Part 11

In _raising_ the tongue, a free passage to the œsophagus is obtained, while that to the trachea is obstructed. In _lowering_ the tongue, a free passage to the trachea is obtained, while that to the œsophagus becomes obstructed. It is necessary, however, to understand that, while English speech is centrifugal and German centripetal, these are _tendencies_ only and not permanent _conditions_; centrifugal and centripetal action constantly interchanging and modifying one another. An uninterrupted tendency in one and the same direction, either centripetally or centrifugally, would soon come to an end and produce stagnation, inertia, death. There is no action without a counteraction. Hence, ingoing vocal sounds are counterbalanced by outgoing; the same as ingoing thoughts or thoughts produced by external vision are counterbalanced by outgoing, or thoughts produced by internal vision, etc.

In addition to the parts mentioned, there are many other parts of the body which, subjected to centrifugal or centripetal action, will produce results of the same order as those already mentioned. In stretching out your legs (while in a sitting position), you will find speaking German to be difficult; upon drawing them up, you will have trouble with English. The same results may be obtained, in connection with the toes and fingers, in a number of different ways. From all this, it will be readily seen that all parts of the body are closely related to each other, the tendency of the muscles in one prominent part producing the same tendency in all the rest.

There is one thing which must be mentioned, however. To obtain centrifugal action, it is necessary to _stretch_ the part under consideration; the mere extension of a part, without stretching it, will be fruitless of results in either one direction or another; so will the mere contraction of any part be fruitless of results, unless such contraction is complete. You can let your arms hang down alongside of your body and yet speak English easily; and you can hold them out horizontally, and yet speak German easily. In either case the contraction and expansion must be _thorough_ to produce results either centripetally or centrifugally.

_All_ persons make similar motions to those mentioned with every sound they utter, though these motions do not appear on the surface; in fact, they could not speak if they did not make them.

I have already mentioned, but want to repeat, that centrifugal action is the cause of the elongated faces, and especially of the elongation of the lower jaw of English-speaking persons. It is also the cause of their semi-parted lips while in repose, showing their teeth, and a full exhibition thereof while speaking; a fact which has caused much merriment to continental nations, and has given rise to an endless number of caricatures of "milord" and "milady" on their travels, etc. It is also the cause of the perfection of dentistry in this country and in England, where the teeth are always more or less on exhibition. In other countries, where they are hidden behind the curtains of the lips, which are usually closed, except while speaking or laughing, this necessity does not arise to nearly the same extent. To the centrifugal force there is also due much of the innate charm and beauty of English-speaking women.

From all this one great lesson may be learned: no matter by what divergent means nature may work its ends, similar results are obtained, though often arrived at by opposite means and from opposite directions. Thus life ever presents to us new forms and features, and ever infuses new interest into what otherwise might become unbearable in its monotony. A better insight into these facts ought to make us feel more lenient towards what appear to us as other people's "idiosyncrasies." It should also have a tendency to prevent us from attempting to enforce to their full extent laws made in conformity with our own desires and inclinations but in direct opposition to those of others (foreigners living among us), whose character and disposition lead them in diametrically opposite directions.

Unless otherwise mentioned, I wish the reader to remember that I am always speaking not only from the standpoint of an American, but _as_ an American. The fact of my long residence in this country, where I have spent the best part of my life, in itself would not entitle me to do this, having shown, as I have endeavored to do, that this is not sufficient to change a person from one nationality into another. During my earnest endeavor at fathoming these differences, however, I have been led into assuming the forms which distinguish the Anglo-Saxon from the German. Unless I am with Germans and speak the German language, in my thoughts and otherwise I lead the life of an American.

That my English speech, however (though my friends in their indulgence would lead me to believe otherwise), is not as perfect as it might be, is largely due to the fact of my constantly having recourse to the German language, and that I am thus as constantly led back into these other forms of existence which cannot be indulged in without some detriment and abstraction from either the one or the other. There was a time, in fact, when the transformation I have spoken of was taking place (the disturbance being so great) that I could not speak well either the one language or the other.

I am well convinced, on the other hand, that through perseverance _perfection_ in the utterance of both of these languages, for speech as well as for song, and possibly of some other languages besides, may be attained in the course of time; nature being so pliable that, when the required actions are once _fully_ understood and complied with, a perfect change may be made instantly in passing from one language on to another. Such changes, in fact, are naturally made by persons who, in their infancy, have been educated in and taught to speak several languages at one and the same time; the material during infancy being so pliable that it can be readily formed into any shape and transformed into any other. All of the preceding also shows that, for every separate idiom, the _entire_ instrument must be "tuned" for its production in a given order, and that only when so tuned can such idiom be produced in its entire purity. It also shows that, unless so tuned, the vocal cords of the larynx and replica cease to be instrumental in the production of sound.

