Several other considerations to the same general effect might be adduced. But, to mention only some of the more important, Steinthal points out that imitative utterance differs widely even among different races of existing men, so that the onomatopoetic words of one race do not convey any imitative suggestion to the minds of another.[201] Similarly, Professor Sayce insists, “it is not necessary that the imitation of natural sounds should be an exact one; indeed, that it never can be: all that is wanted is that the imitation should be recognizable by those addressed. The same natural sound, consequently, may strike the ear of different persons very differently, and so be represented in articulate speech in a strangely varying manner.”[202] Another very good illustration of the same point is to be found in the names for a grasshopper in different languages. After giving a number, Archdeacon Farrar remarks that obviously they are “all imitative: yet how immensely varied by the fantasies of imitation! How is this to be explained? Simply by the fact to which it is so often necessary to recur, that words are not mere imitations, but subjective echoes and reproductions—repercussions which are modified both organically and ideally—which have moreover been immensely blurred and disintegrated by the lapse of ages.”[203]

But perhaps the best illustration that has been given of this point is in the different words which obtain in different languages as names for Thunder. Two independent treatises have been written on the subject, one by Grimm,[204] and the other by Pott.[205] While in nearly all the languages the principle of imitation is more or less clearly apparent, the greatest diversities occur among the resulting sounds.[206] In this connection, also, I may adduce yet one further consideration. In his Introduction to the Science of Language, Professor Sayce argues on several grounds that, when articulation first began, the articulate sounds were probably in large part dependent for their meaning on the gestures with which they were accompanied. Consequently, aboriginal root-words, even supposing that any such had come down to us, and that their origin were imitative, inasmuch as their imitative value may thus have in large part depended on appropriately accompanying gestures, their imitative source would long ago have become obscured.

In view of all these considerations, therefore, I cannot deem the merely negative evidence against the onomatopoetic origin of articulate sounds as of any value at all. Even if we had any reason to suppose that philological analysis were in possession of the really aboriginal commencements of spoken language, we should still be unable reasonably to conclude against their imitative origin, merely on the ground that in our greatly altered circumstances of life and of mind we are not now able to trace the imitations.

As a matter of fact, however, the evidence which we have on the subject is not all negative. On the contrary, there is an overwhelming body of actual and unquestionable proof of the imitative origin of very many words in all languages—especially those which are spoken by savages, and are known from their general structure to be in a comparatively undeveloped state. The evidence being much too copious for quotation, I must content myself with referring to the excellent and most forcible epitome which is given of it by Archdeacon Farrar in his works on the Origin of Language and Chapters on Language.[207] The foregoing remarks, therefore, which I have made on the negative side of the question, are merely intended to show that the element of onomatopœia must have entered into the composition of aboriginal speech much more largely than philologists are now able to prove, notwithstanding that they have been able to prove how immensely important an element it has been in this respect. The only wonder is, that when so many causes have been at work in obscuring and corroding the originally imitative significance of words, this significance should still admit of being traced in all languages—even the most highly conventionalized—to the very large extent in which it does.

The hostility which Professor Max Müller has displayed to the onomatopoetic theory of the origin of language is the more remarkable, because in his latest work he has enthusiastically embraced a special branch of this theory, which has been put forward by M. Noiré. This special branch of the onomatopoetic theory is that articulate sign-making had its origin in sounds which are made by bodies of men when engaged in some common occupation. When sailors row, soldiers march, builders co-operate in pulling or in lifting, &c., there is always a tendency to give vent to appropriate sounds, which the nature of the occupation usually breaks up into rhythmic periods. “These utterances, noises, shouts, hummings, or songs are a kind of natural reaction against the inward disturbance caused by muscular effort. They are the almost involuntary vibrations of the voice, corresponding to the more or less regular movements of our whole bodily frame.” The hypothesis, therefore, is that sounds thus naturally evolved, and differing with different occupations, would sooner or later come to be conventionally used as the names of these different occupations. And, if thus used habitually, they would be virtually the same as words, inasmuch as they would not merely admit of immediate understanding on the part of others, but, what is even of more importance, they would, by the mere fact of such conventional usage of names, elevate what had previously been but a receptual appreciation of an act into a pre-conceptual designation of it.

Now, I say that this hypothesis, whatever may be thought as to its probability, is clearly but a special branch of the general theory of onomatopœia. So that primitive names were intentionally imitative of natural sounds, for all the purposes of onomatopoetic theory it makes no difference whether such sounds were made by natural objects or by man himself. Nor, of the natural sounds which were made by man himself, does it in any way affect this theory whether the naturally human sounds were “interjectional” only, “co-operative” only, or sometimes one and sometimes the other. If, following the example set by Professor Max Müller, I may be allowed to designate Noiré’s special branch of the onomatopoetic theory as the Yeo-he-ho theory, it appears to me impossible to distinguish it in any essential particular from those other branches which are called by him the Bow-wow and Pooh-pooh theories—i.e. the imitative and the interjectional. Yet he has become as ardent a supporter of the one branch as he was a vehement opponent of the others.[208]

For my own part, I think it highly probable that there is an element of truth in the Yeo-he-ho theory, although I deem it in the last degree improbable that imitative sounds of this kind constituted the only source of aboriginal speech. At the most, it seems to me, this branch of onomatopœia can be accredited with supporting but a small proportional part of aboriginal language-growth. Nevertheless, as already observed, I can have no doubt at all that the principle of onomatopœia in all its branches has been the most important of all principles which were concerned in the first genesis of speech. That is to say, I fully agree with the almost unanimous voice of philological authority on this matter, which may be tersely expressed by allowing Professor Whitney to act as spokesman.

“Beyond all reasonable question, there was a positively long period of purely imitative signs, and a longer one of mixed imitative and traditional ones, the latter gradually gaining upon the former, before the present condition of things was reached, when the production of new signs by imitation is only sporadic and of the utmost rarity, and all language-signs besides are traditional, their increase in any community being solely caused by variation and combination, and by borrowing from other communities.”[209]

But now, having thus stated as emphatically as possible my acceptance of the theory of onomatopœia, I have to express dissent from many of its more earnest advocates where they represent that it is necessarily the only theory to be entertained. In other words, I do not agree with the dogma that articulate speech cannot possibly have had any source, or sources, other than that which is supplied by vocal imitations.[210] For, on merely antecedent grounds, I can see no adequate reason for arbitrarily excluding the possibility of arbitrary invention. If even civilized children, who are not under the discipline of the “mother of invention,” will coin a language of their own in which the element of onomatopœia is barely traceable;[211] and if uneducated deaf-mutes will spontaneously devise articulate sounds which are necessarily destitute of any imitative origin;[212] I do not see why it should be held antecedently impossible that primitive man can have found any other means of word-formation than that which is supplied by mimicry. Therefore, while I fully agree with Professor Wundt in holding that the question before us is one to be dealt with by psychology rather than philology (seeing that language cannot record the conditions of its own birth, and that so many causes have been at work to obliterate aboriginal onomatopœia), I cannot follow him where he argues that on grounds of psychology there is no room for any other inference than that the principle of onomatopœia in its widest sense must have constituted the sole origin of significant articulation.[213]