The question of form in language presents itself under two aspects. We
may either consider the formal methods employed by a language, its
"grammatical processes," or we may ascertain the distribution of
concepts with reference to formal expression. What are the formal
patterns of the language? And what types of concepts make up the content
of these formal patterns? The two points of view are quite distinct. The
English word _unthinkingly_ is, broadly speaking, formally parallel to
the word _reformers_, each being built up on a radical element which may
occur as an independent verb (_think_, _form_), this radical element
being preceded by an element (_un-_, _re-_) that conveys a definite and
fairly concrete significance but that cannot be used independently, and
followed by two elements (_-ing_, _-ly_; _-er_, _-s_) that limit the
application of the radical concept in a relational sense. This formal
pattern--(b) + A + (c) + (d)[26]--is a characteristic feature of the
language. A countless number of functions may be expressed by it; in
other words, all the possible ideas conveyed by such prefixed and
suffixed elements, while tending to fall into minor groups, do not
necessarily form natural, functional systems. There is no logical
reason, for instance, why the numeral function of _-s_ should be
formally expressed in a manner that is analogous to the expression of
the idea conveyed by _-ly_. It is perfectly conceivable that in another
language the concept of manner (_-ly_) may be treated according to an
entirely different pattern from that of plurality. The former might have
to be expressed by an independent word (say, _thus unthinking_), the
latter by a prefixed element (say, _plural[27]-reform-er_). There are,
of course, an unlimited number of other possibilities. Even within the
confines of English alone the relative independence of form and function
can be made obvious. Thus, the negative idea conveyed by _un-_ can be
just as adequately expressed by a suffixed element (_-less_) in such a
word as _thoughtlessly_. Such a twofold formal expression of the
negative function would be inconceivable in certain languages, say
Eskimo, where a suffixed element would alone be possible. Again, the
plural notion conveyed by the _-s_ of _reformers_ is just as definitely
expressed in the word _geese_, where an utterly distinct method
is employed. Furthermore, the principle of vocalic change
(_goose_--_geese_) is by no means confined to the expression of the idea
of plurality; it may also function as an indicator of difference of time
(e.g., _sing_--_sang_, _throw_--_threw_). But the expression in English
of past time is not by any means always bound up with a change of vowel.
In the great majority of cases the same idea is expressed by means of a
distinct suffix (_die-d_, _work-ed_). Functionally, _died_ and _sang_
are analogous; so are _reformers_ and _geese_. Formally, we must arrange
these words quite otherwise. Both _die-d_ and _re-form-er-s_ employ the
method of suffixing grammatical elements; both _sang_ and _geese_ have
grammatical form by virtue of the fact that their vowels differ from the
vowels of other words with which they are closely related in form and
meaning (_goose_; _sing_, _sung_).
[Footnote 26: For the symbolism, see chapter II.]
[Footnote 27: "_Plural_" is here a symbol for any prefix indicating
plurality.]
Every language possesses one or more formal methods or indicating the
relation of a secondary concept to the main concept of the radical
element. Some of these grammatical processes, like suffixing, are
exceedingly wide-spread; others, like vocalic change, are less common
but far from rare; still others, like accent and consonantal change, are
somewhat exceptional as functional processes. Not all languages are as
irregular as English in the assignment of functions to its stock of
grammatical processes. As a rule, such basic concepts as those of
plurality and time are rendered by means of one or other method alone,
but the rule has so many exceptions that we cannot safely lay it down as
a principle. Wherever we go we are impressed by the fact that pattern is
one thing, the utilization of pattern quite another. A few further
examples of the multiple expression of identical functions in other
languages than English may help to make still more vivid this idea of
the relative independence of form and function.
In Hebrew, as in other Semitic languages, the verbal idea as such is
expressed by three, less often by two or four, characteristic
consonants. Thus, the group _sh-m-r_ expresses the idea of "guarding,"
the group _g-n-b_ that of "stealing," _n-t-n_ that of "giving."
Naturally these consonantal sequences are merely abstracted from the
actual forms. The consonants are held together in different forms by
characteristic vowels that vary according to the idea that it is desired
to express. Prefixed and suffixed elements are also frequently used. The
method of internal vocalic change is exemplified in _shamar_ "he has
guarded," _shomer_ "guarding," _shamur_ "being guarded," _shmor_ "(to)
guard." Analogously, _ganab_ "he has stolen," _goneb_ "stealing,"
_ganub_ "being stolen," _gnob_ "(to) steal." But not all infinitives are
formed according to the type of _shmor_ and _gnob_ or of other types of
internal vowel change. Certain verbs suffix a _t_-element for the
infinitive, e.g., _ten-eth_ "to give," _heyo-th_ "to be." Again, the
pronominal ideas may be expressed by independent words (e.g., _anoki_
"I"), by prefixed elements (e.g., _e-shmor_ "I shall guard"), or by
suffixed elements (e.g., _shamar-ti_ "I have guarded"). In Nass, an
Indian language of British Columbia, plurals are formed by four distinct
methods. Most nouns (and verbs) are reduplicated in the plural, that is,
part of the radical element is repeated, e.g., _gyat_ "person,"
_gyigyat_ "people." A second method is the use of certain characteristic
prefixes, e.g., _an'on_ "hand," _ka-an'on_ "hands"; _wai_ "one paddles,"
_lu-wai_ "several paddle." Still other plurals are formed by means of
internal vowel change, e.g., _gwula_ "cloak," _gwila_ "cloaks." Finally,
a fourth class of plurals is constituted by such nouns as suffix a
grammatical element, e.g., _waky_ "brother," _wakykw_ "brothers."