An instrument tuned for the production of the English language, consequently, cannot produce German sounds, nor can it produce Romanic, Slavonic, or the sounds of any other language. Sounds, _apparently_ the same, of either the singing or speaking voice of various languages are, therefore, _not_ the same and are certainly not produced in the same manner. For a German, consequently, or an Italian to attempt to teach an English-speaking person the art of singing is an anomaly. A foreigner might, with the same show of reason, attempt to teach persons of another nationality the correct pronunciation of their own language. It would be equally false, of course, for an English-speaking person to attempt to teach a German, Italian, etc., the art of singing, unless he had first mastered his pupil's idiomatic expression, or the pupil had mastered that of his teacher.

Many persons are under the erroneous impression that song and speech are performances separate and apart from each other, while they are in reality of precisely the same, though inverse, order. They are of the same order, for instance, as the back and palm of the hand: the former representing speech, the latter song; the external and the internal, or the anterior and the posterior. As the back of the hand, such must and will be its palm; or, as its palm, such must and will be its back.

Conversing with a teacher some time since, she scorned such propositions, saying a person's language had nothing to do with his or her song; the mode of production of the latter being the _same_ with ALL nationalities; besides, she had studied the larynx, and knew all about it. This, of course, settled it, and I had not anything further to say.

DIFFERENCE IN THEIR MODE OF BREATHING AS BETWEEN ANGLO-SAXONS AND GERMANS

Anglo-Saxons inspire first into the thorax and then into the abdomen. Germans inspire first into the abdomen and then into the thorax. The former expire first from the abdomen and then from the thorax; the latter expire first from the abdomen and then from the thorax. This, however, gives but a partial account of the process of breathing, and I must postpone a more explicit one to a later period.

To prove the correctness of the above assertion, press your hand against the left side of your thorax anteriorly, and you will find it difficult to inhale. If you press your hand against the right side of your thorax, on the other hand, you will have no difficulty in inhaling. Next, press your hand against the right side of your abdomen, and you will not be able to exhale; but if you press your hand against its left side, you will experience no trouble in exhaling. In pressing your hands one against the left side of the breast and the other against the right side of the abdomen, you will have trouble in breathing.

Pressures produced in the precisely _opposite_ manner in every respect, on the part of a German-speaking person, will produce effects of precisely the _same_ nature. A German, in pressing the right side of his abdomen, will not be able to inspire freely, but pressing its left side will not hinder him from doing so. Pressing the left side of his thorax will impede his expiration, while the pressing of its right side will not prevent him from doing so. These results will become more obvious when these pressures are continued for some time. All the pressures mentioned are to be applied _anteriorly_. Pressures of the same nature applied _posteriorly_ produce opposite results with Anglo-Saxons as well as Germans.

Similar results may be obtained by producing pressures on the median line of either thorax or abdomen, front as well as back. Such will also be the case when pressures are produced on either side from the armpits downward or from the hips upward. More satisfactory results, however, than those obtained through mechanical pressure can be obtained by making the respective parts rigid. It will scarcely be necessary for me to mention all these various causes and consequent results in detail, as any one interested in these matters can work them out for himself from that which I have said.

RISE AND FALL, OR RHYTHM

The thorax is productive of the falling, the abdomen of the rising voice, the former being the representative of the _impression_ for sounds, the latter of their expression.

_An Anglo-Saxon's voice, inspiring, as he does, into the thorax, and expiring from the abdomen, will first fall and then rise. A German's voice, on the contrary, inspiring, as he does, into the abdomen, and expiring from the thorax, will first rise and then fall._

This is the fundamental cause of the difference between the idiomatic expression of these two peoples, and primarily also of the difference existing between their national traits physically as well as mentally.

Every original word in either of these languages will illustrate these facts:

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` Vater, Mutter, Bruder, Schwester.

Take the same words in English, and the accent will be reversed:

` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ Father, Mother, Brother, Sister

When these and similar words were adopted into the English language, it was done at the expense of their original idiomatic expression. I am speaking of the music, the rise and fall, the rhythm pervading a language, not of time or measure, nor of the intonation, nor of emphasis.

I make four distinctions, and expect to prove that they are the basis of every artistic expression of either speech or song. First, measure or time. Second, the rise and fall of the voice, equal to its rhythm. Third, intonation, which pertains to words in accordance with their meaning. Fourth, emphasis, which has reference to the feelings.

