shows his pleasure at the 
 thoughts of being taken with him. The dog 
 dreams ; he passes mentally in sleep through scenes 
 similar to those which constitute his waking life. 
 He imderstands signs, although he is without the 
 instinct of making them. Even in our own case 
 there is much of our thoughts which is wholly in- 
 dependent of words, as when we think of a land- 
 scape, a picture, a colour, an air of music. Now 
 all that we can think without words, all that the 
 mind of the dog can compass, would lie within the 
 capacity of the human mute. There would then 
 be ample stores in his mind on which the daily 
 business of life would make it desirable to commu- 
 nicate with his fellows. And if he resembled the 
 deaf and dumb of the present day it is certain that 
 he would sooner or later devise signs adequate for 
 that purpose. " The mother tongue (so to speak)," 
 says Mr Tyler in his very interesting work on the 
 Early History of Mankind, " of the deaf and 
 dumb is the lang-uage of signs. The evidence of
 
 WITHOUT SPEECH. 141 
 
 the best observers tends to prove that tliey are 
 capable of developing tlie gesture-language out of 
 their own minds without the aid of speaking men." 
 And to this effect he cites Kruse, who was himself 
 deaf and dumb, and a well-known teacher of the 
 deaf and dumb. "Thus the deaf and dumb must 
 have a language, without which no thought can be 
 brought to pass. But here nature soon comes to 
 his help. What strikes him most, or what makes 
 a distinction to him between one thing and another, 
 such distinctive signs of objects are at once signs 
 by which he knows these objects, and knows them 
 again; they become tokens of things. And whilst 
 he silently elaborates the signs he has found for 
 single objects, that is, whilst he describes for him- 
 self their forms in the air, or imitates them in 
 thought with hands, fingers, and gestures, he 
 developes for himself suitable signs to represent 
 ideas, which serve him as a means of fixing ideas 
 of difierent kinds in his mind and recalling them 
 to his memory. And thus he makes himself a 
 language, the so-called gesture-language, and with 
 these few scanty and imperfect signs a way for 
 thought is already broken, and with his thought 
 as it now opens out, the language cultivates and 
 forms itself further and further."~Tyler, p. 20.
 
 142 ABSTRACTION DEPENDENT ON SPEECH. 
 
 The range of tliouglit would be extremely limited 
 without the aid of some fixed symbols to rest on 
 as it proceeds, and thus the use of language has 
 been compared by Sir AVilliara Hamilton to the 
 masonry by which an engineer secures his work 
 as he tunnels in sandy ground. The tunnel is 
 continually driven a little in advance, but all pro- 
 gress will be stopped by the crumbling in of the 
 ground unless every foot of the boring is supported 
 by the solid brickwork as it proceeds. So it is 
 with thought and language. Without the aid of 
 language, or of something equivalent, it would be 
 possible for the mind to make little or no progress 
 in the process of abstraction beyond the sensible 
 images which supply the first materials of thought. 
 Now, gestures are the readiest means of repre- 
 senting by far the majority of things. We see, in 
 fact, that wherever the need of communication has 
 been felt between tribes that were " tongueless" to 
 each other, the want has been supplied by the use 
 of gestures. " It is well known, " says Tyler^ 
 " that the Indians of North America, whose noraade 
 habits and immense variety of languages must con- 
 tinually make it needful for them to communicate 
 with tribes whose language they cannot speak, 
 carry the gesture-language to a high degree of
 
 GESTURE-LANGUAGE. 143 
 
 perfection, and the same signs serve as a medium 
 of converse from Hudson's Bay to the Gulf of 
 Mexico. Several writers make mention of the 
 Indian Pantomime, and it has been carefully de- 
 scribed in the account of Major Long's expedition, 
 and more recently by Captain Burton. The latter 
 writer considers it to be a mixture of natural and 
 conventional signs, but so far as I can judge from 
 the hundred and fifty or so which he describes, and 
 those I find mentioned elsewhere, I do not believe 
 there is a really arbitrary sign amongst them. 
 There are only about half a dozen of which the 
 meaning is not at once evident, and even these ap- 
 pear on close inspection to be natural signs, perhaps 
 a little abbreviated or conventionalized. I am sure 
 that a skilled deaf-and-dumb talker would under- 
 stand an Indian interpreter, and be himself under- 
 stood at first sight with scarcely any difficulty." — 
 p. 35. Burton says that the forefinger extended from 
 the mouth means to tell truth : " one word ;" but 
 two fingers means to tell lies : " double tongue." 
 And Tyler says he found that deaf-and-dumb chil- 
 dren understood this Indian sign for lie quite as 
 well as their own. 
 
