Most Philologists have hitherto held the opinion that, in general, no satisfactory account can be given of the origin of language. They can trace a word from one language to another, and can account for its various forms and changes by laws now generally understood; but they confess their inability to explain what determined the original form of its root. They take that original form for granted, as a sort of intuitive truth which must be admitted as a necessity. They can explain the circumstances of its career; but of its first cause or nature they profess to understand little or nothing.
But though this is the general opinion, all linguists admit that in every language certain words, more especially those that convey ideas of sound, are formed on the principle of onomatopœia; i.e. an attempt to make the pronunciation conform to the sound. Such English words as ‘hiss,’ ‘roar,’ ‘bang,’ ‘buzz,’ ‘crash,’ &c., are of this class. One can hardly pronounce these words without, in some sense, performing the acts which they represent.
One school of linguists have lately expressed a belief that all words were formed on this principle. A very curious illustration of this view is given in Mr. Wedgwood’s ‘Origin of Language.’ Explaining the interjection Hem, he says, it was originally an attempt to stop some one. We are supposed to be walking behind some person; we wish to stop him, and we exclaim, ‘Hem!’ This is given as the primary meaning of the word. ‘The sound is here an echo to the sense.’ But hem is used in other ways; either as a noun, or a verb; always, however, retaining its original idea of restricting, or keeping back. The hem of a garment is what prevents the thread from ravelling. Again, soldiers are sometimes hemmed in by the enemy; that is, prevented from using their free will to go where they choose. This illustration is intended to prove that the principle of onomatopœia applies not only to words that represent sound, but, by analogy, to other meanings derived from that principle. There is sound implied in the interjection hem; though in the noun and the verb, both derived from that interjection, no idea of sound is conveyed.
This connection between sound and sense is certainly a natural principle; and however scornfully it may have been ridiculed by some philosophers, it has undoubtedly produced many very fine passages in the poetry of both ancient and modern times.
1. The chorus of frogs in Aristophanes, where their croaking is represented by words invented for the occasion:
Βρεκεκεξ, κοαξ, κοαξ.
This is, to say the least of it, very ingenious, and, in its way, beautiful, because true.
2. The same principle seems to apply in the πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης (poluphloisboio thalassēs) of Homer, where the first word was probably intended to represent the roaring of the wave mounting on the sea-shore; and the second, the hissing sound which accompanies a receding billow.
3. Another example of onomatopœia, in Virgil’s Æneid, viii. 452, has been often quoted:
‘Quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum;’
where the succession of dactyls is admirably adapted to represent the sound of the hoofs of a galloping horse.
4. Several examples of the same figure may be found in Milton. Describing the thronging of the fallen angels in Pandemonium:
Thick swarmed, both on the ground and in the air,
Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings.
5. Also, speaking of the gates of hell:
... open fly
Th’ infernal doors; and on their hinges grates
Harsh thunder ...
Here the recurrence of the letter r is well calculated to convey the idea of a harsh, creaking, grating sound.
6. A similar effect is produced in Tasso’s ‘Gerusalemme Liberata.’
Il rauco son della Tartarea tromba.
This connection between sound and sense may very probably exist in many words where we now fail to perceive it; but in the present state of our knowledge of the subject, we can hardly pronounce positively in favour of this view as applied to the whole body of a language. The question remains, for the present, in abeyance.
But setting aside the origin of words, it is not difficult to show the affinity which many springing from the same root have for each other. There are in English, as in other languages, hundreds of words which may be said to have a family connection, and which are traceable to one common origin, or root. This connection may be found in the Saxon as well as the Romance part of our language. Th (soft) may be considered as the type of the idea of demonstration. All the English pronouns and adverbs beginning with these letters have that general meaning, which may be seen in ‘that,’ ‘the,’ ‘there,’ ‘thence,’ ‘this,’ ‘thither,’ ‘those,’ ‘thus,’ and others. Again, the initial wh may be considered as the type of an interrogative, or relative meaning. This also may be seen in many English pronouns and adverbs; as in ‘what,’ ‘when,’ ‘whence,’ ‘where,’ ‘whither,’ ‘who,’ ‘whom,’ ‘whose,’ &c. The principle of inversion has affected the whole of this class of words. They are all of Saxon origin, and were spelled in that language hw, and not wh; as in ‘hwæt’ (what), ‘hwaer’ (where), ‘hwanne’ (when), &c.
Tw.