From such groups of examples as these--and they might be multiplied _ad
nauseam_--we cannot but conclude that linguistic form may and should be
studied as types of patterning, apart from the associated functions. We
are the more justified in this procedure as all languages evince a
curious instinct for the development of one or more particular
grammatical processes at the expense of others, tending always to lose
sight of any explicit functional value that the process may have had in
the first instance, delighting, it would seem, in the sheer play of its
means of expression. It does not matter that in such a case as the
English _goose_--_geese_, _foul_--_defile_, _sing_--_sang_--_sung_ we
can prove that we are dealing with historically distinct processes,
that the vocalic alternation of _sing_ and _sang_, for instance, is
centuries older as a specific type of grammatical process than the
outwardly parallel one of _goose_ and _geese_. It remains true that
there is (or was) an inherent tendency in English, at the time such
forms as _geese_ came into being, for the utilization of vocalic change
as a significant linguistic method. Failing the precedent set by such
already existing types of vocalic alternation as _sing_--_sang_--_sung_,
it is highly doubtful if the detailed conditions that brought about the
evolution of forms like _teeth_ and _geese_ from _tooth_ and _goose_
would have been potent enough to allow the native linguistic feeling to
win through to an acceptance of these new types of plural formation as
psychologically possible. This feeling for form as such, freely
expanding along predetermined lines and greatly inhibited in certain
directions by the lack of controlling types of patterning, should be
more clearly understood than it seems to be. A general survey of many
diverse types of languages is needed to give us the proper perspective
on this point. We saw in the preceding chapter that every language has
an inner phonetic system of definite pattern. We now learn that it has
also a definite feeling for patterning on the level of grammatical
formation. Both of these submerged and powerfully controlling impulses
to definite form operate as such, regardless of the need for expressing
particular concepts or of giving consistent external shape to particular
groups of concepts. It goes without saying that these impulses can find
realization only in concrete functional expression. We must say
something to be able to say it in a certain manner.
Let us now take up a little more systematically, however briefly, the
various grammatical processes that linguistic research has established.
They may be grouped into six main types: word order; composition;
affixation, including the use of prefixes, suffixes, and infixes;
internal modification of the radical or grammatical element, whether
this affects a vowel or a consonant; reduplication; and accentual
differences, whether dynamic (stress) or tonal (pitch). There are also
special quantitative processes, like vocalic lengthening or shortening
and consonantal doubling, but these may be looked upon as particular
sub-types of the process of internal modification. Possibly still other
formal types exist, but they are not likely to be of importance in a
general survey. It is important to bear in mind that a linguistic
phenomenon cannot be looked upon as illustrating a definite "process"
unless it has an inherent functional value. The consonantal change in
English, for instance, of _book-s_ and _bag-s_ (_s_ in the former, _z_
in the latter) is of no functional significance. It is a purely
external, mechanical change induced by the presence of a preceding
voiceless consonant, _k_, in the former case, of a voiced consonant,
_g_, in the latter. This mechanical alternation is objectively the same
as that between the noun _house_ and the verb _to house_. In the latter
case, however, it has an important grammatical function, that of
transforming a noun into a verb. The two alternations belong, then, to
entirely different psychological categories. Only the latter is a true
illustration of consonantal modification as a grammatical process.
The simplest, at least the most economical, method of conveying some
sort of grammatical notion is to juxtapose two or more words in a
definite sequence without making any attempt by inherent modification of
these words to establish a connection between them. Let us put down two
simple English words at random, say _sing praise_. This conveys no
finished thought in English, nor does it clearly establish a relation
between the idea of singing and that of praising. Nevertheless, it is
psychologically impossible to hear or see the two words juxtaposed
without straining to give them some measure of coherent significance.
The attempt is not likely to yield an entirely satisfactory result, but
what is significant is that as soon as two or more radical concepts are
put before the human mind in immediate sequence it strives to bind them
together with connecting values of some sort. In the case of _sing
praise_ different individuals are likely to arrive at different
provisional results. Some of the latent possibilities of the
juxtaposition, expressed in currently satisfying form, are: _sing praise
(to him)!_ or _singing praise, praise expressed in a song_ or _to sing
and praise_ or _one who sings a song of praise_ (compare such English
compounds as _killjoy_, i.e., _one who kills joy_) or _he sings a song
of praise (to him)_. The theoretical possibilities in the way of
rounding out these two concepts into a significant group of concepts or
even into a finished thought are indefinitely numerous. None of them
will quite work in English, but there are numerous languages where one
or other of these amplifying processes is habitual. It depends entirely
on the genius of the particular language what function is inherently
involved in a given sequence of words.
Some languages, like Latin, express practically all relations by means
of modifications within the body of the word itself. In these, sequence
is apt to be a rhetorical rather than a strictly grammatical principle.
Whether I say in Latin _hominem femina videt_ or _femina hominem videt_
or _hominem videt femina_ or _videt femina hominem_ makes little or no
difference beyond, possibly, a rhetorical or stylistic one. _The woman
sees the man_ is the identical significance of each of these sentences.
In Chinook, an Indian language of the Columbia River, one can be equally
free, for the relation between the verb and the two nouns is as
inherently fixed as in Latin. The difference between the two languages
is that, while Latin allows the nouns to establish their relation to
each other and to the verb, Chinook lays the formal burden entirely on
the verb, the full content of which is more or less adequately rendered
by _she-him-sees_. Eliminate the Latin case suffixes (_-a_ and _-em_)
and the Chinook pronominal prefixes (_she-him-_) and we cannot afford to
be so indifferent to our word order. We need to husband our resources.