 The practical use of commimication by gestures 
 in ancient times is illustrated by a story which
 
 144 GESTURE-LANGUAGE. 
 
 Lucian relates of a certain bai'barian prince of 
 Pontus who was at Nero's court, and saw a panto- 
 mime perform so well, that, though he could not 
 understand the songs which the player was accom- 
 panying with his gestures, he could follow the 
 performance from the acting alone. When after- 
 wards asked to choose what he would have for a 
 present, the prince begged to have the player 
 given to bira, saying that it was difficult to get 
 interpreters to communicate with some of the 
 tribes in his neighbourhood, but that this man 
 would answer the purpose perfectly. 
 
 It is probable that the instinct of sign-making may 
 have become more deeply ingrained in the mind by 
 the use of speech through a thousand generations, 
 but if it were somewhat less decided in the earliest 
 period, it would only make the development of the 
 gesture-language a slower process. Sooner or 
 later the use of significant gestures would infallibly 
 begin, and while some objects were easily imitated 
 by drawing in the air or by actions of the arms 
 and body, the aid of the voice would be required 
 for the imitation of sounds, and would be found 
 convenient for the representation of things of 
 which sounds constituted the most striking charac- 
 teristic, as of animals, for example, from their cries.
 
 GESTURE-SIGNS. 145 
 
 Thus a mixed system of communication would 
 gradually be developed, consisting- of gestures 
 aided more or less by the exercise of the voice. 
 But the superior convenience of the vocal element 
 would give it a continually increasing imjDortance 
 in comparison with gesture-signs, until at last the 
 position of the two would be completely reversed, 
 and communication would be carried on, as is seen 
 among savages, by speech with the aid of gesticu- 
 lation. Thus Captain Cook says of the Tahitians, 
 after mentioning their habit of counting on their 
 fingers, that " in other instances, we observed that 
 when they were conversing with each other they 
 joined signs to their words, which were so express- 
 ive that a stranger might easily apprehend their 
 meaning." And Charlevoix describes in almost 
 the same words the expressive pantomime with 
 which an Indian orator accompanied his discourse. 
 —Tyler, p. 44. 
 
 A very few gesture-signs remain in use among 
 ourselves, as beckoning with the finger or holding 
 it up as if threatening with a stick, nodding or 
 shaking the head in token of assent or dissent, 
 joining hands in token of amity, snapping the 
 fingers in token of contempt. The meaning of 
 
 this last gesture, which is by no means apparent 
 10
 
 146 SYMBOLISM OF GESTURE. 
 
 on the face of it, is plausibly explained by Mr 
 Tyler, who tells us that the sams sign made quite 
 gently, as if rolling some tiny object away between 
 the finger and thumb, or the sign of flipping it 
 away with the thumb nail and forefinger, are well- 
 understood deaf-and-dumb gestures denoting any- 
 thing tiny, insignificant, contemptible. But he 
 surely misses the true significance of the hands 
 being joined in prayer, when he explains that 
 gesture as if intended to represent the act of ward- 
 ing- oi^ a blow. For that would belong to the 
 attitude of resistance and defence, whereas prayer 
 calls for the expression of entire submission, so 
 clearly shown in the figure of prostration. When 
 the suppliant kneels and holds up his hands with 
 the palms joined, he represents a captive who 
 proves the completeness of his submission by offer- 
 ing up his hands to be bound by the victor. It is 
 the pictorial representation of the Latin dare 
 matins, to signify submission. 
 