The Saxon initial tw corresponds with the Romance du. There are many English words having this initial, which convey the idea of ‘two.’ 1. The numeral itself, ‘two’ 2. ‘Twain,’ a now obsolete form of ‘two.’ 3. ‘Twin,’ one of two children born at a birth. 4. ‘Between,’ which is only another form of ‘by twain.’ 5. ‘Twilight,’ i.e. between two lights—daylight and lamplight. 6. ‘Twice’ is equivalent to ‘two’ times. 7. To ‘twist’ is to bend two or more threads together. 8. To ‘twine’ is to interlace, so as to form one body out of two. And 9. A ‘twig’ is so called from its being easily twisted.
It is said that the word ‘nose’ originally signified a promontory—something prominent—and that it is so called from being the prominent feature of the face. This view is supported by its analogy with naze, a headland, and the Scotch ness (as in Inverness), a part of the coast which juts forward. It may be observed that the word meaning ‘nose’ has in most European languages the form N-S-. This may be seen in the Greek νῆσος, an island or promontory; the Latin nasus, the Italian naso, the German Nase, the French nez, and the English nose. Whether this be or be not an onomatopœia one thing is certain, viz. that in English the initial sn (ns inverted) in so many cases expresses nasal action, that it may be taken as a general type of that meaning. This may be found in a multitude of words having that initial, all expressing various actions of the nose. It may be seen in ‘snarl,’ ‘sneer,’ ‘sneeze,’ ‘sniff,’ ‘snore,’ ‘snort,’ ‘snooze,’ ‘snout,’ ‘snub,’ ‘snuff,’ &c.
Ber-an—to bear.
This is the source of our English verb ‘to bear.’ It produces the following:—1. ‘Barrow,’ an implement used for carrying or bearing. 2. ‘Berth,’ a place in which one is borne. 3. ‘Bier,’ a coffin in which a corpse is borne to the grave. 4. ‘Birth,’ the bearing of a child. 5. ‘Berry,’ the fruit which a tree bears.
Bles-an—to blow.
From this verb we have, 1. ‘Blaze,’ a strong flame blown forth. 2. ‘Blast,’ a violent blowing, or gust of wind. 3. ‘Blain,’ a boil, or blowing up of the flesh. 4. ‘Blight,’ injury done to corn, &c., from being blasted. 5. ‘Blister,’ a blowing, or rising, up of the skin. 6. ‘Blossom’ (or ‘bloom’), the blowing forth of the flower. 7. ‘Blush,’ a blowing forth of the blood. 8. ‘Bluster,’ as the wind when blowing hard.
Brecc-an—to break.
1. The English verb ‘to break’ is directly from the above. 2. ‘Bridge,’ a building which breaks a passage across a river, &c. 3. ‘Breach,’ that part of a wall or fortification broken into by artillery. 4. To ‘broach’ a cask of ale is to break into it. 5. A ‘brook’ is a stream of water which breaks its way across the country.
Bug-an—to bend.
1. A ‘bay’ is a bending in of the line of coast. 2. In sailors’ language, a ‘bight’ is the hollow part of a bay, or a coil of rope bent round. 3. A ‘bow’ is so called from its being bent. 4. To make a ‘bow’ is to bend the body. 5. ‘Beam’ (compare the German ‘Baum’) is so named from its property of bending. 6. A ‘bough’ is the part of the tree that easily bends. 7. A ‘bower’ is made of branches bowed or bent down. 8. The adjective ‘buxom’ (compare the German ‘biegsam’) is properly bending or pliable. 9. ‘Elbow’ is the bow of the ell, or that part where the arm bends. ‘Big’ and ‘bag’ are probably from the same source; they both convey the idea of something bent round.
Ceap-ān—to exchange.
The essence of buying and selling lies in the exchange of goods for money, or money for goods. Hence come 1. the English word ‘chapman’ (sometimes contracted into chap), which properly means a buyer and seller. 2. To ‘chaffer’ is to bargain about a purchase. 3. ‘Cheap,’ bearing a low price, refers to a similar transaction. 4. We have also ‘Cheapside’ and ‘Eastcheap,’ originally markets, or places for buying and selling. 5. Chepstow, Chipping Norton, and other names of market-towns in England, are from the same root. 6. The wind is said to chop when it changes from one point of the compass to another.
Ceaw-an—to chew.
1. The older form of ‘chew’ was ‘chaw,’ which we still occasionally hear in ‘chaw-bacon.’ 2. The cud is the grass chewed by ruminating animals. 3. A quid of tobacco is a piece kept in the mouth to be chewed.
