CHAPTER XX

SOUND SYMBOLISM

§ 1. Sound and Sense. § 2. Instinctive Feeling. § 3. Direct Imitation. § 4. Originator of the Sound. § 5. Movement. § 6. Things and Appearances. § 7. States of Mind. § 8. Size and Distance. § 9. Length and Strength of Words and Sounds. § 10. General Considerations. § 11. Importance of Suggestiveness. § 12. Ancient and Modern Times.

XX.--§ 1. Sound and Sense.

The idea that there is a natural correspondence between sound and sense, and that words acquire their contents and value through a certain sound symbolism, has at all times been a favourite one with linguistic dilettanti, the best-known examples being found in Plato’s _Kratylos_. Greek and Latin grammarians indulge in the wildest hypotheses to explain the natural origin of such and such a word, as when Nigidius Figulus said that in pronouncing _vos_ one puts forward one’s lips and sends out breath in the direction of the other person, while this is not the case with _nos_. With these early writers, to make guesses at sound symbolism was the only way to etymologize; no wonder, therefore, that we with our historical methods and our wider range of knowledge find most of their explanations ridiculous and absurd. But this does not justify us in rejecting any idea of sound symbolism: abusus non tollit usum!

Humboldt (Versch 79) says that “language chooses to designate objects by sounds which partly in themselves, partly in comparison with others, produce on the ear an impression resembling the effect of the object on the mind; thus _stehen_, _stätig_, _starr_, the impression of firmness, Sanskrit _lī_ ‘to melt, diverge,’ that of liquidity or solution (des zerfliessenden).... In this way objects that produce similar impressions are denoted by words with essentially the same sounds, thus _wehen_, _wind_, _wolke_, _wirren_, _wunsch_, in all of which the vacillating, wavering motion with its confused impression on the senses is expressed through ... _w_.” Madvig’s objection (1842, 13 = Kl 64) that we need only compare four of the words Humboldt quotes with the corresponding words in the very nearest sister-language, Danish _blæse_, _vind_, _sky_, _ønske_, to see how wrong this is, seems to me a little cheap: Humboldt himself expressly assumes that much of primitive sound symbolism may have disappeared in course of time and warns us against making this kind of explanation a ‘constitutive principle,’ which would lead to great dangers (“so setzt man sich grossen gefahren aus und verfolgt einen in jeder rücksicht schlüpfrigen pfad”). Moreover _blæse_ (E. _blow_, Lat. _flare_) is just as imitative as _wind_, _vind_: no one of course would pretend that there was only one way of expressing the same sense perception. Among Humboldt’s examples _wolke_ and _wunsch_ are doubtful, but I do not see that this affects the general truth of his contention that there is something like sound symbolism in _some_ words.

Nyrop in his treatment of this question (Gr IV § 545 f.) repeats Madvig’s objection that the same name can denote various objects, that the same object can be called by different names, and that the significations of words are constantly changing; further, that the same group of sounds comes to mean different things according to the language in which it occurs. He finally exclaims: “How to explain [by means of sound symbolism] the difference in signification between _murus_, _nurus_, _durus_, _purus_, etc.?”

XX.--§ 2. Instinctive Feeling.

Yes, of course it would be absurd to maintain that all words at all times in all languages had a signification corresponding exactly to their sounds, each sound having a definite meaning once for all. But is there really much more logic in the opposite extreme, which denies any kind of sound symbolism[100] (apart from the small class of evident echoisms or ‘onomatopœia’) and sees in our words only a collection of wholly accidental and irrational associations of sound and meaning? It seems to me that the conclusion in this case is as false as if you were to infer that because on one occasion X told a lie, he therefore never tells the truth. The correct conclusion would be: as he has told a lie once, we cannot always trust him; we must be on our guard with him--but sometimes he may tell the truth. Thus, also, sounds may in some cases be symbolic of their sense, even if they are not so in all words. If linguistic historians are averse to admitting sound symbolism, this is a natural consequence of their being chiefly occupied with words which have undergone regular changes in sound and sense; and most of the words which form the staple of linguistic books are outside the domain of sound symbolism.

There is no denying, however, that there are words which we feel instinctively to be adequate to express the ideas they stand for, and others the sounds of which are felt to be more or less incongruous with their signification. Future linguists will have to find out in detail what domains of human thought admit, and what domains do not admit, of congruous expression through speech sounds, and further what sounds are suitable to express such and such a notion, for though it is clear--to take only a few examples--that there is little to choose between _apple_ and _pomme_, or between _window_ and _fenster_, as there is no sound or sound group that has any natural affinity with such thoroughly concrete and composite ideas as those expressed by these words, yet on the other hand everybody must feel that the word _roll_, _rouler_, _rulle_, _rollen_ is more adequate than the corresponding Russian word _katat’_, _katit’_.

It would be an interesting task to examine in detail and systematically what ideas lend themselves to symbolic presentation and what sounds are chosen for them in different languages. That, however, could only be done on the basis of many more examples than I can find space for in this work, and I shall, therefore, only attempt to give a preliminary enumeration of the most obvious classes, with a small fraction of the examples I have collected.[101]

XX.--§ 3. Direct Imitation.

