Chapter II: The Formation of Words
_The Blending of the Elements._
The haphazard and nondescript way in which all modern civilized languages grow produces some curious philological phenomena. We have spoken of many of the doublets, especially the French-Latin ones, the Old English-Scandinavian ones, and two Persian examples. Again, from the Persian word for turban, _dulband_, have come both _turban_ and _tulip_, the flower named for its shape. _Deck_ and _thatch_ are the same Teutonic root coming through O. E. and Dutch respectively. The Persian _shah_, ruler, has come recently in this form, and in earlier days in the verb _check_. The Greek _pandoura_, through Italian and French, gives _mandolin_; through Italian, with Negro modifications, _banjo_.
Fighting against this tendency is a simplification, by which different foreign words assume the same form in English. Thus five distinct Latin words have entered English with the one form _bay_, and mean (1) the color of a horse (Lat. _badius_); (2) a kind of laurel (Lat. _baca_, a berry); (3) an inlet of the sea (Lat. _baia_); (4) a form of window (Lat. _badere_); (5) a bark of a dog (Lat. _baubari_). _Gin_, a drink, is from Lat. _juniperus_, whence also _juniper_; in cotton _gin_, it is from Lat. _ingenium_. The differing meanings of _curry_, _yet_, _hue_, _lay_, _dam_, _main_, _swallow_, and many others, come from different word-roots.
Words from classical sources are selected for various reasons. Some are to render scientific nomenclature more specific; some, to soften tabooed subjects (compare _viscera_, _guts_; _perspire_, _sweat_; _abdomen_, _belly_). Others survive through the surge and thunder of their word-music: the lines
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red
indicate the superiority in mere verbal tone of the classic over the native idiom. There is less excuse for the attempt to substitute classical _vertigo_ for _dizziness_, _coryza_ for _cold_, or _urticaria_ for _hives_. This appears at its worst in the Bostonian reply, to “Have you eaten enough?” “Gastronomic satiety admonishes me that I have arrived at a state of deglutition consistent with dietetic satiety.” In American, this would be, “I have eaten enough.”
The place of native words in the language is a secure one. One-fourth of the whole task of expression in English is shouldered by nine native words:
and
be
have
it
of
the
to
will
you
These nine with thirty-four other native words form half of the words actually used in English speech:
about
all
as
at
but
can
come
day
dear
for
get
go
hear
her
if
in
me
much
not
on
one
say
she
so
that
these
they
this
though
time
we
with
write
your
Furthermore, in pairs of synonyms, one native, one classical in origin, the greater directness in the native words is striking. Compare _fire_, _conflagration_; _bloody_, _sanguinary_; _stiff_, _rigid_; _fat_, _corpulent_; _sweat_, _perspire_. On one occasion Samuel Johnson, the great Latinist, lapsed into native English: “It has not wit enough to keep it sweet.” After a moment’s reflection, he weakened this with the classical gloss, “It has not vitality enough to preserve it from putrefaction.” There are imported words, however, which enter into the very warp and woof of the language: for instance, _easy_, _large_, _sure_, _bet_, _boot_, _quiet_, _brace_, _peace_, _city_, _soldier_, _hour_, _move_, _turn_, _table_, _place_, _very_, _save_, _single_, _clear_, _plain_. In some cases the foreign word has supplanted the native in general use; compare _beautiful_, _fair_; _prosperity_, _speed_; _valley_, _dale_; _divide_, _cleave_; _forest_, _wold_; _fort_, _fastness_; _tremble_, _quake_; _joyous_, _blithe_; _mercury_, _quicksilver_; _mirror_, _looking-glass_.
A class at Columbia was recently asked to select the 50 words of most basic importance in the expression of human life. From two lists prepared 78 words were finally selected; of these, 39 were French, and 35 Anglo-Saxon. A public-speaking club selected the 21 most beautiful words in English: of these 3 were Anglo-Saxon, 1 Scandinavian, 3 Latin, and 14 French.
