Part 10
These studies are meant to be purely objective, and have no concern with politics or policies, regarding undesirable immigration, or issues of a similar nature. But language is nationality, and nationality language, always, in the first instance; and the purer a language is spoken, the truer, purer, and better such nationality will be expressed and represented by those who thus speak it. What an incentive to aim at the purest and best expression of language, for any people! But it will be said that language is subject to change. If it is, so will the people who speak it to some extent change with it. Such change, however, is in its dress, in words mainly; rarely and at long intervals, and under very peculiar circumstances only, in its expression. As a matter of fact, I doubt whether a change of the _idiomatic expression ever_ takes place.
The difference existing between the English spoken in the United States and the mother country might be cited as an example. The idiomatic expression is precisely the same. But the necessary self-reliance of the first settlers, the privation, the barter and exchange, the vast extent of the territory of this country, the greater independence enjoyed by its people, etc., might be named as reasons for the greater dash and freedom, together with a possible want of culture, as compared with the language spoken by educated Englishmen, prevailing in its utterance.
The same influences prevail regarding the general appearance, motions, and characteristic traits of these respective nations. Though closely allied and connected in a specific, and very nearly allied to each other in a general sense, there is that which distinguishes the English of the old world from those of the new, and which can be easily recognized.
Being centrifugal, the English idiom, octopus-like, embraces anything and everything that comes within the radius of its omnivorous capacity, without, however, losing its original character. It is like a fisherman who has hung out his net in the ocean, taking in all that comes along; or like the sea itself, greedy without end. It has no scruples about roots and construction, but construes everything according to its wants and adapts it to its uses as it comes along from any quarter.
These adopted children, these waifs, however, it must not be lost sight of, before they become integral parts of English speech must submit to a change of their original idiomatic expression. No matter who came--Celts, Romans, Angles, Saxons, or French--the people of the British Islands, while adopting their _terms_ of expression, remained true to their original _idiomatic_ expression. As this country absorbs people from the whole world and makes one homogeneous American nation of them, so has the English language absorbed, and is still absorbing, words from every other people's language, and has transformed them into one homogeneous language of its own.
Comparative philology, if it wants to accomplish that which would be most worthy of its efforts, will have to come down to these strong and basic roots of language.
The German language, whose idiomatic expression is centripetal, on the other hand, does not possess the same capacity for adopting foreign words and adapting them to its idiom. When it does adopt them, as, for instance, those of French origin, they are pronounced, not in the German, but, as far as the German people are capable of so doing, in the French manner. They could not, in fact, be pronounced in the German manner, the German language being a close corporation, so to say, which does not admit of any foreign shareholders; while the English language is a company open to all comers. While it is the endeavor of Germans to _purify_ their language by expelling as far as possible any foreign word and element therefrom, Anglo-Saxons are constantly adopting new words from foreign languages. It would be equal to the labor of Sisyphus for Anglo-Saxons to endeavor to purify their language from foreign words, in the same sense that Germans are attempting to purify theirs.
It appears to me that the capacity of England for successful colonization is largely due to the centrifugal force inherent in its language, while the want of success of Germany for the same purpose is due to the absence of this force. Anglo-Saxon government tends toward decentralization, German toward centralization. I say this in spite of the fact that Germany is still divided into many principalities; the fact of its adherence to this undesirable condition being a proof of the correctness of this assertion rather than otherwise--Germans not being able to readily get out of that in which they are once rooted. In regard to governing peoples in distant territories or colonies, this tendency is of importance. English government, being undemonstrative, is more effective than German, which is demonstrative, meddlesome, and therefore offensive; the former being material and practical, the latter immaterial and inclined to be visionary.
In a word, where are we to find explanations regarding national traits of character except through inner motive powers, productive of results individual as well as national? There is no factor which exercises an influence upon a nation as a unit so wide in extent and of so powerful a nature as that of language. It is the _only_ motive power, in fact, which every member of a nation shares with every other member thereof, but not with any member of any foreign nation.
IDIOMATIC EXPRESSION
Although it is a well known fact that every language has an idiomatic expression, an intonation of its own, I am not aware of any attempt ever having been made at definitely stating what such expression, or intonation, really consists in; and in what respect it differs, as between one language and another. Yet this fact should be the most important of all in connection with ethnological studies. It is necessary to know what a people's idiomatic expression is before we can begin to make a study of its language, in comparison with that of any other people, by which we may expect to arrive at conclusions of any real value in an ethnological sense.