The simplest case is the direct imitation of the sound, thus _clink_, _clank_, _ting_, _tinkle_ of various metallic sounds, _splash_, _bubble_, _sizz_, _sizzle_ of sounds produced by water, _bow-wow_, _bleat_, _roar_ of sounds produced by animals, and _snort_, _sneeze_, _snigger_, _smack_, _whisper_, _grunt_, _grumble_ of sounds produced by human beings. Examples might easily be multiplied of such ‘echoisms’ or ‘onomatopœia’ proper. But, as our speech-organs are not capable of giving a perfect imitation of all ‘unarticulated’ sounds, the choice of speech-sounds is to a certain extent accidental, and different nations have chosen different combinations, more or less conventionalized, for the same sounds; thus _cock-a-doodle-doo_, Dan. _kykeliky_, Sw. _kukeliku_, G. _kikeriki_, Fr. _coquelico_, for the sound of a cock; and for _whisper_: Dan. _hviske_, ON. _kvisa_, G. _flüstern_, Fr. _chuchoter_, Sp. _susurar_. The continuity of a sound is frequently indicated by _l_ or _r_ after a stopped consonant: _rattle_, _rumble_, _jingle_, _clatter_, _chatter_, _jabber_, etc.

XX.--§ 4. Originator of the Sound.

Next, the echoic word designates the being that produces the sound, thus the birds _cuckoo_ and _peeweet_ (Dan. _vibe_, G. _kibitz_, Fr. pop. _dix-huit_).

A special subdivision of particular interest comprises those names, or nicknames, which are sometimes popularly given to nations from words continually occurring in their speech. Thus the French used to call an Englishman a _god-damn_ (_godon_), and in China an English soldier is called _a-says_ or _I-says_. In Java a Frenchman is called _orang-deedong_ (_orang_ ‘man’), in America _ding-dong_, and during the Napoleonic wars the French were called in Spain _didones_, from _dis-donc_; another name for the same nation is _wi-wi_ (Australia), _man-a-wiwi_ (in Beach-la-mar), or _oui-men_ (New Caledonia). In Eleonore Christine’s _Jammersminde_ 83 I read, “Ich habe zwei _parle mi franço_ gefangen,” and correspondingly Goldsmith writes (Globe ed. 624): “Damn the French, the _parle vous_, and all that belongs to them. What makes the bread rising? the _parle vous_ that devour us.” In Rovigno the surrounding Slavs are called _čuje_ from their exclamation _čuje_ ‘listen, I say,’ and in Hungary German visitors are called _vigéc_ (from _wie geht’s?_), and customs officers _vartapiszli_ (from _wart’ a bissl_). Round Panama everything native is called _spiggoty_, because in the early days the Panamanians, when addressed, used to reply, “No spiggoty [speak] Inglis.” In Yokohama an English or American sailor is called _Damuraïsu H’to_ from ‘Damn your eyes’ and Japanese H’to ‘people.’[102]

XX.--§ 5. Movement.

Thirdly, as sound is always produced by some movement and is nothing but the impression which that movement makes on the ear, it is quite natural that the movement itself may be expressed by the word for its sound: the two are, in fact, inseparable. Note, for instance, such verbs as _bubble_, _splash_, _clash_, _crack_, _peck_. Human actions may therefore be denoted by such words as to _bang_ the door, or (with slighter sounds) to _tap_ or _rap_ at a door. Hence also the substantives a _tap_ or a _rap_ for the action, but the substantive may also come to stand for the implement, as when from the verb to _hack_, ‘to cut, chop off, break up hard earth,’ we have the noun _hack_, ‘a mattock or large pick.’

Then we have words expressive of such movements as are not to the same extent characterized by loud sounds; thus a great many words beginning with _l_-combinations, _fl-_: _flow_, _flag_ (Dan. _flagre_), _flake_, _flutter_, _flicker_, _fling_, _flit_, _flurry_, _flirt_; _sl-_: _slide_, _slip_, _slive_; _gl-_: _glide_. Hence adjectives like _fleet_, _slippery_, _glib_. Sound and sight may have been originally combined in such expressions for an uncertain walk as _totter_, _dodder_, dialectical _teeter_, _titter_, _dither_, but in cases of this kind the audible element may be wanting, and the word may come to be felt as symbolic of the movement as such. This is also the case with many expressions for the sudden, rapid movement by which we take hold of something; as a short vowel, suddenly interrupted by a stopped consonant, serves to express the sound produced by a very rapid striking movement (_pat_, _tap_, _knock_, etc.), similar sound combinations occur frequently for the more or less noiseless seizing of a thing (with the teeth or with the hand): _snap_, _snack_, _snatch_, _catch_, Fr. _happer_, _attraper_, _gripper_, E. _grip_, Dan. _hapse_, _nappe_, Lat. _capio_, Gr. _kaptō_, Armenian _kap_ ‘I seize,’ Turk _kapmak_ (_mak_ infin. ending), etc. (I shall only mention one derivative meaning that may develop from this group: E. _snack_ ‘a hurried meal,’ in Swift’s time called a _snap_ (_Journ. to Stella_ 270); cf. G. _schnapps_, Dan. _snaps_ ‘glass of spirits.’) E. _chase_ and _catch_ are both derived from two dialectically different French forms, ultimately going back to the same late Latin verb _captiare_, but it is no mere accident that it was the form ‘catch’ that acquired the meaning ‘to seize,’ not found in French, for it naturally associated itself with _snatch_, and especially with the now obsolete verb _latch_ ‘to seize.’