In other words, word order takes on a real functional value. Latin and
Chinook are at one extreme. Such languages as Chinese, Siamese, and
Annamite, in which each and every word, if it is to function properly,
falls into its assigned place, are at the other extreme. But the
majority of languages fall between these two extremes. In English, for
instance, it may make little grammatical difference whether I say
_yesterday the man saw the dog_ or _the man saw the dog yesterday_, but
it is not a matter of indifference whether I say _yesterday the man saw
the dog_ or _yesterday the dog saw the man_ or whether I say _he is
here_ or _is he here?_ In the one case, of the latter group of examples,
the vital distinction of subject and object depends entirely on the
placing of certain words of the sentence, in the latter a slight
difference of sequence makes all the difference between statement and
question. It goes without saying that in these cases the English
principle of word order is as potent a means of expression as is the
Latin use of case suffixes or of an interrogative particle. There is
here no question of functional poverty, but of formal economy.
We have already seen something of the process of composition, the
uniting into a single word of two or more radical elements.
Psychologically this process is closely allied to that of word order in
so far as the relation between the elements is implied, not explicitly
stated. It differs from the mere juxtaposition of words in the sentence
in that the compounded elements are felt as constituting but parts of a
single word-organism. Such languages as Chinese and English, in which
the principle of rigid sequence is well developed, tend not infrequently
also to the development of compound words. It is but a step from such a
Chinese word sequence as _jin tak_ "man virtue," i.e., "the virtue of
men," to such more conventionalized and psychologically unified
juxtapositions as _t'ien tsz_ "heaven son," i.e., "emperor," or _shui
fu_ "water man," i.e., "water carrier." In the latter case we may as
well frankly write _shui-fu_ as a single word, the meaning of the
compound as a whole being as divergent from the precise etymological
values of its component elements as is that of our English word
_typewriter_ from the merely combined values of _type_ and _writer_. In
English the unity of the word _typewriter_ is further safeguarded by a
predominant accent on the first syllable and by the possibility of
adding such a suffixed element as the plural _-s_ to the whole word.
Chinese also unifies its compounds by means of stress. However, then, in
its ultimate origins the process of composition may go back to typical
sequences of words in the sentence, it is now, for the most part, a
specialized method of expressing relations. French has as rigid a word
order as English but does not possess anything like its power of
compounding words into more complex units. On the other hand, classical
Greek, in spite of its relative freedom in the placing of words, has a
very considerable bent for the formation of compound terms.
It is curious to observe how greatly languages differ in their ability
to make use of the process of composition. One would have thought on
general principles that so simple a device as gives us our _typewriter_
and _blackbird_ and hosts of other words would be an all but universal
grammatical process. Such is not the case. There are a great many
languages, like Eskimo and Nootka and, aside from paltry exceptions, the
Semitic languages, that cannot compound radical elements. What is even
stranger is the fact that many of these languages are not in the least
averse to complex word-formations, but may on the contrary effect a
synthesis that far surpasses the utmost that Greek and Sanskrit are
capable of. Such a Nootka word, for instance, as "when, as they say, he
had been absent for four days" might be expected to embody at least
three radical elements corresponding to the concepts of "absent,"
"four," and "day." As a matter of fact the Nootka word is utterly
incapable of composition in our sense. It is invariably built up out of
a single radical element and a greater or less number of suffixed
elements, some of which may have as concrete a significance as the
radical element itself. In, the particular case we have cited the
radical element conveys the idea of "four," the notions of "day" and
"absent" being expressed by suffixes that are as inseparable from the
radical nucleus of the word as is an English element like _-er_ from the
_sing_ or _hunt_ of such words as _singer_ and _hunter_. The tendency to
word synthesis is, then, by no means the same thing as the tendency to
compounding radical elements, though the latter is not infrequently a
ready means for the synthetic tendency to work with.
There is a bewildering variety of types of composition. These types
vary according to function, the nature of the compounded elements, and
order. In a great many languages composition is confined to what we may
call the delimiting function, that is, of the two or more compounded
elements one is given a more precisely qualified significance by the
others, which contribute nothing to the formal build of the sentence. In
English, for instance, such compounded elements as _red_ in _redcoat_ or
_over_ in _overlook_ merely modify the significance of the dominant
_coat_ or _look_ without in any way sharing, as such, in the predication
that is expressed by the sentence. Some languages, however, such as
Iroquois and Nahuatl,[28] employ the method of composition for much
heavier work than this. In Iroquois, for instance, the composition of a
noun, in its radical form, with a following verb is a typical method of
expressing case relations, particularly of the subject or object.
_I-meat-eat_ for instance, is the regular Iroquois method of expressing
the sentence _I am eating meat_. In other languages similar forms may
express local or instrumental or still other relations. Such English
forms as _killjoy_ and _marplot_ also illustrate the compounding of a
verb and a noun, but the resulting word has a strictly nominal, not a
verbal, function. We cannot say _he marplots_. Some languages allow the
composition of all or nearly all types of elements. Paiute, for
instance, may compound noun with noun, adjective with noun, verb with
noun to make a noun, noun with verb to make a verb, adverb with verb,
verb with verb. Yana, an Indian language of California, can freely
compound noun with noun and verb with noun, but not verb with verb.
