CHAPTER XXVI.
DEFECTIVENESS AND IRREGULARITY.
[§ 323]. The distinction between irregularity and defectiveness has been foreshadowed. It is now more urgently insisted on.
The words that have hitherto served as illustrations are the personal pronouns I or me, the adjectives good, better, and best.
The view of these words was as follows; viz., that none of them were irregular, but that they were all defective. Me wanted the nominative, I the oblique cases. Good was without a comparative, better and best had no positive degree.
Now me and better may be said to make good the defectiveness of I and good; and I and good may be said to replace the forms wanting in me and better. This gives us the principle of compensation. To introduce a new term, I and me, good and better, may be said to be complementary to each other.
What applies to nouns applies to verbs also. Go and went are not irregularities. Go is defective in the past tense. Went is without a present. The two words, however, compensate their mutual deficiencies, and are complementary to each other.
The distinction between defectiveness and irregularity, is the first instrument of criticism for coming to true
views concerning the proportion of the regular and irregular verbs.
[§ 324]. The second instrument of criticism in determining the irregular verbs, is the meaning that we attach to the term.
It is very evident that it is in the power of the grammarian to raise the number of etymological irregularities to any amount, by narrowing the definition of the word irregular; in other words, by framing an exclusive rule. The current rule of the common grammarians is that the præterite is formed by the addition of -t, or -d, or -ed; a position sufficiently exclusive; since it proscribes not only the whole class of strong verbs, but also words like bent and sent, where -t exists, but where it does not exist as an addition. The regular forms, it may be said, should be bended and sended.
Exclusive, however, as the rule in question is, it is plain that it might be made more so. The regular forms might, by the fiat of a rule, be restricted to those in -d. In this case words like wept and burnt would be added to the already numerous list of irregulars.
Finally, a further limitation might be made, by laying down as a rule that no word was regular, unless it ended in -ed.
[§ 325]. Thus much concerning the modes of making rules exclusive, and, consequently, of raising the amount of irregularities. This is the last art that the philosophic grammarian is ambitious of acquiring. True etymology reduces irregularity; and that by making the rules of grammar, not exclusive, but general. The quantum of irregularity is in the inverse proportion to the generality of our rules. In language itself there is no irregularity. The word itself is only another name for our ignorance of the processes that change words; and, as irregularity
is in the direct proportion to the exclusiveness of our rules, the exclusiveness of our rules is in the direct proportion to our ignorance of etymological processes.
[§ 326]. The explanation of some fresh terms will lead us towards the definition of the word irregular.
Vital and obsolete processes.—The word moved is formed from move, by the addition of -d. The addition of -d is the process by which the present form is rendered præterite. The word fell is formed from fall, by changing a into e. The change of vowel is the process by which the present form is rendered præterite. Of the two processes the result is the same. In what respect do they differ?
For the sake of illustration, let a new word be introduced into the language. Let a præterite tense of it be formed. This præterite would be formed, not by changing the vowel, but by adding -d. No new verb ever takes a strong præterite. The like takes place with nouns. No new substantive would form its plural, like oxen or geese, by adding -en, or by changing the vowel. It would rather, like fathers and horses, add the lene sibilant.
Now, the processes that change fall, ox and goose into fell, oxen, and geese, inasmuch as they cease to operate on the language in its present stage, are obsolete processes; whilst those that change move into moved, and horse into horses, operating on the language in its present stage, are vital processes.
A definition of the word irregular might be so framed as to include all words whose forms could not be accounted for by the vital processes. Such a definition would make all the strong verbs irregular.
The very fact of so natural a class as that of the strong
verbs being reduced to the condition of irregulars, invalidates such a definition as this.
[§ 327]. Processes of necessity as opposed to processes of habit.—The combinations -pd, -fd, -kd, -sd, and some others, are unpronounceable. Hence words like step, quaff, back, kiss, &c., take after them the sound of -t; stept, quafft, &c., being their præterites, instead of stepd, quaffd. Here the change from -d to -t is a matter of necessity. It is not so with words like weep, and wept, &c. Here the change of vowel is not necessary. Weept might have been said if the habit of the language had permitted.
A definition of the word irregular might be so framed as to include all words whose natural form was modified by any euphonic process whatever. In this case stept (modified by a process of necessity), and wept (modified by a process of habit), would be equally irregular.
A less limited definition might account words regular as long as the process by which they are deflected from their natural form was a process of necessity. Those, however, which were modified by a process of habit it would class with the irregulars.
Definitions thus limited arise from ignorance of euphonic processes, or rather from an ignorance of the generality of their operation.