There is also a natural connexion between action and sound in the word to _tickle_, G. _kitzeln_, ON. _kitla_, Dan. _kilde_ (_d_ mute), Nubian _killi-killi_, and similar forms (Schuchardt, _Nubisch. u. Bask._ 9), Lat. _titillare_; cp. also the word for the kind of laughter thus produced: _titter_, G. _kichern_.

XX.--§ 6. Things and Appearances.

Further, we have the extension of symbolical designation to things; here, too, there is some more or less obvious association of what is only visible with some sound or sounds. This has been specially studied by Hilmer, to whose book (Sch) the reader is referred for numerous examples, e.g. p. 237 ff., _knap_ ‘a thick stick, a knot of wood, a bit of food, a protuberance, a small hill;’ _knop_ ‘a boss, stud, button, knob, a wart, pimple, the bud of a flower, a promontory,’ with the variants _knob_, _knup_.... Hilmer’s word-lists from German and English comprise 170 pages!

There is also a natural association between high tones (sounds with very rapid vibrations) and light, and inversely between low tones and darkness, as is seen in the frequent use of adjectives like ‘light’ and ‘dark’ in speaking of notes. Hence the vowel [i] is felt to be more appropriate for light, and [u] for dark, as seen most clearly in the contrast between _gleam_, _glimmer_, _glitter_ on the one hand and _gloom_ on the other (Zangwill somewhere writes: “The gloom of night, relieved only by the gleam from the street-lamp”); the word _light_ itself, which has now a diphthong which is not so adequate to the meaning, used to have the vowel [i] like G. _licht_; for the opposite notions we have such words as G. _dunkel_, Dan. _mulm_, Gr. _amolgós_, _skótos_, Lat. _obscurus_, and with another ‘dark’ vowel E. _murky_, Dan. _mörk_.

XX.--§ 7. States of Mind.

From this it is no far cry to words for corresponding states of mind: to some extent the very same words are used, as _gloom_ (Dowden writes: “The good news was needed to cast a gleam on the gloom that encompassed Shelley”); hence also _glum_, _glumpy_, _glumpish_, _grumpy_, _the dumps_, _sulky_. If E. _moody_ and _sullen_ have changed their significations (OE. _modig_ ‘high-spirited,’ ME. _solein_ ‘solitary’), sound symbolism, if I am not mistaken, counts for something in the change; the adjectives now mean exactly the same as Dan. _mut_, _but_.

If _grumble_ comes to mean the expression of a mental state of dissatisfaction, the connexion between the sound of the word and its sense is even more direct, for the verb is imitative of the sound produced in such moods, cf. _mumble_ and _grunt_, _gruntle_. The name of Mrs. _Grundy_ is not badly chosen as a representative of narrow-minded conventional morality.

A long list might be given of symbolic expressions for dislike, disgust, or scorn; here a few hints only can find place. First we have the same dull or dump (back) vowels as in the last paragraph: _blunder_, _bungle_, _bung_, _clumsy_, _humdrum_, _humbug_, _strum_, _slum_, _slush_, _slubber_, _sloven_, _muck_, _mud_, _muddle_, _mug_ (various words, but all full of contempt), _juggins_ (a silly person), _numskull_ (old _numps_, _nup_, _nupson_), _dunderhead_, _gull_, _scug_ (at Eton a dirty or untidy boy).... Many words begin with _sl-_ (we have already seen some): _slight_, _slim_, _slack_, _sly_, _sloppy_, _slipslop_, _slubby_, _slattern_, _slut_, _slosh_.... Initial labials are also frequent.[103] After the vowel we have very often the sound [ʃ] or [tʃ], as in _trash_, _tosh_, _slosh_, _botch_, _patch_; cf. also G. _kitsch_ (bad picture, smearing), _patsch(e)_ (mire, anything worthless), _quatsch_ (silly nonsense), _putsch_ (riot, political _coup de main_). E. _bosh_ (nonsense) is said to be a Turkish loan-word; it has become popular for the same reason for which the French nickname _boche_ for a German was widely used during the World War. Let me finally mention the It. derivative suffix _-accio_, as in _poveraccio_ (miserable), _acquaccia_ (bad water), and _-uccio_, as in _cavalluccio_ (vile horse).

XX.--§ 8. Size and Distance.