In comparison with idiomatic expression, the study of the roots of words and their derivation, it appears to me, is of but secondary importance; idiomatic expression being the _kernel_ in which the tree of national expression had its incipiency, its origin. It is the life which pulsates through its veins, in which it has its stay and maintenance; the nerves which tingle with its intelligence, its genius, its soul. Take away this soul, and it ceases to exist. For every language there must have been a strong impulse making an impression before there could have been any expression at all. This impulse must have been of so powerful and continuous a nature as to have left its impression upon the minds of a sufficiently large number of people to form the nucleus for the expression of a specific language, and, in so doing, constituting such people a nation.
I have already stated that it is _motion_ in the first instance which superinduces a specific mode of breathing and consequent expression. It is to motion, then, that we must ascribe the first impulse. Such motion may have been active as to defense against enemies, wild beasts, or the elements; or it may have been passive, consisting of the continuous noise produced by the motion of the sea, tempests, or thunder-storms, making a great and lasting impression. Then, again, the influence may have been of a peaceful, balmy, beneficial nature, as with people living in security, in a mild climate and on fertile lands. The stronger the expression of these movements, the stronger the impression they made and the more powerful the expression of the language; the softer and more harmonious their expression, the softer and the more rhythmical the expression of the language. These influences made their first impression by superinducing a mode of breathing in conformity therewith.
Thus sounds giving expression to pain, perhaps, in the first instance, or to sorrow, joy, surprise, etc., were made in conformity with this, their specific mode of breathing. These outcries, consisting of syllables, grew into words and sentences, which, being uttered in conformity and sympathy with their special mode of breathing, created a specific idiomatic expression. The same process, from its first inauguration, and with but slight alterations, has been practised and persisted in by the same people from the beginning to the present time. With the English people, as already mentioned, no migration, no invasion, no conqueror, no matter how powerful, has been able to swerve it from its path. The _most_ these invaders could do was to graft some of the expressions in which _their_ ideas were clad, some words, on to this aboriginal stem. This stem was so strong in its primeval conception that it could bear all these exotic graftings without losing its character, absorbing all, welcoming all beneath the widespread roof and homestead of its branches. It proved its superiority over the idiomatic expression of these foreign tongues by its survival, as the fittest.
[Before proceeding further, I want to remark: these studies having been made from an Anglo-Saxon point of view, it is just possible that a preponderance of observations may have been made on that side; while, if they had been made from a German standpoint, the preponderance most likely would be on that side. This, no doubt, will be the case should I at any future period be able to write all this, as I intend to, in the German language.]
What is this original sap in the English, and what is it in the German language?
The aborigines of the British Isles, living apart from their continental brethren, became possessed of an idiom different and apart from any other. It was the idiom of the _sea_, by which they were surrounded; the motion and commotion of the waves, the surf, the incoming and outgoing tides, their undertow and overflow; the waves advancing toward the shore, their breaking against it, and their final retreat from the same.
The English language is a raft living upon the ocean. You can _hear_ the waters rushing through it and on to the shore and back again. You can feel the waves rising up to gigantic heights, and then falling to and below the level of the sea. You can feel the undertow in its reserve force, quiet and subdued like the lull before the storm, yet capable of almost any demonstration. You can feel all this in the strength and vigor of its diction as expressed in its prose and poetry. This is not a mere poetical conception, but a truth capable of actual, practical demonstration.
While reading poetry or prose, or while singing, fancy seeing in your mind's eye the ocean with its waters in commotion, either the open sea or the surf near the shore, and you will _feel every word you utter mingle with its waves. These pictures will never disturb your fancy, but will associate with it in perfect harmony._ Now substitute for the picture of the ocean and its tumult some rural picture, as of a field of grain or the branches of trees tossed by the wind, or the flow of a river, or even that of the sea itself when perfectly calm. Keep such picture before you exactly as you did that of the sea in commotion. While reading, speaking, or singing English you will not be able to _hold_ such picture; _it will soon disturb you, and to such an extent that you must cease thinking of it, or be obliged to stop your reading, singing, etc._
The impression made by the ocean, in fact, is so great that it dominates the _thought_ and the entire being of English-speaking people. This is the case to such an extent that if you continue to persistently _think_ of any other image than the ocean, even without uttering any sound whatever, it will so greatly perturb you that you will be unable to continue thinking at all. You may, on the other hand, continue to think for an indefinite period of the image of the ocean without experiencing any disturbance whatever.