On the other hand, Iroquois can compound only noun with verb, never
noun and noun as in English or verb and verb as in so many other
languages. Finally, each language has its characteristic types of order
of composition. In English the qualifying element regularly precedes; in
certain other languages it follows. Sometimes both types are used in the
same language, as in Yana, where "beef" is "bitter-venison" but
"deer-liver" is expressed by "liver-deer." The compounded object of a
verb precedes the verbal element in Paiute, Nahuatl, and Iroquois,
follows it in Yana, Tsimshian,[29] and the Algonkin languages.
[Footnote 28: The language of the Aztecs, still spoken in large parts of
Mexico.]
[Footnote 29: Indian language of British Columbia closely related to the
Nass already cited.]
Of all grammatical processes affixing is incomparably the most
frequently employed. There are languages, like Chinese and Siamese, that
make no grammatical use of elements that do not at the same time possess
an independent value as radical elements, but such languages are
uncommon. Of the three types of affixing--the use of prefixes, suffixes,
and infixes--suffixing is much the commonest. Indeed, it is a fair guess
that suffixes do more of the formative work of language than all other
methods combined. It is worth noting that there are not a few affixing
languages that make absolutely no use of prefixed elements but possess a
complex apparatus of suffixes. Such are Turkish, Hottentot, Eskimo,
Nootka, and Yana. Some of these, like the three last mentioned, have
hundreds of suffixed elements, many of them of a concreteness of
significance that would demand expression in the vast majority of
languages by means of radical elements. The reverse case, the use of
prefixed elements to the complete exclusion of suffixes, is far less
common. A good example is Khmer (or Cambodgian), spoken in French
Cochin-China, though even here there are obscure traces of old suffixes
that have ceased to function as such and are now felt to form part of
the radical element.
A considerable majority of known languages are prefixing and suffixing
at one and the same time, but the relative importance of the two groups
of affixed elements naturally varies enormously. In some languages, such
as Latin and Russian, the suffixes alone relate the word to the rest of
the sentence, the prefixes being confined to the expression of such
ideas as delimit the concrete significance of the radical element
without influencing its bearing in the proposition. A Latin form like
_remittebantur_ "they were being sent back" may serve as an illustration
of this type of distribution of elements. The prefixed element _re-_
"back" merely qualifies to a certain extent the inherent significance of
the radical element _mitt-_ "send," while the suffixes _-eba-_, _-nt-_,
and _-ur_ convey the less concrete, more strictly formal, notions of
time, person, plurality, and passivity.
On the other hand, there are languages, like the Bantu group of Africa
or the Athabaskan languages[30] of North America, in which the
grammatically significant elements precede, those that follow the
radical element forming a relatively dispensable class. The Hupa word
_te-s-e-ya-te_ "I will go," for example, consists of a radical element
_-ya-_ "to go," three essential prefixes and a formally subsidiary
suffix. The element _te-_ indicates that the act takes place here and
there in space or continuously over space; practically, it has no
clear-cut significance apart from such verb stems as it is customary to
connect it with. The second prefixed element, _-s-_, is even less easy
to define. All we can say is that it is used in verb forms of "definite"
time and that it marks action as in progress rather than as beginning or
coming to an end. The third prefix, _-e-_, is a pronominal element, "I,"
which can be used only in "definite" tenses. It is highly important to
understand that the use of _-e-_ is conditional on that of _-s-_ or of
certain alternative prefixes and that _te-_ also is in practice linked
with _-s-_. The group _te-s-e-ya_ is a firmly knit grammatical unit. The
suffix _-te_, which indicates the future, is no more necessary to its
formal balance than is the prefixed _re-_ of the Latin word; it is not
an element that is capable of standing alone but its function is
materially delimiting rather than strictly formal.[31]
[Footnote 30: Including such languages as Navaho, Apache, Hupa, Carrier,
Chipewyan, Loucheux.]
[Footnote 31: This may seem surprising to an English reader. We
generally think of time as a function that is appropriately expressed in
a purely formal manner. This notion is due to the bias that Latin
grammar has given us. As a matter of fact the English future (_I shall
go_) is not expressed by affixing at all; moreover, it may be expressed
by the present, as in _to-morrow I leave this place_, where the temporal
function is inherent in the independent adverb. Though in lesser degree,
the Hupa _-te_ is as irrelevant to the vital word as is _to-morrow_ to
the grammatical "feel" of _I leave_.]
It is not always, however, that we can clearly set off the suffixes of a
language as a group against its prefixes. In probably the majority of
languages that use both types of affixes each group has both delimiting
and formal or relational functions. The most that we can say is that a
language tends to express similar functions in either the one or the
other manner. If a certain verb expresses a certain tense by suffixing,
the probability is strong that it expresses its other tenses in an
analogous fashion and that, indeed, all verbs have suffixed tense
elements. Similarly, we normally expect to find the pronominal elements,
so far as they are included in the verb at all, either consistently
prefixed or suffixed. But these rules are far from absolute. We have
already seen that Hebrew prefixes its pronominal elements in certain
cases, suffixes them in others. In Chimariko, an Indian language of
California, the position of the pronominal affixes depends on the verb;
they are prefixed for certain verbs, suffixed for others.