 It seems that Grammar is altogether the pro- 
 duct of speech. The language of gesture possesses 
 no inflections ; it makes no distinction between 
 verb and noun and adjective. The same sign 
 stands for walk, walked, walking, iimlker. If a 
 deaf-and-dumb person meant to state that a black
 
 GESTURE-LANGUAGE. 147 
 
 handsome horse trots and canters, he would signal, 
 horse-black- handsorae-trot-canter. Each sign, like 
 the interjections of speech, presents a sensible 
 image to the mind, to be understood literally or 
 figuratively. The sign for butter is a pretence of 
 spreading it on the palm of one hand with the 
 finger of the other ; for man, the motion of taking 
 off the hat. To hold the first two fingers apart 
 like the letter Y and dart the finger-tips from the 
 eyes is to see. Thinking is expressed by passing 
 sharply the forefinger across the left breast as an 
 image of a thought passing through the heart. To 
 signify green the left hand is held flat to represent 
 the ground, and the tips of the fingers of the other 
 hand are pushed up beyond the edge to represent 
 the growth of grass. For children the flat hand 
 is held low doAvn towards the ground and gradually 
 raised to represent their growth, and the same 
 sign stands for great ; while little is signified by 
 first holding the hand high and then depressing 
 it. Truth, as straightforwards speaking, is sig- 
 nified by moving the finger straightforwards from 
 the mouth ; while the finger is moved to one side 
 to express lie, as sideways speaking.* 
 
 * It is remarkable that the word lie itself seems to have its 
 origin in the same figure. The Lettish leeks, crooked (from 
 10 *
 
 148 GESTURE-LANGUAGE 
 
 The construction of the sentence in gesture- 
 language is to be gathered from the order of utter- 
 ance. " That which seems most important to the 
 deaf-mute," says Schmalz, "he always sets before 
 the rest, and that which seems to him superfluous he 
 leaves out. For instance, to say, My father gave 
 me an apple, he makes the sign for apple, then 
 for father, then for T, without adding that for 
 give." A look of inquir}^ converts an assertion 
 into a question. The interrogations wlio, iclikli, 
 are made by looking or pointing about in an 
 inquiring manner, in fact, by a number of unsuc- 
 cessful attempts to say he, that. The deaf-and- 
 dumb child's way of asking Who has beaten you, 
 would be, You beaten, who was it ? Instead of 
 asking What did you have for dinner ? he would 
 put it. Did you have soup ? porridge ? and so 
 forth. The deaf-mute may be taught a sign for 
 the verb to be, but he makes no use of it in 
 
 leekt, to bend), is used in the sense of Avrong, erroneous, 
 false, uneven, and in composition is applied to signify a Will- 
 o'-the-wisp, a Tvig or false hair, a by-Avay, a painted face or 
 a mask, &c. In Esthonian it takes the form of I'lig, and in 
 addition to several of the foregoing senses, when joined to 
 paiaius, speech [liigpaiatus}, it signifies a lie, and thus afi'ordg 
 a plausible explanation of the German liige and English lie.
 
 NOT ADAPTED FOR ABSTRACTION. 149 
 
 familiar intercourse. To make is too abstract an 
 idea for him. To sliow that the tailor makes the 
 coat, or that the carpenter makes the table, he 
 would represent the tailor sewing the coat and the 
 carpenter sawing and planing the table. Such a 
 proposition as, Rain makes the land fruitful, would 
 not come into his way of thinking : rain falls, 
 plants grow, would be his pictorial expression. — 
 Tyler, 31. 
 
 The low capacity of the gesture-language for 
 the expression of abstract conceptions throws 
 great doubt on the analysis of the Sanscrit gram- 
 marians, who for the most part attribute to their 
 primary roots meanings of the most general kind, 
 such as to go, which alone is given for forty or 
 fifty of the roots. We never, says Professor 
 Milller, meet with primitive roots expressive of 
 such special acts as raining, thundering, hailing, 
 sneezing. (2nd Series, p. 352.) 
 
