Part 17

The English language is a raft living upon the ocean. You can hear the waters rushing through it and on to the shore and back again. You can feel the waves rising up to gigantic heights, and then falling to and below the level of the sea. You can feel the undertow in its reserve force, quiet and subdued like the lull before the storm, yet capable of almost any demonstration. You can feel all this in the strength and vigor of its diction as expressed in its prose and poetry. This is not a mere poetical conception, but a truth capable of actual, practical demonstration.

While reading poetry or prose, or while singing, fancy seeing in your mind's eye the ocean with its waters in commotion, either the open sea or the surf near the shore, and you will feel every word you utter mingle with its waves. These pictures will never disturb your fancy, but will associate with it in perfect harmony. Now substitute for the picture of the ocean and its tumult some rural picture, as of a field of grain or the branches of trees tossed by the wind, or the flow of a river, or even that of the sea itself when perfectly calm. Keep such picture before you exactly as you did that of the sea in commotion. While reading, speaking, or singing English you will not be able to hold such picture; it will soon disturb you, and to such an extent that you must cease thinking of it, or be obliged to stop your reading, singing, etc.

The impression made by the ocean, in fact, is so great that it dominates the thought and the entire being of English-speaking people. This is the case to such an extent that if you continue to persistently think of any other image than the ocean, even without uttering any sound whatever, it will so greatly perturb you that you will be unable to continue thinking at all. You may, on the other hand, continue to think for an indefinite period of the image of the ocean without experiencing any disturbance whatever.

While the basic element of the English language is closely affiliated with the ocean, that of the German language is affiliated with the woods, and the blowing of the winds. In their habitation in the forest, the wind made so deep an impression on the primeval inhabitants of Germany that you can feel its soughing pervade all German diction.

If you are a German keep the picture of the woods before you and the soughing of the wind through the tree-tops, and it will harmonize with German thought and diction. Substitute a picture of the ocean for it, or almost any other picture, and you will not be able to vocally utter German thought, nor will you be able to continue thinking in the German language at all.

In place of conjuring up these pictures in your mind's eye you can substitute real pictures representing these scenes, and while contemplating them the effect will be the same.

After pursuing the picture of the ocean for a while, say: "English;" after pursuing that of the woods, say: "Deutsch;" either will come quite naturally, but you cannot reverse them. If you attempt it, these words will not be forthcoming.

While with English diction there is a pause and then an emphasis as of the waves coming on and then breaking against the shore, so, with German diction, there is an emphasis and then a pause, as of the blowing of the wind succeeded by a calm. These, in a word, are the characteristic elements in the idiomatic expressions of these peoples; English idiomatic expression being low succeeded by loud; German, loud succeeded by low.

The influence of the ocean with its continuous uproar formulated the speech and character of the English nation into one of strength and reality, with its centre of gravity in the abdomen. The peaceful influence of their habitation in the woods, together with the impression made by the wind, the singing of birds, etc., formulated the speech and character of the German nation into one more of ideality, with its centre of gravity in the thorax.

The fondness of the English for the sea, their supremacy thereon, etc., need not be amplified upon:

"Wherever billows foam The Briton fights at home, His hearth is built of water."

The fondness of the Germans for the woods is equally noted: Der "dunkle," "zauberische," "geheimnissvolle," "heilige"--Wald (The "darkly deep," "magical," "mysterious," and "sacred" woods) are but common expressions.

There is not a word in the English language of the same significance as that of "Der Wald." It embraces many ideas, of which the words "the woods" and "the forest" are not expressive. These, in a literal translation, find expression in the words "Das Gehoelz" and "Der Forst," which are of a more realistic nature.

The English language, on the other hand, is full of expressions applying to nautical matters and to the sea, for which there are no adequate expressions in the German language.

The fondness of the present Emperor of Germany for the sea must be attributed to the English blood flowing in his veins. While it is his desire to create a powerful navy, the people of Germany are indifferent to, and obstruct rather than assist, the accomplishment of this desire.

Idiomatic expression, the soul of language, has its incipiency in the soul of a people, and may pervade it for centuries before the body of the language, the words in which its thoughts are clad, makes its appearance. It must have taken many centuries more before these words grouped themselves into sentences and assumed the shape of speech. The words may change, but the idiomatic expression will always remain the same.

So, also, must the soul of man have had existence for an indefinite period of time before a body was formulated to clothe it in. The spiritual cell, if I may be permitted to use such an expression, must have existed before the material; or, in other words, the spiritual cell must have made its appearance long before the material cell commenced to make its appearance.

