In German, on the other hand, it is common, when the predicate is plural, to put the copula in the same number; as, das sind zwei verschiedene dinge = ‘That are two different things.’ Other languages have corresponding usages; thus, in Modern Greek, Ἔπρεπε νὰ ἦναι τέσσαρα, ‘There behoves to be four.’ In Old Greek we find Τὸ χωρίον τοῦτο, ὅπερ πρότερον Ἑννέα ὁδοὶ εκαλοῦντο, ‘This spot which were before called the nine ways’ (Thuc., iv. 102); and in French we find such expressions as Ce sont des bêtises, ‘This are stupidities.’ Even in English we find such phrases as ‘Their haunt are the deep gorges of the mountains.’172 The usage seems due to the fact that the plural makes itself more characteristically felt than the singular. On the other hand, in several languages the converse usage is possible; i.e. the copula in the singular stands with a plural subject and before a singular predicate: as, in Greek, Αἵ χορηγίαι ἱκανὸν εὐδαιμονίας σημεῖον ἐστι, ‘The services is a sufficient token of prosperity:’ in Latin—Loca quæ Numidia appellatur (Sallust), ‘Places which is called Numidia;’ Quas geritis vestes sordida lana fuit (Ovid, Ars Am., iii. 222), ‘The clothes you wear was dirty wool:’ in English—Two paces in the vilest earth is room enough (Shakespeare, 1 Hen. IV., V. iv. 91); Forty yards is room enough (Sheridan, Rivals, v. 2). We also find the curious instance of ‘Sham heroes, what are called quacks’ (Carlyle, Past and Present, ii. 7): in Spanish we have Los encamisados era gente medrosa, ‘The highwaymen (lit. ‘shirtclad’) was a cowardly lot’ (Cervantes).

Similarly, we find in the person of the verb a corresponding usage: It was you; Is that they? in French—C’est moi (‘It is I’); C’est nous (‘It is we’); C’est vous (‘It is you’): in Old French it was possible to say C’est eux (‘It is they’). On the other hand, in Modern German we find such forms as Das waren sie (‘That were you’); Sind sie das (‘Are you that’): and in Old French, Ce ne suis je pas = ‘This no am I (at-all);’ C’estez vous (‘This are you’); but C’ont été (‘This they have been’); Ce furent les Phéniciens qui inventèrent l’écriture (Bossuet), ‘It were (3rd plur.) the Phenicians who invented writing.’

In sentences beginning in English with there, and in French with the (neut.) il, we find that commonly in English the verb agrees in number with the subject which follows it, whilst in French it agrees with the pronoun il, as Il est des gens de bien (‘There is good people’); Rarement il arrive des révolutions (‘Rarely there happens revolutions’). In English we more commonly find the plural; cf. Mätzner, vol. ii., p. 106—There were many found to deny it: but we also find There is no more such Cæsars (Shakespeare, Cymb., III. i.).173

A participle employed as a predicate or copula may agree with the predicatival substantive instead of the subject; as, Πάντα διήγησις οὖσα τυγχάνει (Plato, Rep., 392 D), ‘Everything happens to be an explanation,’ where the part. οὖσα (lit. ‘being’) agrees with διήγησις (‘explanation’); Paupertas mihi onus visum (Terence, Phorm., I. ii. 44), ‘Poverty (fem.) to me a burden (neut.) seemed (neut. part.)’ = ‘Poverty seemed to me a burden;’ Nisi honos ignominia putanda est (Cicero, pro Balb., 3), ‘Unless honour (masc.) is to be thought (fem.) shame (fem.).’ On the other hand, we find Semiramis puer esse credita est (Justin, i. 2) = ‘Semiramis was thought to be a boy,’ where the part. credita (‘thought’) takes its gender from Semiramis, and not from puer.

The predicate, again, which would naturally follow the subject, may follow some apposition of the subject: as, Θήβαι, πόλις ἀστυγέιτων, ἐκ μέσης τῆς Ἑλλάδος ἀνήρπασται (Æschines v. Ctes., 133 ), ‘Thebes (plur.) a neighbouring city, is torn from the centre of Greece;’ Latin—Corinthum totius Græciæ lumen extinctum esse voluerunt (Cicero, Leg. Man., 5), ‘Corinth (fem.), the light of all Greece, they wished to be extinguished (neut.).’ Again, though the subject is plural, we find the verb agreeing with its distributival apposition, and placed in the singular; as, Pictores et poetæ, suum quisque opus a vulgo considerari vult (Cic., de Offic., i. 41), ‘Painters and poets each wishes that his work should be examined by the public.’

The construction is more striking still in which the predicate is made to agree with a noun compared with the subject (1) in gender—as, Magis pedes quam arma tuta sunt (Sallust, Jugurtha, 74174) = ‘Feet (masc.) are safer (neut.) than arms (neut.):’ (2) in number—Me non tantum literæ, quantum longinquitas temporis mitigavit (Cicero, Fam., vi. 4) = ‘Me not so much letters as length of time has comforted:’ (3) in gender and number—as, Quand on est jeunes, riches, et jolies, comme vous, mesdames, on n’en est pas réduites à l’artifice (Diderot), ‘When one (sing.) is young, rich, and pretty, (fem. plur.) as you are, ladies, one (sing.) is not reduced (fem. plur.) to artifice:’ (4) in person and number—as, Ἡ τύχη ἀεὶ βέλτιον ἢ ἡμεὶς ἡμῶν αὐτῶν ἐπιμελούμεθα (Demosthenes, Phil., I. 12), ‘Fortune always for us more than we care for ourselves.’ In English we meet with many sentences like ‘Sully bought of Monsieur de la Roche Guzon one of the finest horses that was ever seen.’ The concord of the predicate with a second subject connected with the words and not is also curious; as, Heaven, and not we, have safely fought to-day (Shakespeare, 2 Hen. IV., IV. ii.).175

In Greek, an apposition separated from the noun by a relative sentence may follow the relative pronoun in case; as, Κύκλωπος κεχόλωται, ὃν οφθάλμου ἀλάωσεν, ἀντίθεον Πολύφημον (Hom., Od., i. 69), ‘He is wrath with the Cyclops (gen.) whom (acc.) he deprived of an eye, the divine Polyphemus (acc.).’

A demonstrative or relative, instead of following the substantive to which it refers, may follow a noun predicated of it; as, in Latin, Leucade sunt hæc decreta; id caput Arcadiæ erat (Livy, xxxiii. 17), ‘These things were decreed at Leucas (fem.); that (neut.) in the capital (neut.) of Arcadia;’ Thebæ quod Bœotiæ caput est, ‘Thebes (fem. plur.) which (neut.) is the capital (neut.) of Bœotia;’ Φόβος ἣν αἰδὼ εἴπομεν (Plat.), ‘Fear (masc.) which (fem.) we call modesty (fem.).’

