Father-God.
Shakespeare has aptly said, in the words which Theseus addresses to the fair Hermia:—
"To you your father should be as a god;
One that composed your beauties, yea, and one
To whom you are but as a form in wax,
By him imprinted, and within his power
To leave the figure or disfigure it,"
and widespread indeed, in the childhood of the race, has been the belief in the Fatherhood of God. Concerning the first parents of human kind the ancient Hebrew Scripture declares: "And God created man in His own image," and long centuries afterwards, in his memorable oration to the wise men of Athens upon Mars' Hill, the Apostle Paul quoted with approval the words of the Greek poet, Cleanthes, who had said: "For we are all His off-spring." Epictetus, appealing to a master on behalf of his slaves, asked: "Wilt thou not remember over whom thou rulest, that they are thy relations, thy brethren by nature, the offspring of Zeus?" (388.210).
At the battle of Kadshu, Rameses II., of Egypt, abandoned by his soldiers, as a last appeal, exclaimed: "I will call upon thee, O my father Amon!" (388. 209).
Many prophets and preachers have there been who taught to men the doctrine of "God, the Father," but last and best of all was the "Son of Man," the Christ, who taught his disciples the world-heard prayer: "Our Father, who art in Heaven," who pro-claimed that "in my Father's house are many mansions," and whose words in the agony of Gethsemane were: "Abba, Father, all things are possible unto Thee; remove this cup from me: howbeit not what I will, but what Thou wilt."
Between the Buddhist Kalmucks, with whom the newly married couple reverently utter these words: "I incline myself this first time to my Lord God, who is my father and my mother" (518. I. 423), and the deistic philosophers of to-day there is a vast gulf, as there is also between the idea of Deity among the Cakchiquel Indians of Guatemala, where the words for God alom and achalom signify respectively "begetter of children," and "begetter of sons," and the modern Christian concept of God, the Father, with His only begotten Son, the Saviour of the world.
The society of the gods of human creation has everywhere been modelled upon that of man. He was right who said Olympus was a Greek city and Zeus a Greek father. According to D'Alviella: "The highest point of development that polytheism could reach is found in the conception of a monarchy or divine family, embracing all terrestrial beings, and even the whole universe. The divine monarch or father, however, might still be no more than the first among his peers. For the supreme god to become the Only God, he must rise above all beings, superhuman as well as human, not only in his power, but in his very nature" (388. 211).
Though the mythology of our Teutonic forefathers knew of the "All-Father,"—the holy Odin,—it is from those children-loving people, the Hebrews, that our Christian conception of "God the Father," with some modifications, is derived. As Professor Robertson Smith has pointed out, among the Semites we find the idea of the tribal god as father strongly developed: "But in heathen religions the fatherhood of the gods is a physical fatherhood. Among the Greeks, for example, the idea that the gods fashioned men out of clay, as potters fashion images, is relatively modern. The older conception is that the races of men have gods for their ancestors, or are the children of the earth, the common mother of gods and men, so that men are really of the same stock or kin of the gods. That the same conception was familiar to the older Semites appears from the Bible. Jeremiah describes idolaters as saying to a stock, Thou art my father; and to a stone, Thou hast brought me forth. In the ancient poem, Num. xxi. 29, the Moabites are called the sons and daughters of Chemosh, and, at a much more recent date, the prophet Malachi calls a heathen woman, 'the daughter of a strange god'" (535. 41-43).
Professor Smith cites also the evidence furnished by genealogies and personal names: "The father of Solomon's ally, Hiram, King of Tyre, was called Abibaal, 'my father is Baal'; Ben-Hadad, of Damascus, is 'the son of the god Hadad'; in Aramæan we find names like Barlâhâ, 'son of God,' Barba'shmîn, 'son of the Lord of Heaven,' Barate, 'son of Ate,' etc." We have also that passage in Genesis which tells how the "sons of God saw the daughters of men that were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose" (vi. 2), while an echo of the same thought dwells with the Polynesians, who term illegitimate children tamarika na te Atua, "children of the gods" (458. 121). D'Alviella further remarks: "Presently these family relations of the gods were extended till they embraced the whole creation, and especially mankind. The confusion between the terms for creating and begetting, which still maintained itself in half-developed languages, must have led to a spontaneous fusion of the ideas of creator and father." But there is another aspect of this question. Of the Amazulu Callaway writes: "Speaking generally, the head of each house is worshipped by the children of that house; for they do not know the ancients who are dead, nor their laud-giving names, nor their names. But their father whom they knew is the head by whom they begin and end in their prayer, for they know him best, and his love for his children; they remember his kindness to them whilst he was living; they compare his treatment of them whilst he was living, support themselves by it, and say, 'He will treat us in the same way now he is dead. We do not know why he should regard others beside us; he will regard us only.'" Of these people it is true, as they themselves say: "Our father is a great treasure to us, even when he is dead" (417.144).
Here we pass over to ancestor worship, seen at its height in China, whose great sage, Confucius, taught: "The great object of marriage is to beget children, and especially sons, who may perform the required sacrifices at the tombs of their parents" (434. 126).
In this connection, the following passage from Max Müller is of interest: "How religious ideas could spring from the perception of something infinite or immortal in our parents, grandparents, and ancestors, we can see even at the present day. Among the Zulus, for instance, Unkulunkulu or Ukulukulu, which means the great-great-grandfather, has become the name of God. It is true that each family has its own Unkulunkulu, and that his name varies accordingly. But there is also an Unkulunkulu of all men (unkulunladu wabantu bonke), and he comes very near to being a father of all men. Here also we can watch a very natural process of reasoning. A son would look upon his father as his progenitor; he would remember his father's father, possibly his father's grandfather. But beyond that his own experience could hardly go, and therefore the father of his own great-grandfather, of whom he might have heard, but whom he had never seen, would naturally assume the character of a distant unknown being; and, if the human mind ascended still further, it would almost by necessity be driven to a father of all fathers, that is to a creator of mankind, if not of the world" (510. 156).
Again we reach the "Father" of Pope's "Universal Prayer"—
"Father of all! in every age,
In every clime adored,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord,"
having started from the same thought as the Hebrews in the infancy of their race. An Eastern legend of the child Abraham has crystallized the idea. It is said that one morning, while with his mother in the cave in which they were hiding from Nimrod, he asked his mother, "Who is my God?" and she replied, "It is I." "And who is thy God?" he inquired farther. "Thy father" (547.69). Hence also we derive the declaration of Du Vair, "Nous devons tenir nos pères comme des dieux en terre," and the statement of another French writer, of whom Westermarck says: "Bodin wrote, in the later part of the sixteenth century, that, though the monarch commands his subjects, the master his disciples, the captain his soldiers, there is none to whom nature has given any command except the father, 'who is the true image of the great sovereign God, universal father of all things'" (166. 238).
