A more important and deeper-lying distinction between ‘usual’ and ‘occasional’ signification is that a word may have various ‘usual’ significations, but can only bear a single ‘occasional’ one; i.e. in each case of ‘occasional’ use the meaning is one and definite:[8] except, indeed, when the word is of set purpose used ambiguously, either to deceive, or to point a witticism; as in ‘If you get the best of port, port will get the best of you.’ It happens in all languages that there occur words identically pronounced which may be understood in different significations: and, for practical purposes, we must regard these as the same word, since whoever hears the sounds of which the word is composed spoken cannot, without the aid of the connection, possibly tell which of the senses is intended by the speaker to be attached to the word. Under this head must be ranged, in the first place, words which accidentally happen to correspond in sound, though they differ in meaning. The English language is particularly full of such words, owing, in some degree, to the coincidence of many words coming from Norman French with words coming from a Teutonic source. Such are mean, intend; mean, common; mean, moyen: match, a contest; match, mèche: sound, son and ge-sund. We have, in these and similar cases, instances of words which usually receive several significations. But besides these we have numerous words in English, as in other languages, which are etymologically identical and which yet have several significations. Such is the word box in English: it means in the first and most common case, ‘a chest to put things in;’ then, ‘a tree,’ ‘a small seated compartment in the auditorium of a theatre,’ ‘the driver’s seat on a carriage,’ ‘a present given at Christmas’ in the combination ‘a Christmas box;’ besides the meaning of a ‘box on the ear,’ which comes from a different source. Such, too, are: post = (1) ‘A stake in the ground,’ (2) ‘a professional situation,’ (3) ‘the system of delivering the mails;’ broom, the shrub, and broom, ‘a besom;’ bull, ‘a papal edict’ and ‘a blunder in language;’ canon, ‘a rule’ and ‘a church dignitary;’ to bait a horse and to bait a hook; a coach in the sense of ‘a teacher’ and of ‘a carriage;’ board, ‘a plank’ or ‘food supplied at lodging-houses:’ so in French, un radical, ‘a root in language,’ ‘a root in algebra,’ ‘a radical in chemistry,’ or ‘a radical politician;’ plume, ‘a feather,’ and plume, ‘a pen;’ Lat. examen, ‘swarm,’ ‘tongue of a balance,’ and ‘examination.’ It is true that the derived meanings in these words spring from a primary one, but it is equally true that it is impossible, without some knowledge of the history of the word, to recognise the original connection between the various significations; and these bear the same relations to each other as if the identity in sound were purely accidental. This is especially true in cases where the primary meaning has entirely disappeared, as in the case of villain, used now only in the uncomplimentary sense which circumstances have affixed to the word, save, indeed, in historical treatises; though even in its early sense it is no longer ‘the man who lives and works on the villa.’ It is the same with pagan, and recreant. Another good illustration is afforded by the word impertinent, which signifies (1) not pertinent (obsolete); (2) having no special pertinency, trifling; (3) rude. Etymology, working by comparison, often serves to detect such disappearances: thus N.H.G. klein, small, has lost its original meaning, that still appears in Eng. clean.
But in many cases, too, where we can still recognise the relationship of the derived to the primary signification, we must nevertheless acknowledge the independence of the derived meaning; especially where, as in the case of ‘post,’ it has become the usual one. The test, in these cases, of the independence of the word is whether a word ‘occasionally’ used in the derivative sense can be understood without any necessity arising for the primary meaning to force itself on the consciousness of the speaker or hearer. There are, further, two negative tests whereby we may judge that a word has not a simple, but a complex signification. The first of these is if no simple definition can be framed, including the whole of its meaning, and neither more nor less; and the second, if the word cannot, if employed ‘occasionally,’ be used in the whole extent of its signification. It is easy to apply these tests to the examples cited above. No simple definition of the word post would be possible; a whole series would be necessary to explain the meaning of the word to a foreigner. Again, any definition of the word post used in the ‘occasional’ sense of ‘a situation’ would leave the other meanings quite unexplained.
Even in cases where the ‘usual’ signification may be regarded as simple, the individual meaning may vary from this and yet may not become concrete, as it may develop on the lines of one of the special meanings included in the general conception. Thus the simple word pin may, in single cases, be understood as lynch-pin, hair-pin, etc.; so bye-law is now always used as if it were a secondary law.[9]
All understanding between individuals depends upon the correspondence in their psychical attitude. In order that a word may be understood in its ‘usual’ meaning, no more perfect mental correspondence is imperative than such as naturally exists between the members of a single linguistic community who have mastered their own language; should, however, the signification of a word be specialised in ‘occasional’ use, as when we speak of ‘the House,’ and understand thereby ‘the House of Parliament,’ a closer understanding must be supposed to exist among the speakers. The same words may be intelligible or otherwise, or, again, may be misunderstood, according to the state of mind of the person who is addressed; or, again, according to the chance surroundings, whose presence or absence may act as an aid or a drawback to the enforcement of the signification. And it seems well in this place to emphasise the fact that the body of ideas which may at any time be called up by a word is never the same in the case of any two speakers. The ideas will resemble each other less as the speakers are members of social communities more widely separated from each other, or more in proportion as the persons using the words possess similar degrees of cultivation or life-experience. For instance, we may understand all the words of a philosophic discussion, and still it may remain a mere jargon to us. This truth holds good even for the simplest language in its simplest stage. Hence it is that no perfect translation of a literary masterpiece is possible; especially if such be written in the idiom of a civilisation far removed from that of the translator, alike in the circuit of ideas, and in the way in which these ideas present themselves. Every expression is in fact accompanied by a store of associative suggestion, which must suffer loss to a greater or less extent in the attempt to insert an equivalent expression from a stranger tongue. It thus results that the interpreter of the language of a past civilisation must undertake by laborious study to reconstruct and attach to each expression the body of associations which should be its native environment. The aids necessary for understanding words in their ‘occasional’ meaning do not require to be of a linguistic nature at all; although they may, on the other hand, be so. We have seen before that abstract words may be rendered concrete by connecting them with such words as essentially express the concrete, and that the article is one of the chief of these words. Horse is abstract, but the horse is generally, as we have seen, concrete. But even this rule is not absolute, and consequently this aid is not absolutely sufficient; for we have seen that in expressions like The horse is a quadruped, the article has come to express the general conception. Again, there are languages, like Latin and Russian, which have developed no article; and these employ abstract words, with no special mark of denotation, for the concrete.