RELATIONSHIP SUPPOSED TO EXIST AS BETWEEN THE GERMAN AND ENGLISH NATIONS

It is a common saying that there is a close relationship existing between the German and English nations. There is no greater fallacy than this. I contend that this relationship is of a very distant order, consisting, as it does, merely in words, or, as I have said, garments loosely flung around the sturdy, strong, and unalterable stem of English idiomatic expression. In every other respect there is a great dissimilarity and antagonism even, existing between these two peoples. If there is any analogy existing between them at all, it is one of opposition; one that is based on the idea that extremes meet (les extrêmes se touchent), their poles being diametrically opposed to each other.

There is no more relationship existing between (Anglo-Saxon) German and English than there is between (Norman) French and English; the German, French, and English languages each possessing their own especial and unalterable idiomatic expressions. Whatever foreign words either of them adopt must be subjected to their idiom, or keep floating along as best they may in their original character.

The entire aspect of these three nations, the French, English, and German, points to the fact that there must be a radical difference in their vital mode of existence. Just what this vital mode consists in, in respect to the two latter nations, I expect to still further establish in a future publication. Both languages traverse nearly the entire range of the vital organs in opposite directions. Hence the strength and also the weaknesses of these languages, as compared with other languages which, extending from side to side, have a smaller compass but a comparatively purer range of sounds. Regarding other nations and their languages, I trust others, thoroughly familiar with the same, by applying to their investigations similar principles, will establish similar facts.

Owing to its centrifugal tendency, it is necessary for English vocal utterance to open the mouth much wider than it is for German. Let a German open his mouth no farther for the enunciation of English than he is in the habit of opening it while speaking his own language, and he will not be able to utter a single sound. The same result will obtain when an Anglo-Saxon attempts to speak German on the same basis that he is in the habit of speaking his own language. Owing to the centripetal tendency of the German language, the mouth in speaking German is but slightly extended. That this respective widening and narrowing of, not only the mouth but of every other channel employed in bringing about vocal utterance, must tend to exercise a marked influence on Anglo-Saxon and German features will be obvious. The consequence is that the mouth of English-speaking persons in thus being extended has a broad yet narrow appearance, with rather thin and compressed lips, while the mouth of Germans in thus being contracted is comparatively smaller, with full and ripe lips. This feature is in conformity with all other features which, with Anglo-Saxons, are elongated, with Germans contracted.

Experiments regarding centrifugal and centripetal action can be made to good advantage by resting your head sideways on a pillow. In this position during vocal utterance you can feel these actions, and, feeling them, "measure" them. This mode of proceeding can be successfully adopted in many other experiments connected with these studies. I must warn the reader, however, again and again, that all this has reference only to languages spoken idiomatically correct. It has no reference whatever to foreign languages spoken in the usual mechanical manner.

LANGUAGE AND MOTION

I will now show that motion is the first impulse and primary condition of speech. I will give but a few examples at present, but expect to prove most exhaustively later on that motion must precede, or apparently at least, accompany vocal sounds always.

While standing up, straight, throw out your arms horizontally, then speak English. You will have no difficulty, but you will not be able to speak German so easily. Next, stand as before, and again throw out your arms horizontally, then drop them, letting them hang down close to your body. After doing so you will have no difficulty in speaking German, but you will not be able to speak English so readily. In throwing out your arms in the first instance, your mouth will open, and you will close it in speaking English. In letting them drop, in the second instance, your mouth will close, and you will open it in speaking German. Now, stand on the tips of your toes, and you will have no difficulty in speaking English, but you will not be able to speak German with ease. Then rest the weight of your body on your heels, and you will have no trouble in speaking German, but you cannot speak English with ease. In standing on the toes the body is extended by centrifugal, in standing on the heels it is contracted by centripetal action. Next, extend your neck, and you will have less trouble in speaking English than in speaking German; then lower your neck, and you will find no trouble in speaking German, but you will in speaking English. These experiments might be amplified manifold, but these must suffice for the present.

The same features of the opening and closing of the mouth in conformity with the position you assume, will obtain in all these instances the same as at first mentioned. It will scarcely be necessary for me to repeat that all this shows that the motion for English speech is centrifugal, for German centripetal. Nor will it be necessary to call attention to the fact that all this tends towards giving Germans a condensed and broad, Anglo-Saxons a lengthy and narrow bodily appearance.

It is, however, a noteworthy fact that with Germans the nearer you approach the sea, the more centrifugal becomes their action and personal appearance. The people of Northern Germany, therefore, though radically differing from them in most other respects, partake more of the general bodily features of Anglo-Saxon nations than those of the South of Germany, who are positively opposed to them.