A relative pronoun logically referring to an impersonal indefinite subject usually follows the definite predicate belonging to that subject; and, of course, the predicate of the pronoun does the same. Thus we have to say ‘It was a man who told me,’ and not ‘It was a man which told me:’ ‘It is the lord Chancellor whose decision is questioned.’ It is the same in German and in French; as, C’est eux qui ont bâti (‘It is they who have built’). In French, too, the person of the verb in the relative sentence follows the definite predicate, as C’est moi seul qui suis coupable (‘It is I alone who am guilty’); and it is the same in English—‘It is I who am in fault.’ On the other hand, in N.H.G. the use is to say Du bist es, der mich gerettet hat, ‘Thou art it who me saved has,’ = ‘It is thou that (who) hast saved me.’

In a relative sentence, the verb connected with the subject of the governing sentence goes into the first or second person, even though the relative pronoun belongs to the predicate, and the third person would strictly be natural: cf. Non sum ego is consul qui nefas arbitrer Gracchos laudare = ‘I am not such a consul who should think (1st pers.) it base to praise the Gracchi’ (Cicero); Neque tu is es qui nescias = ‘Nor are you he who would ignore’ (2nd pers.), i.e. ‘Nor are you such a one as to ignore.’

In English, this construction is very common; as, ‘If thou beest he: but O how fall’n! how changed From him, who in the happy realms of light didst outshine myriads’ (Milton, Par. Lost, bk. i., 84, 85); ‘I am the person who have had’ (Goldsmith, Good-nat. Man, iii.). This construction was common in Anglo-Saxon; as, Secga œnigum ðâra ðe tirleâses trôde sceawode = ‘Of the men to any of those (plur.) who of the inglorious the track looked at (sing.)’ + ‘To any of the men who looked at the track (of the) inglorious (man)’ (Beowulf, 844).

So in French—JŹlthe d’ epi psychê Thêbaiou Teiresiao chryseon skêptron echōne suis l’homme qui accouchai d’un œuf (Voltaire), ‘I am the man who laid (1st. pers.) an egg’; Je suis l’individu qui ai fait le crime, ‘I am the person who have done the crime;’ and Italian—Io sono colui chi ho fatto, ‘I am he who have done.’

The predicate or attribute, instead of agreeing with the subject, or with the word which it serves to define, may agree with a genitive dependent on that subject; as, Ἦλθε δ’ ἐπί ψυχή Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο χρύσεον σκῆπτρον ἔχων (Homer, Od., xi. 90), ‘The soul (fem.) of the Theban Teresias (masc.) came having (masc.) a golden sceptre.’ In English we find ‘There are eleven days’ journey from Horeb unto Kadesh-barnea’ (Deut. i. 2).

In French it is customary to say La plupart de ses amis l’abandonnèrent, ‘The most part of his friends abandoned (plur.) him;’ but La plupart du peuple voulait, ‘The most part of the people wished (sing.):’ in the former case the quantity of individuals is regarded; in the latter the people are looked upon as a totality divided.

The attribute sometimes in Latin and Greek, referring to the person addressed, appears in the vocative: as, Quibus Hector ab oris Expectate venis? (Vergil, Æn., ii. 282), ‘From what shores, Hector, O long expected, dost come?’ Stemmate quod Tusco ramum millesime ducis (Persius, iii. 28), ‘Because thou, O thousandth, dost draw thy lineage from an Etruscan tree.’ Thus, in Greek, Ὄλβιε, κῶρε, γένοιο (Theocr., Id., xvii. 66), ‘Mayst thou be happy, O boy,’ lit. ‘O happy, O boy, mayst thou be!’

Such examples as these may aid us to understand the way in which concord has spread beyond the area to which it strictly belonged. And we may gather from these some idea of the way in which this process grew up in prehistorical times. We must remember, however, that concord was not felt so indispensable in the earliest stages of language, because absolute forms without inflectional suffixes were then the rule.

The question now comes, What were the rudiments from which concord proceeded? We must suppose that a period once existed in which substantives coalesced with the stem of the verb, and in which pronouns could precede the stem, just as our actual verbal inflections seem to owe their origin in many cases to the coalition of pronouns with the stem. We must therefore suppose that, just as it was possible to say Διδω-μι (‘Give I’), so it was possible to say ‘Go father,’ ‘Father go’ (for ‘Father goes’); and ‘I go,’ just as it was possible to say ‘Go I,’ ‘Go thou,’ ‘Go he’ (instead of ‘I go,’ etc.). There are actually some non-Indo-European languages in which the third person singular differs from the other persons by dispensing with any suffix. Such is Hungarian,176 in which the root ‘fog,’ ‘seize,’ is thus declined—fog-ok, fogo-s, fog. Here, then, the original plan maintains itself, of coalition according to the formula ‘Go-father,’ or ‘Father-go.’ In the next stage, the subject is repeated, as, when we say Ἔγω δίδωμι, we are really saying ‘I give I.’ This process is very common in some modern languages, especially in poetry, when emphasis is to be given to the subject: as, The night it was still, and the moon it shone (Kirke White, Gondoline);177 The skipper he stood beside the helm (Longfellow): Je le sais, moi; Il ne voulut pas, lui; Toi, tu vivras vil et malheureux,—‘I know it, I;’ ‘He would not, he;’ ‘Thou, thou shalt live vile and wretched.’ Similar is the anticipation of the subject by an indefinite il; as, Il suffisait un mot, ‘There sufficed a word.’ The pronoun was originally doubled only where it was specially emphasised, just as in uneducated conversation at the present day we hear such forms as I says, says I. But such pronominal reduplication must have spread, and have affected the verbal forms when they were completely formed, just as it, at an earlier period, affected the tense-stems. It is, however, by this time so far forgotten that the termination of such a word as legit represents a personal pronoun, that its most common use is to indicate its relationship with the subject by mere concord; as Pater legit, lit. ‘Father read—he,’ i.e. ‘father reads.’ In fact, the personal endings at the present day merely serve to mark the verb as such, and sometimes to express the difference between different moods.

In the case of nouns, the concord of gender and number, at any rate, is first formed in the pronoun to which reference is made, to which gender, too, owes its origin, as in such cases as illæ mulieres, ‘those women (nom.);’ illas mulieres (acc.).

Concord in case appears first in apposition; as, Imperatoris Cæsaris exercitus, ‘The army of Cæsar (gen.) the commander (gen.),’ where it serves to show that both nouns have the same relation to exercitus. But here there is no more actual necessity for employing the case-ending twice, than there is for repeating the pronominal suffix in the case of the verb. This we may see in such cases as King Arthur’s seat; La gloire de la nation française, ‘The glory of the French nation.’ A concord in gender and number occurs, even at the present day, only where it is demanded by the nature of the case; as, La dame sur le visage de laquelle les grâces étaient peintes (Fénelon), ‘The lady on the face of whom the graces were painted.’

