Curtius himself seems in favor of deriving θεός from θες, to implore, which we have in θεσ-σάμενοι, θέσσαντο, πολύθεστος, etc. Θεός, taken as a passive derivative, might, he thinks, have the meaning of ἀρητός in πολυάρητος, and mean the implored being. I cannot think that this is a satisfactory derivation. It might be defended phonetically and etymologically, though I cannot think of any analogous passive derivatives of a root ending in s. Where it fails to carry conviction is in leaving unexplained the loss of the common Aryan word for deity, and in putting in its place a name that savors of very modern thought.
I think the strongest argument against the supposed aspirating power of medial v, and its subsequent disappearance, lies in the fact that there are so many words having medial v, which show no trace of this phonetic process (Curtius, p. 507). On the other hand, it should be borne in mind, that the Greeks might have felt a natural objection to the forms which would have rendered deva with real exactness, I mean δοιός or δέος, the former conveying the meaning of double, the latter of fear. A mere wish to keep the name for god distinct from these words might have produced the phonetic anomaly of which we complain; and, after all, though I do not like to use that excuse, there are exceptions to phonetic laws. No one can explain how ὄγδοος was derived from ὀκτώ or ἕβδομος from ἑπτά, yet the internal evidence is too strong to be shaken by phonetic objections. In the case of θεός and deus the internal evidence seems to me nearly as strong as in ὄγδοος and ἕβδομος, and though unwilling to give a final verdict, I think the question of the loss in Greek of the Aryan word for god and its replacement by another word nearly identical in form, but totally distinct in origin, should be left for the present an open question in Comparative Philology.
[NOTE B.]
The Vocative of Dyaús and Ζεύς.[text]
The vocative of Dyaus, having the circumflex, is one of those linguistic gems which one finds now and then in the Rig-Veda, and which by right ought to have a place of honor in a Museum of Antiquities. It is a unique form. It occurs but once in the Rig-Veda, never again, as far as we know at present, in the whole of Vedic literature, and yet it is exactly that form which a student of language would expect who is familiar with the working of the laws of accent in Sanskrit and in Greek. Without a thorough knowledge of these laws, the circumflexed vocative in Sanskrit, Dyaûs, corresponding to Greek Ζεῦ, would seem a mere anomaly, possibly an accidental coincidence, whereas in reality it affords the most striking proof of the organic working of the laws of accent, and at the same time an unanswerable testimony in favor of the genuineness of the ancient text of the Rig-Veda.
The laws of accent bearing on this circumflexed vocative are so simple that I thought they would have been understood by everybody. As this does not seem to have been the case, I add a few explanatory remarks.
It was Benfey who, as on so many other points, so on the accent of vocatives, was the first to point out (in 1845) that it was a fundamental law of the Aryan language to place the acute on the first syllable of all vocatives, both in the singular, and in the dual and plural.[9] In Sanskrit this law admits of no exception; in Greek and Latin the rhythmic accent has prevailed to that extent that we only find a few traces left of the original Aryan accentuation. It is well known that in vocatives of nouns ending in ius, the ancient Romans preserved the accent on the first syllable, that they said Vírgili, Váleri, from Virgílius and Valérius. This statement of Nigidius Figulus, preserved by Gellius, though with the remark that in his time no one would say so, is the only evidence of the former existence of the Aryan law of accentuation in Latin. In Greek the evidence is more considerable, but the vocatives with the accent on the first syllable are, by the supreme law of the rhythmic accent in Greek, reduced to vocatives, drawing back their accent as far as they can, consistently with the law which restricts the accent to the last three syllables. Thus while in Sanskrit a word like Ἀγαμέμνων would in the vocative retract the accent on the first syllable Ἄγαμεμνον, the Greek could do no more than say Ἀγάμεμνον with the accent on the antepenultimate. In the same manner the vocative of Ἀριστοτέλης, can only be Ἀριστότελες, whereas in Sanskrit it would have been Ἄριστοτελες.
Here, however, the question arises, whether in words like Ἀγαμέμνων[10] and Ἀριστοτέλης[11] the accent was not originally on the antepenultimate, but drawn on the penultimate by the rhythmic law. This is certainly the case in ἥδιον, as the vocative of ἡδίων, for we know that both in Sanskrit and Greek, comparatives in ιων retract their accent as far as possible, and have it always on the first syllable in Sanskrit, always on the penultimate in Greek, if the last syllable is long. But, cessante causâ cessat effectus, and therefore the accent goes back on the antepenultimate, not only in the vocative, but likewise in the nom. neuter ἥδιον.
It is possible that the same process may explain the vocative δέσποτα from δεσπότης, if we compare Sanskrit compounds with pati, such as dâsápati, gấspati, dámpati, which leave the accent on the first member of the compound. In Δημήτηρ also all becomes regular, if we admit the original accentuation to have been Δήμητηρ, changed in Δημήτηρ, but preserved in the genitive Δήμητρος, and the vocative Δήμητερ.[12]
But there are other words in which this cannot be the case, for instance, ἄδελφε, πόνηρε, μόχθερε from ἀδελφός, πονηρός, μοχθηρός. Here the accent is the old Aryan vocatival accent. Again, in πατήρ, πατέρα, Sk. pitấ, pitáram, in μήτηρ, μητέρα, Sk. mâtấ, mâtáram, in θυγάτηρ, θυγατέρα, Sk. duhitấ, duhitáram, the radical accent was throughout on the suffix tár, nor would the rules of the rhythmic accent in Greek prevent it from being on the antepenultimate in the accusative. The fact therefore that it is retracted on the penultimate and antepenultimate in the vocative, shows clearly that we have here, too, the last working of the original Aryan accentuation. The irregular accent in the nom. sing. of μήτηρ, instead of μητήρ, is probably due to the frequent use of the vocative (an explanation which I had adopted before I had seen Benfey’s essay), and the same cause may explain the apparently irregular accentuation in θύγατρα, by the side of θυγατέρα, in θύγατρες, and θύγατρας. Similar vocatives with retracted accent are δᾶερ, nom. δαήρ, εἴνατερ, nom. εἰνάτηρ, γύναι, nom. γυνή, σῶτερ, nom. σωτήρ, ἄνερ, nom. ἀνήρ, Ἄπολλον, nom. Ἀπόλλων, Πόσειδον, nom. Ποσειδῶν, Ἥρακλες, nom. Ἡρακλῆς.