That the human voice is capable of at one and the same time expressing four moods so different from each other, shows that there are various factors (all of a different nature) simultaneously at work producing these different results. To correctly indicate these four characteristics, it would be necessary to mark each syllable in a fourfold manner. I shall confine myself to the rhythm and the metre, and shall mark the former above the line by using the signs for accent (´`), and the latter below the line by using those for metre (¯˘).

Right here is the main stumbling-block with persons of either nationality in speaking the language of the other. They will in so doing invariably retain the idiomatic expression of their own vernacular.

The _proper_ way to illustrate the rhythm would be as follows:

´`´` ´` ´` ´` Vater, Mutter, gut.

`´ `´ `´ `´ `´ Father, Mother, good.

There is always a rise of the voice before its fall in German, and a fall before its rise in English _for each and every syllable_. When a language is well spoken, this complete intonation is always heard. If this needs illustration, which it should not, being so obvious, the poetry of both peoples offers proofs in great abundance. It is a notable fact that, with German verse, the voice for the end syllable always sinks, with English it rises; the former is generally short, the latter long; but even where the word ends with a long syllable in German the voice falls at the end, and where one ends with a short syllable in English the voice rises at the end.

To anxiously count every syllable in poetry is contrary to the spirit of a language. There are slight touches here and there which simply serve as connecting links, and which, in marking the rhythmic flow of sounds, should not be included as belonging to the metre. Most of these are prefixes or affixes, pauses for repose or relaxation, consisting in scarcely noticeable inspirations or expirations, which are necessary to strengthen the voice for the actual metre. The various intonations are generally expressed by the use of the signs for long and short only. As the latter, properly speaking, only represent time or measure, the voice is left to express as best it may and without any guidance whatsoever every other factor composing a language. All I want to do now is to show by the signs for the accent the difference between the English and German rhythmic movement:

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` Auf der duftverlornen Grenze ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` Jener Berge tanzen hold ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` Abendwolken ihre Taenze ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` Leicht geschuerzt im Strahlengold. ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

LENAU.

´ ` ´` ´` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` Auf ihrem Grab da steht eine Linde ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´` ´ ` ´ ` Drin pfeifen die Voegel im Abendwinde; ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´` ´` ´ ` ´` ´ ` Die Winde die wehen so lind und so schaurig, ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´` ´ ` ´ ` ´` ´ ` Die Voegel die singen so suess und so traurig. ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘

HEINE.

The beginning of every line in this verse might remain unmarked as not belonging to the rhythmic expression proper, and being expressive mainly of an inspiration preceding the expiration which it foreshadows. The beauty of Heine's verse is largely due to the fact that he does not anxiously count time, but lets his voice rise and fall where it is most effective. It will be noticed that there is a greater movement, as expressed by the signs of the rhythm, in Heine's verse than there is in Lenau's, hence the inexpressible charm of his diction. Here is another great poet, or poetess rather, the greatest Germany has produced, also fearless of prescribed forms, but full of charm and power:

´ ` ´` ´ ` ´` ´` ´` O schaurig ists uebers Moor zu gehn, ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

´ ` ´` ´ ` ´ ` Wenn es wimmelt vom Haiderauche, ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘

´` ´` ´` ´` ´ ` ´ ` Sich wie Phantome die Duenste drehn ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

´ ` ´ ` ´` ´ ` Und die Ranke haekelt am Strauche. ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘

DROSTE-HUELSHOFF.

In these last two citations, the dactylus (¯ ˘ ˘) is the prevailing measure, which but strengthens my assertion that in German diction there is a fall after a rise; the former being here more distinctly expressed than in the simple trochaic measure. The fall, the relaxation, being greater, the rise, the vigor in the expression, thereby gains additional strength. What is the consequence of this falling off or gliding down in German diction so well expressed in Lenau's

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` "Auf der duftverlornen Grenze"?

It is not a positive line of demarcation, but one which is lost, as it were, "in the soft ether of the evening sky."

Hence the high tide succeeded by the low, the aspiration followed by resignation, the night after the day, death after life, repose after the strife--all this expresses the genius of the German language; and is also expressive of German life and character--its dreaminess, its longing, its desire for the ideal, never to be attained; the abstract, the abstruse; its yearning, its altruism, its transcendentalism, its _Weltschmerz_ (the sadness pervading all nature). It is also expressive of its _Begeisterung_ (an enthusiasm which upon the slightest provocation takes a man almost off his feet). All these are traits of the German national character.

There is no spiritual bond among all these millions that could possibly produce such sentiments and feelings as its result, differing, as they do, from the feelings of any other nation or people, but that of a language common to all.