Father-Sky.
"Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky,"
sang the poet Herbert, unconsciously renewing an ancient myth. As many cosmologies tell, Day and Dawn were born of the embraces of Earth and Sky. Ushas, Eos, Aurora, is the daughter of heaven, and one story of the birth is contained in the Maori myth of Papa and Rangi. Ushas, Max Muller tells us, "has two parents, heaven and earth, whose lap she fills with light" (510. 431). From Rangi, "Father-Sky," and Papa, "Mother-Earth," say the Maoris of New Zealand, sprang all living things; and, in like manner, the Chinese consider the Sky or Heaven,—Yang, the masculine, procreative, active element,—to be the "father of all things," while the Earth,—Yu, the feminine, conceiving, passive element,—is the "mother of all things." From the union of these two everything in existence has arisen, and consequently resembles the one or the other (529. 107).
Among the primitive Aryans, the Sky, or Heaven God, was called "Father," as shown by the Sanskrit Dyaus Pitâr, Greek Zeus Patær, Latin Jupiter, all of which names signify "sky father." Dyaus is also called janitâr, "producer, father," and Zeus, the "eternal father of men," the "father of gods and men, the ruler and preserver of the world." In the Vedic hymns are invocations of Dyaus (Sky), as "our Father," and of Prithivi (Earth), as "our Mother" (388. 210).
Dyaus symbolizes the "bright sky"; from the same primitive Indo-European root come the Latin words dies (day), deus or divus (god); the dark sombre vault of heaven is Varuna, the Greek [Greek: Ouranós], Latin Uranus.
Other instances of the bridal of earth and sky,—of "mother earth," and "father sky,"—are found among the tribes of the Baltic, the Lapps, the Finns (who have Ukko, "Father Heaven," Akka, "Mother Earth"), and other more barbaric peoples.
In Ashanti, the new deity, which the introduction of Christianity has added to the native pantheon, is called Nana Nyankupon, "Grandfather-sky" (438. 24).
The shaman of the Buryats of Alarsk prays to "Father Heaven"; in the
Altai Mountains the prayer is to
"Father Yulgen, thrice exalted,
Whom the edge of the moon's axe shuns,
Who uses the hoof of the horse.
Thou, Yulgen, hast created all men,
Who are stirring round about us,
Thou, Yulgen, hast endowed us with all cattle;
Let us not fall into sorrow!
Grant that we may resist the evil one!" (504. 70, 77).
We too have recollections of that "Father-Sky," whom our far-off ancestors adored, the bright, glad, cheerful sky, the "ancestor of all." Max Müller has summed up the facts of our inheritance in brief terms:—
"Remember that this Dyaush Pitar is the same as the Greek [Greek: Zeus Patær], and the Latin Jupiter, and you will see how this one word shows us the easy, the natural, the almost inevitable transition from the conception of the active sky as a purely physical fact, to the Father-Sky with all his mythological accidents, and lastly to that Father in heaven whom Æschylus meant when he burst out in his majestic prayer to Zeus, whosoever he is" (510. 410).
Unnumbered centuries have passed, but the "witchery of the soft blue sky" has still firm hold upon the race, and we are, as of old, children of "our Father, who art in Heaven."
Father-Sea.
Montesinos tells us that Viracocha, "sea-foam," the Peruvian god of the sea, was regarded as the source of all life and the origin of all things,—world-tiller, world-animator, he was called (509. 316). Xenophanes of Kolophon, a Greek philosopher of the sixth century B.C., taught that "the mighty sea is the father of clouds and winds and rivers." In Greek mythology Oceanus is said to be the father of the principal rivers of earth. Neptune, the god of the sea,—"Father Neptune," he is sometimes called,—had his analogue in a deity whom the Libyans looked upon as "the first and greatest of the gods." To Neptune, as the "Father of Streams," the Romans erected a temple in the Campus Martius and held games and feasts in his honour. The sea was also spoken of as pater aequoreus.
Father-River.
The name "Father of Waters" is assigned, incorrectly perhaps, to certain
American Indian languages, as an appellation of the Mississippi. From
Macaulay's "Lay of Horatius," we all know
"O Tiber, Father Tiber,
To whom the Romans pray,"
and "Father Thames" is a favourite epithet of the great English river.
Father-Frost.
In our English nursery-lore the frost is personified as a mischievous boy, "Jack Frost," to whose pranks its vagaries are due. In old Norse mythology we read of the terrible "Frost Giants," offspring of Ymir, born of the ice of Niflheim, which the warmth exhaled from the sun-lit land of Muspelheim caused to drop off into the great Ginnunga-gap, the void that once was where earth is now. In his "Frost Spirit" Whittier has preserved something of the ancient grimness.
We speak commonly of the "Frost-King," whose fetters bind the earth in winter.
In Russia the frost is called "Father Frost," and is personified as a white old man, or "a mighty smith who forges strong chains with which to bind the earth and the waters," and on Christmas Eve "the oldest man in each family takes a spoonful of kissel (a sort of pudding), and then, having put his head through the window, cries: 'Frost, Frost, come and eat kissel! Frost, Frost, do not kill our oats! Drive our flax and hemp deep into the ground'" (520.223-230).
Quite different is the idea contained in Grimm's tale of "Old Mother Frost,"—the old woman, the shaking of whose bed in the making causes the feathers to fly, and "then it snows on earth."
Father Fire.
Fire has received worship and apotheosis in many parts of the globe. The Muskogee Indians of the southeastern United States "gave to fire the highest Indian title of honour, grandfather, and their priests were called 'fire-makers'" (529. 68). The ancient Aztecs called the god of fire "the oldest of the gods, Huehueteotl, and also 'our Father,' Tota, as it was believed that from him all things were derived." He was supposed "to govern the generative proclivities and the sexual relations," and he was sometimes called Xiuhtecutli, "'God of the Green Leaf,' that is, of vegetable fecundity and productiveness." He was worshipped as "the life-giver, the active generator of animate existence,"—the "primal element and the immediate source of life" (413). These old Americans were in accord with the philosopher, Heraclitus of Ephesus, who held that "fire is the element, and all things were produced in exchange for fire"; and Heraclitus, in the fragments in which he speaks of "God," the "one wise," that which "knows all things," means "Fire." In the rites of the Nagualists occurs a "baptism by fire," which was "celebrated on the fourth day after the birth of the child, during which time it was deemed essential to keep the fire burning in the house, but not to permit any of it to be carried out, as that would bring bad luck to the child," and, in the work of one of the Spanish priests, a protest is made: "Nor must the lying-in women and their assistants be permitted to speak of Fire as the father and mother of all things, and the author of nature; because it is a common saying with them that Fire is present at the birth and death of every creature." It appears also that the Indians who followed this strange cult were wont to speak of "what the Fire said and how the Fire wept" (413. 45-46).