The vowel [i], especially in its narrow or thin variety, is particularly appropriate to express what is small, weak, insignificant, or, on the other hand, refined or dainty. It is found in a great many adjectives in various languages, e.g. _little_, _petit_, _piccolo_, _piccino_, Magy. _kis_, E. _wee_, _tiny_ (by children often pronounced _teeny_ [_ti·ni_]), _slim_, Lat. _minor_, _minimus_, Gr. _mikros_; further, in numerous words for small children or small animals (the latter frequently used as endearing or depreciative words for children), e.g. _child_ (formerly with [i·] sound), G. _kind_, Dan. _pilt_, E. _kid_, _chit_, _imp_, _slip_, _pigmy_, _midge_, Sp. _chico_, or for small things: _bit_, _chip_, _whit_, Lat. _quisquiliæ_, _mica_, E. _tip_, _pin_, _chink_, _slit_.... The same vowel is found in diminutive suffixes in a variety of languages, as E. _-y_, _-ie_ (_Bobby_, _baby_, _auntie_, _birdie_), Du. _-ie_, _-je_ (_koppie_ ‘little hill’), Gr. _-i-_ (_paid-i-on_ ‘little boy’), Goth. _-ein_, pronounced [i·n] (_gumein_ ‘little man’), E. _-kin_, _-ling_, Swiss German _-li_, It. _-ino_, Sp. _-ico_, _-ito_, _-illo_....

As smallness and weakness are often taken to be characteristic of the female sex, I suspect that the Aryan feminine suffix _-i_, as in Skr. _vṛkī_ ‘she-wolf,’ _naptī_ ‘niece,’ originally denotes smallness (‘wolfy’), and in the same way we find the vowel _i_ in many feminine suffixes; thus late Lat. _-itta_ (_Julitta_, etc., whence Fr. _-ette_, _Henriette_, etc.), _-ina_ (_Carolina_), further G. _-in_ (_königin_), Gr. _-issa_ (_basilissa_ ‘queen’), whence Fr. _-esse_, E. _-ess_.

The same vowel [i] is also symbolical of a very short time, as in the phrases _in a jiff_, _jiffy_, Sc. _in a clink_, Dan. _i en svip_; and correspondingly we have adjectives like _quick_, _swift_, _vivid_ and others. No wonder, then, that the Germans feel their word for ‘lightning,’ _blitz_, singularly appropriate to the effect of light and to the shortness of duration.[104]

It has often been remarked[105] that in corresponding pronouns and adverbs the vowel _i_ frequently indicates what is nearer, and other vowels, especially _a_ or _u_, what is farther off; thus Fr. _ci_, _là_, E. _here_, _there_, G. _dies_, _das_, Low G. _dit_, _dat_, Magy. _ez_, _emez_ ‘this,’ _az_, _amaz_ ‘that,’ _itt_ ‘here,’ _ott_ ‘there,’ Malay _iki_ ‘this,’ _ika_ ‘that, a little removed,’ _iku_ ‘yon, farther away.’ In Hamitic languages _i_ symbolizes the near and _u_ what is far away. We may here also think of the word _zigzag_ as denoting movement in alternate turns here and there; and if in the two E. pronouns _this_ and _that_ the old neuter forms have prevailed (OE. m. _þes_, _se_, f. _þeos_, _seo_, n. _þis_, _þæt_) the reason (or one of the reasons) may have been that a characteristic difference of vowels in the two contrasted pronouns was thus secured.

XX.--§ 9. Length and Strength of Words and Sounds.

Shorter and more abrupt forms are more appropriate to certain states of mind, longer ones to others. An imperative may be used both for command and for a more or less humble appeal or entreaty; in Magyar dialects there are short forms for command: _írj_, _dolgozz_; long for entreaty: _írjál_, _dolgozzál_ (Simonyi US 359, 214). Were Lat. _dic_, _duc_, _fac_, _fer_ used more than other imperatives in commands? The fact that they alone lost _-e_ might indicate that this was so. On the other hand the imperatives _es_, _este_ and _i_ had to yield to the fuller (and more polite) _esto_, _estote_, _vade_, and _scito_ is always said instead of _sci_ (Wackernagel, _Gött. Ges. d. Wiss._, 1906, 182, on the avoidance of too short forms in general). Other languages, which have only one form for the imperative, soften the commanding tone by adding some word like _please_, _bitte_.

An emotional effect is obtained in some cases by lengthening a word by some derivative syllables, in themselves unmeaning; thus in Danish words for ‘lengthy’ or ‘tiresome’: _langsommelig_, _kedsommelig_, _evindelig_ for _lang(som)_, _kedelig_, _evig_. (Cf. Ibsen, _Når vi døde vågner_ 98: Du er kanske ble’t ked af dette evige samliv med mig.--Evige? Sig lige så godt: evindelige.) In the same way the effect of _splendid_ is strengthened in slang: _splendiferous_, _splendidous_, _splendidious_, _splendacious_. A long word like _aggravate_ is felt to be more intense than _vex_ (Coleman)--and that may be the reason why the long word acquires a meaning that is strange to its etymology. And “to disburden one’s self of a sense of contempt, a robust full-bodied detonation, like, for instance, _platitudinous_, is, unquestionably, very much more serviceable than any evanescing squib of one or two syllables” (Fitzedward Hall). Cf. also _multitudinous_, _multifarious_.