To prove that the trochaic measure is the one ordained by nature for German expression, it is but necessary to glance at the characteristic words of the preceding verses:

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` Wimmelt, Haide, gehen, wehen, drehen, Ranke, haekelt,

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` Grenze, jener, Berge, Abend, Wolken, Taenze,

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` strahlen, ihren, eine, Linde, pfeifen, Voegel, Winde,

´ ` ´ ` ´ ` schaurig, singen, traurig.

The same rhythm, though not so obviously expressed, obtains with the words of one syllable:

´` ´` ´` ´` ´ ` ´` ´` Auf, der, Duft, hold, leicht, im, Gold,

´` ´ ` ´` ´ ` ´ ` ´` Grab, steht, lind, suess, ueber's, Moor.

Now compare with this the strength and vigor of English diction, which runs in the precisely opposite direction:

` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ The stag at eve had drunk his fill, ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ Where danced the moon on Monan's rill; ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

`´ `´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ And deep his midnight lair had made, ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

` ´ ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ´ In lone Glenartney's hazel shade. ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

SCOTT.

` ´ ` ´ ` ´ `´ `´ The day is done, and the darkness ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘

`´ ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ` ´ Falls from the wings of night, ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

`´ ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ´ As a feather is wafted downward ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘

`´ ` `´ ` ´ ` ´ From an eagle in his flight. ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯

LONGFELLOW.

` ` ´ ` `´ `´ `´ ` `´ Oh east is east, and west is west, ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

` ´ ` ` ´ ` ´ And never the two shall meet, ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

` ´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ Till earth and sky stand presently, ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

` `´ ` ´ ` ´ ` ´ At God's great judgment seat. ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ` ´ ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ´ But there is neither east nor west, ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

`´ ` ` ´ ` ´ Border, nor breed, nor birth, ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

` ´ `´ `´ ` ´ ` ´ When two strong men stand face to face, ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯

` ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ` ´ Though they come from the ends of the earth. ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ˘ ¯

KIPLING.

It is either the iambic (˘¯) or the anapest (˘˘¯). Of course, these vary to some extent in conformity with the reader's intonation, but the spirit of the language is always from weakness to strength, in place of from strength to weakness, as with the German. It is always the waves approaching the shore and then _breaking_ against it, as against the wind _coming up suddenly_ and then dying away. This is the reason why a serenade or lullaby in English can never be rendered with the same effect as in German, the English voice rising at the end instead of falling.

Wherever a verse commences with a stress, it must be considered that a fall of the voice or an inspiration has preceded it; this, though unaccompanied by sound, being really the case. I have thus marked the beginning of Longfellow's beautiful lines:

` ´ `´ ` ´ Falls----as----from.

Mr. Lunn, in his _Philosophy of Voice_, has the following:

"How many Englishmen _dare_ utter loudly a word beginning with a vowel? If attempted, either it would not be done, or, in spite of the speaker, owing to the weakness of the muscles which draw the cords together [_sic_], an aspirate would precede the vowel."

This is right, as far as his observation is concerned, but he does not seem to know that this very weakness he complains of is really the strength of the English language, the lull before the storm, the concentration before the explosion; and that "thus the idiosyncrasy of our people's speech" is _not_ "deadness, weakness, and general feebleness," but, on the contrary, a strength and a virility not surpassed by any other tongue. This finds illustration in Kipling's

`´ `´ `´ `´ Oh east is east, etc.

It is but necessary to comprehend the laws which underlie this apparent weakness to turn it to its best account, and to obtain from it the highest results, both for speech and song. As for the "weakness of the muscles which draw the cords together," it will scarcely be necessary for me to make a specific refutation; the premises upon which such assumption is founded being quite untenable, there being quite as much vigor in the _muscles_ and _cords_ of an Anglo-Saxon as in those of any other nation. Nor, I suppose, will it be necessary to strengthen my assertions by once more quoting the separate words and thus pointing out the iambic, the rise after the fall (˘¯), or the anapest (˘˘¯), the twofold repose and gathering of strength for the final emphasis.

The English language in its Saxon words mainly consists of monosyllables. These, however, as stated, must be looked upon as words of two syllables, a suppressed intonation always preceding their vowel sounds. The majority of such words, as a matter of fact, originally consisted of two syllables, of which the last was dropped when they were adopted by the English. This last syllable, representing the fall of the voice thus disappearing, left the first, which represented its rise, standing unsupported by itself. As the rise of the voice, however, cannot be expressed without the accompaniment of its fall, the latter always _tacitly_ accompanies the same, and is expressed in an undertone, _preceding_ the rise.