THE FORMATION OF NEW GROUPS.
The effect of sound-change is to produce differences in language where
none previously existed; but it likewise tends to cancel existing
differences, and to cause forms originally distinct to resemble each
other or actually to coincide. Now, symmetry and uniformity are clearly
an aid to the memory, when attained by the abolition of useless and
purposeless differences. It is, for instance, in English, far simpler to
state, and far more easy to remember the statement, that all plurals are
formed by adding _s_ to the singular, than that some are formed in _-n_,
or _-en_, or by such modifications as _man_, _men_; _foot_, _feet_;
etc.: and it is therefore a gain to language when such forms as _shoon_,
_eyen_, etc., disappear in favour of such forms as _shoes_, _eyes_, etc.
On the other hand, the cancelling of such differences when they serve to
mark different functions is naturally disadvantageous and tends to
obscurity. When a sound which marked such a functional difference
disappears, or when of two words or forms which had different meanings
one becomes obsolete, and the other is employed to do service for both,
it is clear that language cannot but be the loser by dispensing with an
important aid to clearness and distinction. Thus, of the two forms _mot_
and _moste_, the former has now disappeared, and the latter, in the
form _must_, serves to indicate both the present and the past tense. The
effect of this ambiguity is that where we wish to clearly indicate the
past of _must_, we have to employ some idiom in which _must_ has no
place; as ‘was obliged to,’ ‘had to,’ ‘was constrained to,’ etc.
Similarly, the loss of the plural _s_ in very many French nouns (which
_s_, though still written, is seldom sounded) would create ambiguity
were it not that the difference of the article attached to the noun
marks the difference, and to a large extent remedies the evil; cf.
_l’ami_, _les amis_.
The remedy, however, for such obscurity is not always to be found in the
context. Sometimes, indeed, the evil brings its own cure; changes arise
which enable the necessary distinctions to be once more felt and
maintained, creating new forms by analogy with other forms (see Chapter
V.): but, on the other hand, it frequently occurs that the evil remains,
and a confusion follows in the grouping of the words; which grouping, as
we have seen, is all-important in the life history of the members of the
group.
We must in this chapter endeavour to study some of the results of this
confusion, and consequent re-arrangement in the groups; and to
distinguish the cases where similarity caused by phonetic development
affects the matter-groups from those where the modal-groups are
influenced.
I. i. There are many cases where words connected neither by etymology
nor by signification fall into the same form.
Still, in spite of this similarity in form, the words remain perfectly
distinct in the linguistic consciousness of a speaker of ordinary
intelligence. Such are, _e.g._,--
1. _a. Hale_, in such a phrase as _hale and hearty_. This word is of
Scandinavian[94] origin (cf. Icelandic _heill_), and represents the
Anglo-Saxon _hál_, to which word we owe the misspelt word _whole_. _b._
_Hale_, ‘to drag,’ found in Middle-English as _halien_.
2. _a. Whole_ = A.S. _hál_; see above. _b. Hole_ = A.S. _hol_, ‘a
cave.’[95]
3. _a. Grave_ (A.S. _gráfan_). _b. Grave_ (Fr. _grave_, Lat.
_gravem_).[96]
4. _a. Cope_ (O.Fr. _cape_). _b. Cope_ (Dutch _koopen_ = to
_bargain, to chaffer, to buy, to vie with_).
5. _a. Stile_ (A.S. _stigel_). _b. Stile_ (commonly misspelt
_style_, Lat. _stilum_).
6. _a. Well_, adverb (A.S. _wel_). _b. Well_, noun (A.S. _wella_).
7. _a. Arm_ (Lat. _arma_). _b. Arm_, the limb, cognate with Ger.
_arm_.
8. _a. Lay_ (A.S. _lecgan_). _b. Lay_ (O.Fr. _lais_, ‘song’).
9. _a. Pale_ (Fr. _pal_, Lat. _pāum_). _b. Pale_ (Fr. _pâle_, Lat.
_pallidum_).
10. _a. Elder_, the tree (A.S. _ellarn_). _b. Elder_, ‘older.’
It would, of course, be possible to extend this list to almost any
length; but this would be useless for our purpose, which is to
investigate solely those cases in which similarity causes confusion.