We see now the emotional value of some ‘mouth-filling’ words, some of which may be considered symbolical expansions of existing words (what H. Schröder terms ‘streckformen’), though others cannot be thus explained; not unfrequently the effect of length is combined with some of the phonetic effects mentioned above. Such words are, e.g., _slubberdegullion_ ‘dirty fellow,’ _rumbustious_ ‘boisterous,’ _rumgumption_, _rumfustian_, _rumbullion_ (cf. _rumpuncheon_ ‘cask of rum’ as a term of abuse in Stevenson, _Treas. Isl._ 48, “the cowardly son of a rum-puncheon”), _rampallion_ ‘villain,’ _rapscallion_, _ragamuffin_; _sculduddery_ ‘obscenity’; _cantankerous_ ‘quarrelsome,’ U.S. also _rantankerous_ (cf. _cankerous_, _rancorous_); _skilligalee_ ‘miserable gruel,’ _flabbergast_ ‘confound,’ _catawampous_ (or _-ptious_) ‘fierce’ (“a high-sounding word with no very definite meaning,” NED); Fr. _hurluberlu_ ‘crazy’ and the synonymous Dan. _tummelumsk_, Norw. _tullerusk_.

In this connexion one may mention the natural tendency to lengthen and to strengthen single sounds under the influence of strong feeling and in order to intensify the effect of the spoken word; thus, in ‘it’s very cold’ both the diphthong [ou] and the [l] may be pronounced extremely long, in ‘terribly dull’ the [l] is lengthened, in ‘extremely long’ either the vowel [ɔ] or the [ŋ] (or both) may be lengthened. In Fr. ‘c’était horrible’ the trill of the [r] becomes very long and intense (while the same effect is not generally possible in the corresponding English word, because the English [r] is not trilled, but pronounced by one flap of the tip). In some cases a lengthening due to such a psychological cause may permanently alter a word, as when Lat. _totus_ in It. has become _tutto_ (Fr. _tout_, _toute_ goes back to the same form, while Sp. _todo_ has preserved the form corresponding to the Lat. single consonant). An interesting collection of such cases from the Romanic tongues has been published by A. J. Carnoy (_Mod. Philol._ 15. 31, July 1917), who justly emphasizes the symbolic value of the change and the special character of the words in which it occurs (pet-names, children’s words, ironic or derisive words, imitative words ...). He says: “While to a phonetician the phenomenon would seem capricious, its apportionment in the vocabulary is quite natural to a psychologist. In fact, reduplication, be it of syllables or of consonants, generally has that character in languages. One finds it in perfective tenses, in intensive or frequentative verbs, in the plural, and in collectives. In most cases it is a reduplication of syllables, but a lengthening of vowels is not rare and the reinforcement of consonants is also found. In Chinook, for instance, the emotional words, both diminutive and augmentative, are expressed by increasing the stress of consonants. It is, of course, also well known that in Semitic the intensive radical of verbs is regularly formed by a reduplication of consonants. To a stem _qatal_, e.g., answers an intensive: Eth. _qattala_, Hebr. _qittel_. Cf. Hebr. _shibbar_ ‘to cut in small pieces’ [cf. below], _hillech_ ‘to walk,’ _qibber_ ‘to bury many,’ etc. Cf. Brockelmann, _Vergl. Gramm._, p. 244.”

I add a few more examples from Misteli (428 f.) of this Semitic strengthening: the first vowel is lengthened to express a tendency or an attempt: _qatala jaqtulu_ ‘kill’ (in the third person masc., the former in the prefect-aorist, the latter in the imperfect-durative, where _ja_, _ju_ is the sign of the third person m.), _qātala juqātilu_ ‘try to kill, fight’; _faXara jufXaru_ ‘excel in fame,’ _fāXara jufāXiru_ ‘try to excel, vie.’ Through lengthening (doubling) of a consonant an intensification of the action is denoted: Hebr. _šāβar jišbōr_ ‘zerbrechen,’ _šibbēr jẹšabbēr_ ‘zerschmettern,’ Arab. _ḍaraba jaḍrubu_ ‘strike,’ _ḍarraba juḍarribu_ ‘beat violently, or repeatedly’; sometimes the change makes a verb into a causative or transitive, etc.

I imagine that we have exactly the same kind of strengthening for psychological (symbolical) reasons in a number of verbs where Danish has _pp_, _tt_, _kk_ by the side of _b_, _d_, _g_ (spirantic): _pippe_ _pibe_, _stritte_ _stride_, _snitte_ _snide_, _skøtte_ _skøde_, _splitte_ _splide_, _skrikke_ _skrige_, _lukke_ _luge_, _hikke_ _hige_, _sikke_ _sige_, _kikke_ _kige_, _prikke_ _prige_ (cf. also _sprække_ _sprænge_). Some of these forms are obsolete, others dialectal, but it would take us too far in this place to deal with the words in detail. It is customary to ascribe this gemination to an old _n_ derivative (see, e.g., Brugmann VG 1. 390, Streitberg Urg pp. 135, 138, Noreen UL 154), but it does not seem necessary to conjure up an _n_ from the dead to make it disappear again immediately, as the mere strengthening of the consonant itself to express symbolically the strengthening of the action has nothing unnatural in it. Cf. also G. _placken_ by the side of _plagen_. The opposite change, a weakening, may have taken place in E. _flag_ (cf. OFr. _flaquir_, to become flaccid), _flabby_, earlier _flappy_, _drib_ from _drip_, _slab_, if from OFr. _esclape_, _clod_ by the side of _clot_, and possibly _cadge_, _bodge_, _grudge_, _smudge_, which had all of them originally _-tch_. But the common modification in sense is not so easily perceived here as in the cases of strengthening.