The concord of substantives in apposition having been the first to form itself—as in Cæsaris imperatoris Romani, ‘Of Cæsar (gen.) the Roman-commander (gen.)’—we must suppose the concord of the attributival and predicatival adjective to have been modelled upon that use; as, Cæsaris domini potentis, ‘Of Cæsar (gen.) the powerful master (gen.),’ or Cæsaris invicti, ‘Of Cæsar (gen.) unconquered (gen.).’ In other words, their origin reaches back to a time when the adjective still occupied the same category as the substantive, and was not yet thought of as occupying a category of its own. The transition is marked by such substantives as are called, in Latin grammars, Mobilia, which in the forms of their genders resemble adjectives. Such as coquus, ‘cook’ (masc.); coqua, ‘cook’ (fem.): dominus, ‘lord;’ domina, ‘lady:’ rex, ‘king;’ regina, ‘queen.’ As these substantives passed into adjectives, they maintained the concord, and it then came to be regarded as of the essence of the adjective.

CHAPTER XVIII.
ECONOMY OF EXPRESSION.

Language, as a rule, employs no more material than is necessary to make the hearer or reader understand the meaning intended to be conveyed by the speaker or writer. This statement must be taken merely generally, for it admits of many exceptions. But, as a rule, language, like a careful housewife, husbands its resources, and tends rather to economy than to lavishness in their employment. Everywhere in language we meet with forms of expression which contain just so much as is needed to make the employer of language understood, and no more. In fact, the supply offered by language depends on the demand, and on this alone. A gesticulation may supply the place of a sentence; a nod, a frown, a smile may speak as plainly as any words. Much, too, must depend upon the situation: on the relations of the speakers to each other; their knowledge of what is passing in each other’s minds; and their common sentiments with regard to the subject discussed. If we consider a form of expression which shall convey a thought under all possible conditions to any possible hearer as the only correct standard, and measure all other forms with that standard, then all these will appear imperfect, or, as grammarians would say, elliptical.

Practically, however, ellipse should be assumed in a minimum of cases, and each form of expression should be referred to its origin. Otherwise, we must be content to regard ellipse as an essential part of language; in fact, we shall have to regard language as habitually containing less than ought rightly to be expressed, and hence we should have to regard most expressions as elliptical.

We will consider first the cases in which a word or phrase is said to be supplied from what precedes or what follows. It hardly seems that we are justified in using the word supplied. Take such a sentence as Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead? (Rich. II., III. ii. 14). We can hardly contend that in the perfectly expressed sentence we should have to supply dead after Bushy, Green, and the Earl, etc. Again, in such a sentence as He saw me and grew pale, it seems unnecessary to supply he with grew pale; nor in such a combination as in fear and hope need we supply in before hope merely because we can also say in fear and in hope. It seems more correct to drop the notion of supplying, and to think of single positing with plural reference—regarding what usually is called a sentence, not as an independent self-contained integer, but as a link in a continuous series.

It is common to assume an ellipse in such cases as ‘the German and French languages,’ and still more in the form ‘the German language and the French.’ But we have really here a pair of elements standing in the same relation to a third. That this is so, we see by the fact that there are other languages in which the two elements are really treated as a unity and attached as such to the third, which then becomes strictly speaking the second. This is shown by the use of the plural. We say, for instance, in Latin—quarta et Martia legiones (Brut. apud Cicero, ad Fam., ii. 19), ‘the fourth (sing.) and the Martian (sing.) legions (plur.),’ beside legio Martia quartaque, ‘the legion Martian and fourth’ (both in Cicero); Falernum et Capuanum agros, ‘the Falernian (sing.) and Capuan (sing.) fields (plur.)’ (Livy, xxii. 15): Italian—le lingue Greca e Latina, ‘the languages Greek (sing.) and Latin (sing.),’ besides la lingua Greca e Latina, ‘the language Greek and Latin:’ in French—les langues Française et Allemande:—so, the fourth and fifth regiments; the second and third days.

In the same way, in the case of such sentences as John writes well, James badly, we are prone to assume an ellipse. But that the current assumption of an ellipse cannot be always right is proved by the fact that even in English we sometimes meet with a plural predicate: as, ‘Your sister as well as myself, said Booby, are greatly obliged’ (Fielding, J. Andr., iv. 7); ‘Old Sir John with half a dozen more are at the door,’ (Shakespeare, 1 Henry IV. II. iv.): as against, ‘Ely, with Richmond troubles me’ (Rich. III., IV. iii.); ‘Until her back, as well as sides, was like to crack’ (But., Hud., II. i. 85).178

In Latin, we actually find this construction with the ablative absolute: ille Antiocho, hic Mithridate pulsis, ‘the former when Antiochus, the latter when Mithridates WERE defeated’ (Tacitus); quod tu aut illa queri possitis, ‘what thou or she require could (the verb plural)’ (Tullia, ap. Cicero, ad Fam., iv. 5): cf.— ‘Not the King’s crown nor the deputed sword,
The marshal’s truncheon nor the judge’s robe,
Become them.’
(Shakespeare, Meas. for Meas., II. ii. 60); ‘For there nor yew nor cypress spread their gloom’ (Th. Campbell, Theodoric). So in French—‘Ni l’or ni la grandeur ne nous rendent heureux’ (La Fontaine), ‘Neither gold nor grandeur make us happy:’ and in Latin—‘Erant quibus nec Senatus gloriari nec princeps possent,’ lit. ‘There were (some) of whom neither Senate boast nor the Emperor could (plur.)’ (Plin., Pan., 75).179 This plural has originated from cases where the copulative connection could be substituted without essential alteration of meaning—as, ‘Yew and cypress spread not there their gloom,’—and has thence been extended by analogy. In fact, for the instinct of language, the predicate has been posited once and not twice.

In sentences like ‘I will come and do it,’ ‘Who steals my purse steals trash’ (Othello, III. iii. 157), ‘Who was the thane lives yet’ (Macbeth, I. iii. 109), we have instances of an element common to the principal and subordinate sentence, and also in such sentences as ‘It is thy sovereign speaks to thee,’ a variety of sentences constructed ἀπὸ κοινοῦ. Sometimes also, in German, we find such sentences as Was ich da träumend jauchzt und litt, muss wachend nun erfahren (Goethe), lit. ‘What I there dreaming cheered-at and suffered must waking now experience;’ with which we may compare sentences like Milton’s ‘Thou art my son beloved: in him am pleased,’ and ‘Here’s a young maid with travel much oppressed, and faints for succour’180 (Shakespeare, As You Like It, II. iv. 75). It occurs frequently in dialogue that words of one speaker are not repeated by another, and they are ordinarily described as being supplied. Really, however, dialogue must be regarded as a continuous whole, so that, e.g., the words of one speaker (or their contents) form subject to predicate uttered by the other. Cf.—

If we take a sentence like ‘my relatives and friends,’ the common element my stands at the outset of the whole sentence; it is then nearer indeed to relatives, but is without difficulty referred to friends. But insertion in the second part of the sentence is also possible: cf. ‘It (i.e. love) shall be (too) sparing and too severe’ (Ven. and Adon., 1155), ‘Beggars (sitting) in their stocks refuge their shame that (i.e. because) many have (sat) and many must sit there’ (Rich. II., V. v. 27); ‘of such dainty and such picking grievances’ (2 Hen. IV., IV. i. 198).181 In this case, the first portion of the sentence remains incomplete until the common element has been spoken or written; and this serves to complete the first and the second part of the sentence simultaneously.