Among various other peoples, fire is regarded as auspicious to children; its sacred character is widely recognized. In the Zend-Avesta, the Bible of the ancient Persians, whose religion survives in the cult of the Parsees, now chiefly resident in Bombay and its environs, we read of Ahura-Mazda, the "Wise Lord," the "Father of the pure world," the "best thing of all, the source of light for the world." Purest and most sacred of all created things was fire, light (421. 32). In the Sar Dar, one of the Parsee sacred books, the people are bidden to "keep a continual fire in the house during a woman's pregnancy, and, after the child is born, to burn a lamp [or, better, a fire] for three nights and days, so that the demons and fiends may not be able to do any damage and harm." It is said that when Zoroaster, the founder of the ancient religion of Persia, was born, "a demon came at the head of a hundred and fifty other demons, every night for three nights, to slay him, but they were put to flight by seeing the fire, and were consequently unable to hurt him" (258. 96).
In ancient Rome, among the Lithuanians on the shores of the Baltic, in Ireland, in England, Denmark, Germany, "while a child remained unbaptized," it was, or is, necessary "to burn a light in the chamber." And in the island of Lewis, off the northwestern coast of Scotland, "fire used to be carried round women before they were churched, and children before they were christened, both night and morning; and this was held effectual to preserve both mother and infant from evil spirits, and (in the case of the infant) from being changed."
In the Gypsy mountain villages of Upper Hungary, during the baptism of a child, the women kindle in the hut a little fire, over which the mother with the baptized infant must step, in order that milk may not fail her while the child is being suckled (392. II. 21).
In the East Indies, the mother with her new-born child is made to pass between two fires.
Somewhat similar customs are known to have existed in northern and western Europe; in Ireland and Scotland especially, where children were made to pass through or leap over the fire.
To Moloch ("King"), their god of fire, the Phoenicians used to sacrifice the first-born of their noblest families. A later development of this cult seems to have consisted in making the child pass between two fires, or over or through a fire. This "baptism of fire" or "purification by fire," was in practice among the ancient Aztecs of Mexico. To the second water-baptism was added the fire-baptism, in which the child was drawn through the fire four times (509. 653).
Among the Tarahumari Indians of the Mexican Sierra Madre, the medicine-man "cures" the infant, "so that it may become strong and healthy, and live a long life." The ceremony is thus described by Lumholtz: "A big fire of corn-cobs, or of the branches of the mountain-cedar, is made near the cross [outside the house], and the baby is carried over the smoke three times towards each cardinal-point, and also three times backward. The motion is first toward the east, then toward the west, then south, then north. The smoke of the corn-cobs assures him of success in agriculture. With a fire-brand the medicine-man makes three crosses on the child's forehead, if it is a boy, and four, if a girl" (107. 298).
Among certain South American tribes the child and the mother are "smoked" with tobacco (326. II. 194).
With marriage, too, fire is associated. In Yucatan, at the betrothal, the priest held the little fingers of bridegroom and bride to the fire (509. 504), and in Germany, the maiden, on Christmas night, looks into the hearth-fire to discover there the features of her future husband (392. IV. 82). Rademacher (130a) has called attention to the great importance of the hearth and the fireplace in family life. In the Black Forest the stove is invoked in these terms: "Dear oven, I beseech thee, if thou hast a wife, I would have a man" (130 a. 60). Among the White Russians, before the wedding, the house of the bridegroom and that of the bride are "cleansed from evil spirits," by burning a heap of straw in the middle of the living-room, and at the beginning of the ceremonies, after they have been elevated upon a cask, as "Prince" and "Princess," the guests, with the wedding cake and two tapers in their hands, go round the cask three times, and with the tapers held crosswise burn them a little on the neck, the forehead, and the temples, so that the hair is singed away somewhat. At church the wax tapers are of importance: if they burn brightly and clearly, the young couple will have a happy, merry married life; if feeble, their life will be a quiet one; if they flicker, there will be strife and quarrels between them (392 (1891). 161).
Writing of Manabozho, or Michabo, the great divinity of the Algonkian tribes of the Great Lakes, Dr. D. G. Brinton says: "Michabo, giver of life and light, creator and preserver, is no apotheosis of a prudent chieftain, still less the fabrication of an idle fancy, or a designing priestcraft, but, in origin, deeds, and name, the not unworthy personification of the purest conceptions they possessed concerning the Father of All" (409. 469).
To Agni, fire, light, "in whom are all the gods," the ancient Hindu prayed: "Be unto us easy of access, as a father to his son" (388. 210), and later generations of men have seen in light the embodiment of God. As Max Müller says, "We ourselves also, though we may no longer use the name of Morning-Light for the Infinite, the Beyond, the Divine, still find no better expression than Light when we speak of the manifestations of God, whether in nature or in our mind" (510. 434).
In the Christian churches of to-day hymns of praise are sung to God as "Father of Light and Life," and their neophytes are bidden, as of old, to "walk as Children of Light."
Father-Sun.
At the naming of the new-born infant in ancient Mexico, the mother thus addressed the Sun and the Earth: "Thou Sun, Father of all that live, and thou Earth, our Mother, take ye this child, and guard it as your son." A common affirmation with them was: "By the life of the Sun, and of our Lady, the Earth" (529. 97).
Many primitive tribes have the custom of holding the newborn child up to the sun.
Not a few races and peoples have called themselves "children of the sun." The first of the Incas of Peru—a male and a female—were children of the Sun "our Father," who, "seeing the pitiable condition of mankind, was moved to compassion, and sent to them, from Heaven, two of his children, a son and a daughter, to teach them how to do him honour, and pay him divine worship "; they were also instructed by the sun in all the needful arts of life, which they taught to men (529. 102). When the "children of the Sun" died, they were said to be "called to the home of the Sun, their Father" (100. 479).
The Comanche Indians, who worship the sun with dances and other rites, call him taab-apa, "Father Sun," and the Sarcees speak of the sun as "Our Father," and of the earth as "Our Mother" (412. 122, 72).
With the Piute Indians "the sun is the father and ruler of the heavens. He is the big chief. The moon is his wife, and the stars are their children. The sun eats his children whenever he can catch them. They fall before him, and are all the time afraid when he is passing through the heavens. When he (their father) appears in the morning, you see all the stars, his children, fly out of sight,—go away back into the blue of the above,—and they do not wake to be seen again until he, their father, is about going to his bed" (485. I. 130).
Dr. Eastman says of the Sioux Indians: "The sun was regarded as the father, and the earth as the mother, of all things that live and grow; but, as they had been married a long time and had become the parents of many generations, they were called the great-grandparents" (518 (1894). 89).