I may here, for the curiosity of the thing, mention that in a ‘language’ coined by two English children (a vocabulary of which was communicated to me by one of the inventors through Miss I. C. Ward, of the Department of Phonetics, University College, London) there was a word _bal_ which meant ‘place,’ but the bigger the place the longer the vowel was made, so that with three different quantities it meant ‘village,’ ‘town’ and ‘city’ respectively. The word for ‘go’ was _dudu_, “the greater the speed of the going, the more quickly the word was said--[dœ·dœ·] walk slowly.” Cf. Humboldt, ed. Steinthal 82: “In the southern dialect of the Guarani language the suffix of the perfect _yma_ is pronounced more or less slowly according to the more or less remoteness of the past to be indicated.”

XX.--§ 10. General Considerations.

Sound symbolism, as we have considered it in this chapter, has a very wide range of application, from direct imitation of perceived natural sounds to such small quantitative changes of existing non-symbolic words as may be used for purely grammatical purposes. But in order to obtain a true valuation of this factor in the life of language it is of importance to keep in view the following considerations:

(1) No language utilizes sound symbolism to its full extent, but contains numerous words that are indifferent to or may even jar with symbolism. To express smallness the vowel [i] is most adequate, but it would be absurd to say that that vowel always implies smallness, or that smallness is always expressed by words containing that vowel: it is enough to mention the words _big_ and _small_, or to point to the fact that _thick_ and _thin_ have the same vowel, to repudiate such a notion.

(2) Words that have been symbolically expressive may cease to be so in consequence of historical development, either phonetic or semantic or both. Thus the name of the bird _crow_ is not now so good an imitation of the sound made by the bird as OE. _crawe_ was (Dan. _krage_, Du. _kraai_). Thus, also, the verbs _whine_, _pipe_ were better imitations when the vowel was still [i·] (as in Dan. _hvine_, _pibe_). But to express the sound of a small bird the latter word is still pronounced with the vowel [i] either long or short (_peep_, _pip_), the word having been constantly renewed and as it were reshaped by fresh imitation; cf. on Irish _wheen_ and dialectal _peep_, XV § 8. Lat. _pipio_ originally meant any ‘peeping bird,’ but when it came to designate one particular kind of birds, it was free to follow the usual trend of phonetic development, and so has become Fr. _pigeon_ [piʒɔ̃], E. _pigeon_ [pidʒin]. E. _cuckoo_ has resisted the change from [u] to ʌ as in _cut_, because people have constantly heard the sound and fashioned the name of the bird from it. I once heard a Scotch lady say [kʌku·], but on my inquiry she told me that there were no cuckoos in her native place; hence the word had there been treated as any other word containing the short [u]. The same word is interesting in another way; it has resisted the old Gothonic consonant-shift, and thus has the same consonants as Skt. _kōkiláḥ_, Gr. _kókkux_, Lat. _cuculus_. On the general preservation of significative sounds, cf. Ch. XV § 8.

(3) On the other hand, some words have in course of time become more expressive than they were at first; we have something that may be called secondary echoism or secondary symbolism. The verb _patter_ comes from _pater_ (= _paternoster_), and at first meant to repeat that prayer, to mumble one’s prayers; but then it was associated with the homophonous verb _patter_ ‘to make a rapid succession of _pats_’ and came under the influence of echoic words like _prattle_, _chatter_, _jabber_; it now, like these, means ‘to talk rapidly or glibly’ and is to all intents a truly symbolical word; cf. also the substantive _patter_ ‘secret lingo, speechifying, talk.’ _Husky_ may at first have meant only “full of husks, of the nature of a husk” (NED), but it could not possibly from that signification have arrived at the now current sense ‘dry in the throat, hoarse’ if it had not been that the sound of the adjective had reminded one of the sound of a hoarse voice. Dan. _pöjt_ ‘poor drink, vile stuff’ is now felt as expressive of contempt, but it originates in _Poitou_, an innocent geographical name of a kind of wine, like _Bordeaux_; it is now connected with other scornful words like _spröjt_ and _döjt_.

In E. _little_ the symbolic vowel _i_ is regularly developed from OE. _y_, _lytel_, whose _y_ is a mutated _u_, as seen in OSax. _luttil_; _u_ also appears in other related languages, and the word thus originally had nothing symbolical about it. But in Gothic the word is _leitils_ (_ei_, sounded [i·]) and in ON. _lítinn_, and here the vowel is so difficult to account for on ordinary principles that the NED in despair thinks that the two words are “radically unconnected.” I have no hesitation in supposing that the vowel _i_ is due to sound symbolism, exactly as the smaller change introduced in modern E. ‘leetle,’ with narrow instead of wide (broad) [i]. In the word for the opposite meaning, _much_, the phonetic development may also have been influenced by the tendency to get an adequate vowel, for normally we should expect the vowel [i] as in Sc. _mickle_, from OE. _micel_. In E. _quick_ the vowel best adapted to the idea has prevailed instead of the one found in the old nom. forms _cwucu_, _cucu_ from _cwicu_ (inflected _cwicne_, _cwices_, etc.), while in the word _widu_, _wudu_, which is phonetically analogous, there was no such inducement, and the vowel [u] has been preserved: _wood_. The same prevalence of the symbolic _i_ is noticed in the Dan. adj. _kvik_, MLG. _quik_, while the same word as subst. has become Dan. _kvæg_, MLG. _quek_, where there was no symbolism at work, as it has come to mean ‘cattle.’ I even see symbolism in the preservation of the _k_ in the Dan. adj. (as against the fricative in _kvæg_), because the notion of ‘quick’ is best expressed by the short [i], interrupted by a stop; and may not the same force have been at work in this adjective at an earlier period? The second _k_ in OE. _cwicu_, ON. _kvikr_ as against Goth. _qius_, Lat. _vivus_, has not been sufficiently explained. An [i], symbolic of smallness, has been introduced in some comparatively recent E. words: _tip_ from _top_, _trip_ ‘small flock’ from _troop_, _sip_ ‘drink in small quantities’ from _sup_, _sop_.