Sometimes the common element stands in different relations to the two others with which it is connected. Then concord must be violated: and different languages try to avoid this breach of concord in different ways.

We, in English, admit the want of concord in such cases as ‘She LOVES him not less than I (LOVE him);’ ‘He thinks so: not I;’ ‘They are going to-morrow: I too.’ The case is similar in French: Vous partez—moi aussi (= ‘You depart—me also’); and in German, Du gehst—ich auch (= ‘Thou goest—I too’). The sequence of tenses is not observed in ‘Therefore they thought it good you hear a play’ (Tam. of Shrew, Introduc. ii. 136);182 ‘’Twere good you do so much for charity’ (Merch. of Ven., IV. i. 261). The infinitive has to be borrowed from the finite verb in cases like ‘He has done as he was bound;’ ‘He is gone where he was told.’

It is, of course, harder to find cases of discord in gender in English than in more highly inflected languages. In French, however, we find Paul et Virginie étaient ignorants (B. de S. Pierre), ‘Paul and Virginia were ignorant [masc. plur.]:’ and also Le fer, le bandeau et la flamme est toute prête (Racine), ‘The iron, the bandage and the flame is quite ready;’ C’est un homme ou une femme noyée (Boniface), ‘It is a man or a woman drowned (sing. fem.):’ cf. Lat. Visæ nocturno tempore faces ardorque cœli (Cicero, Cat., iii. 8). The case is similar in Italian and Spanish. In English, we find such sentences as ‘I am happy to hear it was his horse and not himself who fell in the combat.’183

A single word may actually stand in relation to two or more verbs, and represent two or more cases; as, which (accusative to spit and nominative to is), however, they pretend to spit wholly out of themselves, is improved by the same arts (Swift, Battle of the Books, p. 29, Cassell’s Edit.): so in Latin—Quibus insputari solitumst atque iis profuit (Plaut., Captivi), ‘On whom it is customary that it should be spat, and (this) has been good for them.’

In Latin, again, we find a nominative actually representing an accusative; as, Qui fatetur ... et ... non timeo (Cicero) = ‘Who confesses ... and ... (whom) I do not fear:’ and, again, a dative represents an accusative in Cui fidem habent et bene rebus suis consulere arbitrantur (Cicero), ‘In whom they trust and whom they deem to manage their affairs well.’

There are, again, cases in which the two principal notions are connected by a link which serves to define more closely the nature of the connection. Such links are often dispensed with, as in Hectoris Andromache, Cæcilia Metelli; or, The Duke of Westminster’s Ormonde. It is misleading, in such cases, to say that uxor, ‘wife,’ or filia, ‘daughter,’ or colt is to be supplied; indeed, no definite expression of the kind could be supplied unless the hearer or reader were conversant with the situation; and even then it does not follow that any one of the three words which we have mentioned would actually be supplied. The truth is that the genitive, in these cases, denotes a connection which may be rendered more definite as our knowledge of the situation becomes more intimate.

Indications of direction were no doubt originally associated with verbs of motion only; as, I am going thither. But they are now found attached to verbs of preparing, wishing and the like: as, Wo wollen sie hin? = ‘Where will you to?’ (= ‘Whither will you?’ = ‘Whither are you going?’); He purposeth to Athens (Shakespeare, Ant. and Cleo., III. i. 35); I must to Coventry (Rich. II., I. ii. 56); To Cabin! silence, (Temp., I. i.); To horse! to horse! (Rich. II., II. i.); Back to thy punishment, false fugitive; Forward, brave champions, to the fight (Scott, Lay of Last Minstrel, v. 20); And thou shalt back to France (Marlowe, Edward II., I. i.); Let us across the country to Terracina (Bulwer, Rienzi, iii. 1).184 Similarly, the common Scottish phrase to want in, for to wish to enter. In these cases, we must suppose that the notions of preparing, wishing, etc., and of the terminus ad quem present themselves at once to our consciousness, and that they are directly connected as psychological subject and predicate. Then the ordinary construction in such cases, as, They are going home, or to Rome, occurred to the recollection, and the analogy of this form of expression co-operated to produce the form in question. The form has now become so usual that it cannot fairly be described as elliptical. Other similar phrases are I never let him from home; I will not let you out; Let me in; and, again, such as He is away, or He is off to Paris; in which case away and off to Paris are to be taken as predicates, and is as copula. With this construction may be classed the so-called constructio prægnans, like conditus in nubem (Vergil, Georgics, I. 442) = ‘Hidden into a cloud,’ i.e. ‘Having passed into a cloud and hidden itself.’

In Latin, a nominative case standing as subject is sometimes followed by an accusative standing without a verb; as, Cicero Cassio salutem, ‘Cicero to Cassius greeting:’ similarly, Unde mihi tam fortem? (Horace, Sat., II. v. 102); sus Minervam; fortes fortuna; dii meliora (Cicero, Phil., viii. 3); Di vostram fidem (Plaut., Captivi, 591).

In these cases, two notions are combined in the form of nominative and accusative because they stand in the same relation to each other as, in a more complete sentence, obtains between subject and predicate.

Similarly, in French, we find expressions like Vite un flambeau! (Racine), ‘Quick! a torch;’ Citoyens, trève à cette dispute! (Ponsard), ‘Citizens, enough of this dispute.’

Sometimes, again, a nominative standing as subject is connected with an adverb; as, hæc hactenus, ‘this so far;’ an tu id melius? ‘or (do you know) this better?’ ne quid temere, ‘nothing rash;’ ne quid nimis, ‘nothing too-much;’ ταῦτα μὲν οὖν δὲ ὁὗτως (= ‘that thou therefore thus’) (Plato). Similarly, we find in English, one step enough for me (Newman’s hymn, ‘Lead Kindly Light’). Many instances of such constructions may be found in Pepys’ Diary; as, I to bed, etc.

Sometimes we meet with sentences like I will give you an example how to do the thing. In this case, the subordinate sentence is combined with a principal sentence without some element of the sentence like, of how or as how you should do it. Thus we find sentences like the following:185 To talk to a man in a state of moral corruption to elevate himself. Then sentences like You look what is the matter; where the sentence, if fully expressed, would be Look to see what is the matter. Similarly, in Greek, Ὅρη δίφρον, Εὐνόα, αὐτᾷ (Theoc., Idyll., xv. 2), ‘Look (for) a chair for her.’ Similarly, we have such phrases as As far as that goes; As far as I know; To be plain: and, again, such compressed sentences as in short; quant à cela (‘as for that’), etc.

In cases like to the right, to the left, the situation again stands instead of a substantive. Just so, in Latin, calida frigida (aqua),186 ‘warm, cold (i.e. water):’ Hot or cold? (with reference to refreshments); Burgundy, Champagne; agnina, caprina (caro), ‘lamb, goat (i.e. flesh);’ Appia (via), ‘Appian (road);’ Martia (aqua), ‘Martian (water);’ une première représentation, ‘a first performance;’ a tenth; the Russian, French (language); la Marseillaise. In these cases, if we speak of ellipse at all, we must remember that we could not in many cases supply the ellipse without the situation. If we were to say, Bring the old instead of the new, this would be meaningless unless we had the wine before us: unless, indeed, we had something else, as clothes, for instance, in which case likewise the situation would supply the sense required. The more ‘usual’ such ways of speech become, the less do they depend on the situation. When we speak of Champagne, Bordeaux, Gruyère, etc., the word has passed from the position of an epithet into that of a true substantive.

