cratylus- 第15部分

perfected；　though　in　no　language　did　they　completely　perfect　themselves；

because　for　some　unknown　reason　the　motive　powers　of　languages　seem　to　have

ceased　when　they　were　on　the　eve　of　completion：　　they　became　fixed　or

crystallized　in　an　imperfect　form　either　from　the　influence　of　writing　and

literature；　or　because　no　further　differentiation　of　them　was　required　for

the　intelligibility　of　language。　　So　not　without　admixture　and　confusion

and　displacement　and　contamination　of　sounds　and　the　meanings　of　words；　a

lower　stage　of　language　passes　into　a　higher。　　Thus　far　we　can　see　and　no

further。　　When　we　ask　the　reason　why　this　principle　of　analogy　prevails　in

all　the　vast　domain　of　language；　there　is　no　answer　to　the　question；　or　no

other　answer　but　this；　that　there　are　innumerable　ways　in　which；　like

number；　analogy　permeates；　not　only　language；　but　the　whole　world；　both

visible　and　intellectual。　　We　know　from　experience　that　it　does　not　（a）

arise　from　any　conscious　act　of　reflection　that　the　accusative　of　a　Latin

noun　in　'us'　should　end　in　'um；'　nor　（b）　from　any　necessity　of　being

understood；much　less　articulation　would　suffice　for　this；　nor　（c）　from

greater　convenience　or　expressiveness　of　particular　sounds。　　Such　notions

were　certainly　far　enough　away　from　the　mind　of　primitive　man。　　We　may

speak　of　a　latent　instinct；　of　a　survival　of　the　fittest；　easiest；　most

euphonic；　most　economical　of　breath；　in　the　case　of　one　of　two　competing

sounds；　but　these　expressions　do　not　add　anything　to　our　knowledge。　　We　may

try　to　grasp　the　infinity　of　language　either　under　the　figure　of　a

limitless　plain　divided　into　countries　and　districts　by　natural　boundaries；

or　of　a　vast　river　eternally　flowing　whose　origin　is　concealed　from　us；　we

may　apprehend　partially　the　laws　by　which　speech　is　regulated：　　but　we　do

not　know；　and　we　seem　as　if　we　should　never　know；　any　more　than　in　the

parallel　case　of　the　origin　of　species；　how　vocal　sounds　received　life　and

grew；　and　in　the　form　of　languages　came　to　be　distributed　over　the　earth。



iii。　　Next　in　order　to　analogy　in　the　formation　of　language　or　even　prior

to　it　comes　the　principle　of　onomatopea；　which　is　itself　a　kind　of　analogy

or　similarity　of　sound　and　meaning。　　In　by　far　the　greater　number　of　words

it　has　become　disguised　and　has　disappeared；　but　in　no　stage　of　language　is

it　entirely　lost。　　It　belongs　chiefly　to　early　language；　in　which　words

were　few；　and　its　influence　grew　less　and　less　as　time　went　on。　　To　the　ear

which　had　a　sense　of　harmony　it　became　a　barbarism　which　disturbed　the　flow

and　equilibrium　of　discourse；　it　was　an　excrescence　which　had　to　be　cut

out；　a　survival　which　needed　to　be　got　rid　of；　because　it　was　out　of

keeping　with　the　rest。　　It　remained　for　the　most　part　only　as　a　formative

principle；　which　used　words　and　letters　not　as　crude　imitations　of　other

natural　sounds；　but　as　symbols　of　ideas　which　were　naturally　associated

with　them。　　It　received　in　another　way　a　new　character；　it　affected　not　so

much　single　words；　as　larger　portions　of　human　speech。　　It　regulated　the

juxtaposition　of　sounds　and　the　cadence　of　sentences。　　It　was　the　music；

not　of　song；　but　of　speech；　in　prose　as　well　as　verse。　　The　old　onomatopea

of　primitive　language　was　refined　into　an　onomatopea　of　a　higher　kind；　in