Widespread over the earth has been, and still is, the worship of the sun; some mythologists, indeed, would go too far and explain almost every feature of savage and barbarous religion as a sun-myth or as smacking of heliolatry.
Imagery and figurative language borrowed from the consideration of the aspect and functions of the great orb of day have found their way into and beautified the religious thought of every modern Christian community. The words of the poet Thomson:
"Prime cheerer light!
Of all material beings first and best!
Efflux divine! Nature's resplendent robe!
Without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt
In unessential gloom; and thou, O Sun!
Soul of surrounding worlds! in whom best seen
Shines out thy Maker!"
find briefer expression in the simple speech of the dying Turner: "The sun is God."
Father-Earth.
Though, in nearly every portion of the globe the apotheosis of earth is as a woman, we find in America some evidences of a cult of the terrestrial Father-God. Concerning the cave-worship of the Mexican aborigines, Dr. Brinton says (413. 38, 50): "The intimate meaning of this cave-cult was the worship of the Earth. The Cave-God, the Heart of the Hills, really typified the Earth, the Soil, from whose dark recesses flow the limpid streams and spring the tender shoots of the food-plants as well as the great trees. To the native Mexican the Earth was the provider of food and drink, the common Father of All; so that, to this day, when he would take a solemn oath, he stoops to the earth, touches it with his hand, and repeats the solemn formula: 'Cuix amo nechitla in toteotzin? Does not our Great God see me?'"
Father-Wind.
Dr. Berendt, when travelling through the forests of Yucatan, heard his Maya Indian guide exclaim in awe-struck tones, as the roar of a tornado made itself heard in the distance: He catal nohoch yikal nohoch tat, "Here comes the mighty wind of the Great Father." As Dr. Brinton points out, this belief has analogues all over the world, in the notion of the wind-bird, the master of breath, and the spirit, who is father of all the race, for we learn also that "the whistling of the wind is called, or attributed to, tat acmo, words which mean 'Father Strong-Bird'" (411. 175).
The cartography of the Middle Ages and the epochs of the great maritime discoveries has made us familiar with the wind-children, offspring of the wind-father, from whose mouths came the breezes and the storms, and old Boreas, of whom the sailors sing, has traces of the fatherhood about him. More than one people has believed that God, the Father, is Spirit, breath, wind.
Other Father-Gods.
The ancient Romans applied the term Pater to many of their gods beside the great Jove. Vulcan was called Lemnus Pater, the "Lemnian Father"; Bacchus, Pater Lenæus; Janus, the "early god of business," is termed by Horace, Matutinus Pater, "Early-morning Father"; Mars is Mars Pater, etc. The Guarayo Indians, of South America, prayed for rain and bountiful harvests to "Tamoï, the grandfather, the old god in heaven, who was their first ancestor and had taught them agriculture" (100. 288).
The Abipones, of Paraguay, called the Pleiades their "Grandfather" and
"Creator." When the constellation was invisible, they said: "Our
Grandfather, Keebet, is ill" (509. 274, 284).
In his account of the folk-lore of Yucatan, Dr. Brinton tells us that the giant-beings known as Hbalamob, or balams, are sometimes "affectionately referred to as yum balam, or 'Father Balam.'" The term yum is practically the equivalent of the Latin pater, and of the "father," employed by many primitive peoples in addressing, or speaking of, their great male divinities (411. 176).
In his acute exposition of the philosophy of the Zuñi Indians, Mr. Gushing tells us (424. 11) that "all beings, whether deistic and supernatural, or animistic and mortal, are regarded as belonging to one system; and that they are likewise believed to be related by blood seems to be indicated by the fact that human beings are spoken of as the 'children of men,' while all other beings are referred to as 'the Fathers,' the 'All-Fathers (Á-tä-tchu),' and 'Our Fathers.'" The "Priest'of the Bow," when travelling alone through a dangerous country, offers up a prayer, which begins: "Si! This day, My Fathers, ye Animal Beings, although this country be filled with enemies, render me precious" (424. 41). The hunter, in the ceremonial of the "Deer Medicine," prays: "Si! This day, My Father, thou Game Animal, even though thy trail one day and one night hast (been made) round about; however, grant unto me one step of my earth-mother. Wanting thy life-blood, wanting that flesh, hence I address to thee good fortune, address to thee treasure," etc. When he has stricken down the animal, "before the 'breath of life' has left the fallen deer (if it be such), he places its fore feet back of its horns, and, grasping its mouth, holds it firmly, closely, while he applies his lips to its nostrils and breathes as much wind into them as possible, again inhaling from the lungs of the dying animal into his own. Then, letting go, he exclaims: 'Ah! Thanks, my father, my child. Grant unto me the seeds of earth ('daily bread') and the gift of water. Grant unto me the light of thy favour, do" (424. 36).
Something of a like nature, perhaps, attaches to the bear-ceremonials among the Ainu and other primitive peoples of northeastern Asia, with whom that animal is held in great respect and reverence, approaching to deification.
Of Pó-shai-an-k'ia, "the God (Father) of the Medicine Societies, or sacred esoteric orders of the Zuñis," Mr. Gushing tells us: "He is supposed to have appeared in human form, poorly clad, and therefore reviled by men; to have taught the ancestors of the Zuñi, Taos, Oraibi, and Coçonino Indians their agricultural and other arts; their systems of worship by means of plumed and painted prayer-sticks; to have organized their medicine societies, and then to have disappeared toward his home in Shi-pä-pu-li-ma (from shi-pa-a = mist, vapour; u-lin, surrounding; and i-mo-na = sitting-place of; 'The mist-enveloped city'), and to have vanished beneath the world, whence he is said to have departed for the home of the Sun. He is still the conscious auditor of the prayers of his children, the invisible ruler of the spiritual Shi-pä-pu-li-ma, and of the lesser gods of the medicine orders, the principal 'Finisher of the Paths of our Lives.' He is, so far as any identity can be established, the 'Montezuma' of popular and usually erroneous Mexican tradition" (424. 16). Both on the lowest steps of civilization and on the highest, we meet with this passing over of the Father into the Son, this participation of God in the affairs and struggles of men.
CHAPTER V.
THE NAME CHILD.
Liebe Kinder haben viele Namen
[Dear children have many names].—German Proverb.
Child or boy, my darling, which you will.—Swinburne.
Men ever had, and ever will have, leave
To coin new words well-suited to the age.
Words are like leaves, some wither every year,
And every year a younger race succeeds.—Roscommon.
Child and its Synonyms.
