# Essays on the Chinese Language (1889)/4

CHAPTER IV.
ON THE INTERJECTIONAL AND IMITATIVE ELEMENTS IN THE CHINESE LANGUAGE.
The faculty of speech, as we have seen, is regarded by Chinese philosophers as a part of man's natural endowment. But this faculty needs the guidance and control of the most highly endowed men for its proper application and right development. These men give fit names and correct forms of expression for the various objects of sense, the processes of thought and feeling, and all the outward acts of life. There are, however, expressive sounds made by the human voice with which the king and the philosopher do not interfere. Such sounds are prompted by nature and own no law save that of use and wont. The curious scholar may note them down as he hears them from the lips of the people. He may tell also with explanatory theory how the common speech of one district has a set of natural sounds which differs from that in the speech of another district. But more than this neither ruler nor philosopher will attempt, or, attempting, will achieve.
The naturally expressive sounds here referred to are the cries, calls, mimicking noises, and all the picturesque expressions which we are wont to have classified as Interjectional or Emotional and Imitative Language. It will be seen as we proceed that in Chinese as in other languages some of the involuntary and inarticulate ejaculations are adopted into the family of words, and that mere mimicking sounds may come to be used as names or epithets. Until lately such utterances as these were treated by grammarians and philologists with contempt and neglect, and it is only since the impartial and methodical study of language arose that they have come to acquire dignity and importance. ​The old writers on grammar could not away with these ejaculations and imitations, which had no accidence whatever and could not properly be counted among the "parts of speech." Even their place in a sentence could not be defined. Nay more, they could not properly be called articulate human speech, but were rather of a kind with the calls and cries of the brute creation, — as though that were aught to their shame. Now, on the other hand, they are in danger of being raised to an importance beyond their merits, and of having to bear too heavy a burden. For some will have it that in these rude cries and mimicking sounds all human speech had its root and beginning, maintaining that man passed from a mute condition to this stage of ejaculations and imitations, and thence by a gradual improvement to artistic speech of various degrees. But whether we take this view, or hold rather with those who teach that the origin of language is to be found in a few abstract roots created by reflection, or adopt a theory intermediate between these, we cannot deny that Emotional and Imitative utterances are important elements in the formation and development of language. It must at least be conceded that they are the immediate source from which a large part of the vocabulary of most dialects flows, and that they yield these some of their most noteworthy and forcible expressions.
The Chinese language is very rich in these nature-sounds and "vocal-gestures" which abound not only in the common talk of the people but also in the popular literature and in the writings of poets and philosophers. They are, however, regarded by the native scholar generally as worthy of nothing more than a passing notice or a terse definition. When he meets one in a book on which he is commenting, he is content to give merely a short explanation of what he conceives to be or what he has been taught is its use or meaning in the passage. He has certain loose classifications for these natural vocal expressions, and distinguishes them somewhat fitfully as "empty characters," as aids to expression, as popular terms, or as sounds indicative of, or imitating or otherwise recalling natural phenomena. The ​nature-sounds and vocal gestures vary greatly from time to time and from place to place, and, moreover, they are often unnoticed in dictionaries and other works bearing on the language. Consequently we cannotbeasily gain a just conception of their number, the extent to which they are used, and the precise mode of their application. Many of them, however, are apparently of little or no importance, and can scarcely be said to enter into the composition of the language, using this word with a liberal interpretation. Others are interesting to the Western student from their use, their form, the relation they bear to other elements of Chinese speech, or on account of the analogy they have to the resources of other tongues for performing like functions. A brief and necessarily very imperfect review of some of the most common and some of the most important or interesting of these Chinese nature-sounds is attempted in this chapter. The examples given have been culled from the speech of the people at various places and from a few books by native authors. Some of the Vocabularies and Dictionaries compiled by foreigners have also been laid under contribution.
Describing the material or "elements of articulate speech," Canon Farrar writes — "Now, the natural sensuous life expresses itself in three kinds of natural sound, viz., Interjections, Imitations, and those sounds, expressive of some desire, which in imitation of the German Lautgeberden we may roughly designate as vocal gestures. Aspirates and vowels are generally sufficient to express the mere passing emotions of the natural life; consonants are more the expression of the free intelligence. Interjections are the arbitrary expression of subjective impressions; Imitations advance a step further, spontaneously reproducing something which has influenced the senses from without; Lautgeberden, though, like interjections, they have their source in the subject, are not a mere utterance of passive sensation, but an energetic expression of will, though as yet only in the form of desire." Long before Farrar wrote the above, Endlicher in his Chinese Grammar had devoted a section to the Interjections. Under this head he includes Sensation-sounds and Exclamations ​or Interjections proper, Imitations of natural sounds, and cries of calling and driving away.