It will not be necessary to give many further examples of prefixing and
suffixing. One of each category will suffice to illustrate their
formative possibilities. The idea expressed in English by the sentence
_I came to give it to her_ is rendered in Chinook[32] by
_i-n-i-a-l-u-d-am_. This word--and it is a thoroughly unified word with
a clear-cut accent on the first _a_--consists of a radical element,
_-d-_ "to give," six functionally distinct, if phonetically frail,
prefixed elements, and a suffix. Of the prefixes, _i-_ indicates
recently past time; _n-_, the pronominal subject "I"; _-i-_, the
pronominal object "it";[33] _-a-_, the second pronominal object "her";
_-l-_, a prepositional element indicating that the preceding pronominal
prefix is to be understood as an indirect object (_-her-to-_, i.e., "to
her"); and _-u-_, an element that it is not easy to define
satisfactorily but which, on the whole, indicates movement away from the
speaker. The suffixed _-am_ modifies the verbal content in a local
sense; it adds to the notion conveyed by the radical element that of
"arriving" or "going (or coming) for that particular purpose." It is
obvious that in Chinook, as in Hupa, the greater part of the grammatical
machinery resides in the prefixes rather than in the suffixes.
[Footnote 32: Wishram dialect.]
[Footnote 33: Really "him," but Chinook, like Latin or French, possesses
grammatical gender. An object may be referred to as "he," "she," or
"it," according to the characteristic form of its noun.]
A reverse case, one in which the grammatically significant elements
cluster, as in Latin, at the end of the word is yielded by Fox, one of
the better known Algonkin languages of the Mississippi Valley. We may
take the form _eh-kiwi-n-a-m-oht-ati-wa-ch(i)_ "then they together kept
(him) in flight from them." The radical element here is _kiwi-_, a verb
stem indicating the general notion of "indefinite movement round about,
here and there." The prefixed element _eh-_ is hardly more than an
adverbial particle indicating temporal subordination; it may be
conveniently rendered as "then." Of the seven suffixes included in this
highly-wrought word, _-n-_ seems to be merely a phonetic element serving
to connect the verb stem with the following _-a-_;[34] _-a-_ is a
"secondary stem"[35] denoting the idea of "flight, to flee"; _-m-_
denotes causality with reference to an animate object;[36] _-o(ht)-_
indicates activity done for the subject (the so-called "middle" or
"medio-passive" voice of Greek); _-(a)ti-_ is a reciprocal element, "one
another"; _-wa-ch(i)_ is the third person animate plural (_-wa-_,
plural; _-chi_, more properly personal) of so-called "conjunctive"
forms. The word may be translated more literally (and yet only
approximately as to grammatical feeling) as "then they (animate) caused
some animate being to wander about in flight from one another of
themselves." Eskimo, Nootka, Yana, and other languages have similarly
complex arrays of suffixed elements, though the functions performed by
them and their principles of combination differ widely.
[Footnote 34: This analysis is doubtful. It is likely that _-n-_
possesses a function that still remains to be ascertained. The Algonkin
languages are unusually complex and present many unsolved problems of
detail.]
[Footnote 35: "Secondary stems" are elements which are suffixes from a
formal point of view, never appearing without the support of a true
radical element, but whose function is as concrete, to all intents and
purposes, as that of the radical element itself. Secondary verb stems of
this type are characteristic of the Algonkin languages and of Yana.]
[Footnote 36: In the Algonkin languages all persons and things are
conceived of as either animate or inanimate, just as in Latin or German
they are conceived of as masculine, feminine, or neuter.]
We have reserved the very curious type of affixation known as "infixing"
for separate illustration. It is utterly unknown in English, unless we
consider the _-n-_ of _stand_ (contrast _stood_) as an infixed element.
The earlier Indo-European languages, such as Latin, Greek and Sanskrit,
made a fairly considerable use of infixed nasals to differentiate the
present tense of a certain class of verbs from other forms (contrast
Latin _vinc-o_ "I conquer" with _vic-i_ "I conquered"; Greek _lamb-an-o_
"I take" with _e-lab-on_ "I took"). There are, however, more striking
examples of the process, examples in which it has assumed a more clearly
defined function than in these Latin and Greek cases. It is particularly
prevalent in many languages of southeastern Asia and of the Malay
archipelago. Good examples from Khmer (Cambodgian) are _tmeu_ "one who
walks" and _daneu_ "walking" (verbal noun), both derived from _deu_ "to
walk." Further examples may be quoted from Bontoc Igorot, a Filipino
language. Thus, an infixed _-in-_ conveys the idea of the product of an
accomplished action, e.g., _kayu_ "wood," _kinayu_ "gathered wood."
Infixes are also freely used in the Bontoc Igorot verb. Thus, an infixed
_-um-_ is characteristic of many intransitive verbs with personal
pronominal suffixes, e.g., _sad-_ "to wait," _sumid-ak_ "I wait";
_kineg_ "silent," _kuminek-ak_ "I am silent." In other verbs it
indicates futurity, e.g., _tengao-_ "to celebrate a holiday,"
_tumengao-ak_ "I shall have a holiday." The past tense is frequently
indicated by an infixed _-in-_; if there is already an infixed _-um-_,
the two elements combine to _-in-m-_, e.g., _kinminek-ak_ "I am silent."
Obviously the infixing process has in this (and related) languages the
same vitality that is possessed by the commoner prefixes and suffixes
of other languages. The process is also found in a number of aboriginal
American languages. The Yana plural is sometimes formed by an infixed
element, e.g., _k'uruwi_ "medicine-men," _k'uwi_ "medicine-man"; in
Chinook an infixed _-l-_ is used in certain verbs to indicate repeated
activity, e.g., _ksik'ludelk_ "she keeps looking at him," _iksik'lutk_
"she looked at him" (radical element _-tk_). A peculiarly interesting
type of infixation is found in the Siouan languages, in which certain
verbs insert the pronominal elements into the very body of the radical
element, e.g., Sioux _cheti_ "to build a fire," _chewati_ "I build a
fire"; _shuta_ "to miss," _shuunta-pi_ "we miss."