Many modern words are blended of two or more languages. Classic prefixes are suffixes with native roots are found in _co-worker_, _pro-German_, _re-birth_, _ante-room_, _superman_, _breakage_, _laughable_, _righteous_, _wreckage_. Native prefixes and suffixes are blended with classic roots to form _unruly_, _besiege_, _bashful_, _misplace_, _outcry_, _overcharge_, _outline_, _by-product_, _finest_, _forceful_, _napkin_, _beautiful_, _painting_, _statecraft_, _uncivil_, _overturn_, _understudy_, _relentless_. Hybrids formed of native and classic roots are found in _window-pane_, _table-cloth_, _faint-hearted_, _simple-minded_, _Saturday_, _birthplace_, _candlestick_, _staircase_, _grandstand_, _cocktail_, _fireplace_, _outrage_.
One remarkable word has recently been unearthed, a hybrid made of elements from five different languages. The word is _remacadamizing_, which may be analyzed into _re_ (Latin), _mac_ (Celtic), _adam_ (Hebrew), _ize_ (Greek) and _ing_ (native English.) It is a good vigorous word too, despite its mottled ancestry.
_Word Creation._
One of the forms of words known to all languages staggers under the Greek term onomatopoetic, recently rechristened echoic—a word expressing a sound in Nature. The _hiss_ of steam, the _clang_ of a bell, the _crash_ of falling timbers,—these words are echoic. Words like _papa_, _mama_, _baby_, probably of this type, are found in practically all languages. _Bomb_, _murmur_, _cuckoo_, go back through French to Latin, and to an antiquity hard to determine. Among echoic words originating independently in English are: _buzz_, _fizz_, _purr_, _quack_, _hiss_, _boom_, _gibber_, _jabber_, _giggle_, _titter_, _whirr_, _ding-dong_, _hee-haw_, _hoot_, _chatter_. The theory that this is responsible for all words has long been abandoned; yet there is a uniform overtone in a group of words like _bosh_, _slosh_, _squash_, _plush_, _hush_, _mush_, _flush_, _blush_; a related quality in _crash_, _splash_, _smash_, _hash_, _trash_, _clash_, _dash_, _rash_. Certain verbal sounds get associated with certain emotions; and out of the casual word creations, commencing as slang, come such words as the following list of recent additions to the first volume of the Oxford dictionary, all from the _b’s_: _bamboozle_, _bang_, _bilk_, _blab_, _blabber_, _blare_, _blear_, _blight_, _blob_, _blizzard_, _blot_, _blotch_, _blubber_, _bluff_, _blunder_, _blunt_, _blur_, _blurt_, _bluster_, _bogus_, _boom_, _bore_, _bosh_, _bother_, _brash_, _brunt_, _bub_, _bump_, _bum_, _bunch_, _bungle_, _burr_, _bustle_, _buzz_. Nonsense verse contributes here; but artificial word additions, such as Gelett Burgess’ _fuddy_ for untidy, _bimped_ for jilted, _snosh_ for vain talk, _cofle_ for “to try to find out a person’s name without asking,” may have a harder time horning into the language. The verb _to horn in_, a fine figurative phrase from the cattle country, is still ranked as slang; but it is beginning to receive academic approval.
Sometimes such word-formations are meant humorously, sometimes seriously. Thus from chimpanzee came _humanzee_, to describe one especial animal. _Travelogue_, from travel and dialogue, has more serious intention. Light recent creations are _swellegant_, _yellocution_, _versiflage_, _alcoholiday_, _flumonia_. The origin of these is obvious; but many accepted words in the language have roots as yet undiscovered, and may have come similarly. _Dog_ came in before the Conquest, without known ancestry; the Teutonic name appears in _hound_, while the Latin _canis_ furnishes _canine_. _Girl_, _boy_, _lad_, _lass_, _big_, _bad_, _pig_, _cut_, entered before Chaucer; _bet_, _jump_, _dodge_, before 1600; _pun_, in the 17th century; _fun_, _bore_, _slang_, _fudge_, in the 18th; _rollicking_, _loaf_ (verb) in the 19th; the modern _stunt_ and _hooch_ are similar.