Our word child—the good old English term; for both babe and infant are borrowed—simply means the "product of the womb" (compare Gothic kilthei, "womb"). The Lowland-Scotch dialect still preserves an old word for "child" in bairn, cognate with Anglo-Saxon bearn, Icelandic, Swedish, Danish, and Gothic barn (the Gothic had a diminutive barnilo, "baby"), Sanskrit bharna, which signifies "the borne one," "that which is born," from the primitive Indo-European root bhr, "to bear, to carry in the womb," whence our "to bear" and the German "ge-bären." Son, which finds its cognates in all the principal Aryan dialects, except Latin, and perhaps Celtic,—the Greek [Greek: yios] is for [Greek: syios], and is the same word,—a widespread term for "male child, or descendant," originally meant, as the Old Irish suth, "birth, fruit," and the Sanskrit sû, "to bear, to give birth to," indicate, "the fruit of the womb, the begotten"—an expression which meets us time and again in the pages of the Hebrew Bible. The words offspring, issue, seed, used in higher diction, explain themselves and find analogues all over the world. To a like category belong Sanskrit gárbha, "brood of birds, child, shoot"; Pali gabbha, "womb, embryo, child"; Old High German chilburra, "female lamb"; Gothic kalbô, "female lamb one year old"; German Kalb; English calf; Greek [Greek: delphus], "womb"; whence [Greek: adelphus], "brother," literally "born of the same womb." Here we see, in the words for their young, the idea of the kinship of men and animals in which the primitive races believed. The "brought forth" or "born" is also the signification of the Niskwalli Indian ba'-ba-ad, "infant"; de-bád-da, "infant, son"; Maya al, "son or daughter of a woman"; Cakchiquel 4_ahol_, "son," and like terms in many other tongues. Both the words in our language employed to denote the child before birth are borrowed. Embryo, with its cognates in the modern tongues of Europe, comes from the Greek [Greek: embruon], "the fruit of the womb before delivery; birth; the embryo, foetus; a lamb newly born, a kid." The word is derived from eu, "within"; and bruo, "I am full of anything, I swell or teem with"; in a transitive sense, "I break forth." The radical idea is clearly "swelling," and cognates are found in Greek [Greek: bruon], "moss"; and German Kraut, "plant, vegetable." Foetus comes to us from Latin, where it meant "a bearing, offspring, fruit; bearing, dropping, hatching,—of animals, plants, etc.; fruit, produce, offspring, progeny, brood." The immediate derivation of the word is feto, "I breed," whence also effetus, "having brought forth young, worn out by bearing, effete." Feto itself is from an old verb feuere, "to generate, to produce," possibly related to fui and our be. The radical signification of foetus then is "that which is bred, or brought to be"; and from the same root fe are derived feles, "cat" (the fruitful animal); fe-num, "hay"; fe-cundus, "fertile"; fe-lix, "happy" (fruitful). The corresponding verb in Greek is [Greek: phuein], "to grow, to spring forth, to come into being," whence the following: [Greek: phusis], "a creature, birth, nature,"—nature is "all that has had birth"; [Greek: phuton] "something grown, plant, tree, creature, child"; [Greek: phulae, philon] "race, clan, tribe,"—the "aggregate of those born in a certain way or place"; [Greek: phus], "son"; [Greek: phusas], "father," etc.
In English, we formerly had the phrase "to look babies in the eyes," and we still speak of the pupil of the eye, the old folk-belief having been able to assert itself in the every-day speech of the race,—the thought that the soul looked out of the windows of the eyes. In Latin, pupilla pupila, "girl, pupil of the eye," is a diminutive of pupa (puppa), "girl, damsel, doll, puppet"; other related words are pupulus, "little boy"; pupillus, "orphan, ward," our pupil; pupulus, "little child, boy"; pupus, "child, boy." The radical of all these is pu, "to beget"; whence are derived also the following: puer, "child, boy"; puella (for puerula), a diminutive of puer, "girl"; pusus, "boy"; pusio, "little boy," pusillus; "a very little boy"; putus, "boy"; putillus, "little boy"; putilla, "little girl,"—here belongs also pusillanimus, "small-minded, boy-minded"; pubis, "ripe, adult"; pubertas, "puberty, maturity"; pullus, "a young animal, a fowl," whence our pullet. In Greek we find the cognate words [Greek: polos] "a young animal," related to our foal, filly; [Greek: polion], "pony," and, as some, perhaps too venturesome, have suggested, [Greek: pais], "child," with its numerous derivatives in the scientifical nomenclature and phraseology of to-day. In Sanskrit we have putra, "son," a word familiar as a suffix in river-names,—Brahmaputra, "son of Brahma,"—pota, "the young of an animal," etc. Skeat thinks that our word boy, borrowed from Low German and probably related to the Modern High German Bube, whence the familiar "bub" of American colloquial speech, is cognate with Latin pupus.
To this stock of words our babe, with its diminutive baby, seems not akin. Skeat, rejecting the theory that it is a reduplicative child-word, like papa, sees in it merely a modification (infantine, perhaps) of the Celtic maban, diminutive of mab, "son," and hence related to maid, the particular etymology of which is discussed elsewhere.
Infant, also, is a loan-word in English. In Latin, infans was the coinage of some primitive student of children, of some prehistoric anthropologist, who had a clear conception of "infancy" as "the period of inability to speak,"—for infans signifies neither more nor less than "not speaking, unable to speak." The word, like our "childish," assumed also the meanings "child, young, fresh, new, silly," with a diminutive infantulus. The Latin word infans has its representatives in French and other Romance languages, and has given rise to enfanter, "to give birth to a child," enfantement, "labour," two of the few words relating to child-birth in which the child is directly remembered. The history of the words infantry, "foot-soldiers," and Infanta, "a princess of the blood royal" in Spain (even though she be married), illustrates a curious development of thought.
Our word daughter, which finds cognates in Teutonic, Slavonic, Armenian, Zend, Sanskrit, and Greek, Skeat would derive from the root dugh, "to milk," the "daughter" being primitively the "milker," —the "milkmaid,"—which would remove the term from the list of names for "child" in the proper sense of the word. Kluge, however, with justice perhaps, considers this etymology improbable.
A familiar phrase in English is "babes and sucklings," the last term of which, cognate with German Säugling, meets with analogues far and wide among the peoples of the earth. The Latin words for children in relation to their parents are filius (diminutive filiolus), "son," and filia (diminutive filiola), "daughter," which have a long list of descendants in the modern Neo-Latin or Romance languages,—French fils, fille, filleul, etc.; Italian figlio, figlia, etc. According to Skeat, filius signified originally "infant," perhaps "suckling," from felare, "to suck," the radical of which, fe (Indo-European dhe), appears also in femina, "woman," and femella, "female," the "sucklers" par excellence. In Greek the cognate words are [Greek: titthae], "nurse," thaelus, "female," thaelae, "teat," etc.; in Lithuanian, dels, "son." With nonagan, "teat, breast," are cognate in the Delaware Indian language nonoshellaan, "to suckle," nonetschik, "suckling," and other primitive tongues have similar series.