In the case of genitive determinants, we meet with a similar development. An Oxford student would have no difficulty in understanding what was meant by We were beaten by St. John’s (College), nor a medical man by I am house surgeon at St. George’s. Similarly, we find in French la Saint Pierre (fête), ‘S. Peter’s (day);’ and, in Latin, ad Vestæ (templum), ‘to Vesta’s (temple);’ and in German, Heut ist Simon und Juda’s, ‘To-day is Simon and Juda’s (feast)’ (Sch.). In these cases, no ellipse can be assumed, for it is evident that the words are already apprehended as simple substantives.

In such forms as No further! the psychological predicate alfone is expressed, the unexpressed subject being the person to whom the words are addressed. We may gather that these words are apprehended as in the accusative case from parallel instances in other languages; as Cotta finem, ‘Cotta (made) an end;’ Keinen schritt weiter, No step further! It is the same with sentences like Good day, My best thanks, Bon voyage (‘Pleasant trip!’), etc. In sentences like Christianos ad leones (‘The Christians to the lions’) or Manum de tabula (‘Hand from table’), we might certainly take Christianos and manum as the psychological subject, and ad leones or de tabula as the predicate; but the accusative in Christianos and manum shows that a subject is really conceived of as taken from the situation, and that manum, Christianos, are regarded as the object of such subject. It is the same with cases: as, Ultro istum a me (Plautus), ‘Spontaneously him from me;’ Ex pede Herculem, ‘From foot Hercules;’ Ex ungue leonem, ‘From claw the lion;’ Malam illi pestem, ‘To him the plague’ (Cicero); Tiberium in Tiberim (Suet., Tib., 75), ‘Tiberius into the Tiber.’ In German we have cases like Den kopf in die höhe = ‘(The) head into the height’ = ‘Heads up!’ and, in English, probably such cases as Heads up! Hands down! are conceived of as in the accusative case. Other cases also, as well as adverbs, can be thus used: as, Sed de hoc alio loco pluribus = ‘But more of this hereafter;’ Hæc nimis iracunde = ‘This too angrily.’ Similarly, So Gareth to him (Tennyson, Gareth and Lynette, p. 47); Whereat the maiden petulant (ibid., p. 77).

Sometimes, as in the rhetorical figure which we call aposiopesis, the psychological predicate as well is taken from the situation; in this case gesticulation and the tone of the speaker may do much to promote the clearness of the situation. Thus we have suppressed threats, like the well-known Vergilian, Quos ego (Æn., i. 135), ‘Whom I!’187

Again, we find such expressions as, To be thus is nothing, but to be safely thus (is something).188 Again, take such expressions as the wretch! A maid and be so martial! (Shakespeare, 1 Hen. VI., I. iv.); and, again, exclamations such as So young and so depraved! To sleep so long! and, To throw me plumply aside! (Coleridge, Picc., i. 2). Under this head will come the so-called Infinitive of exclamation in Latin. Hunccine solem tam nigrum surrexe mihi (Horace, Sat., I. ix. 72), ‘Oh that this wretched day (black sun) has risen for me!’ This use is also very common in French; as, Enfoncer ce couteau moi-même, chose horrible (Ponsard),189 ‘To plunge this knife (into him) myself, horrible notion!’

Similarly, dependent sentences may become by us independent; as, ‘O that this too too solid flesh would melt!’ If I only knew! O had we some bright little isle of our own! (T. Moore). This use is similar in Anglo-Saxon.190

It is similar when conditional sentences are used as threats; as, If you only dare! Verbum si Addideris! (Terence), ‘If you say another word!’—or when such are set down and left uncompleted; as, But if he doesn’t come after all! French is full of parallels: cf. Et quand je pense que j’ai été plusieurs fois demander des messes à ce magicien d’Urbain (De Vigny), ‘And if I consider that I have several times asked this conjurer Urbain for masses!’ Puisque je suis là, si nous liquidions un peu ce vieux compte (Daudet), ‘As I am here (what) if we settled this old account?’ C’est à peine si ma tête entre dans ce chapeau (Acad.), ‘It is (only) with difficulty if my head gets into this hat;’ Passez votre chemin, mon ami. Que je passe mon chemin? Oui, qui, qui le pourrait (Regnard) = ‘Go on, my friend!—I, go on?—Yes, yes, if it were possible.’ These sentences with that are originally predicates; or, speaking from a grammatical point of view, objects. That I might be there to see! if fully expressed, would be I wish that I could be there to see. Cf. I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where ’tis spoken (Shakespeare, Tempest, I. ii.); Those other two equalled with me in fate, so were I equalled with them in renown (Milton, Par. Lost, iii. 33); Would to God we had died by the hand of the Lord (Exod. xvi. 3).

CHAPTER XIX.
RISE OF WORD-FORMATION AND INFLECTION.

We have in former chapters dealt with, and frequently alluded to, the fact that much which is new in derivation and inflection is due to analogy. Much is due to this, but not all; and we must now ask whence originated these processes of derivation and flection, which cannot be explained as due to analogy, i.e. those which, instead of being moulded on a given pattern, have, on the contrary, served as the model for others. It is clear that as soon as language arose, even in its most primitive state, words must have been combined syntactically, in however simple a manner. Groups of etymologically connected words, words derived the one from the other by suffixes (as long, length; king, kingdom) or by flection (as book, books; go, goes),—such groups need not have existed at once, nay, must have arisen only gradually, and in course of time. How did they arise? Theoretically, three ways only seem possible.

Words formed independently for cognate ideas, might accidentally resemble each other so closely as to group themselves also phonetically, i.e. to be sounded more or less alike; or—what is essentially the same, though not quite so improbable—words originally different and expressing different ideas, might, in course of time, so develop in meaning and sound as to become members of a group. A case somewhat of this nature we studied in our word bound (cf. page 194), which, originally different in sound and form from the then existing past participle of to bind, has come to resemble it so much in form, and was used in such a sense as to cause all but students of language to group these forms together.

A second way is a differentiation in sound, i.e. two forms may arise, under the influence of accent or other causes, from the same word, which two forms then come to be differentiated in meaning. We have in this way, for instance, the two forms of the past tense of the verb werden (to become) in German, ward and wurde. These arose absolutely independently of any difference in meaning; once having arisen, a custom sprang up of using the one (ward) as aorist and the other (wurde) by preference as imperfect tense.

That in the above examples, the form which later on became bound is not itself an original creation, or that, in German, the two forms of the past tense were due largely to analogy, does not affect their value as illustrative of our point. We readily understand that both these ways were and are possible, but, at the same time, that in only very few cases they have been followed.

Only one way of explaining the origin of flection remains—‘composition.’