Another source of increase to the speech is the doublets, already mentioned. Other examples are _of_, _off_; _through_, _thorough_; _porridge_, _pottage_; _shade_, _shed_, _shadow_; _strap_, _strop_; _courtesy_, _curtsey_; _fantasy_, _fancy_; _corpse_, _corps_; _posy_, _poesy_.
The most prolific source has been the combination of two or more elements into one word. Almost back to the forgotten beginnings of our speech go such words as _barn_ (O. E. _bere-aern_, barley-place); _lord_ (_hlaf-weard_, bread-keeper); _gossip_ (_god-sibbe_, good kinsman); _hussy_ (_house-wife_); _gospel_ (_god-spell_, good narrative); _world_ (_wer-eld_, man age); _sheriff_ (_scir-gerefa_, shire reeve); _daisy_ (_daeges-eage_, day’s eye). The Elizabethan age was rich in compounds, such as _freshman_, _huntsman_, _bookseller_, _keyhole_, _bookworm_, _potluck_, and _horseplay_. Shakespeare offered _honey-heave_, _pity-pleading_, _wind-changing_, _carry-tale_, and others, which have not found permanent lodgings in the language. Others which have endured are _rawboned_, _crestfallen_, _untutored_, _high-born_, _red-hot_, _blood-stained_, _mouth-filling_, _heart-ache_, _hairbreadth_, _break neck_, _even-handed_, _moss-grown_. Among those which did not survive are _hotspur_, _aleknight_, _maltworm_, _hangby_, _crackhemp_, _findfault_ (but compare _fault-finder_), _makepiece_, _tearsheet_, _ticklebrain_, _tosspot_, _wantwit_. A great stock of terms of contempt have survived, such as _killjoy_, _scarecrow_, _pickpocket_, _daredevil_, _spitfire_, _hangdog_, _lickspittle_, _makeshift_, _skinflint_, _slipshod_, _turncoat_, _telltale_. Modern equivalents are _speak-easy_, _bootlegger_, and juvenile _tattletale_ and _copycat_. _Smut-hound_, _dope-fiend_, and other modern mixtures have not yet acquired lasting dignity.
The English settlers in America used this method in naming many natural objects: compare _bullfrog_, _canvas-back_, _lightning-bug_, _mud-hen_, _cat-bird_, _razor-back_, _garter-snake_, _groundhog_, _live-oak_, _turkey-gobbler_, _pokeweed_, _copperhead_, _eelgrass_, _reedbird_, _eggplant_, _peanut_, _bluegrass_, _Junebug_. Recent American blends include _pussyfoot_, _skyscraper_, _bell-hop_, _hayseed_, _shin-plaster_, _bucket-shop_, _lounge-lizard_, _rum-hound_, and many other _-lizard_ and _-hound_ blends.
Prefixes and suffixes are taken from all speeches. Native prefixes include _mis-_, _un-_, _after-_, _be-_, _for-_, _man-_; suffixes, _-ness_, _-less_, _-ly_, _-ish_, _-er_, _-y_, _-head_, _-hood_. With these may be used the Latin _pro-_, _post-_, _inter-_, _ante-_, _pre-_, _co-_, _sub-_, _super-_, _-ation_, _-ative_; French _dis-_, _en-_, _-age_, _-al_, _-ment_, _-able_, _-ous_, _-ose_, _-ese_, _-gy_, _-ate_, _-ard_, _-esque_, _-ade_, many of these borrowed by the French; Greek _a-_ (without), _hyper-_, _nec-_, _pseudo-_, _arche-_, _-ize_, _-ist_, _-ism_, _-ite_, _-itis_; Scandinavian _-ling_, and others listed; Flemish _-kin_. Hundreds of compounds made from these have failed to survive; this is especially true of those made with native prefixes and suffixes. _Wanton_ is the only word preserving the prefix _wan-_, once common in such combinations as _wanthrift_, extravagance; _wanhap_, misfortune; _wanlust_, languor; _wanwit_, folly; _wantrust_, lack of confidence; _wantruth_, falsehood; _wanchance_, ill-luck. _Blameful_, _crimeful_, _dareful_, _deathful_, _ruthful_, all from Shakespeare, are only a few of the _-ful_ compounds that have died; _aidless_, _bragless_, _heirless_, _effectless_, also from Shakespeare, are four out of many more that have gone. _Gainsay_ alone lives out of _gainscope_, _gainstand_, _gainstrive_, etc.; _laughing-stock_ is the one relict of _gazing-stock_, _jesting-stock_, _mocking-stock_, etc. Five only of the _-worthy_ adjectives (_blameworthy_, etc.) remain. Most of the _-th_ nouns are gone: while keeping _warmth_, _health_, _growth_, _wealth_, and _height_ (often pronounced _heighth_ still) we have surrendered _lowth_, _greenth_, _coolth_, _illth_, _spilth_, etc. More of the classic prefixes and suffixes have taken root; there are five hundred words listed in the Oxford dictionary beginning with the Greek _anti-_. Only two _tele-_ words were in Samuel Johnson’s dictionary; there are 130 in the present Oxford one. The Century Dictionary supplement contains 168 words beginning with _auto-_. The process is a living one: thus _book-fiend_, _dope-fiend_, _chess-fiend_, _bomb-proof_, _fool-proof_, _near-beer_, _near-great_, _near-champion_, are all recent inventions.