Beginning then with Interjections, which are words or "parts of speech used to express some passion or emotion of the mind," we find the Chinese using these on all kinds of occasions. Some of them are to be heard now in nearly every part of the empire, while others do not travel beyond certain limited districts. Few of these exclamations can be written out in letters so as to give a fair idea of the way in which they are uttered, for they are made up not only of vowels and consonants but also of tone, emphasis, and other elements. The characters used to represent them in writing, moreover, are not constant, and in most cases little importance should be attached to the characters employed. As these ejaculations are in many cases well known, we need not do more here than merely notice a few.
One that may be heard every day is the ai-ya of Mandarin, with its variations oi-ya and hai-ya. This is an exclamation of surprise, or pain, or admiration, according to the circumstances in which it is used, and sometimes, when uttered slowly, it is expressive of great suffering. It may also be used as a noun or verb, as when it is said of a man that he ai-ya-liao, that is, shouted ai-ya, literally ai-ya-ed. We sometimes find this exclamation heading the burden of pathetic and other songs. Thus we have Ai-ya-i-hu-hai (printed 哎呀𠲔呼唊) which makes the sad refrain of a song in which a disconsolate wife mourns the departure of her husband on a fighting expedition. So also wa or wa-wa is a very common exclamation of surprise or delight or great distress. It also forms part of the refrain of some melancholy songs, as in the Wa-hu-i-wa-hu (printed 哇呼一哇呼) of the pitiful "Ten Flowers." The character used to represent the sound wa has several other uses which seem to be mainly imitative in origin. It also stands for other sounds, such as wo, ho, and it is of very old ​date in the language. While being beaten or otherwise tortured or punished before a mandarin, or while suffering severe bodily pain of any kind, a Chinaman will sometimes groan, uttering a low prolonged sound like hêng-hêng. And so hêng became a word which is generally represented in writing by 哼 and denotes a moan, or sigh, or groan, and to utter a moan or groan. An instance of this last use of the word will occur to those who have learned the Hundred Lessons. In one of these a friend relates to another how he went to see a certain man about an affair of a common friend, and describes the bad treatment which he received. At the interview, however, the horrid creature (k‘o-wu-ti-tung-hsi) was allowed to "pay out" all his stock of abuse, while the visitor listened patiently without uttering a single groan—"did not hêng a single sound." In books, however, and in official documents we often find the double form hêng-ho (or ha) used in this way, as in expressions like Ssŭ-pai-pan-tzŭ-mei-ko-hêng-ha, that is, he received four hundred blows without uttering a moan of pain. This hêng-ha, or a similar sound, is made, morever, by workmen while pounding earth or engaged in any labour of a like nature. They also moan or sigh out a sound which is expressed as han or ahan while doing work which requires vigorous exertion. This sound resembles somewhat the French workman's cry of han or ahan, and this last is used also as a legitimate part of speech. The Chinese hum, or moan, or groan, or chant at nearly every kind of work which calls for continued or united exertion. They sometimes even shout and howl, as their soldiers, for example, when tilting in their mock military combats. To yell in this way is generally denoted by the han or na-han (吶喊) already mentioned. This term is also used to denote the loud shout or war-cry with which Chinese soldiers attack an enemy or make an assault. It is possible that the cries and groans of the Chinese soldier and workman are to be explained as Cicero explains those made by the Roman athletes. The latter, he tells us, groan not from pain or lack of courage, but because in making the ejaculations all the body is kept on the stretch, and the stroke comes with more force. A ​common interjection is the exclamation hü, with the variations hsü and yü (written 吁 and occasionally 于). This expresses alarm, terror, or mental anguish, and comes to mean to sigh or grieve. It also often indicates merely displeasure or dissatisfaction, but the sound which it gives is an uncertain one. Hence it frequently needs the help of another interjection to render its use distinct and precise. With it, for example, we find the sound now tsie or chie (嗟) but formerly tso or ts'o or cho. Thus Hü-tso-ming-pu-shu (吁嗟命不淑) is, "alas for the premature death!" This tso or tsie is also originally only an exclamation, and in the mouth of an emperor it is a mere Lo! or Ah! to call attention or head an utterance. Then it becomes an exclamation of pity or distress, sometimes used singly, and sometimes repeated, and sometimes with hü, tsŭ or some other interjection preceding. So we find such expressions as Tsie-wo-fu-tzŭ (嗟我婦子), "Ah! our wives and childen." Then it is verb meaning to pity, as in tsie yuan-shĭ-nü (嗟遠士女) "I pity the wife of the far-off warrior." In the line tsie-tsie-shi-yü-shên (世與身) it means to sigh or grieve for. "I sigh sadly for the world and myself."