In order to explain how derivation and flection can have been derived from composition, we will go somewhat deeply into the nature and application of the latter. We shall then see how impossible it is to draw a sharp line between syntactical co-ordination, composition, derivation, and flection anywhere, and then—and only then—we shall acquire an insight into the true nature of the subject of this chapter.

If we study the composition of words in the various Indo-European languages, we soon learn to distinguish two different kinds. In one we find the so-called crude forms (that is to say, those forms of the words which, WITH THE CASE-ENDINGS, make up what we now consider the complete word) combined with other crude forms, the last of which alone assumes these case-endings. To illustrate this we must of course go back to ancient languages, in which this crude form is clearly distinct from the nominative or any other case. We have plenty of such compounds even now in English and other modern languages; but, in consequence of the wearing off of terminations, the most undoubted examples would illustrate (i.e. throw light upon) nothing. In Sanscrit, for instance, there are three plants which in the nominative singular would be called çaças (or çaçaḥ), kuças (ḥ) or kuçam (masc. or neut.), and palâçam. It is the crude forms of these nouns (without their nominative—s and m) which are used in the compound çaça-kuça-palâçam, which indicates a collection of the three. Again râjâ (with long â) is the nominative form of a stem râjan (‘king’) or râja (with short a). In the compound râja-purushas (h) we again find the crude form, this time the shorter form of the base: purushas means ‘man’ and the whole (= ‘king-man’) stands for king’s man. We might illustrate this kind by such words as our tragi-comic, melodramatic (melos = ‘song’).

In the other kind of compounds we find two or more fully inflected forms combined in one group. This is the method of composition which survives in our present linguistic consciousness, which sees compounds of the second kind even in those which are historically connected with the Indo-European type, illustrated in the former paragraph by râja-purushas. The wearing off of well-nigh all case-endings has in the present language almost completely obliterated the difference between crude forms and nominatives of nouns and adjectives or the infinitives of verbs. Hence, at present, the ordinary speaker realises no difference between, e.g., noon in noon-tide and the word noon in It is noon. Yet the compound noon-tide belongs historically to the former class, and noon is there a ‘crude form,’ if we may still so call it. In our following study of composition as at present employed in the English language, we neglect the scientific origin, but base our classification on appearance; in the present case, on present linguistic consciousness. One of the fullest and best-known lists of compounds in the English language is perhaps that given by Morris (Histor. Outlines, p. 222). We shall largely draw upon it in the following study, though we have, in our enumeration, rather considered the character of the component parts than, as Mr. Morris does, that of the function of the compound.

I. Nouns are compounded with Nouns—

1. Both in the same case; i.e. in apposition, the one explanatory of, or defining the other (in which case one of the nouns has a function almost, if not quite, identical with that of an adjective). Instances are spear-plant, noon-tide, church-yard, headman, oak-tree, master-tailor, merchant-tailor, prince-regent, water-course, watershed, head-waiter, plough-boy, bishopdom (found in Milton, dom = ‘jurisdiction’), bishopric (ric = A.S. rîce, ‘power,’ ‘domain’), bandog (= band + dog), barn (bere, i.e. barley + ern, i.e. ‘storehouse’), bridegroom (bride + groom = goom = A.S. guma, ‘man’191), bridal (bride + ale = ‘bride-feast’), cowslip (cow + slip, A.S. cu-slyppe = ‘cow dung’), hussy (= ‘house-wife’—Skeat, Prin. Eng. Etymol., p. 422), Lord-lieutenant, earlmarshal, wer-wolf (‘man-wolf,’ A.S. wer = ‘a man’), world (weoruld, wer = ‘man’ + ældu = ‘age,’ ‘old age,’ ‘age of man’), yeoman (= ‘village-man’—see Skeat), orchard (A.S. orceard, ortgeard, metathesis = wort-yard = ‘vegetable-garden’), Lammas (= hláf-maesse = ‘loaf-mass,’ ‘day of offering,’ ‘first-fruits’), handi-work (hand + geweorc = ‘hand-work’), mildew (= ‘honey dew,’ mil = ‘honey,’ A.S. mele), penny-worth.

2. Genitive + Nominative. Doomsday, Thursday, Tuesday (day of Tiw, the godhead), kinsman, trades-union, calf’s-foot (calf’s-foot jelly), lady day (lady as a feminine had no s in the genitive), daisy (‘day’s eye,’ A.S. dæges 4 éage), Wednesday (‘Wodan’s day’), shilling’s-worth.

3. Noun + Verbal Noun (the former having the function of object to the verb cognate with the latter). Man-killer, blood-shedding, auger (i.e. ‘nauger,’ a nauger having been divided as if = an auger; A.S. nafu-gár, ‘nave (of a wheel)’ ‘-borer,’ ‘-piercer’), groundsel (A.S. grunde + swelge = ‘ground-swallower’ = ‘abundant weed;’ already in the Saxon corrupted from gunde-swilge = ‘poison-swallower,’ with reference to healing effects),192 lady (hláf-dige, ‘loaf-kneader’), soothsayer (= ‘truth-speaker’).

4. Two Nouns in other relations: nightingale (A.S. nihte-gale = ‘night-singer’), nightmare (mara, ‘an incubus,’ by night).

II. Nouns are compounded with Adjectives.

1. Adjective and Substantive.

a. Nouns. Nobleman, upperhand, good-day, sometime, meanwhile, freeman, blackbird, long-measure, sweet-william, lucky-bag, midday, alderman (ealdor-man = ‘elder-man’), Gospel (god-spell = ‘good-spell’ = ‘good tiding’), holiday (= ‘holy day’), halibut (= ‘holy but’ = ‘holy plaice for eating on holy days’), hoar-frost, hoar-hound (the hoar or greyish húna, i.e. the plant now called horehound), hind-leg, neighbour (= ‘near-dweller’), midriff (mid + hrif = belly), titmouse (small sparrow; mouse here = A.S. máse, small bird, not the A.S. mûs from which the common word mouse).

b. Adjectives. Barefoot.

2. Substantive and Adjective.

a. Nouns. Furlong (= ‘furrow long’ = ‘the length of a furrow’).

b. Adjectives. In many of these the noun has very much the functions of an adverb. Blood-red, snow-white, fire-proof, shameful, beautiful, manly (i.e. ‘man-like’), scot-free (free from paying scot, i.e. a contribution).

3. Substantive and Participle.

a. Earth-shaking, heart-rending, life-giving, blood-curdling.

b. Airfed, earthborn, moth-eaten.193

4. Numeral + Substantive.

Sennight (= ‘seven night’), fortnight (‘fourteen night’), twi-light (= ‘double light’ = ‘doubtful light’).

III. Pronoun and Substantive. Self-will, self-esteem.

IV. 1. Substantive and Verb (or Verbal Stem).

Verbs. Back-bite, blood-let, brow-beat, hoodwink, caterwaul (= ‘to wail like cats’).