The Modern High German word for child is Kind, which, as a substantive, finds representatives neither in Gothic nor in early English, but has cognates in the Old Norse kunde, "son," Gothic -kunds, Anglo-Saxon -kund, a suffix signifying "coming from, originating from." The ultimate radical of the word is the Indo-European root gen (Teutonic ken), "to bear, to produce," whence have proceeded also kin, Gothic kuni; queen, Gothic qvêns, "woman"; king, Modern High German König, originally signifying perhaps "one of high origin"; Greek genos and its derivatives; Latin genus, gens, gigno; Lithuanian gentis, "relative"; Sanskrit janas, "kin, stock," janús, "creature, kin, birth," jantú, "child, being, stock," jâtá, "son." Kind, therefore, while not the same word as our child, has the same primitive meaning, "the produced one," and finds further cognates in kid and colt, names applied to the young of certain animals, and the first of which, in the slang of to-day, is applied to children also. In some parts of Germany and Switzerland Kind has the sense of boy; in Thuringia, for example, people speak of zwei Kinder und ein Mädchen, "two boys and a girl." From the same radical sprang the Modern High German Knabe, Old High German chnabo, "boy, youth, young fellow, servant," and its cognates, including our English knave, with its changed meaning, and possibly also German Knecht and English knight, of somewhat similar import originally.
To the same original source we trace back Greek [Greek: genetaer], Latin genitor, "parent," and their cognates, in all of which the idea of genesis is prominent. Here belong, in Greek: [Greek: genesis], "origin, birth, beginning"; [Greek: gynae], "woman"; [Greek: genea], "family, race"; [Greek: geinomai], "I beget, produce, bring forth, am born"; [Greek: gignomai], "I come into a new state of being, become, am born." In Latin: gigno, "I beget, bring forth"; gens, "clan, race, nation,"—those born in a certain way; ingens, "vast, huge, great,"—"not gens," i.e. "born beyond or out of its kind"; gentilis, "belonging to the same clan, race, tribe, nation," then, with various turns of meaning, "national, foreign," whence our gentile, genteel, gentle, gentry, etc.; genus, "birth, race, sort, kind"; ingenium, "innate quality, natural disposition"; ingeniosus, "of good natural abilities, born well-endowed," hence ingenious; ingenuus, "native, free-born, worthy of a free man," hence "frank, ingenuous"; progenies, "descent, descendants, offspring, progeny"; gener, "son-in-law"; genius, "innate superior nature, tutelary deity, the god born to a place," hence the genius, who is "born," not "made"; genuinus, "innate, born-in, genuine"; indigena, "native, born-there, indigenous"; generosus, "of high, noble birth," hence "noble-minded, generous"; genero, "I beget, produce, engender, create, procreate," and its derivatives degenero, regenero, etc., with the many words springing from them. From the same radical gen comes the Latin (g)nascor, "I am born," whose stem (g)na is seen also in natio, "the collection of those born," or "the birth," and natura, "the world of birth,"—like Greek [Greek: phnsis],—for "nations" and "nature" have both "sprung into being." The Latin germen (our germ), which signified "sprig, offshoot, young bud, sprout, fruit, embryo," probably meant originally simply "growth," from the root ker, "to make to grow." From the same Indo-European radical have come the Latin creare, "to create, make, produce," with its derivatives procreare and creator, which we now apply to the Supreme Being, as the "maker" or "producer" of all things. Akin are also crescere, "to come forth, to arise, to appear, to increase, to grow, to spring, to be born," and Ceres, the name of the goddess of agriculture (growth and creation), whence our word cereal; and in Greek [Greek: Kronos], the son of Uranus (Heaven) and Gæa (Earth), [Greek: kratos], "strength," and its derivatives ("democracy," etc.).
Another interesting Latin word is pario, "I bring forth, produce," whence parens, "producer, parent," partus, "birth, bearing, bringing forth; young, offspring, foetus, embryo of any creature," parturio, parturitio, etc. Pario is used alike of human beings, animals, birds, fish, while parturio is applied to women and animals, and, by Virgil, even to trees,—parturit arbos, "the tree is budding forth,"—and by other writers to objects even less animate.
In the Latin enitor, "I bring forth or bear children or young,"—properly, "I struggle, strive, make efforts,"—we meet with the idea of "labour," now so commonly associated with child-bearing, and deriving from the old comparison of the tillage of the soil and the bearing of the young. This association existed in Hebrew also, and Cain, the first-born of Adam, was the first agriculturist. We still say the tree bears fruit, the land bears crops, is fertile, and the most characteristic word in English belonging to the category in question is "to bear" children, cognate with Modern High German ge-bären, Gothic gabairan, Latin ferre (whence fertilis), Greek [Greek: ferein], Sanskrit bhri, etc., all from the Indo-European root bher, "to carry"—compare the use of tragen in Modern High German: sie trägt ein Kind unter dem Herzen. The passive verb is "to be born" literally, "to be borne, to be carried, produced," and the noun corresponding, birth, cognate with German Geburt, and Old Norse burthr, which meant "embryo" as well. Related ideas are seen in burden, and in the Latin, fors, fortuna, for "fortune" is but that which is "borne" or "produced, brought forth," just as the Modern High German Heil, "fortune, luck," is probably connected with the Indo-European radical gen, "to produce."
Corresponding to the Latin parentes, in meaning, we have the Gothic berusjos, "the bearers," or "parents"; we still use in English, "forbears," in the sense of ancestors. The good old English phrase "with child," which finds its analogues in many other languages, has, through false modesty, been almost driven out of literature, as it has been out of conversational language, by pregnant, which comes to us from the Latins, who also used gravidus,—a word we now apply only to animals, especially dogs and ants,—and enceinte, borrowed from French, and referring to the ancient custom of girding a woman who was with child. Similarly barren of direct reference to the child are accouchement, which we have borrowed from French, and the German Entbindung.
In German, Grimm enumerates, among other phrases relating to child-birth, the following, the particular meanings and uses of which are explained in his great dictionary: Schwanger, gross zum Kinde, zum Kinde gehen, zum Kinde arbeiten, um's Kind kommen, mit Kinde, ein Kind tragen, Kindesgrosz, Kindes schwer, Kinder haben, Kinder bekommen, Kinder kriegen, niederkommen, entbinden, and the quaint and beautiful eines Kindes genesen,—all used of the mother. Applied to both parents we find Kinder machen, Kinder bekommen (now used more of the mother), Kinder erzeugen (more recently, of the father only), Kinder erzielen.