The shortening process gave, long ago, such words as _van_ (from vanguard), _van_ (caravan), _patter_ (pater noster), _canter_ (Canterbury gallop), _wig_ (periwig), _cheat_ (escheat), _wag_ (waghalter), _spend_ (dispend), _rum_ (rumbullion), _cab_ (cabriolet), _still_ (distillery); the dandified speech of Queen Anne’s day gave _mob_ (mobile vulgus), _blues_ (blue devils), etc. From other sources came recently _chum_ (chamber fellow), _photo_ (photograph), _cycle_ and _bike_ (bicycle), _gas_ (gasoline), _pants_ (pantaloons), and countless others.
_Folk-Etymology._
The World War saw folk etymology at work among us, in fascinating ways. Thus _Mouquet Farm_ was promptly re-christened _Moo Cow Farm_. The conversion of the warship _Bellerophon_ into _Bully Ruffian_ has long afforded amusement; similar naval perversions are _Ariadne_ into _Harry Annie_, _Hecate_ into _He Cat_. Mistaken folk analogies are responsible for the conversion of the singular _pease_ (compare _peascod_) into a _pea_, and for _edit_, _rove_, _hawk_ (verb), _beg_, _asset_, _vamp_, _burgle_, _launder_ (verb), _jell_, _henpeck_, and _sunburn_ (both verbs).
Often it is an attempt to convert unfamiliar words into familiar, by altering the original spelling. Thus Milton’s _sovran_, by the influence of _reign_, became _sovereign_; _cold-slaw_ came, not from _cold_, but from Dutch _kool_, cabbage. _Blunderbuss_, also of Dutch origin, came from _donderbuss_; _isinglass_, influenced by English _glass_, goes back to Dutch _huysenblas_, sturgeon-bladder. _Country-dance_ was once _contre-dance_ (from _contre_, opposite). _Pick-ax_ came, not from _ax_, but from Fr. _piquois_. Barberry began as Lat. _berberis_, not kin to _berry_; _gilly-flower_ from Fr. _girofle_, ultimately to Gr. _karuophullon_, nutleaf. Three words have been pulled toward the flower _rose_: _primrose_ (Fr. _primerole_, Lat. _primula de ver_, first flower of spring); _tuberose_ (Lat. _tuberosa_, tuberous); _rosemary_, (Lat. _ros marinus_, sea-dew). Similarly _mushroom_ has nothing to do with _room_, but comes from O. Fr. _mouscheron_, from _mousse_, moss.