As an example of the heaping up of interjections for the sake of force, let us take the first line of a celebrated poem on the Hardships of travelling in Ssŭchuan. The poet says of the road, I-hü-hi-wei-hu-kao-tsai (噫吁嚱危乎高哉), He hie-hu! how perilous, how high! But let us take the old sigh expressed in sound by ei, ai, wa, and represented in writing by the character now read ai (哀). In the fortunes of this word we seem to be able to trace the ideal progress of language from the brute cry to the speech of civilised man. We find it as a mere exclamation, an interjection of pity or pain or sorrow on the part of the speaker, like the ouai, guai, wo of other languages. Thus ai-ai-fu-mu is "alas! alas! my parents!" Here the repetition of the sound serves to express the subjective feeling of deep distress, as the commentator says, it "emphasizes the sad affliction of the person" (重自哀傷也). Then ai is used in the sense of a sighing, a sadness, as in the phrase, Wu-hu-yu-ai (於乎有哀 said to be i here), "Oh! alas," in Dr. Legge's translation. Here yu-ai means, "It is sad, it is ​deplorable." As a noun, ai denotes sorrow, distress, affliction, and so used it is of very common occurrence. One name for the staff or rod borne by a son at a parent's funeral, as will be seen presently, is ai-chang, the staff of sorrow. And in the "Shi-ching" we find the statement "Our hearts are sorely distressed and mo-chih-wo-ai, no one knows our sadness." As an adjective, ai means sad, mournful, to be pitied, compassionate. In this use it sometimes has the adjectival particle cho added, as in ai-cho, the compassionate. The particle is not needed, however, and we find ai-t'ai (駘), a "sorry jade." So also ai-ko (歌), are woeful ditties, sad songs which sung-k'u-yen (送苦言), "go with words of misery." It will be remembered also that Confucius characterised the first poem in the "Shi-ching" as "joyful but not licentious, sad but not painful" (哀而不傷). To those who die young this word is given as a posthumous epithet by way of reverence. So used it means "the regretted," desideratissimi. The phrase ai-tsai is sometimes simply equivalent to wo! alas! or some such exclamation. But it has also the force of "to be pitied," " it is hard with" or "ill for." In the "Shi-ching" we find it contrasted with ko (哿), which means "to be well with." Thus the rich are said to be well off while the desolate are ai-tsai, in a pitiable plight. Then ai becomes a verb, and it is now explained as a synonym for shang (傷), to be afflicted, or min (閔), to mourn for or with. So the expression jen-chie-ai-chih (人皆哀之) means "everybody mourned for him." It is laid down also that in the religious services to one's parents the mourner must ai, and in this connection the word is interpreted as meaning "to weep aloud." Hence comes the expression ai-hsiang (響), the noise of wailing, that is, in a house of mourning. It was perhaps from being used in this way the word came to have the meaning of death, or to die. For reporting to Peking the decease of a tributary ruler, the prescribed term is kao-ai (告哀), to announce mourning. The word is further used in the sense of to pity, as when it is said of an emperor that he ai-wu-ku (無辜), pities the innocent. It is also applied to a horse, and we read in a popular poem of a good horse pei (悲) ai, neighing ​neighing woefully. Then ai is used as an adverb in such common expressions as ai-k‘u (哭), to weep sadly, ai-ch‘iu (求), to beseech mournfully, pray for earnestly, and ai-ai-kao-kao, very piteously to call and call for mercy. It also becomes an abstract noun meaning the emotion of sorrow. Thus ai and lo are often mentioned together as sorrow and joy; and the Emotions are classified as joy, anger, sorrow (ai) and delight.