 Professor Miiller would persuade us that 
 thunder, instead of being connected with such 
 words as Old IS'orse clunr, dynr, rumbling noise, 
 crash, din, English din, dun, stun, or Latin timdere, 
 is derived from the Sanscrit root tan, which from 
 signifying stretch is used to express " that tension 
 of the air which gives rise to sound." So that
 
 150 EARLIEST FORMS OF SPEECH 
 
 thunder, of all things in the world, remained with- 
 out a name until so philosophic an idea could be 
 entertained as the dependence of sound upon the 
 elasticity of the air ! But if any object whatever 
 was named from imitation there would be none 
 more likely to take its designation from that prin- 
 ciple than thunder. And in fact the significant 
 element in the German form of the word, donner, 
 is identical with the imitative syllable used in 
 Italian to represent the loud clang of bells, don- 
 don. In the same language tontonare, a manifest 
 onomatopoeia, is to make a thundering noise, to 
 murmur and grumble. — Florio. 
 
 Now wendeth this ost in wardes ten, 
 Ful wel araied with noblemen. 
 The dust arose, the contre had wonder. 
 The erthe domd like the thonder. 
 
 Sir Generides, 1. 3774. 
 
 Yoruba, dondon, a kind of drum. 
 
 It is well known that there is small power of 
 abstraction among barbarous people, whose words 
 for the most part signify things apprehensible by 
 sense. They are said also to be very poor in 
 general terms, which is not quite the same thing. 
 " The Malay, " says Mr Crawford, " is very defi- 
 cient in abstract words, and the usual train of ideas
 
 NOT ABSTRACT. 
 
 151 
 
 of the people wlio speak it does not lead them to 
 make a frequent use even of the few they possess. 
 They have copious words for colours, yet borrow 
 the word colour, warna, from the Sanscrit. With 
 this poverty of the abstract is united an abundance 
 of the concrete." The Australians have no generic 
 word for fish, bird, or tree ; and the Eskimo, 
 though he has verbs for seal fishing, whale fishing, 
 and every other kind of fishing, has no verb meaning 
 simply to fish.* Where the things to be named 
 are natural objects, it does not require a greater 
 effort of abstraction to conceive a more comprehen- 
 sive, or generic, than a more restricted distinction. 
 The conception of an object as a thing of a certain 
 kind depends upon our recognition in it of the 
 points of resemblance which constitute our notion 
 of the kind in question. And if these generic 
 features are matters apprehensible by sense, as well 
 as the specific distinctions by which the genus is 
 broken up into subordinate kinds, it will be matter 
 of chance whether the genus first gets a name or 
 the species. Thus the power of flight which is 
 characteristic of birds (speaking broadly) may be 
 recognized by the same direct observation which 
 distinguishes the special features of a goose and a 
 * Farrar, Chapters on Language, 199.
 
 152 
 
 EARLIEST FORMS OF SPEECH 
 
 duck, and we cannot doubt tliat the feathered race 
 (whether they received a name or not) would be 
 thought of as distinct from other animals, at least 
 as early as the discrimination of any particular 
 kind of bird. It is certain, at any rate, that man 
 would have laiown such a genus as a hawk before 
 he distinguished a kestrel or a sparrow-hawk ; he 
 would have been familiar v/ith a wagtail before he 
 recognized the distinction between a pied wagtail 
 and a grey one. But the idea of colour as the 
 generic character, compared with blue and red and 
 yellow as subordinate species, stands on a different 
 footing. I can only apprehend an object as 
 coloured by seeing it as blue or red or yellow. 
 Colour in general is that which is common to 
 these subordinate species. It cannot be exhibited 
 to the bodily eye in a separate form, and can only 
 be made an object of thought by an effort which 
 appears to be beyond the natural requirements of 
 the barbarian mind, or of those who are confined 
 to the language of gesture. 
 