Dael-an—to divide.
1. To ‘deal’ is from the above verb. It is used in English in a variety of senses, all containing the idea of dividing into parts. 2. A certain sort of wood is called ‘deal’ from being easily divided, or cut into planks. 3. To ‘deal’ cards is to divide them into packets or parcels. 4. Tradesmen ‘deal’ in certain articles when they sell them in small, divided quantities. 5. We also say ‘a great deal,’ speaking of a large part divided from the mass. [‘Some-deal’ was formerly said, but it is now obsolete.] 6. A ‘dole’ is a small part or share dealt out. (Compare the German ‘theilen.’)
Dic-ian—to dig.
From this Saxon verb we have, 1. To ‘dig.’ 2. ‘Dike,’ a mound of earth ‘dug’ out. 3. ‘Ditch,’ a line ‘dug.’ 4. ‘Dagger,’ an instrument used for ‘digging;’ and 5. ‘Dock,’ a place ‘dug’ out on the side of a harbour or bank of a river, where ships are repaired.
Drag-an—to draw.
This Saxon verb gives the English ‘to draw.’ From this we have, 1. ‘Dray,’ a heavy cart drawn along. 2. A ‘drain,’ a tube to draw off water. 3. A ‘draft,’ an order to draw out money from a bank. 4. A ‘draught’ is a quantity of liquid drawn into the mouth. 5. To ‘drawl’ is to drag on the voice heavily. 6. ‘Drudge,’ and 7. ‘Dredge’ (for oysters, &c.); both which express a dragging or drawing. (Compare the German ‘tragen’ and the Latin ‘trahere.’)
Dropi-an—to drop.
From this root comes 1. The verb ‘to drop.’ 2. To ‘droop,’ i.e. to lean downwards. 3. To ‘drip,’ or fall continually. 4. To ‘dribble,’ or to fall in small ‘drops.’ 5. A ‘driblet,’ or a very small drop.
Eri-an—to till.
1. To ‘ear,’ in the sense of ‘to plough,’ is now obsolete in English, though we have an ‘ear,’ or spike, of corn—the result of tilling; and 3. ‘Earth,’ that which is tilled or cultivated.
Far-an—to journey.
1. From this verb (German ‘fahren’) comes our verb to ‘fare;’ literally, to go on, or make a journey. 2. The adverbs ‘fore,’ ‘forth,’ and ‘far’ convey a similar idea; viz. that of onward movement. 3. The ‘ford’ of a river is that point at which it can be ‘fared,’ or crossed; and 4. To ‘ferry’ is the act of faring, or passing across a river or lake. 5. ‘Frith’ and ‘firth’ are formed on the same principle; they are those parts of the sea where one can be ferried across. 6. The first syllable (fur) in the word ‘furlough’ belongs to this family. It is leave (lough) granted to a soldier to ‘fare,’ or journey, home for a time. All these forms are devices to explain a variety of modes of faring, or moving onwards.
Fed-an—to feed.
This gives us, 1. To ‘feed.’ 2. ‘Fat,’ the result of being well ‘fed.’ 3. ‘Fodder,’ provision for cattle; and, 4. ‘Food,’ that which ‘feeds,’ or supplies nourishment.
Fi-an—to hate.
From this verb we have in English—1. A ‘fiend,’ one who hates. 2. Hence also comes ‘foe,’ an enemy, or one hated. 3. To the same root may be traced ‘fie!’ an interjection expressing dislike or hatred; 4. and also ‘foh!’ or ‘faugh!’ an exclamation of disgust.
Fleaw-an—to flow.
Hence come, 1. ‘To flow.’ 2. ‘Fleet;’ a number of ships that ‘flow,’ or swim, on the water. 3. The adjective ‘fleet,’ qualifying what flows by. 4. To ‘float,’ or swim, on the water; and, 5. ‘Flood,’ a large flow of water.
Fuli-an—to make dirty.
From this root come, 1. ‘Foul’ (putrid, offensive). 2. To ‘defile;’ to make ‘foul.’ 3. The noun ‘filth,’ dirt. 4. The adjective ‘filthy;’ and 5. ‘Fulsome;’ full of filth, nauseous, disgusting.
G-an—to go.