Animal names show the same trait. _Mongoose_ is from native _mangus_, not kin to goose; _muskrat_ is from Algonquin _muskwessu_. _Titmouse_ has no more relation to _mouse_, but its second syllable derives from M. E. _mose_, O. E. _mase_, a name for several kinds of birds. _Cray-fish_ and _crawfish_ came into English as _crevice_ from the same word in O. Fr.; the first syllable is kin to _crab_, the second has no original connection with _fish_. Often popular misreading adds an unnecessary second element to the word. The O. E. _bran_ and Norse _hreinn_, reindeer, by analogy to the _rein_ of a harness became reindeer, or literally deer-deer. The _grey_ in _greyhound_ is the name for a dog; by analogy to the color, we have the present form, which is literally dog-dog. _Cot_, from Hindustani _knat_, bedstead, is joined often into _cot-bed_, literally bed-bed. _Cellar_ in _saltcellar_ meant salt-receptacle (Lat. _salarius_, salt-receptacle; the modern word is literally salt-salt-receptacle). _Turtle_, in _turtle-dove_, meant dove; our compound is literally dove-dove. O. E. _samblind_, half-blind (from Lat. _semi-_, half) gave rise to _sand-blind_, and in Shakespeare to the facetious _stoneblind_ and _high-gravel-blind_. _Corporal_ gets its spelling from a popular error; properly from Lat. _caporalis_, from _caput_, head, it was connected with _corps_, from Lat. _corpus_, and so grew to its present form.
At times it has been the mistaken zeal of scholars that has led the word astray. Thus _island_ (M. E. _iland_, water-land) was spelled island in the attempt to connect it with _isle_, from Lat. _insula_, island; _rhyme_ (E. _rime_) was spelled to connect it with _rhythm_. The ending _-gue_, proper in French terms like _vague_, _vogue_, _catalogue_, was applied erroneously to _tongue_ and _rogue_ (M. E. _tonge_ and 16th Cent. _roge_); although it has not survived in _dogue_ and _kingue_. The initial _wh-_ in _who_ and _whom_ is responsible for _whole_ (O. E. _hal_) and _whore_ (M. E. _hore_). Thus _donkey_ is modelled from the color _dun_ after _monkey_, _parsnip_ after _turnip_, etc.
_Some Figures of Syntax._
At times modern word usage comes from the effect of some highly imaginative process, poetic in its origin. Thus the meaning of a word is often shifted subtly. The Lat. _horridus_ means rough, bristly, shaggy; _hispidus_ was almost a synonym. The English _horrid_ and _hideous_ have shifted to mean that which has the psychological effect of making a person rough and bristly, causing what is called goose-flesh, or making the hair stand on end. _Superb_, from Lat. _superbus_, proud (compare Tarquinius _Superbus_) means that worthy of pride. The adjectives in _sweet expression_ and _grim determination_ have shifted from the active subject to the effect on the passive object. A _deep_ thinker, a _solid_ reasoner, a _fluent_ speaker have brought the result of the activity back as a modifier of the activity; meaning literally one who thinks deep things, one who reasons solid things, one who speaks flowing speech.
Man thought first in concrete things: when it became necessary to coin words for vaguer abstractions, he used some familiar concrete term. Thus most words expressing divisions of time have roots expressing physical facts at the bottom: _minute_ (Lat. _minutus_, small); _second_ (Med. Lat. _secunda minuta_, second minute, or a smaller subdivision); _week_ (underlying meaning probably _change_); _month_ (moon); _year_ (underlying meaning probably _spring_); _season_ (Lat. _satio_, sowing); _period_ (Gr. _periodos_, a circle). The same thing is true of psychical terms in general. _Intellect_ is from Lat. _inter-legere_, to choose between; _perceive_ and _comprehend_ mean literally to seize, to grasp. The process is more obvious in using _mental grasp_ and the slang _to catch on_. _Ruminate_ refers to the cud-chewing of cows; _brood_, to meditate, goes back to _sit_ on eggs; _cogitate_ means originally to mix together; _ponder_, Lat. _pondere_, to weight; _deliberate_ (Lat. _libra_, scales); _reflect_ (Lat. _reflectere_, to bend back); _calculate_ (Lat. _calculus_, pebble, from _calx_, lime); _investigate_ (Lat. _vestigium_, foot-print) illustrate this further.