While the basic element of the English language is closely affiliated with the ocean, that of the _German language_ is affiliated with the _woods, and the blowing of the winds_. In their habitation in the forest, the wind made so deep an impression on the primeval inhabitants of Germany that you can feel its _soughing pervade all German diction_.
If you are a German keep the picture of the woods before you and the soughing of the wind through the tree-tops, and it will harmonize with German thought and diction. Substitute a picture of the ocean for it, or almost any other picture, and you will not be able to vocally utter German thought, nor will you be able to continue thinking in the German language at all.
In place of conjuring up these pictures in your mind's eye you can substitute _real_ pictures representing these scenes, and while contemplating them the effect will be the same.
After pursuing the picture of the ocean for a while, say: "English;" after pursuing that of the woods, say: "Deutsch;" either will come quite naturally, but you cannot reverse them. If you attempt it, these words will not be forthcoming.
While with English diction there is _a pause and then an emphasis_ as of the waves coming on and then breaking against the shore, so, with German diction, there is an _emphasis and then a pause_, as of the blowing of the wind succeeded by a calm. These, in a word, are the characteristic elements in the idiomatic expressions of these peoples; English idiomatic expression being _low succeeded by loud_; German, _loud succeeded by low_.
The influence of the ocean with its continuous uproar formulated the speech and character of the English nation into one of strength and reality, with its centre of gravity in the abdomen. The peaceful influence of their habitation in the woods, together with the impression made by the wind, the singing of birds, etc., formulated the speech and character of the German nation into one more of ideality, with its centre of gravity in the thorax.
The fondness of the English for the sea, their supremacy thereon, etc., need not be amplified upon:
"Wherever billows foam The Briton fights at home, His hearth is built of water."
The fondness of the Germans for the woods is equally noted: Der "dunkle," "zauberische," "geheimnissvolle," "heilige"--Wald (The "darkly deep," "magical," "mysterious," and "sacred" woods) are but common expressions.
There is not a word in the English language of the same significance as that of "Der Wald." It embraces many ideas, of which the words "the woods" and "the forest" are not expressive. These, in a literal translation, find expression in the words "Das Gehoelz" and "Der Forst," which are of a more realistic nature.
The English language, on the other hand, is full of expressions applying to nautical matters and to the sea, for which there are no adequate expressions in the German language.
The fondness of the present Emperor of Germany for the sea must be attributed to the English blood flowing in his veins. While it is his desire to create a powerful navy, the people of Germany are indifferent to, and obstruct rather than assist, the accomplishment of this desire.
Idiomatic expression, the soul of language, has its incipiency in the _soul_ of a people, and may pervade it for centuries before the _body_ of the language, the _words_ in which its thoughts are clad, makes its appearance. It must have taken many centuries more before these words grouped themselves into sentences and assumed the shape of speech. The words may change, but the idiomatic expression will always remain the same.
So, also, must the soul of man have had existence for an indefinite period of time before a body was formulated to clothe it in. The spiritual cell, if I may be permitted to use such an expression, must have existed before the material; or, in other words, the spiritual cell must have made its appearance long before the material cell _commenced_ to make its appearance.
RELATIONSHIP SUPPOSED TO EXIST AS BETWEEN THE GERMAN AND ENGLISH NATIONS
It is a common saying that there is a close relationship existing between the German and English nations. There is no greater fallacy than this. I contend that this relationship is of a very distant order, consisting, as it does, merely in words, or, as I have said, garments loosely flung around the sturdy, strong, and unalterable stem of English idiomatic expression. In every other respect there is a great dissimilarity and antagonism even, existing between these two peoples. If there is any analogy existing between them at all, it is one of opposition; one that is based on the idea that extremes meet (_les extrêmes se touchent_), their poles being diametrically opposed to each other.
There is no more relationship existing between (Anglo-Saxon) German and English than there is between (Norman) French and English; the German, French, and English languages each possessing their own especial and unalterable idiomatic expressions. Whatever foreign words either of them adopt must be subjected to their idiom, or keep floating along as best they may in their original character.
The entire aspect of these three nations, the French, English, and German, points to the fact that there must be a radical difference in their vital mode of existence. Just what this vital mode consists in, in respect to the two latter nations, I expect to still further establish in a future publication. Both languages traverse nearly the entire range of the vital organs in opposite directions. Hence the strength and also the weaknesses of these languages, as compared with other languages which, extending from side to side, have a smaller compass but a comparatively purer range of sounds. Regarding other nations and their languages, I trust others, thoroughly familiar with the same, by applying to their investigations similar principles, will establish similar facts.