1. ‘Gan’ is the Saxon verb whence the English ‘to go’ is derived. 2. This gives us ‘gait,’ i.e. a manner of ‘going;’ and, 3. ‘Gate,’ a door through which one ‘goes.’ To these may be added 4. ‘Gang,’ a number of people ‘going’ together; and, 5. the nautical term ‘gang-way,’ i.e. a passage ‘to go’ through. 6. The verb ‘to gad,’ i.e. to be continually ‘going’ from one place to another, also probably belongs to this family.
Glowi-an—to burn.
The verb ‘to low,’ in the sense of ‘to burn,’ does not now exist in the language; but the above verb gives us, 1. To ‘glow,’ i.e. to burn intensely; whence come the forms, 2. ‘Gleam;’ 3. ‘Glimmer;’ and, 4. ‘Glimpse;’ 5. ‘Gloom,’ or a state into which light ‘gleams;’ and, 6. the word ‘light,’ which is a participial form of the old verb to ‘low.’ In one English word the root ‘low’ is still retained, viz. ‘whitlow,’ a painful white burning on the finger or thumb.
Graf-an—to dig.
From this verb we have in English, 1. ‘Grave,’ a pit dug. 2. To ‘engrave,’ i.e. to scratch or dig in. 3. ‘Groove,’ a line dug in. 4. ‘Gravel,’ earth dug up. 5. To ‘grovel,’ literally, to dig up earth; and, 6. To ‘grub,’ or scratch into the earth.
Gyrd-an—to enclose.
The English words derived from ‘gyrdan,’ and having a cognate meaning are, 1. To ‘gird,’ to enclose by tying round. 2. ‘Girdle,’ a small band or cincture. 3. ‘Girth,’ the band which ‘girds’ the saddle on a horse. 4. ‘Garter,’ a band tied round the leg; and, 5. ‘Garden,’ a space enclosed for the cultivation of fruit, vegetables, &c.
Lang—long.
From the Anglo-Saxon and German ‘lang’ is derived, 1. our adjective ‘long;’ from which again comes, 2. the abstract noun ‘length.’ 3. The adjective, ‘lean;’ and 4. ‘lanky’ are also members of this family. 5. To ‘linger,’ i.e. to remain a long time in a place. 6. To ‘lunge;’ to make a long stroke with a rapier; and, 7. A ‘link,’ that which makes a chain ‘longer.’
Lecj-an—to lay.
1. Both the English verbs ‘lay’ and ‘lie’ (which is to lay oneself down) come from this verb, 2. ‘Ledge,’ a place on which to lay anything; 3. ‘Ledger,’ a book which lies on a merchant’s desk; and, 4. ‘Law,’ a rule laid down.
Læd-an—to lead.
1. Besides the verb ‘to lead,’ we have from this source: 2. ‘Ladder,’ an instrument which leads to a higher place. 3. Load-star, and loadstone, i.e. a leading star or stone.
(H)lifi-an—to lift.
This is the source of, 1. our verb to ‘lift.’ Also, 2. ‘Loft,’ i.e. a room ‘lifted’ high. 3. The adverb ‘aloft’—‘lifted up.’ 4. ‘Aloof;’ and 5. The adjective ‘lofty.’
Maw-an—to cut down.
From the Saxon root ‘maw’ comes immediately 1. Our verb to ‘mow,’—as well as a ‘mow’ (a barley-mow or a hay-mow); i.e. a quantity of barley or hay mown and heaped together. From this is derived, 2. ‘Mead,’ i.e. a mowed field; and, 3. Meadow, a large mead. 4. Farmers still use the word aftermath, which, with them, is a second mowing. 5, The now obsolete ‘mo’ or ‘moe,’ as used in the sense of a collected quantity or heap by Chaucer and other writers down to Lord Surrey, is said to give us the words ‘more’ and ‘most’ as the comparative and superlative forms of ‘mo;’ but this is doubted by many etymologists.
Pocca—a bag.
There are several English derivatives from this root. 1. We find it in the word ‘smallpox’ (or pocks), where it means little bags or holes left in the skin by the action of this disease. 2. We once had the word ‘poke’ in the sense of ‘a bag,’ as in the phrase ‘to buy a pig in a poke.’ 3. ‘Pocket’ is a diminutive of poke, i.e. a little bag. 4. To ‘poach;’ and 5. ‘Pouch’ are variations of the same root; for to ‘poach’ is to steal game and conceal it in a ‘pouch.’ 5. A ‘peck,’ and 6. a ‘pack’ are both generic terms of a similar meaning; and, 7. ‘Puckered’ cheeks are bagged or puffed out with the cold.