From the Interjections, properly so called, we pass on to the vocal-gestures. These may serve at times as calls or requests like our hush! hallo! or they may denote assent or dissent, but they always have reference to other objects. They are often accompanied by facial expressions and bodily gestures, which may be used as substitutes for them if occasion so requires. There is, for example, the Foochow exclamation hai or hai-hai! An angry woman scolding another woman too far off to hear, scrapes her own face with her fore-fingers. This action means faciem perfricuisti, you are a shameless quean, you have scraped off the modest powder. When she can be heard by her victim, the virago cries out hai-hai, usually accompanying the exclamation by the scraping of the face. The hai-hai intensifies the meaning of shame! or shameless creature! which the gesture is intended to convey. So also the cry of tsü or ch‘ü often accompanies the scornful, insulting gesture of pointing the middle finger at one.
The cry hsü or hü has been already noticed. It is often a call to attention, and often a whew! of dissent, distrust, or disbelief. An exclamation which is in common use over at least a great part of China is that which sounds like t‘ssŭ. When this is uttered in a gentle, smiling manner it signifies admiration or pleasure, but when it is uttered in a loud tone and repeated with emphasis it expresses dislike or disgust. In this latter use it resembles our hiss, and it is sometimes heard as such in theatres and other places of public resort. It can be employed as a noun ​or verb, and we may occasionally hear the expression ni-t‘ssŭ-shen-mo, meaning, at what are you hissing? This phrase is common about Tientsin, where the use of it may constitute the second step towards a fight. Then we have p‘i (sometimes represented in books by 𠳝, which means get out, avaunt thee! It is used, as Premare says, contemptuously and in abusing a man as it were to his face. The p‘ei or p‘ui of Foochow and other places is perhaps only another form of this p‘i. Foochow people generally utter the p‘ui with great emphasis, and sometimes it is used like fie, in "Fie, fie, for shame." "Of all swiche cursed stories I say fy." Sometimes p‘ui, like p‘i, is used in the sense of begone! out of my sight! Another remarkable and well-known vocal-gesture is the Cantonese ch‘oi or ts‘oi, which may mean, according to the circumstances in which it is uttered, hush! shame! nonsense! or, don't, though I wish you would!
Some of these seeming inarticulate sounds are in reality actual words or the ruins or changed forms of words. Thus we hear ei in the sense of yes, quite so, but this ei is perhaps only a corruption of wei (唯) with a similar meaning. This wei (or yei) as an exclamation of assent or attention is to be found in early Chinese literature. It is to be used in acknowledging the call of a parent or teacher, and corresponds to yes, Sir. It also implies prompt and respectful attention to the call, while no (諾) is anon, anon, and conveys no hint of immediate answer. Another old particle of assent is a or aw (阿), the use of which was formerly regarded as very discourteous. But it is not always employed to denote Yes! or Here! and often it merely serves to indicate that the person addressed has heard the speaker. The shout of applause heard in a theatre or at a public meeting is only the word hao, good, uttered loud and emphatically by the audience. But the hist sound, which is employed as among ourselves to order silence, is a true vocal-gesture. It is like the wheest! of provincial English.
Let us now go on to notice some of the Sound-imitations in Chinese, beginning with a few of those which are attempts to reproduce or recall the sounds made by inanimate nature. ​Though with us these utterances cannot properly be called words, yet in Chinese they often do the duty of a verb, noun, or other "part of speech," and in such cases they may claim to be regarded as words. These expressions have been little attended to by Western students of this language, and Edkins, who gives ten examples in his Shanghai Grammar, apologizes in the following terms: "Words of this sort occur so frequently in conversation, that at the risk of their being thought too amusing for a serious book, they are here noticed." In the present treatise mention is made of only a few of the more striking of these imitations, or of those which are met with frequently.
The common word for wind in Mandarin is fêng, but older forms of this word are preserved in hung, hong, pong, varieties of it which occur in several dialects. These seem to point to a primitive attempt to imitate one of the many noises made by the wind. There are also several names for particular varieties of storm and wind, and these, too, seem to be imitative in origin. So also apparently is kua (颳) the common term used with fêng to denote there is a storm, it blows. And ch‘ui (吹), which means "to blow into sound," and then "to play on any wind instrument," is perhaps similar in its origin. Then for the ways in which the wind blows, and the various noises it makes, there are specific imitative terms. Thus hsi-hsi-ku-fêng (習習谷風) is hsi-hsi, that is, gently breathes, the east wind. So also liu-liu expresses the blowing of a moderate wind, and ch‘ên-ch‘ên (陳) that of a gentle breeze. Then hu-la-la (䬍𩘊𩘊) is the noise of a fierce sudden gale, and sa-sa is a name for a sudden storm. Again, tsê-tsê imitates the noise made by the breeze among the dry leaves of a forest in autumn, when "Es Saüselt der Wind in den Blättern." The whistling of a gale is expressed by sak-sak, and kuah-lah-kuah-lah, given by Edkins, is "the wind blowing on reeds," while mu-mu is the moaning of a breeze in the shrouds of a vessel.