A subsidiary but by no means unimportant grammatical process is that of
internal vocalic or consonantal change. In some languages, as in English
(_sing_, _sang_, _sung_, _song_; _goose_, _geese_), the former of these
has become one of the major methods of indicating fundamental changes of
grammatical function. At any rate, the process is alive enough to lead
our children into untrodden ways. We all know of the growing youngster
who speaks of having _brung_ something, on the analogy of such forms as
_sung_ and _flung_. In Hebrew, as we have seen, vocalic change is of
even greater significance than in English. What is true of Hebrew is of
course true of all other Semitic languages. A few examples of so-called
"broken" plurals from Arabic[37] will supplement the Hebrew verb forms
that I have given in another connection. The noun _balad_ "place" has
the plural form _bilad_;[38] _gild_ "hide" forms the plural _gulud_;
_ragil_ "man," the plural _rigal_; _shibbak_ "window," the plural
_shababik_. Very similar phenomena are illustrated by the Hamitic
languages of Northern Africa, e.g., Shilh[39] _izbil_ "hair," plural
_izbel_; _a-slem_ "fish," plural _i-slim-en_; _sn_ "to know," _sen_ "to
be knowing"; _rmi_ "to become tired," _rumni_ "to be tired"; _ttss_[40]
"to fall asleep," _ttoss_ "to sleep." Strikingly similar to English and
Greek alternations of the type _sing_--_sang_ and _leip-o_ "I leave,"
_leloip-a_ "I have left," are such Somali[41] cases as _al_ "I am," _il_
"I was"; _i-dah-a_ "I say," _i-di_ "I said," _deh_ "say!"
[Footnote 37: Egyptian dialect.]
[Footnote 38: There are changes of accent and vocalic quantity in these
forms as well, but the requirements of simplicity force us to neglect
them.]
[Footnote 39: A Berber language of Morocco.]
[Footnote 40: Some of the Berber languages allow consonantal
combinations that seem unpronounceable to us.]
[Footnote 41: One of the Hamitic languages of eastern Africa.]
Vocalic change is of great significance also in a number of American
Indian languages. In the Athabaskan group many verbs change the quality
or quantity of the vowel of the radical element as it changes its tense
or mode. The Navaho verb for "I put (grain) into a receptacle" is
_bi-hi-sh-ja_, in which _-ja_ is the radical element; the past tense,
_bi-hi-ja'_, has a long _a_-vowel, followed by the "glottal stop"[42];
the future is _bi-h-de-sh-ji_ with complete change of vowel. In other
types of Navaho verbs the vocalic changes follow different lines, e.g.,
_yah-a-ni-ye_ "you carry (a pack) into (a stable)"; past, _yah-i-ni-yin_
(with long _i_ in _-yin_; _-n_ is here used to indicate nasalization);
future, _yah-a-di-yehl_ (with long _e_). In another Indian language,
Yokuts[43], vocalic modifications affect both noun and verb forms. Thus,
_buchong_ "son" forms the plural _bochang-i_ (contrast the objective
_buchong-a_); _enash_ "grandfather," the plural _inash-a_; the verb
_engtyim_ "to sleep" forms the continuative _ingetym-ad_ "to be
sleeping" and the past _ingetym-ash_.
[Footnote 42: See page 49.]
[Transcriber's note: Footnote 42 refers to the paragraph beginning on
line 1534.]
[Footnote 43: Spoken in the south-central part of California.]
Consonantal change as a functional process is probably far less common
than vocalic modifications, but it is not exactly rare. There is an
interesting group of cases in English, certain nouns and corresponding
verbs differing solely in that the final consonant is voiceless or
voiced. Examples are _wreath_ (with _th_ as in _think_), but _to
wreathe_ (with _th_ as in _then_); _house_, but _to house_ (with _s_
pronounced like _z_). That we have a distinct feeling for the
interchange as a means of distinguishing the noun from the verb is
indicated by the extension of the principle by many Americans to such a
noun as _rise_ (e.g., _the rise of democracy_)--pronounced like
_rice_--in contrast to the verb _to rise_ (_s_ like _z_).
In the Celtic languages the initial consonants undergo several types of
change according to the grammatical relation that subsists between the
word itself and the preceding word. Thus, in modern Irish, a word like
_bo_ "ox" may under the appropriate circumstances, take the forms _bho_
(pronounce _wo_) or _mo_ (e.g., _an bo_ "the ox," as a subject, but _tir
na mo_ "land of the oxen," as a possessive plural). In the verb the
principle has as one of its most striking consequences the "aspiration"
of initial consonants in the past tense. If a verb begins with _t_, say,
it changes the _t_ to _th_ (now pronounced _h_) in forms of the past; if
it begins with _g_, the consonant changes, in analogous forms, to _gh_
(pronounced like a voiced spirant[44] _g_ or like _y_, according to the
nature of the following vowel). In modern Irish the principle of
consonantal change, which began in the oldest period of the language as
a secondary consequence of certain phonetic conditions, has become one
of the primary grammatical processes of the language.
[Footnote 44: See page 50.]
[Transcriber's note: Footnote 44 refers to the paragraph beginning on
line 1534.]