Moral conceptions illustrate the same process. _Right_ and _wrong_ meant in their origins straight and crooked (compare _right_ angle, _right_ away, and the verb _wring_, to twist). The colloquial _straight_ and _crooked_ hark back to the earlier idea, with new moral application. The fundamental meaning of _good_ is suitable; that of _evil_, excessive. _Moral_ and _ethical_ both go back to words meaning custom, or manners. _True_, in its original meaning, is related to the oak tree. _Integrity_ means untouched (Lat. _in_, not, and _tangere_, to touch). _Holy_ comes from O. E. _halig_, from _hal_, whole. _Wicked_ was M. E. _wikke_, feeble, connected with _weak_. _Virtue_, from Lat. _vir_, man, meant manly physical strength. _Character_ is from the similar Greek word meaning a tool for stamping or marking.
As physical facts alter, words are put to queer uses. Thus a university course ends with a _commencement_; a steamer _sails_; an airplane _lands_ on the sea; a ship is _manned_ with women. We have weekly _journals_ (literally, weekly dailies, from Lat. _diurnalis_, daily). _Black_-berries are red when they are green. A _manuscript_ (literally, hand-written) may be typewritten. Words come to the place where they mean the same as their negatives: as _passive_ and _impassive_, _ravel_ and _unravel_, _valuable_ and _invaluable_.
Language, Emerson said, is fossil poetry. Words, says Santayana, are the tombs of ideas. These mental pictures, traced back to their origins, may be of astonishing vividness. _Seminary_ meant originally seed-plot; _stimulate_ is literally to goad on—though even _goad_ has now lost its physical vigor. _Sop_, used now of a drunkard, meant in O. E. bread, then used for dipping into liquids. _Cloak_ meant originally bell (Late Lat. _cloca_, bell, and huntsman’s cloak through similarity of shape). _Daisy_ meant literally eye of day; _aster_, a star (Gr. _aster_, star; whence _astronomy_). _Tansy_ comes from Gr. _athanasia_, deathlessness, immortality, a thought once applied to the plant; _pansy_ derives from Fr. _pensee_, thought or remembrance. _Geranium_ meant originally crane’s bill, from the shape of the seed; _tulip_ goes back to the Persian word seen more clearly in _turban_, shape again determining the application to the flower. Sentimental associations in English appear clearly in _lady-slipper_, _bleeding-heart_, _maiden-hair_, _heartsease_. Some of these derivations are humorous in intent; as an artist’s _easel_ (Ger. _Esel_, a donkey, because the easel bears burdens); _cab_ from _cabriolet_, a little she-goat.
_Figures of Nearness._
Many words grow from other words connected, closely or loosely, with the idea they represent. Thus, by a process of de-personization, we speak of a hunter as a _nimrod_, a teacher as a _mentor_, a wise man as a _Nestor_, a legislator as a _solon_, after definite individuals. _Tongue_ acquires the wider meaning of language, as in “the English tongue.” _Language_ itself is from Lat. _lingua_, tongue. _Copper_ and _nickel_ stand for small coins of those metals; _bloodshed_ for destruction of life; _reds_, anarchists; the _bench_, the judges; the _pulpit_, the clergy; _cockcrow_, dawn. We say _the kettle boils_ when we mean the water boils; we use _youth_ for young people, _salt_ and _deep_ for ocean, and an author’s name for his works, as “I read _Shakespeare_.”
At times the shift is more disguised. Thus _front_ is a long way from Lat. _frons_, the forehead. _Book_ comes from O. E. _boc_, the beech-tree, the name of the material out of which books were first made. Similarly _code_ is from Lat. _codex_, earlier _caudex_, tree-trunk; _Bible_ from Gr. _biblion_, diminutive of _biblos_, inner bark of the papyrus; _library_ from Lat. _liber_, book, originally bark of the tree. In a different way _volume_ comes from Lat. _volumen_, roll, the form in which Roman records were kept. In the case of _deer_, the class name O. E. _deor_, wild beast, has come to apply to a special kind of beasts. The same is true of hound, originally the word for all dogs. In the case of _rabbit_, _bird_, and _pig_ the word originally meaning the young of a species stands today for the whole species. This is being repeated today in the word _chicken_. There is no limit to the eccentricity of word creation.
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An introduction to philologyChapter II: The Formation of Words
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