Owing to its centrifugal tendency, it is necessary for English vocal utterance to open the mouth much wider than it is for German. Let a German open his mouth no farther for the enunciation of English than he is in the habit of opening it while speaking his own language, and he will not be able to utter a single sound. The same result will obtain when an Anglo-Saxon attempts to speak German on the same basis that he is in the habit of speaking his own language. Owing to the centripetal tendency of the German language, the mouth in speaking German is but slightly extended. That this respective widening and narrowing of, not only the mouth but of every other channel employed in bringing about vocal utterance, must tend to exercise a marked influence on Anglo-Saxon and German features will be obvious. The consequence is that the mouth of English-speaking persons in thus being extended has a broad yet narrow appearance, with rather thin and compressed lips, while the mouth of Germans in thus being contracted is comparatively smaller, with full and ripe lips. This feature is in conformity with all other features which, with Anglo-Saxons, are elongated, with Germans contracted.
Experiments regarding centrifugal and centripetal action can be made to good advantage by resting your head sideways on a pillow. In this position during vocal utterance you can _feel_ these actions, and, feeling them, "_measure_" them. This mode of proceeding can be successfully adopted in many other experiments connected with these studies. I must warn the reader, however, again and again, that all this has reference only to languages spoken idiomatically correct. It has no reference whatever to foreign languages spoken in the usual mechanical manner.
LANGUAGE AND MOTION
I will now show that motion is the first impulse and primary condition of speech. I will give but a few examples at present, but expect to prove most exhaustively later on that motion _must_ precede, or _apparently at least_, accompany vocal sounds _always_.
While standing up, straight, throw out your arms horizontally, then speak English. You will have no difficulty, but you will not be able to speak German so easily. Next, stand as before, and again throw out your arms horizontally, then drop them, letting them hang down close to your body. After doing so you will have no difficulty in speaking German, but you will not be able to speak English so readily. In throwing out your arms in the first instance, your mouth will open, and you will _close_ it in speaking English. In letting them drop, in the second instance, your mouth will close, and you will _open_ it in speaking German. Now, stand on the tips of your toes, and you will have no difficulty in speaking English, but you will not be able to speak German with ease. Then rest the weight of your body on your heels, and you will have no trouble in speaking German, but you cannot speak English with ease. In standing on the toes the body is extended by centrifugal, in standing on the heels it is contracted by centripetal action. Next, extend your neck, and you will have less trouble in speaking English than in speaking German; then lower your neck, and you will find no trouble in speaking German, but you will in speaking English. These experiments might be amplified manifold, but these must suffice for the present.
The same features of the opening and closing of the mouth in conformity with the position you assume, will obtain in all these instances the same as at first mentioned. It will scarcely be necessary for me to repeat that all this shows that the motion for English speech is centrifugal, for German centripetal. Nor will it be necessary to call attention to the fact that all this tends towards giving Germans a condensed and broad, Anglo-Saxons a lengthy and narrow bodily appearance.
It is, however, a noteworthy fact that with Germans the nearer you approach the sea, the more centrifugal becomes their action and personal appearance. The people of Northern Germany, therefore, though radically differing from them in most other respects, partake more of the general bodily features of Anglo-Saxon nations than those of the South of Germany, who are positively opposed to them.
Upon having ascertained the correctness of these statements by actual experiment, I want to ask the reader how he expects to reconcile these facts with the universally adopted theory that the larynx is the sole instrument productive of vocal utterance. An Anglo-Saxon, when stretching out his arms horizontally, can readily speak English, while a German in the same position cannot utter a sound of _his_ language without difficulty. If the larynx in the case of an Anglo-Saxon, under these circumstances, produces vocal utterance, why is it not so easy with a German?
My explanation is this:
By extending your limbs, in stretching out your arms, or standing on your toes, the centrifugal action is instrumental in parting the jaws and giving the tongue an upward tendency. In so doing, the œsophagus and replica obtain ascendancy over the trachea and the larynx. The abdomen (the seat of gravitation for English speech) and its tributaries thus obtain the mastery over the thorax and its tributaries. The former being the main vehicle for English speech, such speech can be produced without molestation. These facts, while favorable to the production of English vocal utterance, obstruct and hinder German vocal utterance.
In lowering the arms or standing on one's heels, thus substituting centripetal for centrifugal action, the jaws close, the tongue assumes a downward tendency. The trachea and the larynx, as well as the thorax (the seat of gravitation for German vocal utterance), obtain the preponderance, and German may be freely spoken, while English is obstructed.