This happens where the difference in origin and meaning is lost sight
of. It is naturally impossible to draw a hard and fast line of
demarcation between the case just discussed and that which we are about
to exemplify, as one speaker may keep distinct what another may confuse
or treat as identical. Still, no one, we may fairly say, unless he be a
student of language, or unless he has been expressly informed, is aware
that in a phrase like _The ship is bound for London_, the word _bound_
employed by him has absolutely no connection with the past participle of
the verb _to bind_. In the first case, _bound_ is of Scandinavian
origin, and meant originally _ready_, _prepared_; cf. the Icelandic verb
_búa_, perf. part, _búinn_, ‘to prepare.’ Similarly, few ordinary
speakers can explain, or indeed realise, the existence of the
distinction in meaning between _shed_, ‘a hut’ (a doublet of _shade_),
and _shed_ in _water-shed_, when derived from the A.S. _scéadan_; or
that between _sheer_, allied to Icelandic _skærr_, ‘bright,’ and
_sheer_, akin to Dutch _scheren_, ‘to shave.’ Thus, again, many might
suppose that some etymological connection existed between _hide_, ‘a
skin’ (A.S. _hýd_, akin to Ger. _haut_), and _hide_, ‘to conceal’ (A.S.
_hídan_); while others, when told that _hide_ also served as the name
for a certain measure of land, might naturally even suspect some
allusion to the famous legend of the foundation of Byrsa or Carthage.
The A.S. noun _setl_ (a seat) and the verb _settan_ survive both in the
word _settle_ and in _to settle_. In employing, however, the word in ‘to
settle a dispute,’ we have a word of very different origin: the A.S.
_sacu_, ‘a quarrel,’ ‘dispute,’ ‘lawsuit’ (surviving in ‘for my _sake_’,
etc.), existed side by side with a verb _sacan_, ‘to strive,’ or
‘dispute:’ akin to this, we find _saht_, a substantive which owes its
meaning, ‘reconciliation,’ to the development _lawsuit_, _adjustment by
lawsuit_, etc. Again, derived from this we have the verb _sahtlian_, ‘to
reconcile,’ which, at a later period, occurs in the forms _saztlen_ and
_sattle_.[97] When this verb ceased to be understood, confusion with the
other verb _to settle_ = _to fix_, _to arrange_, arose, and the two
forms ‘flowed together, just as two drops of rain running down a
window-pane are very likely to run into one.’[98] Another instance of
this nature is discussed by Professor Skeat, s.v.; viz., _sound_ = A.S.
_sund_, akin to the Ger. _(ge)sund_; _sound_, ‘a strait of the sea,’ and
_sound_’ M.E. _soun_, Anglo-Fr. _soun_ or _sun_, Lat. _sonum_.
ii. Such forms, where phonetic development brought about merely a close
resemblance without producing perfect similarity, and where, as a next
step, one or other of the set of words underwent some change more or
less violent in consequence of its supposed connection with the rest,
are peculiarly instructive, proving as they do the confusion which arose
in the minds of the speakers who thus combined what was distinct and
unconnected. In these cases we have entered upon the domain of ‘popular
etymology,’ to which we have already incidentally alluded.
It does not, however, always follow that the supposed connection in
meaning--in other words, the coalescence of elements of different origin
into a single material group, brings about the further change in form;
at this period nothing but the linguistic consciousness of the speaker
can decide whether the ‘popular etymology’ is or has been at work. Of
course, as long as the etymology of the different words in the set is
clearly understood by the speaker, there can be no question as to the
connection, but when one or more of the members of the set is no longer
understood in its historical bearings, it is possible for a new grouping
to arise.
Let us take, as an instance, the word _carousal_. This bore originally
the sense which it bears in the Parisian name of the _Place du
Carrousel_, viz. a tournament or festival. It was confused with the word
_carouse_ (Ger. _gar-aus_ = properly ‘quite out,’ _i.e._ ‘empty your
glasses’); and at present our word _carousal_ represents both. The
Anglo-Saxon word _bonda_ meant a boor, or householder. His tenure
appears expressed in Low Latin by the word _bondagium_, and it is only
to a supposed, but wholly erroneous connection with _bond_ and the verb
_to bind_, that our present word _bondage_ owes its sense of
_servitude_.