Scuf-ian—to push.
This root is a fertile source of English words; we find it, 1. in our now not very elegant word ‘shove,’ that is, to push rudely or roughly. 2. A ‘sheaf’ of corn takes its name from the stalks of which it is composed being ‘shoved,’ or pushed up together; and, 3. the ‘shaft’ of a javelin is the wooden part which is ‘shoved’ into the iron. 4. A ‘shovel’ is a small instrument used to ‘shove,’ or push into, coals, etc.; and, 5. our ‘shoes’ are so called because we ‘shove’ our feet into them. 6. ‘Scuffle’ and ‘shuffle’ are only modified forms of the verb ‘to shove,’ and express a repetition of that act. According to some etymologists the word ‘sheep’ belongs to this family, as being an animal ‘shoved’ or pushed along in flocks from place to place. Hence, perhaps, the name; but this must be considered a doubtful derivation.
Scyr-an—to cut.
From this Saxon verb come, 1. To ‘shear’ and the noun ‘shears.’ 2. A ‘share’ of anything means, properly, a part ‘cut’ off, or divided from the whole substance; and a ‘ploughshare’ is that part of the implement which ‘cuts’ through the earth. 3. Common experience tells us that the adjective ‘sharp’ qualifies what easily cuts or divides. 4. A ‘shire’ signifies a district cut off or divided from the rest of the country; and ‘sheriff’ is a contraction of ‘shire-reeve,’ i.e. the officer of the ‘shire.’ 5. ‘Shirt’ and, 6. ‘Short’ both belong to the same class; the first is a garment ‘cut’ off, and the second is a participle from the verb ‘to shore’ or divide, the noun ‘shore’ meaning the line which ‘divides’ the sea from the land. From the same root comes, 7. ‘Sheer.’ Sheer impudence and sheer nonsense mean impudence and nonsense unqualified, i.e. ‘divided’ or cut off from any modesty and sense. Besides the above, we have the same general idea in the expression, 8. ‘Shreds’ and patches, little snippings or ‘cuttings.’ 9. Shakspere’s ‘shard-borne’ beetle means the beetle borne on his ‘shards,’ or scaly wings divided in the middle. 10. To these we may add ‘potsherd,’ a piece broken off or divided from a pot. The words ‘scar,’ ‘score,’ ‘scream,’ ‘screech,’ ‘shrill,’ ‘shriek,’ &c., belong to the same class, the leading idea in them all being that of cutting or dividing; and they are all based upon the type ‘scr’ or ‘shr.’
Sitt-an—to sit.
1. This is the origin of our word to ‘sit;’ whence comes, 2. To ‘set.’ The latter is the transitive from the intransitive, formed by a change of the vowel. 3. ‘Settle’ is a frequentative of ‘sit,’ and expresses a permanent sitting. 4. A ‘seat’ is from the same root; it is that on which any one ‘sits;’ and, 5. A ‘saddle’ is a seat on horseback.
Sleaw—slow.
1. From the Anglo-Saxon ‘Sleaw’ comes our adjective ‘slow.’ Hence we have, 2. ‘Sloth,’ or the quality of being slow; 3. ‘Sloven’ (m.) and ‘slut’ (f.), which both convey the idea of being slow and negligent; 4. ‘Slug,’ a slow animal, from which comes the verb ‘to slug,’ to indulge in sloth; and, 7. ‘Sluggard,’ a lazy indolent man.
Stig-an—to mount.
This root gives us, 1. ‘Stair,’ a step to mount by; 2. ‘Stile’ (A.-S. Stigel), a gate to be mounted or got over; 3. ‘Stirrup’ (or stig-rope), a rope by which to mount; and, 4. ‘Stye,’ i.e. a rising pustule on the eyelid.
Straeg-an—to spread.
From the A.-S. root ‘straeg’ we have the English words ‘straw’ and ‘strew.’ 1. ‘Straw’ is the dry stalks of certain plants ‘strewn’ or scattered about. 2. To ‘stray’ means to go dispersedly or separately. 3. ‘Straggle’ is a frequentative of the last word. 4. The word ‘street’ is by some supposed to be connected with this root. A ‘street’ is a way ‘strewn’ or paved with stones.
Taepp-an—to draw drink.