Perhaps as remarkable as these Irish phenomena are the consonantal
interchanges of Ful, an African language of the Soudan. Here we find
that all nouns belonging to the personal class form the plural by
changing their initial _g_, _j_, _d_, _b_, _k_, _ch_, and _p_ to _y_ (or
_w_), _y_, _r_, _w_, _h_, _s_ and _f_ respectively; e.g., _jim-o_
"companion," _yim-'be_ "companions"; _pio-o_ "beater," _fio-'be_
"beaters." Curiously enough, nouns that belong to the class of things
form their singular and plural in exactly reverse fashion, e.g.,
_yola-re_ "grass-grown place," _jola-je_ "grass-grown places";
_fitan-du_ "soul," _pital-i_ "souls." In Nootka, to refer to but one
other language in which the process is found, the _t_ or _tl_[45] of
many verbal suffixes becomes _hl_ in forms denoting repetition, e.g.,
_hita-'ato_ "to fall out," _hita-'ahl_ "to keep falling out";
_mat-achisht-utl_ "to fly on to the water," _mat-achisht-ohl_ "to keep
flying on to the water." Further, the _hl_ of certain elements changes
to a peculiar _h_-sound in plural forms, e.g., _yak-ohl_ "sore-faced,"
_yak-oh_ "sore-faced (people)."
[Footnote 45: These orthographies are but makeshifts for simple sounds.]
Nothing is more natural than the prevalence of reduplication, in other
words, the repetition of all or part of the radical element. The process
is generally employed, with self-evident symbolism, to indicate such
concepts as distribution, plurality, repetition, customary activity,
increase of size, added intensity, continuance. Even in English it is
not unknown, though it is not generally accounted one of the typical
formative devices of our language. Such words as _goody-goody_ and _to
pooh-pooh_ have become accepted as part of our normal vocabulary, but
the method of duplication may on occasion be used more freely than is
indicated by such stereotyped examples. Such locutions as _a big big
man_ or _Let it cool till it's thick thick_ are far more common,
especially in the speech of women and children, than our linguistic
text-books would lead one to suppose. In a class by themselves are the
really enormous number of words, many of them sound-imitative or
contemptuous in psychological tone, that consist of duplications with
either change of the vowel or change of the initial consonant--words of
the type _sing-song_, _riff-raff_, _wishy-washy_, _harum-skarum_,
_roly-poly_. Words of this type are all but universal. Such examples as
the Russian _Chudo-Yudo_ (a dragon), the Chinese _ping-pang_ "rattling
of rain on the roof,"[46] the Tibetan _kyang-kyong_ "lazy," and the
Manchu _porpon parpan_ "blear-eyed" are curiously reminiscent, both in
form and in psychology, of words nearer home. But it can hardly be said
that the duplicative process is of a distinctively grammatical
significance in English. We must turn to other languages for
illustration. Such cases as Hottentot _go-go_ "to look at carefully"
(from _go_ "to see"), Somali _fen-fen_ "to gnaw at on all sides" (from
_fen_ "to gnaw at"), Chinook _iwi iwi_ "to look about carefully, to
examine" (from _iwi_ "to appear"), or Tsimshian _am'am_ "several (are)
good" (from _am_ "good") do not depart from the natural and fundamental
range of significance of the process. A more abstract function is
illustrated in Ewe,[47] in which both infinitives and verbal adjectives
are formed from verbs by duplication; e.g., _yi_ "to go," _yiyi_ "to go,
act of going"; _wo_ "to do," _wowo_[48] "done"; _mawomawo_ "not to do"
(with both duplicated verb stem and duplicated negative particle).
Causative duplications are characteristic of Hottentot, e.g.,
_gam-gam_[49] "to cause to tell" (from _gam_ "to tell"). Or the process
may be used to derive verbs from nouns, as in Hottentot _khoe-khoe_ "to
talk Hottentot" (from _khoe-b_ "man, Hottentot"), or as in Kwakiutl
_metmat_ "to eat clams" (radical element _met-_ "clam").
[Footnote 46: Whence our _ping-pong_.]
[Footnote 47: An African language of the Guinea Coast.]
[Footnote 48: In the verbal adjective the tone of the second syllable
differs from that of the first.]
[Footnote 49: Initial "click" (see page 55, note 15) omitted.]
[Transcriber's note: Footnote 49 refers to Footnote 24, beginning on
line 1729.]
The most characteristic examples of reduplication are such as repeat
only part of the radical element. It would be possible to demonstrate
the existence of a vast number of formal types of such partial
duplication, according to whether the process makes use of one or more
of the radical consonants, preserves or weakens or alters the radical
vowel, or affects the beginning, the middle, or the end of the radical
element. The functions are even more exuberantly developed than with
simple duplication, though the basic notion, at least in origin, is
nearly always one of repetition or continuance. Examples illustrating
this fundamental function can be quoted from all parts of the globe.