The Fr. _sursis_ gave us, before its final _s_ had ceased to be
pronounced, our verb _surcease_, which most speakers now look on as a
compound of _cease_ (Fr. _cesser_).[99] _Wiseacre_, really derived
through the Dutch from the Ger. _wízago_ (A.S. _witega_, ‘a prophet’),
was already, while on its way to England, misunderstood in Holland, and
taken to be a compound of _wise_. In Dutch, a verb _wys-seggen_ and a
noun _wys-segger_ (‘to speak wisely’ and ‘a wise sayer’) were formed,
and modern German as well possesses the word _weissagen_, ‘to prophesy.’
This _wys-segger_, when it reached England, could no longer be
understood as a derivative from the verb _secgan_, which in English had
already lost its guttural and had become _(to) say_; and thus popular
etymology altered the second part of the supposed compound into the
meaningless _acre_. The Fr. _surlonge_, the piece of meat ‘upon the
loin’ (Lat. _super_, Fr. _sur_, and Lat. *_lumbea_, from _lumbus_, Fr.
_longe_), became in English the _surloyn_ in the time of Henry VI. This
was no longer understood; the word was accepted as a compound with the
word _sir_, and thus the fable was invented of the ‘merry monarch’
knighting the loin.[100] The _berfroit_ or _belefreit_ of Old French is
of German origin, and signifies a watchtower. The word had ceased to be
understood, and its origin was forgotten; but, as many towers contained
a bell or a peal of bells, a supposed connection with these bells caused
the word to be changed into _belfry_. The spelling is affected in
_sovereign_, where the _g_ is due to a supposed connection with _to
reign_ (_régner_, _regnare_); the real derivation being from _soverain_
(_superaneum_), and the word being correctly spelt _sovran_ by Milton.
Further instances are _lance-knight_ (= _lanz-knecht_ = _landes knecht_
= ‘the _knight_, _i.e._ the _man_-of the _land_,’ ‘the servant of his
country’); _cray-fish_ (= _écrévisse_); _shamefaced_ (really
_shamefast_, like _steadfast_), etc.
In other cases of rarer occurrence than those which we have discussed, a
significant part of a compound assumes the form of a mere derivative.
This has occurred in the case of the word _righteous_, taken to be a
derivative from some French adjective in _-eux_, Lat. _-osus_, though
really due to _right-wise_, a compound like _otherwise_. It is natural
that Proper nouns, where there is no connection or only a fanciful one
between the word and its meaning, should be more liable to such
transformations than others; so the _Rose des quatre saisons_ appears as
the _quarter-sessions rose_, the _asparagus_ appears as _sparrow grass_,
the ship _Bellerophon_ becomes the _Billy ruffan_,[101] the _Pteroessa_,
the _tearing hisser_. We may perhaps add here a word like _liquorice_,
which, though the name, rightly understood, is descriptive, has become a
mere proper noun. Originally from _liquiritia_, itself a corrupt form of
_glykyrrhiza_ = ‘a sweet root,’ it has, as its spelling shows, become
connected with _liquor_,[102] while those who deemed this impossible
preferred to explain the word as connected with _to lick_.[103]
II. Important, then, as the part played by phonetic development is in
bringing about the formation of new material-groups, it has made its
influence felt more widely still in the modal grouping of the various
systems of inflection.
Here, again, two cases should be distinguished: (1) when forms which
have had identical functions come to coincide: (2) when such coincidence
occurs in the case of forms that have had different functions.
1. The cancelling of diversities in form or in inflection when such
inflection indicated no difference in function must obviously on the
whole be set down as a gain to language: simplicity is gained thereby
without any loss in clearness. This gain, however, is only effected
when the abolition is complete; should the abolition be partial only,
simplification may be gained at the expense of a new confusion.