which　it　is　no　longer　true　to　say　that　a　particular　sound　corresponds　to　a

motion　or　action　of　man　or　beast　or　movement　of　nature；　but　that　in　all　the

higher　uses　of　language　the　sound　is　the　echo　of　the　sense；　especially　in

poetry；　in　which　beauty　and　expressiveness　are　given　to　human　thoughts　by

the　harmonious　composition　of　the　words；　syllables；　letters；　accents；

quantities；　rhythms；　rhymes；　varieties　and　contrasts　of　all　sorts。　　The

poet　with　his　'Break；　break；　break'　or　his　e　pasin　nekuessi

kataphthimenoisin　anassein　or　his　'longius　ex　altoque　sinum　trahit；'　can

produce　a　far　finer　music　than　any　crude　imitations　of　things　or　actions　in

sound；　although　a　letter　or　two　having　this　imitative　power　may　be　a　lesser

element　of　beauty　in　such　passages。　　The　same　subtle　sensibility；　which

adapts　the　word　to　the　thing；　adapts　the　sentence　or　cadence　to　the　general

meaning　or　spirit　of　the　passage。　　This　is　the　higher　onomatopea　which　has

banished　the　cruder　sort　as　unworthy　to　have　a　place　in　great　languages　and

literatures。



We　can　see　clearly　enough　that　letters　or　collocations　of　letters　do　by

various　degrees　of　strength　or　weakness；　length　or　shortness；　emphasis　or

pitch；　become　the　natural　expressions　of　the　finer　parts　of　human　feeling

or　thought。　　And　not　only　so；　but　letters　themselves　have　a　significance；

as　Plato　observes　that　the　letter　rho　accent　is　expressive　of　motion；　the

letters　delta　and　tau　of　binding　and　rest；　the　letter　lambda　of　smoothness；

nu　of　inwardness；　the　letter　eta　of　length；　the　letter　omicron　of

roundness。　　These　were　often　combined　so　as　to　form　composite　notions；　as

for　example　in　tromos　（trembling）；　trachus　（rugged）；　thrauein　（crush）；

krouein　（strike）；　thruptein　（break）；　pumbein　（whirl）；in　all　which　words

we　notice　a　parallel　composition　of　sounds　in　their　English　equivalents。　

Plato　also　remarks；　as　we　remark；　that　the　onomatopoetic　principle　is　far

from　prevailing　uniformly；　and　further　that　no　explanation　of　language

consistently　corresponds　with　any　system　of　philosophy；　however　great　may

be　the　light　which　language　throws　upon　the　nature　of　the　mind。　　Both　in

Greek　and　English　we　find　groups　of　words　such　as　string；　swing；　sling；

spring；　sting；　which　are　parallel　to　one　another　and　may　be　said　to　derive

their　vocal　effect　partly　from　contrast　of　letters；　but　in　which　it　is

impossible　to　assign　a　precise　amount　of　meaning　to　each　of　the　expressive

and　onomatopoetic　letters。　　A　few　of　them　are　directly　imitative；　as　for

example　the　omega　in　oon；　which　represents　the　round　form　of　the　egg　by　the

figure　of　the　mouth：　　or　bronte　（thunder）；　in　which　the　fulness　of　the

sound　of　the　word　corresponds　to　the　thing　signified　by　it；　or　bombos

（buzzing）；　of　which　the　first　syllable；　as　in　its　English　equivalent；　has

the　meaning　of　a　deep　sound。　　We　may　observe　also　（as　we　see　in　the　case　of

the　poor　stammerer）　that　speech　has　the　co…operation　of　the　whole　body　and

may　be　often　assisted　or　half　expressed　by　gesticulation。　　A　sound　or　word

is　not　the　work　of　the　vocal　organs　only；　nearly　the　whole　of　the　upper

part　of　the　human　frame；　including　head；　chest；　lungs；　have　a　share　in

creating　it；　and　it　may　be　accompanied　by　a　movement　of　the　eyes；　nose；

fingers；　hands；　feet　which　contributes　to　the　effect　of　it。



