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.
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.