 Thus it would appear that the use of speech is 
 essential to any progress in abstract thought. As 
 long as we were without names for blue or red or 
 yellow, we could only think of one of those colours 
 by recalling apicture of the hue to the remembrance
 
 NOT ABSTKACT. 153 
 
 or imagination, an operation in wliich the mind 
 would be fully occupied with what was before it for 
 the time being, with no spare attention to bestow 
 on the comparison of the present with any absent 
 object. But when the particular object is asso- 
 ciated with a certain name, it can be kept before 
 the mind by a much slighter effort, and the grasp 
 of the understanding is rendered proportionally 
 more comprehensive. When we have names for 
 blue and red and yellow, we are able by their 
 means to retain the conceptions before the mind 
 while we compare them with each other or with 
 other things. We observe that they all have some- 
 thing in common which does not belong to round 
 or square, and thus we rise to the abstract concep- 
 tions of colour and of shape. 
 
 But if language is thus important in the forma- 
 tion of abstract conceptions, it is hardly possible 
 that the earliest roots should have those abstract 
 significations which are attributed to them by the 
 Sanscrit scholars. We cannot doubt that language 
 would proceed pari passu with the development of 
 thought. And as thought undoubtedly proceeds 
 from the concrete to the abstract, we may be sure 
 that language would follow in the same direction. 
 
 I have quoted largely from Mr Tyler's instruct-
 
 154 GROWTH OF CO^'VICTIOX 
 
 ive chapters of gesture-signs because a familiarity 
 with that mode of expression brings home to the 
 mind, in a way that nothing else can do, the possi- 
 bility of a natural origin of language as an his- 
 torical fact. No one has any difficulty in under- 
 standing the origin of gesture-signs, and though 
 there are some of these, such as nodding and shak- 
 ing the head, that we use every day with as little 
 conception of the principle of their significance as 
 we have of the words yes and no, yet it never oc- 
 curred to any one to suppose that they had any more 
 abstruse origin than there presentation of some for- 
 gotten action typical of acceptance or rejection. 1 
 only ask that the inquirer should act on the same 
 principles in his search for the origin of the vocal 
 signs, and when he finds that a sensible portion of 
 these may be explained on the same imitative 
 principle, that he should not at once look out for a 
 diffisrent origin for those which remain unex- 
 plained, but should be ready to admit the same 
 presumption of uniformity of causation, and to 
 make the same allowance for the disfigurement of 
 the symbol by the wear and tear of ages, as in the 
 case of the gesture-signs. Thus all analogy tends 
 to the belief that the whole of language would be 
 found to spring from an imitative source, if the
 
 WITH STUDY OF SUBJECT. 155 
 
 entire pedigree of every word were open before us. 
 It is a question of probabilities as to matter of fact, 
 and though it may be considered that the theory 
 will not be conclusively established until it has 
 been made to account for every word of the lan- 
 guage, yet our conviction in the soundness of the 
 theory will continually grow in strength as we 
 study the subject, and learn from repeated ex- 
 perience the light it throws upon the significance 
 of words.
 
 156 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 The following table is exti-acted from a paper 
 by Professor J. C. E. Buscliman, originally pub- 
 lished in the Transactions of the Berlin Academy 
 der Wissenschaften for 1852, and translated by Mr 
 Campbell Clarke, in the Proceedings of the Philo- 
 logical Society, Yol. vi. p. 188. 
 
 PA, FATHER. 
 
 pa — Karean, Malayan, Movimi, New Zealand, 
 
 Tungusian, Timmanee. 
 ba — Bullom, Hottentot, Kirautee (India), Mala- 
 
 gasi, Shilli (Barbary). 
 bap — Arinzi (ontheYenesei), Bengali, Canarese. 
 pap — Nicobar. 
 bab — Arabic, Begarmi, Hindustani, Kurd, Eo- 
 
 mansh. 
 papa — Bullom, Carib, Darien, &c.
 
 APPENDIX. 157 
 
 paba — Muysca. 
 
 bapa — Bali, Javanese, Malayan, &c. 
 
 baba — Albanian, Arabic, Bengali, Carib, Kabyle, 
 
 Turkish, &c. 
 bawa — Gujeratti, Hindustani, Malabar, 
 fafe — Susu. 
 fabe — Seracole. 
 