In any case, whether the reference to the ‘concrete’ is expressly denoted or not, other methods may be adopted to define it more closely. The first of these depends upon the common environment of the speaker and hearer, and upon the perception common to both. The hearer cannot fail to understand the speaker if, in referring to a tree or tower, he means the definite single tree or tower which they both have before their eyes. The speaker may point to the object in question, or may indicate its position by his gaze. Nay, such signs may serve to indicate objects not directly cognisable by the senses, provided that the direction in which these objects lie is known.
Another method whereby the word is made to refer to something definite and concrete is found in the recalling by the hearer of the past utterances of the speaker, or, it may be, in a special explanation which the speaker has given. If the hearer understands that a word is once intended to bear a concrete sense, then this same sense may continue to attach to the word throughout the rest of the conversation. If ‘the Church’ have once been spoken of in the sense of ‘the body of adherents to the Church of England,’ it will be understood that this is the sense in which the word ‘Church’ is to be apprehended for the rest of the conversation. The recollection of the previous utterance will take the place of immediate perception. Again, this reference to the past can be emphasised by words like demonstrative pronouns and adverbs. If, after using ‘the Church’ in a definite sense, I employ a phrase like ‘that Church’ or ‘that Church of which I spoke,’ it is clear that this word ‘that,’ whose function was originally merely to express a perception, serves in its new function to call attention to the individualisation of the signification and to render it intelligible to the hearer.
In the third place, anything is capable of being represented and understood as concrete, when the speaker and the hearer are so similarly circumstanced that the same thoughts naturally rise into the consciousness of both at once. Such agreement or correspondence depends upon such circumstances as common residence, common age, common tastes, business, or surroundings of the speakers. An instance of this is seen in the rhetorical usage commonly known as κατ’ ἐξοχην. If two people live near together in the country in the neighbourhood of a large town, they would both certainly understand by ‘going to town’ the town nearest to where they happen to live. If, on the other hand, they both had their business in London, they would certainly both understand ‘London’ by ‘town.’ Again, words like the town-hall, the square, the market are understood by the inhabitants of a particular town to refer to the town-hall or market of that particular town. Again, such words as the kitchen, the larder, when spoken of by members of a family, refer to the rooms in their particular house, which they know by these names. Thus, again, in speaking of Sunday, we mean the nearest Sunday to the day on which we are speaking; and, in fact, the Sunday can be fixed with perfect precision by merely affixing to the word Sunday a word expressing past or future; as, next Sunday, last Sunday. Words expressing relationship between persons are naturally and without effort transferred to persons who bear such relationship to hearer and speaker alike: and what is more, no doubt can arise from the use of the singular, as long as there is only one person who could naturally bear the description. Thus, if the children of a family speak to each other of ‘father’ or ‘mother,’ this concrete reference is just as intelligible to them as that of ‘the Queen’ or ‘the President’ to the British or the Americans respectively. Nay, even though the relationship exists only upon one side, whether of the speaker or the hearer, the reference may still be equally unmistakable, assuming that circumstances aid in pointing to the person named. If one man says to another ‘The wife is better,’ the hearer would at once understand that the speaker’s own wife was referred to, assuming that her illness had been previously discussed between the two.
In the fourth place, a speaker may employ some more closely defining word, as an epithet, in order to render his meaning more definite and concrete. Thus he might say, That is the old king’s palace, That is the royal castle. But even such defining epithets as these fail to give a perfect definition unless some other aid, like the memory aid of which we have spoken, or the aid of the situation, supports the definition. If the speakers have been conversing about ‘the old king,’ both palace and castle would receive a concrete significance from what had been said before. Thus, the phrase ‘the king’s castle’ comes to mean a single object only, when it is known that the king has only one castle, or if the hearer be referred to a single place, where he must know the castle to lie.
Finally, a concrete word may affect other words connected with it, and may give them a concrete sense as well. In sentences like John never moved a finger; I never laid hand upon him; I took him by the arm; You hit me on the shoulder, the words finger and hand get their concrete meaning from the subject, and arm and shoulder from the object.[10] In French, in the sentence, Il sauta dans l’eau, la tête la première, ‘la tête’ acquires its concrete sense from the subject.
Just as general names receive a definite concrete reference, so proper names applicable to different persons come to denote but a single one. It may be sufficient merely to speak of a man as ‘Charles’ in order to sufficiently identify him; and indeed such reference would suffice if he were before us, or had recently been mentioned. Again, even without this, the name ‘Charles’ would sufficiently identify any person within his own family, or within any other circle where no other ‘Charles’ was known. Under other circumstances, we must naturally define him more closely; as, ‘Charles the Sixth of France,’ ‘Charles the First of England.’ Just so, there are many places bearing the same name; but a single name is sufficient to define the place for the neighbourhood, and even for the world at large when the place happens to be the most important of the places called by the name: cf. Melbourne, Brisbane, London, Strassburg: otherwise a nearer definition has to be employed, as Stony Stratford, Newton-le-Willows.