Through changes in meaning, too, some words have become symbolically more expressive than they were formerly; thus the agreement between sound and sense is of late growth in _miniature_, which now, on account of the _i_, has come to mean ‘a small picture,’ while at first it meant ‘image painted with minium or vermilion,’ and in _pittance_, now ‘a scanty allowance,’ formerly any pious donation, whether great or small. Cf. what has been said above of _sullen_, _moody_, _catch_.

XX.--§ 11. Importance of Suggestiveness.

The suggestiveness of some words as felt by present-day speakers is a fact that must be taken into account if we are to understand the realities of language. In some cases it may have existed from the very first: these words sprang thus into being because that shape at once expressed the idea the speaker wished to communicate. In other cases the suggestive element is not original: these words arose in the same way as innumerable others whose sound has never carried any suggestion. But if the sound of a word of this class was, or came to be, in some way suggestive of its signification--say, if a word containing the vowel [i] in a prominent place meant ‘small’ or something small--then the sound exerted a strong influence in gaining popular favour to the word; it was an inducement to people to choose and to prefer that particular word and to cease to use words for the same notion that were not thus favoured. Sound symbolism, we may say, makes some words more fit to survive and gives them considerable help in their struggle for existence. If we want to denote a little child by a word for some small animal, we take some word like _kid_, _chick_, _kitten_, rather than _bat_ or _pug_ or _slug_, though these may in themselves be smaller than the animal chosen.

It is quite true that Fr. _rouler_, our _roll_, is derived from Lat. _rota_ ‘wheel’ + a diminutive ending _-ul-_, but the word would never have gained its immense popularity, extending as it does through English, Dutch, German and the Scandinavian languages, if the sound had not been eminently suggestive of the sense, so suggestive that it seems to us now _the_ natural expression for that idea, and we have difficulty in realizing that the word has not existed from the very dawn of speech. Or let me take another example, in which the connexion between sound and sense is even more ‘fortuitous.’ About a hundred years ago a member of Congress, Felix Walker, from Buncombe County, North Carolina, made a long and tedious speech. “Many members left the hall. Very naïvely he told those who remained that they might go too; he should speak for some time, but ‘he was only talking for Buncombe,’ to please his constituents.” Now _buncombe_ (_buncome_, _bunkum_) has become a widely used word, not only in the States, but all over the English-speaking world, for political speaking or action not resting on conviction, but on the desire of gaining the favour of electors, or for any kind of empty ‘clap-trap’ oratory; but does anybody suppose that the name of Mr. Walker’s constituency would have been thus used if he had happened to hail from Annapolis or Philadelphia, or some other place with a name incapable of tickling the popular fancy in the same way as _Buncombe_ does? (Cf. above, p. 401 on the suggestiveness of the short _u_.) In a similar way _hullaballoo_ seems to have originated from the Irish village _Ballyhooly_ (see P. W. Joyce, _English as we speak it in Ireland_) and to have become popular on account of its suggestive sound.

In loan-words we can often see that they have been adopted less on account of any cultural necessity (see above, p. 209) than because their sound was in some way or other suggestive. Thus the Algonkin (Natick) word for ‘chief,’ _mugquomp_, is used in the United States in the form of _mugwump_ for a ‘great man’ or ‘boss,’ and especially, in political life, for a man independent of parties and thinking himself superior to parties. Now, no one would have thought of going to an Indian language to express such a notion, had not an Indian word presented itself which from its uncouth sound lent itself to purposes of ridicule. Among other words whose adoption has been favoured by their sounds I may mention _jungle_ (from Hindi _jangal_, associated more or less closely with _jumble_, _tumble_, _bundle_, _bungle_); _bobbery_, in slang ‘noise, squabble,’ “the Anglo-Indian colloquial representation of a common exclamation of Hindus when in surprise or grief--_Bap-rē!_ or _Bap-rē Bap_ ‘O Father!’” (Hobson-Jobson); _amuck_; and U.S. _bunco_ ‘swindling game, to swindle,’ from It. _banco_.

XX.--§ 12. Ancient and Modern Times.