We have an example of such a complete process of cancelling in the
terminations _er_ and _est_ in the comparative and superlative of
adjectives. In Gothic the comparative was formed either with the suffix
_iz_ or _ôz_, the superlative with _ist_ or with _ōst_; and, except,
indeed, that the forms in _iz_ and _ist_ were more common than those in
_ôz_ and _ôst_, and that the latter are found only with stems in _a_, no
rule can be given for their occurrence. Thus _mānags_ (an _a_ stem) has
in its comparative _managiz-a_, superlative _managists_; _alðeis_ (_ja_
stem) _alðiza_, _alðists_; _hardus_ (_u_ stem), _hardiza_, _hardists_;
but _frôðs_, _frôdôza_, _frôdôsts_; _arms_, _armôza_, _armôsts_.[104] In
Old High German there was a similar uncertainty. Here the _z_ of Gothic
appeared as _r_ in the comparatives,[105] and while _salîg_ has for its
comparative _salîgôro_ and its superlative _salîgôsto_, we find
_(h)reini_, _(h)reiniro_, _(h)reinisto_.[106] In Anglo-Saxon we find
already but a single termination for the comparative, viz. _ra_; but the
two forms of superlative are still extant in _ost_ and _est_; _earm_,
_earmra_, _earmost_; _heard_, _heardra_, _heardost_; but _eald_,
_ieldra_ (with _umlaut_ or modified vowel),[107] _ieldest_. Our forms
_hard_, _harder_, _hardest_; _old_, _older_, _oldest_; _silly_,
_sillier_, _silliest_, etc., are clearly a further step in the right
direction of simplicity in system.
The convergence is, however, not always complete: sometimes it happens
that two systems coincide; and this coincidence may be (1) in ALL FORMS
but only in SOME WORDS belonging to each system; or, again, (2) it may
manifest itself in ALL WORDS but only in SOME FORMS; and, lastly, this
coincidence may affect (3) only SOME WORDS in SOME FORMS of two
converging systems.
In the case of (1) the convergence is complete and irrevocable, and
words which formerly belonged to one system have simply parted company
with it, and have definitely joined the other to which they were
assimilated. In the cases, however, of (2) and (3), confusion must
arise, and further development must be looked for. We find a good
illustration of this confusion and of its development in the history of
the Teutonic declensions. In the case of these, as of other
Indo-European languages, the declensions differed as the stems of the
words terminated in a consonant or a vowel; and amongst the latter,
again, we must draw distinctions between the declension of stems in _a_,
(_o_), _i_, and _u_. In the _a_ declension, again, a subdivision arose
for _pure a_, _ja_, _wa_, and _long ā_ stems. These different
terminations of the stems are, for instance, clearly preserved in Gothic
dat. and acc. plur. _dags_, _dagam_, _dagans_; _gasts_, _gastim_,
_gastins_; _sunus_, _sunum_, _sununs_; and (with Gothic _ō_ instead of
_ā_) _gibā_, _gibōm_, _gibōs_. In the oldest forms of Scandinavian, the
so-called Ur-Norse, also, we find the vowels preserved in the nominative
singular, _holingar_, _erilar_, etc., _gastir_, _staldir_, etc.,
_haukoður_, _warur_:[108] but even in these, the oldest forms of the
Teutonic dialects accessible to us, the various systems were confused;
and it is the study of Comparative Grammar that we have to thank for the
distinction between the different classes; and, again, it is only owing
to the light shed on the subject by the comparison with Latin, Greek,
and Sanskrit cognates, that we are enabled in some instances to decide
to which of these classes any given word belongs. The ‘wearing down’ of
the various terminations produced here identity, elsewhere close
resemblance of many cases in many words, while in other cases the
influence of the preceding letter made itself felt, and a difference in
declension arose for the _a_ stems: this difference depending on whether
the _a_ was preceded by a consonant _i_ (_j_) or _w_. Where phonetic
development had caused some of the cases to agree, other cases soon
followed suit, and thus we find, for instance, that even in Gothic the
entire singular of _i_ declension has already become identical with that
of the _a_ stems:--
_a_ stem. _i_ stem.
Sing. Nom. _dags_ _balgs_
Gen. _dagis_ _balgis_
Dat. _daga_ _balga_
Acc. _dag_ _balg_
Voc. _dag_ _balg_
Plur. Nom. _dagôs_ _balgeis_
Gen. _dagê_ _balgê_
Dat. _dagam_ _balgim_
Acc. _dagans_ _balgins_.