[§ 328]. Ordinary processes as opposed to extraordinary processes.—The whole scheme of language is analogical. A new word introduced into a language takes the forms of its cases or tenses, &c., from the forms of the cases or tenses, &c., of the old words. The analogy is extended. Now few forms (if any) are so unique as not to have some others corresponding with them; and few processes of change are so unique as not to affect more words than one. The forms wept, and slept, correspond
with each other. They are brought about by the same process: viz., by the shortening of the vowel in weep and sleep. The analogy of weep is extended to sleep, and vice versâ. Changing our expression, a common influence affects both words. The alteration itself is the leading fact. The extent of its influence is an instrument of classification. When processes affect a considerable number of words, they may be called ordinary processes; as opposed to extraordinary processes, which affect one or few words.
When a word stands by itself, with no other corresponding to it, we confess our ignorance, and say that it is affected by an extraordinary process, by a process peculiar to itself, or by a process to which we know nothing similar.
A definition of the word irregular might be so framed as to include all words affected by extraordinary processes; the rest being considered regular.
[§ 329]. Positive processes as opposed to ambiguous processes.—The words wept and slept are similarly affected. Each is changed from weep and sleep respectively; and we know that the process which affects the one is the process that affects the other also. Here there is a positive process.
Reference is now made to words of a different sort. The nature of the word worse has been explained in the Chapter on the Comparative Degree. There the form is accounted for in two ways, of which only one can be the true one. Of the two processes, each might equally have brought about the present form. Which of the two it was, we are unable to say. Here the process is ambiguous.
A definition of the word irregular might be so framed as to include all words affected by ambiguous processes.
[§ 330]. Normal processes as opposed to processes of
confusion.—Let a certain word come under class A. Let all words under class A be similarly affected. Let a given word come under class A. This word will be affected even as the rest of class A is affected. The process affecting, and the change resulting, will be normal, regular, or analogical.
Let, however, a word, instead of really coming under class A, only appear to do so. Let it be dealt with accordingly. The analogy then is a false one. The principle of imitation is a wrong one. The process affecting is a process of confusion.
Examples of this (a few amongst many) are words like songstress, theirs, minded, where the words songstr-, their-, mind-, are dealt with as roots, which they are not.
Ambiguous processes, extraordinary processes, processes of confusion—each, or all of these, are legitimate reasons for calling words irregular. The practice of etymologists will determine what definition is most convenient.
With extraordinary processes we know nothing about the word. With ambiguous processes we are unable to make a choice. With processes of confusion we see the analogy, but, at the same time, see that it is a false one.
[§ 331]. Could.—With all persons who pronounce the l this word is truly irregular. The Anglo-Saxon form is cuðe. The l is inserted by a process of confusion.
Can, cunne, canst, cunnon, cunnan, cuðe, cuðon, cuð—such are the remaining forms in Anglo-Saxon. None of them account for the l. The presence of the l makes the word could irregular. No reference to the allied languages accounts for it.
Notwithstanding this, the presence of the l is accounted for. In would and should the l has a proper
place. It is part of the original words, will and shall. A false analogy looked upon could in the same light. Hence a true irregularity; provided that the L be pronounced.
The L, however, is pronounced by few, and that only in pursuance with the spelling. This reduces the word could to an irregularity, not of language, but only of orthography.
That the mere ejection of the -n in can, and that the mere lengthening of the vowel, are not irregularities, we learn from a knowledge of the processes that convert the Greek ὀδόντος (odontos) into ὀδούς (odows).
[§ 332]. The verb quoth is truly defective. It is found in only one tense, one number, and one person. It is the third person singular of the præterite tense. It has the further peculiarity of preceding its pronoun. Instead of saying he quoth, we say quoth he. In Anglo-Saxon, however, it was not defective. It was found in the other tenses, in the other number, and in other moods. Ic cweðe, þú cwyst, he cwyð; ic cwæð, þú cwæðe, he cwæð, we cwædon, ge cwædon, hi cwædon; imperative, cweð; participle, gecweden. In the Scandinavian it is current in all its forms. There, however, it means, not to speak but to sing. As far as its conjugation goes, it is strong. As far as its class goes, it follows the form of speak, spoke. Like speak, its Anglo-Saxon form is in æ, as cwæð. Like one of the forms of speak, its English form is in o, as quoth, spoke.
[§ 333]. The principle that gives us the truest views of the structure of language is that which considers no word irregular unless it be affected by either an ambiguous process, or by a process of confusion. The words affected by extraordinary processes form a provisional class, which a future increase of our etymological
knowledge may show to be regular. Worse and could are the fairest specimens of our irregulars. Yet even could is only an irregularity in the written language. The printer makes it, and the printer can take it away. Hence the class, instead of filling pages, is exceedingly limited.