There are also several picturesque expressions for rain, descriptive of the ways it comes down. Thus we find pa-ta-pa-ta for the pattering of the rain-drops; shua-shua for the sound ​ of a shower; p'ang-t'ê-'p'ang-tê expressing a heavy downfall; and ping-pang or pin-pak for the rattling of rain on the tiles, but according to Edkins ping-pang is also the noise made by hail. The term ch'ên-ch'ên which, as we have seen, is used of wind, is applied also to rain. In each case it is not so much the sound that is indicated as the fact that there is a series, as it were, of little breezes and soft showers. The drizzle is mêng-mêng; the drip drip of the hesitating shower is tien-tien; and siao-siao expresses heavy driving rain. This same sound siao-siao is used also to express the neighing of horses heard afar, and the susurrus of wind among trees.
The thunder makes hung-hung, and sometimes it is said to make a great hung. This sound hung is also used for any rumbling, rolling noise, such as that made by a number of carriages or waggons, and hence the character now used to represent it (轟) is made up of that for carriage with two repetitions. This term hung is also used to denote the thunder of a company of horsemen galloping. Another term for the rattling, rumbling noise made by a carriage on a road is lu-lu. Thus "the noise of his carriage continued to be heard when he had gone far past the palace," is expressed by kung-ch'ê-kuo-ye-lu-lu-yuan-t'ing (宮車過也轆轆遠聽).
Other sounds made by inert matter when acted on from without are also fruitful subjects for imitation. Thus the sound made by the falling of a large stone or other heavy object on the ground is expressed in the Foochow dialect by pong-pong. Hence any dull, heavy sound is often spoken of by the Foochow people simply as a pong-pong. In like manner p'êng-p'ong, in the same dialect, imitates the noise made by timber and other materials cracking and splitting. So we find that a Foochow man will often speak of a p'êng-p'ong instead of saying crack or split. The sound pêng, like our bang, is used generally to represent the noise made by a gun or cannon. Hence a pêng-pêng-ping (or soldier) is an artillery-man, and a pêng-pêng mandarin is pidgin English for an artillery officer. Têng-têng and other expressions are also used to imitate the noise made by the firing of cannon. A drum ​is ku, and the name was perhaps given to represent the sound made by the primitive drum when beaten with a stick. The Chinese do not commonly say that the drum "sounds" or "rolls," but they say it t‘ong-t‘ong, or kiai-kiai, or pêng-pêng. "Bang-whang-whang goes the drum, tootle-te-tootle the fife." In Chinese the fife is called ti (笛), and this name also is perhaps derived from its sound.
Let us now pass on to notice some of those words and expressions made to imitate or suggest the calls, cries, and other sounds produced by birds, beasts, and insects. These, it will be seen, are often the rude matter out of which true speech is formed, and not seldom they are themselves actual grammatical terms. In Chinese, as in other languages, such expressions often give their names to animals, especially to birds and insects.
The old popular poetry found in the "Shi-ching" and the "Ku-shi-yuan" affords many examples of these attempts to imitate or recall in language the inarticulate utterances made by the brute creatures, and these in many cases are still well known and used in common literature. The first poem of the "Shi-ching" begins, Kuan-kuan the chü-chiu. Dr. Legge renders the line rather funnily by "kuan-kuan go the ospreys," where the word "go" is not needed. The chü-chiu are rather wild duck or wild geese than ospreys, and the poet says, "The wild duck quack-quack." By this he means to express that in the flock every drake has his duck, that they pair for life, and that drake and duck quack and dilly in loving harmony. In the same treatise we find yao-yao (or yu-yu) as the noise made by locusts or "grass insects," and the harmonious call of deer; huang-huang the noise made by a swarm of locusts; ao-ao (or gao-gao) as the melancholy cry of wild geese; suh-suh the rustling of the geese's wings; ying-ying and mien-man as the notes of certain birds. We find the same imitative sounds applied to different creatures, including man, and we find the call or sound made by one animal represented by several different sounds. The songs of birds and the stridulations of insects do not sound alike to all ears. In England, for example, to one the nightingale sings whit, whit, ​whit, and to another jug, jug, jug; at least a part of his song is to some ocy, ocy, and to another "Fie, fie! fie! now would she cry; Tereu, Tereu! by and by." So in Chinese also, to denote the call of one bird, for example, we find in several cases a number of very different forms of expression.