Our English word girl is really a diminutive (from a stem gir, seen in Old Low German gör, "a child") from some Low German dialect, and, though it now signifies only "a female child, a young woman," in Middle English gerl (girl, gurl) was applied to a young person of either sex. In the Swiss dialects to-day gurre, or gurrli, is a name given to a "girl" in a depreciatory sense, like our own "girl-boy." In many primitive tongues there do not appear to be special words for "son" and "daughter," or for "boy" and "girl," as distinguished from each other, these terms being rendered "male-child (man-child)," and "female-child (woman-child)" respectively. The "man-child" of the King James' version of the Scriptures belongs in this category. In not a few languages, the words for "son" and "daughter" and for "boy" and "girl" mean really "little man," and "little woman"—a survival of which thought meets us in the "little man" with which his elders are even now wont to denominate "the small boy." In the Nahuatl language of Mexico, "woman" is ciuatl, "girl" ciuatontli; in the Niskwalli, of the State of Washington, "man" is stobsh, "boy" stótomish, "woman" sláne, "girl" cháchas (i.e. "small") sláne; in the Tacana, of South. America, "man" is dreja, "boy" drejave, "woman" epuna, "girl" epunave. And but too often the "boys" and "girls" even as mere children are "little men and women" in more respects than that of name.
In some languages the words for "son," "boy," "girl" are from the same root. Thus, in the Mazatec language, of Mexico, we find indidi "boy," tzadi "girl," indi "son," and in the Cholona, of Peru, nun-pullup "boy," ila-pullup "girl," pul "son,"—where ila means "female," and nun "male."
In some others, as was the case with the Latin puella, from puer, the word for "girl" seems derived from that for "boy." Thus, we have in Maya, mehen "son," ix-mehen "daughter,"— -ix is a feminine prefix; and in the Jívaro, of Ecuador, vila "son," vilalu, "daughter."
Among very many primitive peoples, the words for "babe, infant, child," signify really "small," "little one," like the Latin parvus, the Scotch wean (for wee ane, "wee one"), etc. In Hawaiian, for example, the "child" is called keiki, "the little one," and in certain Indian languages of the Western Pacific slope, the Wiyot kusha'ma "child," Yuke únsil "infant," Wintun cru-tut "infant," Niskwalli chá chesh "child (boy)," all signify literally "small," "little one."
Some languages, again, have diminutives of the word for "child," often formed by reduplication, like the wee wean of Lowland Scotch, and the pilpil, "infant" of the Nahuatl of Mexico.
In the Snanaimuq language, of Vancouver Island, the words k·ä'ela, "male infant," and k·ä'k·ela, "female infant," mean simply "the weak one." In the Modoc, of Oregon, a "baby" is literally, "what is carried on one's self." In the Tsimshian, of British Columbia, the word wok·â'ûts, "female infant," signifies really "without labrets," indicating that the creature is yet too young for the lip ornaments. In Latin, liberi, one of the words for "children," shows on its face that it meant only "children, as opposed to the slaves of the house, servi"; for liberi really denotes "the free ones." In "the Galibi language of Brazil, tigami signifies 'young brother, son, and little child,' indiscriminately." The following passage from Westermarck recalls the "my son," etc., of our higher conversational or even officious style (166.93):—
"Mr. George Bridgman states that, among the Mackay blacks of Queensland, the word for 'daughter' is used by a man for any young woman belonging to the class to which his daughter would belong if he had one. And, speaking of the Australians, Eyre says, 'In their intercourse with each other, natives of different tribes are exceedingly punctilious and polite; … almost everything that is said is prefaced by the appellation of father, son, brother, mother, sister, or some other similar term, corresponding to that degree of relationship which would have been most in accordance with their relative ages and circumstances."
Similar phenomena meet us in the language of the criminal classes, and the slang of the wilder youth of the country.
Among the Andaman Islanders: "Parents, when addressing or referring to their children, and not using names, employ distinct terms, the father calling his son dar ô-dire, i.e. 'he that has been begotten by me,' and his daughter, dar ô-dire-pail-; while the mother makes use of the word dab ê-tire, i.e. 'he whom I have borne,' for the former, and dab ê-tire pail- for the latter; similarly, friends, in speaking of children to their parents, say respectively, ngar ô-dire, or ngab ê-tire (your son), ngar ô-dire-pail-, or ngab ê-tire-pail- (your daughter)" (498. 59).
In the Tonkawé Indian language of Texas, "to be born" is nikaman yekéwa, literally, "to become bones," and in the Klamath, of Oregon, "to give birth," is nkâcgî, from nkák, "the top of the head," and gî, "to make," or perhaps from kák'gî, "to produce bones," from the idea that the seat of life is in the bones. In the Nipissing dialect of the Algonkian tongue, ni kanis, "my brother," signifies literally, "my little bone," an etymology which, in the light of the expressions cited above, reminds one of the Greek [Greek: adelphos], and the familiar "bone of my bone," etc. A very interesting word for "child" is Sanskrit toka, Greek [Greek: teknon], from the Indo-European radical tek, "to prepare, make, produce, generate." To the same root belong Latin texere, "to weave," Greek [Greek: technae] "art"; so that the child and art have their names from the same primitive source—the mother was the former of the child as she was of the chief arts of life.
"Flower-Names."
The people who seem to have gone farthest in the way of words for "child" are the Andaman Islanders, who have an elaborate system of nomenclature from the first year to the twelfth or fifteenth, when childhood may be said to end. There are also in use a profusion of "flower-names" and complimentary terms. The "flower-names" are confined to girls and young women who are not mothers. The following list shows the peculiarity of the name-giving:—
1. Proper name chosen before birth of child: .dô'ra.
2. If child turns out to be a boy, he is called: .dô'ra-ô'ta; if a girl, .dô'ra-kâ'ta; these names (ô'ta and kâ'ta refer to the genital organs of the two sexes) are used during the first two or three years only.
3. Until he reaches puberty, the boy is called: .dô'ra dâ'la, and the girl, .dô'ra-po'il'ola.
4. When she reaches maturity, the girl is said to be ún-lâ-wi, or â'kà-lá-wi, and receives a "flower-name" chosen from the one of "the eighteen prescribed trees which blossom in succession" happening to be in season when she attains womanhood.
5. If this should occur in the middle of August, when the Pterocarpus dalbergoides, called châ'langa, is in flower, ".dô'ra-po-ilola would become .chà'garu dô'ra, and this double name would cling to the girl until she married and was a mother, then the 'flower' name would give way to the more dignified term chän'a (madam or mother).dô'ra; if childless, a woman has to pass a few years of married life before she is called chän'a, after which no further change is made in her name."
