We have seen before that some kind of classification of expression must be found in every language. This classification of ideas into groups, each of which is expressed by an independent word-stem, makes it necessary that concepts which are not readily rendered by a single stem should be expressed by combinations or by modifications of the elementary stems in accordance with the elementary ideas to which the particular idea is reduced.
This classification, and the necessity of expressing certain experiences by means of other related ones,—which, by limiting one another, define the special idea to be expressed,—entail the presence of certain formal elements which determine the relations of the single word-stems. If each idea could be expressed by a single word-stem, languages without form would be possible. Since, however, ideas must be expressed by being reduced to a number of related ideas, the kinds of relation become important elements in articulate speech; and it follows that all languages must contain formal elements, and that their number must be the greater, the less the number of elementary word-stems that define special ideas. In a language which commands a very large, fixed vocabulary, the number of formal elements may become quite small.
After we have thus seen that all languages require and contain certain classifications and formal elements, we will turn to a consideration of the relation between language and thought. It has been claimed that the conciseness and clearness of thought of a people depend to a great extent upon their language. The ease with which in our modern European languages we express wide abstract ideas by a single term, and the facility with which wide generalizations are cast into the frame of a simple sentence, have been claimed to be one of the fundamental conditions of the clearness of our concepts, the logical force of our thought, and the precision with which we eliminate in our thoughts irrelevant details. Apparently this view has much in its favor. When we compare modern English with some of those Indian languages which are most concrete in their formative expression, the contrast is striking. When we say, “The eye is the organ of sight,” the Indian may not be able to form the expression “the eye,” but may have to define that the eye of a person or of an animal is meant. Neither may the Indian be able to generalize readily the abstract idea of an eye as the representative of the whole class of objects, but may have to specialize by an expression like “this eye here.” Neither may he be able to express by a single term the idea of “organ,” but may have to specify it by an expression like “instrument of seeing,” so that the whole sentence might assume a form like “an indefinite person’s eye is his means of seeing.” Still it will be recognized that in this more specific form the general idea may be well expressed. It seems very questionable in how far the restriction of the use of certain grammatical forms can really be conceived as a hindrance in the formulation of generalized ideas. It seems much more likely that the lack of these forms is due to the lack of their need. Primitive man, when conversing with his fellow-man, is not in the habit of discussing abstract ideas. His interests centre around the occupations of his daily life; and where philosophic problems are touched upon, they appear either in relation to definite individuals or in the more or less anthropomorphic forms of religious beliefs. Discourses on qualities without connection with the object to which the qualities belong, or of activities or states disconnected from the idea of the actor or the subject being in a certain state, will hardly occur in primitive speech. Thus the Indian will not speak of goodness as such, although he may very well speak of the goodness of a person. He will not speak of a state of bliss apart from the person who is in such a state. He will not refer to the power of seeing without designating an individual who has such power. Thus it happens that in languages in which the idea of possession is expressed by elements subordinated to nouns, all abstract terms appear always with possessive elements. It is, however, perfectly conceivable that an Indian trained in philosophic thought would proceed to free the underlying nominal forms from the possessive elements, and thus reach abstract forms strictly corresponding to the abstract forms of our modern languages. I have made this experiment, for instance, in one of the languages of Vancouver Island, in which no abstract term ever occurs without its possessive elements. After some discussion, I found it perfectly easy to develop the idea of the abstract term in the mind of the Indian, who stated that the word without a possessive pronoun gives good sense, although it is not used idiomatically. I succeeded, for instance, in this manner, in isolating the terms for “love” and “pity,” which ordinarily occur only in possessive forms, like “his love for him” or “my pity for you.” That this view is correct, may also be observed in languages in which possessive elements appear as independent forms; as, for instance, in the Siouan languages. In these, pure abstract terms are quite common.
There is also evidence that other specializing elements, which are so characteristic of many Indian languages, may be dispensed with when, for one reason or another, it seems desirable to generalize a term. To use an example of a western language,[[5]] the idea “to be seated” is almost always expressed with an inseparable suffix expressing the place in which a person is seated, as “seated on the floor of the house, on the ground, on the beach, on a pile of things,” or “on a round thing,” etc. When, however, for some reason, the idea of the state of sitting is to be emphasized, a form may be used which expresses simply “being in a sitting posture.” In this case, also, the device for generalized expression is present; but the opportunity for its application arises seldom, or perhaps never. I think what is true in these cases is true of the structure of every single language. The fact that generalized forms of expression are not used, does not prove inability to form them, but it merely proves that the mode of life of the people is such that they are not required; that they would, however, develop just as soon as needed.
This point of view is also corroborated by a study of the numeral systems of primitive languages. As is well known, many languages exist in which the numerals do not exceed two or three. It has been inferred from this that the people speaking these languages are not capable of forming the concept of higher numbers. I think this interpretation of the existing conditions is quite erroneous. People like the South American Indians (among whom these defective numeral systems are found), or like the Eskimo (whose old system of numbers probably did not exceed ten), are presumably not in need of higher numerical expressions, because there are not many objects that they have to count. On the other hand, just as soon as these same people find themselves in contact with civilization, and when they acquire standards of value that have to be counted, they adopt with perfect ease higher numerals from other languages, and develop a more or less perfect system of counting. This does not mean that every individual who in the course of his life has never made use of higher numerals would acquire more complex systems readily; but the tribe as a whole seems always to be capable of adjusting itself to the needs of counting. It must be borne in mind that counting does not become necessary until objects are considered in such generalized form that their individualities are entirely lost sight of. For this reason it is possible that even a person who owns a herd of domesticated animals may know them by name and by their characteristics, without ever desiring to count them. Members of a war expedition may be known by name, and may not be counted. In short, there is no proof that the lack of the use of numerals is in any way connected with the inability to form the concepts of higher numbers when needed.
If we want to form a correct judgment of the influence that language exerts over thought, we ought to bear in mind that our European languages, as found at the present time, have been moulded to a great extent by the abstract thought of philosophers. Terms like “essence” and “existence,” many of which are now commonly used, are by origin artificial devices for expressing the results of abstract thought. In this way they would resemble the artificial, unidiomatic abstract terms that may be formed in primitive languages.
Thus it would seem that the obstacles to generalized thought inherent in the form of a language are of minor importance only, and that presumably language alone would not prevent a people from advancing to more generalized forms of thinking, if the general state of their culture should require expression of such thought; that under these conditions, the language would be moulded rather by the cultural state. It does not seem likely, therefore, that there is any direct relation between the culture of a tribe and the language they speak, except in so far as the form of the language will be moulded by the state of culture, but not in so far as a certain state of culture is conditioned by morphological traits of the language.
Thus we have found that language does not furnish the much-looked-for means of discovering differences in the mental status of different races.
[3]. See map in Handbook of American Indians (Bulletin 30 of the Bureau of American Ethnology), part i (1907).