It will be seen that our conception of echoism and related phenomena does not carry us back to an imaginary primitive period: these forces are vital in languages as we observe them day by day. Linguistic writers, however, often assume that sound symbolism, if existing at all, must date back to the earliest times, and therefore can have no reality nowadays. Thus Benfey (Gesch 288) turns upon de Brosse, who had found rudeness in Fr. _rude_ and gentleness in Fr. _doux_, and says: “As if the sounds of such words, which are distant by an infinite length of time from the time when language originated, were able to contribute ever so little to explain the original designation of things.” (But Benfey is right in saying that the impression made by those two French words may be imaginary; as examples they are not particularly well chosen.) Sütterlin (WW 14) says: “It is bold to search for such correspondence as still existing in detail in the language of our own days. For words like _liebe_, _süss_ on the one hand, and _zorn_, _hass_, _hart_ on the other, which are often alleged by dilettanti, prove nothing to the scholar, because their form is young and must have had totally different sounds in the period when language was created.”

Similarly de Saussure (LG 104) gives as one of the main principles of our science that the tie between sound and sense is arbitrary or rather motiveless (immotivé), and to those who would object that onomatopoetic words are not arbitrary he says that “they are never organic elements of a linguistic system. Besides, they are much less numerous than is generally supposed. Such words as Fr. _fouet_ and _glas_ may strike some ears with a suggestive ring;[106] but they have not had that character from the start, as is sufficiently proved if we go back to their Latin forms (_fouet_ derived from _fagus_ ‘beech,’ _glas_ = _classicum_); the quality possessed by, or rather attributed to, their actual sounds is a fortuitous result of phonetic development.”

Here we see one of the characteristics of modern linguistic science: it is so preoccupied with etymology, with the origin of words, that it pays much more attention to what words have come from than to what they have come to be. If a word has not always been suggestive on account of its sound, then its actual suggestiveness is left out of account and may even be declared to be merely fanciful. I hope that this chapter contains throughout what is psychologically a more true and linguistically a more fruitful view.

Though some echo words may be very old, the great majority are not; at any rate, in looking up the earliest ascertained date of a goodly number of such words in the NED, I have been struck by the fact of so many of them being quite recent, not more than a few centuries old, and some not even that. To some extent their recent appearance in writing may be ascribed to the general character of the old literature as contrasted with our modern literature, which is less conventional, freer in many ways, more true to life with its infinite variety and more true, too, to the spoken language of every day. But that cannot account for everything, and there is every probability that this class of words is really more frequent in the spoken language of recent times than it was formerly, because people speak in a more vivid and fresh fashion than their ancestors of hundreds or thousands of years ago. The time of psychological reaction is shorter than it used to be, life moves at a more rapid rate, and people are less tied down to tradition than in former ages, consequently they are more apt to create and to adopt new words of this particular type, which are felt at once to be significant and expressive. In all languages the creation and use of echoic and symbolic words seems to have been on the increase in historical times. If to this we add the selective process through which words which have only secondarily acquired symbolical value survive at the cost of less adequate expressions, or less adequate forms of the same words, and subsequently give rise to a host of derivatives, then we may say that languages in course of time grow richer and richer in symbolic words. So far from believing in a golden primitive age, in which everything in language was expressive and immediately intelligible on account of the significative value of each group of sounds, we arrive rather, here as in other domains, at the conception of a slow progressive development towards a greater number of easy and adequate expressions--expressions in which sound and sense are united in a marriage-union closer than was ever known to our remote ancestors.

FOOTNOTES:

[100] “Inner and essential connexion between idea and word ... there is none, in any language upon earth,” says Whitney L 32.

[101] I have learnt very little from the discussion which followed Wundt’s remarks on the subject (S 1. 312-347); see Delbrück Grfr 78 ff., Sütterlin WSG 29 ff., Hilmer Sch 10 ff.

[102] Schuchardt, KS 5. 12, _Zs. f. rom. Phil._ 33. 458, Churchill B 53, Sandfeld-Jensen, _Nationalfølelsen_ 14, Lentzner, _Col._ 87, Simonyi US 157, _The Outlook_, January 1910, _New Quarterly Mag._, July 1879.

[103] _F_, for instance, in _fop_, _foozy_, _fogy_, _fogram_ (old), all of them more or less variants of _fool_.

[104] The preceding paragraphs on the symbolic value of _i_ are an abstract of a paper which will be printed in _Philologica_, vol. i.

[105] Benfey Gesch 791, Misteli 539, Wundt S 1. 331 (but his examples from out-of-the-way languages must be used with caution, and curiously enough he thinks that the phenomenon is limited to primitive languages and is not found in Semitic or Aryan languages), GRM 1. 638, Simonyi US 255, Meinhof, Ham 20.

[106] I must confess that I find nothing symbolical in _glas_ and very little in _fouet_ (though the verb _fouetter_ has something of the force of E. _whip_). On the whole, much of what people ‘hear’ in a word appears to me fanciful and apt to discredit reasonable attempts at gaining an insight into the essence of sound symbolism; thus E. Lerch’s ridiculous remark on G. _loch_ in GRM 7. 101: “_loch_ malt die bewegung, die der anblick eines solchen im beschauer auslöst, durch eine entsprechende bewegung der sprachwerkzeuge, beginnend mit der liquida zur bezeichnung der rundung und endend mit dem gutturalen _ch_ tief hinten in der gurgel.”