Hence we have in English, 1. ‘To tap,’ and, 2. A ‘tap,’ the instrument by which wine or beer is drawn from the cask; 3. ‘Tapster,’ one who draws liquor. 4. To ‘tope’ is to ‘tip’ off beer or spirits. 5. A ‘toper’ is one who topes, and to ‘tipple’ is to be continually toping. 6. One who ‘tipples’ is likely to be often ‘tipsy.’
Tell-an—to count.
The ordinary meaning of our English verb ‘to tell’ is to recount the particulars of some event or occurrence. Hence comes a ‘tale,’ which signifies the recounting of such particulars. The passage in Milton’s ‘L’Allegro’—
Every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale—
has been explained as ‘every shepherd counts over his sheep.’ Shakspere has, ‘as thick as tale came post with post,’ that is, as rapidly as could be counted. From the same root comes ‘till,’ a box into which money is counted. Again, when we speak of ‘tolling’ a bell, a similar meaning is implied, viz. the numbering or counting out the strokes; and a ‘toll’ is money told or counted into the hands of the receiver. Again, accounts are said to ‘tally’ when, after being reckoned or counted up, they amount to the same sum.
Teog-an—to pull.
From this verb come, 1. To ‘tow,’ to pull a boat or vessel along; 2. To ‘tug,’ to pull with force. 3. The noun ‘tow’ means flax which must be ‘tugged,’ or pulled, asunder. 4. The adjective ‘tough,’ which qualifies what must be pulled hard. 5. ‘Team,’ a number of horses pulling together; and, 6. ‘Tight,’ what is ‘towed’ or pulled together with force. 7. The sailor’s phrase ‘to haul taut,’ is ‘to pull tight.’
Wan-ian—to decrease.
1. We still say, ‘the moon waxes and “wanes,”’ i.e. apparently increases and decreases in size. 2. ‘Wan,’ an adjective which expresses thinness or decrease of health. 3. ‘Want’ signifies a condition in which our means are decreased; and, 4. To ‘wean’ is to gradually accustom any one to a ‘want.’
Weg-an—to move.
1. From this come the English ‘way,’ which means the space through which one can ‘move.’ 2. To ‘wag’ (the tongue or the head), i.e. to ‘move’ it rapidly. 3. A waggon (sometimes contracted into ‘wain’) is a vehicle which ‘moves’ goods, &c., from one place to another. 4. To ‘sway’ is the intensive of wag—it is to move strongly; and, 5. ‘Swagger’ is the frequentative of ‘sway.’
Weri-an—to wear.
1. This is the origin of our word ‘to wear,’ in its ordinary sense. 2. From this we have ‘weary,’ the state of being ‘worn’ with fatigue. 3. From the same root come ‘worse’ and ‘worst,’ which are really the comparative and superlative degrees of ‘wear,’ i.e. ‘more worn’ and ‘most worn.’ 4. To ‘worry,’ i.e. to ‘wear out’ by importunity.
Wit-an—to know.
From the root ‘wit’ in this Saxon verb came, in English, 1. The old forms ‘wist’ and ‘wot,’ together with, 2. The modern word ‘wit,’ and the expression, ‘to wit’—all these imply knowledge. 3. We have ‘wise’ (which at first signified knowing much), with its derivative, ‘wisdom.’ 5. ‘Wizard’ and ‘witch’ are both from the same source, and were terms originally applied to those who were supposed to come by their ‘knowledge’ by a compact with the powers of darkness. 6. The word ‘wittingly,’ i.e. of one’s own knowledge; and, 7. A ‘witness,’ or one who tells us what he ‘knows’ about some fact.
Wrid-an—to twist.
This is the source of many English words: 1. To ‘writhe,’ or twist the body in pain. 2. ‘Wrath.’ When in ‘wrath,’ one is ‘writhed’ or tortured by angry passion. 3. ‘Wry’ and ‘awry,’ i.e. ‘twisted’ on one side. 4. To ‘wring’ the hands is to ‘twist’ them convulsively. 5. ‘Wrong’ properly means ‘wrung,’ or twisted out of the right path. 6. ‘Wrangle’ denotes a continual distortion or perversity; and, 7. To ‘wriggle’ is the frequentative of ‘to wring;’ it means to twist about repeatedly. Beside these, we have, 8. The wrist, i.e. the joint which ‘twists’ or turns easily; and, 9. To ‘wrest’ and ‘wrestle.’ 10. To ‘wrench.’ These are all modes of twisting. 11. To ‘wreathe’ is to twist or twine together, and, 13. A ‘wrinkle’ denotes a distortion of a smooth surface.