Initially reduplicating are, for instance, Shilh _ggen_ "to be sleeping"
(from _gen_ "to sleep"); Ful _pepeu-'do_ "liar" (i.e., "one who always
lies"), plural _fefeu-'be_ (from _fewa_ "to lie"); Bontoc Igorot _anak_
"child," _ananak_ "children"; _kamu-ek_ "I hasten," _kakamu-ek_ "I
hasten more"; Tsimshian _gyad_ "person," _gyigyad_ "people"; Nass
_gyibayuk_ "to fly," _gyigyibayuk_ "one who is flying." Psychologically
comparable, but with the reduplication at the end, are Somali _ur_
"body," plural _urar_; Hausa _suna_ "name," plural _sunana-ki;_
Washo[50] _gusu_ "buffalo," _gususu_ "buffaloes"; Takelma[51] _himi-d-_
"to talk to," _himim-d-_ "to be accustomed to talk to." Even more
commonly than simple duplication, this partial duplication of the
radical element has taken on in many languages functions that seem in no
way related to the idea of increase. The best known examples are
probably the initial reduplication of our older Indo-European languages,
which helps to form the perfect tense of many verbs (e.g., Sanskrit
_dadarsha_ "I have seen," Greek _leloipa_ "I have left," Latin _tetigi_
"I have touched," Gothic _lelot_ "I have let"). In Nootka reduplication
of the radical element is often employed in association with certain
suffixes; e.g., _hluch-_ "woman" forms _hluhluch-'ituhl_ "to dream of a
woman," _hluhluch-k'ok_ "resembling a woman." Psychologically similar to
the Greek and Latin examples are many Takelma cases of verbs that
exhibit two forms of the stem, one employed in the present or past, the
other in the future and in certain modes and verbal derivatives. The
former has final reduplication, which is absent in the latter; e.g.,
_al-yebeb-i'n_ "I show (or showed) to him," _al-yeb-in_ "I shall show
him."
[Footnote 50: An Indian language of Nevada.]
[Footnote 51: An Indian language of Oregon.]
We come now to the subtlest of all grammatical processes, variations in
accent, whether of stress or pitch. The chief difficulty in isolating
accent as a functional process is that it is so often combined with
alternations in vocalic quantity or quality or complicated by the
presence of affixed elements that its grammatical value appears as a
secondary rather than as a primary feature. In Greek, for instance, it
is characteristic of true verbal forms that they throw the accent back
as far as the general accentual rules will permit, while nouns may be
more freely accented. There is thus a striking accentual difference
between a verbal form like _eluthemen_ "we were released," accented on
the second syllable of the word, and its participial derivative
_lutheis_ "released," accented on the last. The presence of the
characteristic verbal elements _e-_ and _-men_ in the first case and of
the nominal _-s_ in the second tends to obscure the inherent value of
the accentual alternation. This value comes out very neatly in such
English doublets as _to refund_ and _a refund_, _to extract_ and _an
extract, to come down_ and _a come down_, _to lack luster_ and
_lack-luster eyes_, in which the difference between the verb and the
noun is entirely a matter of changing stress. In the Athabaskan
languages there are not infrequently significant alternations of accent,
as in Navaho _ta-di-gis_ "you wash yourself" (accented on the second
syllable), _ta-di-gis_ "he washes himself" (accented on the first).[52]
[Footnote 52: It is not unlikely, however, that these Athabaskan
alternations are primarily tonal in character.]
Pitch accent may be as functional as stress and is perhaps more often
so. The mere fact, however, that pitch variations are phonetically
essential to the language, as in Chinese (e.g., _feng_ "wind" with a
level tone, _feng_ "to serve" with a falling tone) or as in classical
Greek (e.g., _lab-on_ "having taken" with a simple or high tone on the
suffixed participial _-on_, _gunaik-on_ "of women" with a compound or
falling tone on the case suffix _-on_) does not necessarily constitute a
functional, or perhaps we had better say grammatical, use of pitch. In
such cases the pitch is merely inherent in the radical element or affix,
as any vowel or consonant might be. It is different with such Chinese
alternations as _chung_ (level) "middle" and _chung_ (falling) "to hit
the middle"; _mai_ (rising) "to buy" and _mai_ (falling) "to sell";
_pei_ (falling) "back" and _pei_ (level) "to carry on the back."
Examples of this type are not exactly common in Chinese and the language
cannot be said to possess at present a definite feeling for tonal
differences as symbolic of the distinction between noun and verb.
There are languages, however, in which such differences are of the most
fundamental grammatical importance. They are particularly common in the
Soudan. In Ewe, for instance, there are formed from _subo_ "to serve"
two reduplicated forms, an infinitive _subosubo_ "to serve," with a low
tone on the first two syllables and a high one on the last two, and an
adjectival _subosubo_ "serving," in which all the syllables have a high
tone. Even more striking are cases furnished by Shilluk, one of the
languages of the headwaters of the Nile. The plural of the noun often
differs in tone from the singular, e.g., _yit_ (high) "ear" but _yit_
(low) "ears." In the pronoun three forms may be distinguished by tone
alone; _e_ "he" has a high tone and is subjective, _-e_ "him" (e.g., _a
chwol-e_ "he called him") has a low tone and is objective, _-e_ "his"
(e.g., _wod-e_ "his house") has a middle tone and is possessive. From
the verbal element _gwed-_ "to write" are formed _gwed-o_ "(he) writes"
with a low tone, the passive _gwet_ "(it was) written" with a falling
tone, the imperative _gwet_ "write!" with a rising tone, and the verbal
noun _gwet_ "writing" with a middle tone. In aboriginal America also
pitch accent is known to occur as a grammatical process. A good example
of such a pitch language is Tlingit, spoken by the Indians of the
southern coast of Alaska. In this language many verbs vary the tone of
the radical element according to tense; _hun_ "to sell," _sin_ "to
hide," _tin_ "to see," and numerous other radical elements, if
low-toned, refer to past time, if high-toned, to the future. Another
type of function is illustrated by the Takelma forms _hel_ "song," with
falling pitch, but _hel_ "sing!" with a rising inflection; parallel to
these forms are _sel_ (falling) "black paint," _sel_ (rising) "paint
it!" All in all it is clear that pitch accent, like stress and vocalic
or consonantal modifications, is far less infrequently employed as a
grammatical process than our own habits of speech would prepare us to
believe probable.
V