As a consequence of this, numerous words which cognate languages prove
to belong to the _i_ declension are nevertheless entirely declined like
_a_ stems in Gothic; and even in the very few Gothic texts which we
possess, and though these are derived from one source only, we meet with
words evidencing the fact that Ulfilas himself (or, it may be, his
copyist) was sometimes confused as to the declension usually followed by
some word in his own language. Thus, in case of _wêgs_ (a wave), we find
norm plur. _wêgôs_, but dat. plur. _wêgim_; so too, the dat. plur. of
_aiws_ is _aiwam_, while the accus. is _aiwins_. In Old High German the
coincidence in termination between these two schemes goes further, and
extends over _all cases_; but since--in such words as had _a_, _o_, or
_u_, in the preceding syllable--_umlaut_ had been produced in the plural
by the _i_ of the stem, only those words whose stem vowel would not
admit of _umlaut_ or _modification_ became throughout identical with the
_a_ declension. Where the reverse was the case, the words naturally
remained distinct in the plural, and a further development arose; viz.
that this _umlaut_ in the plural began to be regarded as a sign of that
number, and to be used for the purpose of marking it even in words whose
etymology afforded no justification for the change, _e.g._ in _hand_,
_hände_, which word originally belonged to the _u_ declension. See also
our remarks in Chapter V. pp. 87 and foll.
2. So far, in every case which we have discussed, we have had to do with
similarity arising from phonetic development of forms with identical
functions: one or more cases of one system _converged_ with the same
cases in another system. Often, however, this same phonetic development
creates a similarity between forms which were originally distinct and
served distinct purposes; and we have a good instance of this in our
personal pronouns, and one which is instructive as to the consequences
of this phenomenon:--
The Gothic _ik_ _meina_ _mis_ _mik_
_ðu_ _ðeina_ _ðus_ _ðuk_
_weis_ _unsara_ _uns_ _uns_
_jus_ _izwara_ _izwis_ _izwis_
already shows no difference in the forms of accusative and dative
plural; but in Anglo-Saxon we find that a further stage has been
reached:--
In _ic_ _mín_ _mé_ _mé_
_ðú_ _ðín_ _ðé_ _ðé_
_wé_ _úser_ _ús_ _ús_
_gé_ _eówer_ _eów_ _eów_
we see (though separate forms for accusative still occur) that dative
and accusative have become identical _throughout_, and so it is in the
modern language with--
_I_ _mine_ _me_
_thou_ _thine_ _thee_
_we_ _our_ _us_
_ye_ (_you_) _your_ _you_
The double form of the nominative _ye_ (_you_), and more especially the
history of the pronoun for the third person, illustrate one of the
consequences of such coincidence, viz. that the language-producing
community becomes accustomed to use the same form for certain sets of
functions, and transfers this similarity to cases which it would not
reach--or, at least, has not yet reached--by the aid of phonetic
development alone. Let us consider first the pronoun of the third
person. In Anglo-Saxon we find--
Sing. Masc. Fem. Neuter.
Nom. _hé_ _heó_ _hit_
Gen. _his_ _hire_ _his_
Dat. _him_ _hire_ _him_
Acc. _hine_ _hí_ _hit_.
The forms which we now use for the plural are derived from a different
stem,[109] which in Anglo-Saxon gave us the following plural for all
three genders:--
Nom. _ðá_
Gen. _ðára_, or _ðǽra_
Dat. _ðǽm_
Acc. _ðá_
and here we find distinct forms for dative and accusative, the latter of
which has now disappeared, so that here, too (as in the case of the
other personal pronouns), we use one form only (the original dative
form) for both dative and accusative. But we have only reached this
stage after a period of confusion and uncertainty, during which the
historically correct form of the accusative and the new form (that of
the old dative) strove for permanence.
It is the very marked difference between _ic_ (_I_) and _me_ (accus.),
_ðu_ (_thou_) and _ðe_, _we_ and _us_, which has protected the members
of these pairs from becoming identical in form, notwithstanding the
important fact that such a process had long since identified the
nominative and accusative of all nouns and adjectives. To this
influence, indeed, _ye_ and _you_ (both of which, when unemphatic,
become _ye_, where _e_ is pronounced as in _the_ before a consonant)
have succumbed.
Not only in this way, moreover, does such convergence of forms with
different functions show its effect: it also causes the ordinary speaker
to lose sight of such difference in function altogether. As students of
Latin, and especially teachers of that language, know by sad experience,
it is extremely hard for the untrained English mind to realise the
function of the accusative case; and the difference between this case
and the dative may be fairly described as non-existent for the
Englishman who has not learnt it from the study of other languages.
This, again, influences syntax, so that a phrase like _I showed him the
room_ can be turned in the passive into _The room was shown (to) him_,
etc., or _He was shown the room_, etc.