Much other interesting information about name-giving may be found in the pages of Mr. Man's excellent treatise on this primitive people (498. 59-61; 201-208).
Sign Language.
Interesting details about signs and symbols for "child" may be found in
the elaborate article of Colonel Mallery on "Sign Language among North
American Indians" (497a), and the book of Mr. W. P. Clark on Indian
Sign Language (420).
Colonel Mallery tells us that "the Egyptian hieroglyphists, notably in the designation of Horus, their dawn-god, used the finger in or on the lips for 'child.' It has been conjectured in the last instance that the gesture implied, not the mode of taking nourishment, but inability to speak, in-fans." This conjecture, however, the author rejects (497a. 304). Among the Arapaho Indians "the sign for child, baby, is the forefinger in the mouth, i.e. a nursing child, and a natural sign of a deaf-mute is the same;" related seem also the ancient Chinese forms for "son" and "birth," as well as the symbol for the latter among the Dakota Indians (494 a. 356). Clark describes the symbol for "child," which is based upon those for "parturition" and "height," thus: "Bring the right hand, back outwards, in front of centre of body, and close to it, fingers extended, touching, pointing outwards and downwards; move the hands on a curve downwards and outwards; then carry the right hand, back outwards, well out to front and right of body, fingers extended and pointing upwards, hand resting at supposed height of child; the hand is swept into last position at the completion of first gesture. In speaking of children generally, and, in fact, unless it is desired to indicate height or age of the child, the first sign is all that is used or is necessary. This sign also means the young of any animal. In speaking of children generally, sometimes the signs for different heights are only made. Deaf-mutes make the combined sign for male and female, and then denote the height with right hand held horizontally" (420. 109).
For "baby," deaf-mutes "hold extended left hand back down, in front of body, forearm about horizontal and pointing to right and front; then lay the back of partially compressed right hand on left forearm near wrist" (420. 57).
Names.
The interesting and extensive field of personal onomatology—the study of personal names—cannot be entered upon exhaustively here. Shakespeare has said:—
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet,"—
and the same remark might be made of the children of some primitive peoples. Not infrequently the child is named before it is born. Of the Central Eskimo we read that often before the birth of the child, "some relative or friend lays his hand upon the mother's stomach, and decides what the infant is to be called; and, as the name serves for either sex, it is of no consequence whether it be a girl or a boy" (402. 612, 590). Polle has a good deal to say of the deep significance of the name with certain peoples—"to be" and "to be named" appearing sometimes as synonymous (517. 99). "Hallowed be Thy name" expresses the ideas of many generations of men. With the giving of a name the soul and being of a former bearer of it were supposed to enter into and possess the child or youth upon whom it was conferred. Kink says of the Eskimo of East Greenland, that "they seemed to consider man as consisting of three independent parts,—soul, body, name" (517. 122). One can easily understand the mysterious associations of the name, the taboos of its utterance or pronunciation so common among primitive peoples—the reluctance to speak the name of a dead person, as well as the desire to confer the name of such a one upon a new-born child, spring both from the same source.
The folk-lore and ceremonial of name-giving are discussed at length in Ploss, and the special treatises on popular customs. In several parts of Germany, it is held to be ominous for misfortune or harm to the child, if the name chosen for it should be made known before baptism. Sometimes, the child is hardly recognized as existing until he has been given a name. In Gerbstadt in Mansfeld, Germany, the child before it receives its name is known as "dovedung," and, curiously enough, in far-off Samoa, the corresponding appellation is "excrement of the family-god" (517.103).
The following statement, regarding one of the American Indian tribes, will stand for many other primitive peoples: "The proper names of the Dakotas are words, simple and compounded, which are in common use in the language. They are usually given to children by the father, grandfather, or some other influential relative. When young men have distinguished themselves in battle, they frequently take to themselves new names, as the names of distinguished ancestors of warriors now dead. The son of a chief when he comes to the chieftainship, generally takes the name of his father or grandfather, so that the same names, as in other more powerful dynasties, are handed down along the royal lines" (524. 44-45).
Of the same people we are also told: "The Dakotas have no family or surnames. But the children of a family have particular names which belong to them, in the order of their birth up to the fifth child. These names are for boys, Caske, Hepan, Hepi, Catan, and Hake. For girls they are, Windna, Hapan, Hapistinna, Wanske, and Wihake."
Terms applied to Children.
An interesting study might be made of the words we apply to children in respect of size, little, small, wee, tiny, etc., very many of which, in their etymology, have no reference to childhood, or indeed to smallness. The derivation of little is uncertain, but the word is reasonably thought to have meant "little" in the sense of "deceitful, mean," from the radical lut, "to stoop" (hence "to creep, to sneak"). Curiously enough, the German klein has lost its original meaning,—partly seen in our clean,—"bright, clear." Small also belongs in the same category, as the German schmal, "narrow, slim," indicates, though perhaps the original signification may have been "small" as we now understand it; a cognate word is the Latin macer, "thin, lean," which has lost an s at the beginning. Even wee, as the phrase "a little wee bit" hints, is thought (by Skeat) to be nothing more than a Scandinavian form of the same word which appears in our English way. Skeat also tells us that "a little teeny boy," meant at first "a little fractious (peevish) boy," being derived from an old word teen, "anger, peevishness." Analogous to tiny is pettish, which is derived from pet, "mama's pet," "a spoiled child." Endless would the list of words of this class be, if we had at our disposal the projected English dialect dictionary; many other illustrations might be drawn from the numerous German dialect dictionaries and the great Swiss lexicon of Tobler.
Still more interesting, perhaps, would be the discussion of the special words used to denote the actions and movements of children of all ages, and the names and appellatives of the child derived from considerations of age, constitution, habits, actions, speech, etc., which are especially numerous in Low German dialects and such forms of English speech as the Lowland Scotch. Worthy of careful attention are the synonyms of child, the comparisons in which the child figures in the speech of civilized and uncivilized man; the slang terms also, which, like the common expression of to-day, kid, often go back to a very primitive state of mind, when "children" and "kids" were really looked upon as being more akin than now. Beside the terms of contempt and sarcasm,—goose, loon, pig, calf, donkey, etc.,—those figures of speech which, the world over, express the sentiment of the writer of the Wisdom of Solomon regarding the foolishness of babes,—we, like the ancient Mexicans and many another lower race, have terms of praise and endearment,—"a jewel of a babe," and the like,—legions of caressives and diminutives in the use of which some of the Low German dialects are more lavish even than Lowland Scotch.
In Grimm's great Deutsches Wörterbuch, the synonymy of the word Kind and its semasiology are treated at great length, with a multitude of examples and explanations, useful to students of English, whose dictionaries lag behind in these respects. The child in language is a fertile subject for the linguist and the psychologist, and the field is as yet almost entirely unexplored.