 PA, MOTHER. 
 
 ba, fa, mba, bamo — Mandingo. 
 
 fafa, fawa — Japanese. 
 
 papai — Araucanian. 
 
 be, bi, bo, bibi — Galibi, Otomi. 
 
 baba — Nepaul. 
 
 bama — Fulah. 
 
 AP, FATHER, 
 
 ab — Arabic, Ethiopic, Hebrew, Siberian. 
 
 apa — Ava, Bhoteea, Hungarian. 
 
 appa — Bhutan, Cingalese, N. American, Tshu- 
 
 ktshi. 
 aba — Ethiopic, &c. 
 abba — Galla, Telinga. 
 avva — Walachian. 
 epe — Koriak. 
 ipa — Arinzi.
 
 158 APPENDIX, 
 
 obo, abara, abbeda — Siberian, 
 abob — Hottentot, Korana. 
 abami — Korea, 
 ubaba — Fingo, Zulu, 
 ahban, appin — Tamul. 
 
 AP, MOTHER. 
 
 aniba — Bengalee, Vogul. 
 
 aapu — Kurilian. 
 
 ambu — Madura. 
 
 ewa — Samoiede. 
 
 ibu — Javanese, Malayan, &c. 
 
 abai — Tsheremiss. 
 
 ambok — Javanese. 
 
 TA, FATHER. 
 
 ta — Botocudo, Mexican, Mandingo, Otomi. 
 
 da— Shilli (Barbary). 
 
 nda — Tapua (Africa). 
 
 the — Hottentot. 
 
 tat — Bengalee, Celtic, Congo, &c. 
 
 taat, tattil — Esthonian. 
 
 tad — Welsh. 
 
 dad — English. 
 
 lata — Angola, Congo, Polish, &c. 
 
 tantai — Minetari.
 
 APPENDIX. 159 
 
 dada — Mandara, Sliilli, &c. 
 
 tatai — Mordvin. 
 
 dade, tati — Africa. 
 
 dadi — Gipsy. 
 
 tato — Karelian. 
 
 titi — Japanese. 
 
 tata — Rocky Mountains. 
 
 TA, IMOTHER. 
 
 de, nde — Jaloof. 
 
 tai — Bengalee, New Zealand. 
 
 dai — Gipsy. 
 
 deda — Georgian. 
 
 tite — Cora. 
 
 AT, FATHER. 
 
 at — Celtic. 
 
 aat-^- Albanian. 
 
 ata — Turkish, Moko (Afr.), Assiniboine. 
 
 atta — Gothic, Greek. 
 
 otah, otta — Dakotah. 
 
 aita — Basque. 
 
 atya — Hungarian. 
 
 AT, MOTHER. 
 
 hada— Galla.
 
 IGO APPENDIX. 
 
 etta — Tartar, 
 ote — Zamuca. 
 
 MA, MOTHER. 
 
 ma — Bengalee, Celtic, Javanese, Malayan, Afri- 
 can, Thibetan. 
 
 me — Tonquin, Otomi, Siamese. 
 
 mi — Burmese. 
 
 mu — Chinese. 
 
 mai — Hindustani, Portuguese, Sindhee. 
 
 mai-ka — Illyrian. 
 
 mau — Annamite, Coptic. 
 
 m aia — B razilian . 
 
 mam — Arabic, Breton, Permian, Welsh. 
 
 mama — Angola , Congo, Hindustani, Hottentot, 
 Peruvian, &c. 
 
 mamma — Albanian, Finnish, Shilli, &c. 
 
 mamo — Karelian. 
 
 meme — Bali. 
 
 memme — Koriak. 
 
 moma — Lithuanian. 
 
 MA, FATHER. 
 
 ma — Ende, Madura, 
 mi — Kroo. 
 mu — Georjjian.
 
 APPENDIX. KU 
 
 mam — Xew Holland. 
 
 mama, rauma — Georgian, Iberian. 
 
 mamma — Kartulinian . 
 
 mamman, mammer — Xew Holland. 
 