2. Verb and Substantive.

Nouns. Grindstone, bakehouse, wash-tub, pickpocket, brimstone (i.e. brenstone = ‘burning stone’), rearmouse (hrére-mús, hreran, ‘to flutter’), wormwood (A.S. wermód = weremód, werian, ‘to defend,’ mód = ‘mood’ = ‘mind;’ ‘that which preserves the mind’), breakfast, spend-thrift (cf. wast-thrift—Middleton, A Trick to Catche the Old One, II. i.).

V. Adjective + Adjective (or Adverb + Adjective; it is not always possible to decide which).

1. Old-English, Low-German, deaf-mute, thrice-miserable.

2. Adjective (or Adverb) + Participle.

a. Deep-musing, fresh-looking, ill-looking.

b. Dear-bought, full-fed, high-born, dead-beat.

(In well-bred, well-disposed, etc., there is, of course, no doubt that the first element is an adverb.)

VI. Adjective and Verb. White-wash.

VII. Adverb and Verb. Cross-question, doff (do-off), don (do-on).

Further compounds we meet are made up of—

VIII. Pronouns with Pronouns. Somewhat.

IX. Adverbs with Adverbs. Each (= á (aye) + gelic = like, A.S. aelc).

X. Adverbs with Pronouns. None (= ne + one), naught (= ne + aught).

XI. Adverbs with Prepositions. Therefrom.

XII. Adverbs with Adverbs. Henceforth, forthwith.

XIII. Prepositions with their Case. Downstairs, uphill, instead.

XIV. Adverbs with Verbs. Foretell, gainsay, withstand, etc.

We also find more than two members formed into one; such as man-o’-war, will-o’-the-wisp, brother-in-law, nevertheless, whatsoever, etc. Sentences and phrases coalesce; as in good-bye (= ‘God be with you’), the provincial beleddy (= ‘By our lady,’ i.e. the Virgin Mary), may-be (provincially in America written mebbe), and, aided by metaphorical usage, forget-me-not, kiss-me-quick, etc.

The student should carefully go over these examples, and, in each of them, attentively study the full force of the compound, and see what is really expressed by the component part, and what implied by the mere fact that they are thus joined.194 If he is acquainted with any foreign languages, he should also study all the various habits of these languages as regards composition. He will then gain a clear insight into the nature of the process, and see how impossible it is to fix a line of demarcation between compounds and syntactical combinations. This is further illustrated by the fact that much, which in one language is looked upon as a compound, in another is kept asunder; nay, in the same language one calls a compound what the other would count as two distinct words. Thus a German writes derselbe (= ‘the self,’ i.e. ‘the same’) as one word, whereas an Englishman writes the same; an Englishman writes himself where the German has, in two words, sich selbst. Cf. the Eng. long-measure with the Ger. langenmass; the Fr. malheureux (from malum augurium, ‘evil omen’) with the Eng. ill-starred, etc. It is this uncertainty, this vacillation, to which we owe the compromise of writing such combinations with a hyphen; e.g., a good-for-nothing. Though even this usage is not fixed and invariable; for one author will write, e.g., head-dress, another headdress, etc.

If there is no line of logical demarcation between compound and syntactical groups, no more is there a phonetic one. Misled by the fact that the words of a syntactical group are written asunder, and a compound written as one word, we might think that the members of such a compound were pronounced as though more intimately connected than those of a syntactical group. But combinations like those of article and noun, preposition and noun, are really pronounced as one continuous whole as much as any compound. Nor is there an essential difference in the accent, either in place or in force. Compare, for instance, with him and withstand or withdraw; the degree of strength (or perhaps rather the absence) of emphasis on the first word in Lord Randolph, Lord Salisbury, with that on the last ‘syllable’ in landlord; or, again, the quantity of stress we give to the preposition in the expression in my opinion with that on the first syllable of insertion. If the example of Lord Randolph v. landlord seemed to show that the PLACE of the accent has some significance, we have but to read the sentences Not Lord Randolph but Lady R. Churchill, or Not the landlord but the landlady spoke to the lodger, to find the accents in exactly the opposite relations and places. No special place of accent, then, is characteristic of a compound. A very instructive example we have in the compound Newfoundland. This is actually pronounced by various speakers in three different ways: one says Néwfoundland, another Newfóundland, and, again, another Newfoundlánd. What, then, makes every one feel this word, in all three pronunciations, to be compound? Nothing physiological, but simply and solely the psychological fact that the meaning of the group new-found-land has become specialised, and no longer corresponds to what once would have been a perfectly equivalent group, land-newly-discovered. Semasiological development and isolation is the criterion of a compound. What degree of such isolation is required cannot be stated in any hard and fast rule.

Such isolation can be effected in four different ways. (1) In the first place, the whole group, as such, can develop its meaning in a manner, or to a degree, not shared by the compound members. An example of this we saw just now in Newfoundland. (2) Or, again, the component parts, as separate words, may develop and change their meaning, without being followed in that development by the same words as part of the group. Thus, e.g., with originally meant against. This meaning it still has in withstand, whilst as a separate word it is not now used in that meaning. (3) Thirdly, the compound parts may become obsolete as separate words; as, for instance, ric in ‘bishopric’ (cf. supra, p. 317). (4) And lastly, the peculiar construction according to which the parts are connected or combined may become obsolete, surviving only in the formula, which thus becomes isolated. Thus, e.g., the genitive singular of feminine nouns can no longer be formed without s; hence Lady-day is now felt as a compound word, whilst ladies’-cloak or ladies’-house would not be so felt.

Though such isolation is necessary and may suffice to stamp a group as compound, we must not conclude that every group, where such isolation in one way or another has commenced, is ipso facto looked upon as a compound. Many considerations are here of importance, some of which will be brought out in a further study of some examples in which we can observe the commencement of the fusion.

The first step which a syntactical group takes on the road towards complete isolation and consequent fusion into a compound, is commonly the one we described under No. 1. in the former section. We must here distinguish two cases, which, though perhaps not easily distinguished in words, are yet clearly different.

An example will best serve to explain it. We have already more than once stated that in Lady-day the grammatical isolation of the genitive lady, as against the present genitive lady’s, serves to emphasise the fusion of the two parts into one compound. But we must not forget that this form of the genitive in this combination would not have been preserved if, at the time when the word lady by itself began to assume the genitive s—or, rather, began to follow analogically other genitives in s,—if, we say, the compound had not then already been isolated to a sufficient degree to protect the first component part against the influence which affected it when standing in other combinations. The absence of the s is therefore NOT the CAUSE of the isolation of the group, or the fusion of its parts. We must seek for that cause most likely in the fact that the genitive was, in this combination, used in a sense which always was or had become unusual. Lady-day, even when the form lady was still felt as genitive, would but mean ‘the day consecrated to the service of our Lady,’ or ‘the day sacred to our Lady.’ Now this use of the genitive must always have been an exceptional one. Never, for instance, could a man’s book or a lady’s cloak have had a similar meaning. It was therefore at first not so much the meaning of the component parts, as the MEANING EXPRESSED BY THEIR SYNTACTICAL CO-ORDINATION, which stood apart and became isolated. We see something of the same influence if we compare St. John’s wood and St. John’s Church. In the second group, the latter of the component parts has a meaning which suggests and helps to keep alive the correct meaning of the genitive-relation expressed by the flection of the former part. In St. John’s wood this is not so. This compound is therefore felt to be more intimately fused together than the other, and, while every one who uses the expression St. John’s Church thinks of the Saint who bore the name of John, but few speakers will do so in speaking of St. John’s wood. There is a very clear instance of this at hand in the German Hungersnot, lit. = hungersneed, i.e. ‘famine’ (need, suffering caused by hunger). Here the genitive with the word need has a very special sense, which, e.g., could not be expressed by the otherwise equivalent construction with of. ‘The need of hunger,’ if ever used in German, would be a very forced and uncommon way of expressing the idea ‘famine,’ a way which only a poet could adopt (die Not des Hungers). Here, then, again, it is not the sense of the words, but the sense of their syntactical relation which stands isolated.

