We have in former chapters dealt with, and frequently alluded to, the fact that much which is new in derivation and inflection is due to analogy. Much is due to this, but not all; and we must now ask whence originated these processes of derivation and flection, which cannot be explained as due to analogy, i.e. those which, instead of being moulded on a given pattern, have, on the contrary, served as the model for others. It is clear that as soon as language arose, even in its most primitive state, words must have been combined syntactically, in however simple a manner. Groups of etymologically connected words, words derived the one from the other by suffixes (as long, length; king, kingdom) or by flection (as book, books; go, goes),—such groups need not have existed at once, nay, must have arisen only gradually, and in course of time. How did they arise? Theoretically, three ways only seem possible.
Words formed independently for cognate ideas, might accidentally resemble each other so closely as to group themselves also phonetically, i.e. to be sounded more or less alike; or—what is essentially the same, though not quite so improbable—words originally different and expressing different ideas, might, in course of time, so develop in meaning and sound as to become members of a group. A case somewhat of this nature we studied in our word bound (cf. page 194), which, originally different in sound and form from the then existing past participle of to bind, has come to resemble it so much in form, and was used in such a sense as to cause all but students of language to group these forms together.
A second way is a differentiation in sound, i.e. two forms may arise, under the influence of accent or other causes, from the same word, which two forms then come to be differentiated in meaning. We have in this way, for instance, the two forms of the past tense of the verb werden (to become) in German, ward and wurde. These arose absolutely independently of any difference in meaning; once having arisen, a custom sprang up of using the one (ward) as aorist and the other (wurde) by preference as imperfect tense.
That in the above examples, the form which later on became bound is not itself an original creation, or that, in German, the two forms of the past tense were due largely to analogy, does not affect their value as illustrative of our point. We readily understand that both these ways were and are possible, but, at the same time, that in only very few cases they have been followed.
Only one way of explaining the origin of flection remains—‘composition.’
In order to explain how derivation and flection can have been derived from composition, we will go somewhat deeply into the nature and application of the latter. We shall then see how impossible it is to draw a sharp line between syntactical co-ordination, composition, derivation, and flection anywhere, and then—and only then—we shall acquire an insight into the true nature of the subject of this chapter.
If we study the composition of words in the various Indo-European languages, we soon learn to distinguish two different kinds. In one we find the so-called crude forms (that is to say, those forms of the words which, WITH THE CASE-ENDINGS, make up what we now consider the complete word) combined with other crude forms, the last of which alone assumes these case-endings. To illustrate this we must of course go back to ancient languages, in which this crude form is clearly distinct from the nominative or any other case. We have plenty of such compounds even now in English and other modern languages; but, in consequence of the wearing off of terminations, the most undoubted examples would illustrate (i.e. throw light upon) nothing. In Sanscrit, for instance, there are three plants which in the nominative singular would be called çaças (or çaçaḥ), kuças (ḥ) or kuçam (masc. or neut.), and palâçam. It is the crude forms of these nouns (without their nominative—s and m) which are used in the compound çaça-kuça-palâçam, which indicates a collection of the three. Again râjâ (with long â) is the nominative form of a stem râjan (‘king’) or râja (with short a). In the compound râja-purushas (h) we again find the crude form, this time the shorter form of the base: purushas means ‘man’ and the whole (= ‘king-man’) stands for king’s man. We might illustrate this kind by such words as our tragi-comic, melodramatic (melos = ‘song’).
In the other kind of compounds we find two or more fully inflected forms combined in one group. This is the method of composition which survives in our present linguistic consciousness, which sees compounds of the second kind even in those which are historically connected with the Indo-European type, illustrated in the former paragraph by râja-purushas. The wearing off of well-nigh all case-endings has in the present language almost completely obliterated the difference between crude forms and nominatives of nouns and adjectives or the infinitives of verbs. Hence, at present, the ordinary speaker realises no difference between, e.g., noon in noon-tide and the word noon in It is noon. Yet the compound noon-tide belongs historically to the former class, and noon is there a ‘crude form,’ if we may still so call it. In our following study of composition as at present employed in the English language, we neglect the scientific origin, but base our classification on appearance; in the present case, on present linguistic consciousness. One of the fullest and best-known lists of compounds in the English language is perhaps that given by Morris (Histor. Outlines, p. 222). We shall largely draw upon it in the following study, though we have, in our enumeration, rather considered the character of the component parts than, as Mr. Morris does, that of the function of the compound.
I. Nouns are compounded with Nouns—
1. Both in the same case; i.e. in apposition, the one explanatory of, or defining the other (in which case one of the nouns has a function almost, if not quite, identical with that of an adjective). Instances are spear-plant, noon-tide, church-yard, headman, oak-tree, master-tailor, merchant-tailor, prince-regent, water-course, watershed, head-waiter, plough-boy, bishopdom (found in Milton, dom = ‘jurisdiction’), bishopric (ric = A.S. rîce, ‘power,’ ‘domain’), bandog (= band + dog), barn (bere, i.e. barley + ern, i.e. ‘storehouse’), bridegroom (bride + groom = goom = A.S. guma, ‘man’[191]), bridal (bride + ale = ‘bride-feast’), cowslip (cow + slip, A.S. cu-slyppe = ‘cow dung’), hussy (= ‘house-wife’—Skeat, Prin. Eng. Etymol., p. 422), Lord-lieutenant, earlmarshal, wer-wolf (‘man-wolf,’ A.S. wer = ‘a man’), world (weoruld, wer = ‘man’ + ældu = ‘age,’ ‘old age,’ ‘age of man’), yeoman (= ‘village-man’—see Skeat), orchard (A.S. orceard, ortgeard, metathesis = wort-yard = ‘vegetable-garden’), Lammas (= hláf-maesse = ‘loaf-mass,’ ‘day of offering,’ ‘first-fruits’), handi-work (hand + geweorc = ‘hand-work’), mildew (= ‘honey dew,’ mil = ‘honey,’ A.S. mele), penny-worth.