 AM, MOTHER. 
 
 am — Ostiak, Yogul. 
 
 em — Hebrew. 
 
 iim — Korana. 
 
 ama — Basque, Malayan, &c. 
 
 amma — Cingalese, Samoiede, &c. 
 
 liamma — Fula. 
 
 amme — Malabar. 
 
 em ma — Estlionian. 
 
 imma — Kabyle. 
 
 umma — Bhoteea. 
 
 uhma — Caffre. 
 
 amam — Eskimo. 
 
 AM, FATHER 
 
 ama, amma — Philippines, Simda, Formosa, &c. 
 ami, ammu, ammen — Siberian. 
 
 NA, MOTHER. 
 
 na — Maya. 
 
 mna — Ashanteo. 
 
 11
 
 102 APPENDIX; 
 
 ni — Croo. 
 
 nu — Kyen (India). 
 
 nah-hah, nohah — N. America. 
 
 nan — Mexican. 
 
 nana — Darien. 
 
 nanna — Pottawotami. 
 
 nene — Tartar. 
 
 neni — Fulah. 
 
 nine — Turkish. 
 
 nama — Benin. 
 
 NA, FATHEK. 
 
 nna — Eboe. 
 
 nan — iVlbanian, Wendish. 
 
 nanna — Albanian. 
 
 ninna — Blackfoots. 
 
 nang — Africa. 
 
 nape — Maipure. 
 
 AN, MOTHER. 
 
 ana — Tartar, Turkish, Turgusian, 
 
 anah — Tuscarora. 
 
 anna — Delaware, &c., Tartar. 
 
 ena, oni — Ashantee, &c. 
 
 enna — Guinea. 
 
 eenah — Dacotah.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 ina — Philippines, &c. 
 onnv — Tungusian. 
 anan — Huron, 
 inan — Dacotah. 
 unina — Caffre. 
 ananak — Greenland. 
 
 AN, FATHER. 
 
 anneh — Seneca. 
 
 ina — Ceram, Guarami. 
 
 una — Aino. 
 
 163
 
 164 
 
 II. 
 
 Extract from Augustiiius de Dialectica, meu- 
 tioued at p. 108. 
 
 Sroici autumant nullum esse verbum eujus non 
 eerta ratio explicari possit. Et quia hoc modo 
 suggerere facile fuit, si diceres hoc infinitum esse 
 quibus verbis alterius verbi originem interpretaris, 
 eorum rursus a te originem qutcrendam esse, 
 donee perveniatur eo ut res cum sono verbi aliqua 
 similitudine concinnat, ut cum dicimus, seris tin- 
 nitum, equorura hinnitum, ovium balatum, tubarum 
 clangorem, stridorera catenarum ; perspicis enim 
 ha;c verba ita sonare ut ipsoe res qua) his verbis 
 significantur. Sed quia sunt res quae non sonant, 
 in his siuiilitudinem tactus valere, ut si leniter vel 
 aspere sensum tangunt, lenitas vel asperitas litera- 
 rum ut tangit auditum sic eis nominu peperit: 
 ut ipsura lenc cum dicimus leniter sonat, quis item 
 et afiperitateii) non etipso nomine asperam judicet?
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 165 
 
 lene est auribus cum dicimus vohiptas, asperum 
 cum dicimus cnix. Ita res ipsae afficiunt ut verba 
 sentiuntur. Mel quara suaviter gustura res ipsa, 
 tam leniter nomine tangit auditum ; acre in utroquo 
 asperum est. Luna et repres ut audiuntur verba sic 
 ilia tanguntur. 
 
 Ilaec quasi cunabula verborum esse crediderunt 
 ubi sensus rerum cum sonorum sensu concordarent. 
 Hinc ad ipsarum inter se rerura similitudinera pro- 
 cessisse licentiam nominandi ; ut cum verbi causa 
 crux propterea dicta sit quod ipsius verbi asperitas 
 cum doloris quem crux efficit asperitate concordat ; 
 crura tamen non propter asperitatem doloris, sed 
 quod longitudine atque duritia inter membra 
 cetera sint ligno sirailiora, sic appellata sint.
 
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