The　principle　of　onomatopea　has　fallen　into　discredit；　partly　because　it

has　been　supposed　to　imply　an　actual　manufacture　of　words　out　of　syllables

and　letters；　like　a　piece　of　joiner's　work；a　theory　of　language　which　is

more　and　more　refuted　by　facts；　and　more　and　more　going　out　of　fashion　with

philologians；　and　partly　also　because　the　traces　of　onomatopea　in　separate

words　become　almost　obliterated　in　the　course　of　ages。　　The　poet　of

language　cannot　put　in　and　pull　out　letters；　as　a　painter　might　insert　or

blot　out　a　shade　of　colour　to　give　effect　to　his　picture。　　It　would　be

ridiculous　for　him　to　alter　any　received　form　of　a　word　in　order　to　render

it　more　expressive　of　the　sense。　　He　can　only　select；　perhaps　out　of　some

dialect；　the　form　which　is　already　best　adapted　to　his　purpose。　　The　true

onomatopea　is　not　a　creative；　but　a　formative　principle；　which　in　the　later

stage　of　the　history　of　language　ceases　to　act　upon　individual　words；　but

still　works　through　the　collocation　of　them　in　the　sentence　or　paragraph；

and　the　adaptation　of　every　word；　syllable；　letter　to　one　another　and　to

the　rhythm　of　the　whole　passage。



iv。　　Next；　under　a　distinct　head；　although　not　separable　from　the

preceding；　may　be　considered　the　differentiation　of　languages；　i。e。　the

manner　in　which　differences　of　meaning　and　form　have　arisen　in　them。　　Into

their　first　creation　we　have　ceased　to　enquire：　　it　is　their　aftergrowth

with　which　we　are　now　concerned。　　How　did　the　roots　or　substantial　portions

of　words　become　modified　or　inflected？　and　how　did　they　receive　separate

meanings？　　First　we　remark　that　words　are　attracted　by　the　sounds　and

senses　of　other　words；　so　that　they　form　groups　of　nouns　and　verbs

analogous　in　sound　and　sense　to　one　another；　each　noun　or　verb　putting

forth　inflexions；　generally　of　two　or　three　patterns；　and　with　exceptions。　

We　do　not　say　that　we　know　how　sense　became　first　allied　to　sound；　but　we

have　no　difficulty　in　ascertaining　how　the　sounds　and　meanings　of　words

were　in　time　parted　off　or　differentiated。　　（1）　The　chief　causes　which

regulate　the　variations　of　sound　are　（a）　double　or　differing　analogies；

which　lead　sometimes　to　one　form；　sometimes　to　another　（b）　euphony；　by

which　is　meant　chiefly　the　greater　pleasure　to　the　ear　and　the　greater

facility　to　the　organs　of　speech　which　is　given　by　a　new　formation　or

pronunciation　of　a　word　（c）　the　necessity　of　finding　new　expressions　for

new　classes　or　processes　of　things。　　We　are　told　that　changes　of　sound　take

place　by　innumerable　gradations　until　a　whole　tribe　or　community　or　society

find　themselves　acquiescing　in　a　new　pronunciation　or　use　of　language。　　Yet

no　one　observes　the　change；　or　is　at　all　aware　that　in　the　course　of　a

lifetime　he　and　his　contemporaries　have　appreciably　varied　their　intonation

or　use　of　words。　　On　the　other　hand；　the　necessities　of　language　seem　to

require　that　the　intermediate　sounds　or　meanings　of　words　should　quickly

become　fixed　or　set　and　not　continue　in　a　state　of　transition。　　The　process

of　settling　down　is　aided　by　the　organs　of　speech　and　by　the　use　of　writing

and　printing。　　（2）　The　meaning　of　words　varies　because　ideas　vary　or　the

number　of　things　which　is　included　under　them　or　with　which　they　are

associated　is　increased。　　A　single　word　is　thus　made　to　do　duty　for　many

mor