On the other hand, if we consider forms like upstairs, always, altogether, we shall find that it is not this relation, but the whole meaning of the group as such, which has become isolated by development or specialisation of meaning. Upstairs has become equivalent to ‘on a floor of the building higher than we are now;’ always has been extended so as to include the relation of time, etc. This development has then generally given rise to what grammarians term ‘indeclinabilia,’ which sometimes, by secondary development have become capable of flection. Thus the German preposition zu (to, at), and the dative case frieden (peace), in a sentence like Ich bin zufrieden, gave rise to the compound zufrieden (lit. = ‘at peace’), ‘contented.’ When once the prepositional phrase at peace had developed into the adjective content, the compound was declined like other adjectives: ein zufriedener mann = ‘a contented man;’ etc.

Again, when the groups round-about and go-between had become nouns, they could be treated as such, and we find the plurals round-abouts and go-betweens.

The more highly a language is inflected, the less liable will the parts of a syntactical group be to fuse into one. It is much easier for a combination like Greenland or Newfoundland to pass into a real compound than for one like the German (das) rote Meer, ‘(the) Red Sea,’ though the amount of isolation of meaning is the same in both. Whether the group Green + land is nominative or dative or genitive, no change in the form of green occurs; in German, das rote Meer is nominative, des roten Meeres is genitive, dem roten Meer is dative. Every time one of the two latter cases is used, the addition of the flection n reminds us of the independence of the two words rot and Meer.

Just as by means of suffixes, etc., we derive new words from others, whether the latter are simple or compound forms (love, love-able; for-get, forget-able; etc.), so we sometimes find whole syntactical groups, which are not yet considered as having been fused into one compound, used with similar suffixes. Instances are: good-for-nothingness, a stand-off-ishness, a devil-may-carish face; That fellow is such a go-a-header; He is not get-at-able, etc., which no doubt scarcely belong to the literary language, but which show that the linguistic feeling of the speaker must have already apprehended these groups as unities; in other words, that the first step on the road towards welding them into a compound has been taken. A well-established instance appears in our ordinal numerals, such as one-and-twentieth, five-and-fortieth, etc.

A similar commencement of fusion we can observe in copulative combinations like wind and weather or town and country, as soon as the whole may be conceived as a single conception. In wind and weather this is the case, the two terms being in this combination SYNONYMOUS, describing the same object from different points of view. Other instances of this we have in bag and baggage, kith and kin, moil and toil, safe and sound, first and foremost, house and home, far and wide.195 In town and country, on the other hand, we have two elements which, whilst CONTRASTING, supplement one another. Such groups are old and young, heaven and hell, gown and town, big and small, rich and poor, hither and thither, to and fro, up and down, in and out. In a few, the same member is repeated; as, out and out, through and through, again and again, little by little. A careful consideration of the real meaning of such groups will show that, strictly speaking, these form a subdivision of our second class.

Inflected languages like German afford a criterion not applicable to English, as to the fusion of such combinations. We find there, for instance, a group—Habe und Gut (Etymol. = have, as a noun, for ‘property,’ and good = ‘chattels’), for ‘all a man’s possessions.’ The first of these nouns is feminine, and consequently ‘with all (his) belongings’ would be ‘mit aller Habe;’ Gut, on the other hand, is neuter, and requires the form (dative after mit) ‘mit allem Gut.’ Goethe has treated the group Hab’ und Gut as a neuter noun, and written ‘mit allem mobilen Hab’ und Gut’ (‘with all movable possessions’).

We have seen that groups like one and twenty, five and forty, etc., were really far advanced on the way of fusion, as was shown by the formation of the corresponding ordinals. In the case of those which begin with one, we have a further proof of this in the use of the plural noun, e.g. ‘one and twenty men.’

It will be readily felt that in expressions like a black and white dog, the group black and white really is in a similar state of fusion. We have but to separate the parts into two really independent words by the insertion of a second indefinite article, to see at once that ‘black and white’ is the description of one quality of one object, a compound word to express one (though not psychologically simple) conception.

So, again, the group one and all is sufficiently welded into one to resist, e.g., the insertion of the preposition of before its second part. Thus we should say It was for the good of one and all (i.e. for the entire community) and not of one and of all.

We may assume that complete fusion between the parts of such copulative groups would be more common if it were not checked by the connecting particle and. In some of the most common of these the accent of and has become so much depressed that the word becomes almost inaudible: cf. hare and hounds, half and half, etc. In combinations where the connecting particle has become unrecognisable in consequence of such phonetic sinking, it no longer resists the fusion. Thus, Jackanapes has become to all intents and purposes one word. It stands196 with the common preposition on, instead of of (cf. the very frequent use of this ‘on’ in Shakespeare and contemporaries), for Jack-of-apes, i.e., originally, ‘the man of the (or with the) [performing] apes,’ just as Jack-a-lantern stands for ‘Jack of the (or with the) lantern,’ etc. Combinations without any such connecting link pass, of course, all the more easily into compounds: cf. Alsace-Lorraine, as against such combinations as Naples and Sicily.

In the period of the Indo-European languages before inflections had taken their rise, or when they were not yet indispensable, the fusion into a ‘copulative compound’ (dvand-va) must have been simple and easy.

When a substantive has been specialised in meaning by being combined with an attributive, as blackbird, the combination may pass through all the changes of signification described in Chapter IV. without the uncombined substantive as such being affected. The result is commonly to make the combination richer in contents than the simple combination of the parts. Thus, by ‘a blackbird’ we understand the familiar songster to which we give the name, and no longer understand such birds as rooks, crows, etc., which might have been classed under the name ‘blackbird.’197 Further modifications may set in, which may cause the epithet, strictly interpreted, to become wholly inapplicable. Thus, ‘a butterfly’198 is applied to a whole class of insects quite irrespective of their colours. When we talk of the Middle Ages, we mean a strictly defined period of time, though no such definition is involved in the word middle. Privy Councillor denotes a definite rank; and the idea of privacy hardly enters into our heads as we pronounce the word: cf. also such expressions as the Holy Scriptures; the fine Arts; cold blood; Black Monday; Passion Week; the High School; the wise men from the East. It must be observed that the substantival determinants are only able to fuse with the word defined if they are employed in an abstract sense. This restriction does not, however, apply in the case of proper names.