The magpie calls (ming 鳴) cha-cha, or, as others hear, k‘ah-k‘ah. This bird is called in Mandarin hsi-chio, which is interpreted as meaning Bird of Joy (喜鵲), but it is probably imitative in origin. In Foochow the magpie is called k‘ah-ch‘iu, the bird which k‘ah-k‘ah's. The Cantonese hear the owl hoot lum-lum and so they call him lum-lum or the lum-lum-tseuk (bird), the Ulula. It is probable that lum-lum, which is purely colloquial, is extended to other birds which also make night hideous. The oriole's call is li-liu uttered slowly and repeated ad lib., and hence comes one of the bird's names, huang (yellow)-li-liu (黃栗留). But some reproduce his call by kiao-kiao, and others by other sounds. Further, the learned say that the Bamboo Partridge (Bambusicola) cries ni-hua-hua, ni-hua-hua (泥滑滑), and from this fact it gets one of its names. But to the country people this bird says in its call hing-pu-té-ko-ko (行不得哥哥), hing-pu-té-ko-ko, that is, "can't get on, elder brother," and this term is used as a familiar name for him. Man brings an ear for all he hears in the world of nature. So according to his mood he finds pleasure or sorrow in the chirruping and chattering of creatures which chirrup and chatter from an inner impulse. But we also know that the children of nature have been taught by her to utter distinct and different sounds when excited by fear, pain or delight.
Cum pecudes mutæ, cum denique sæcla ferarum
Dissimilis soleant voces variasque ciere,
Cum metus aut dolor est et cum jam gaudia gliscunt.
To one man, or at one time, the swallow may "pipe and trill and cheep and twitter twenty million loves." To another, or on a different occasion, it may chatter (tsap-tsep) as it wheels airy circles in an agony of despair. To the Chinese also the swallow, or rather the house-martin, is sometimes distressed, and chatters chiao-chiao or chow-chow; or it merely twitters yi-yi, and so tells its proper name yi or yi-yen (𩾐 or 乙燕).
​The cricket is called si-su (蟋蟀) in Mandarin, sik-sut (or sik-tsut) in Cantonese, and ssŭ-tszĕ in the Ningpo dialect. Another name for it, common in North China, is ch‘ü-'ch‘ü (蛐蛐). These sounds are plainly attempts to imitate the call of the cricket, what we call its chirr, as in the expression "not a cricket chirr'd," and the French call its cri-cri. The cicada is properly called ch'an (蟬) or shan, and the old pronunciation was apparently tzan or zhan, thus evidently imitative. It is also known as the ki-liu, from the ki-ri, ki-ri it repeats with painful iteration the whole long days of autumn. This hoarse creature's din is to the Chinese a melancholy monotony, for it calls the hoar frost and warns them that the summer is past, the autumn going, and the winter at hand. A field cricket, as long as its mouth is above ground, screams la-la-la-la. From this arose its name la-la-ku, a name which seems to be given also in some places to a cicada. The cricket has also local names in several dialects, as mei-hi in that of Amoy, and these, too, are generally intended to imitate its chirring. The domestic goose has never had a character for tact or voice, and as to the latter, an old poet has said truly, "The goose but gaggelith in her gate." This gaggling is represented in Chinese by the sound ni (or gyi) repeated, and hence we find the goose called, for example in Mencius, the ni-ni-cho (鶃鶃者) or "cackler."
The crow of the domestic cock is expressed sometimes by kiu-kiu, but men also crow, and so kiu-kiu comes to mean to brag or boast. And sounds imitative of the twittering, chirruping chattering of birds are made to denote the prattling of children, the babbling of small-talkers, and the wrangling of the angry. Sounds like ni-nam, nan-nan, nang-nang, imitate the tedious twittering of various small birds. Hence they were taken to represent the chitter-chatter of small voices and the endless talk (語不了) of those who "chronicle small beer." The crows caw kua-kua, and hence they are called lao-kua, "old cawers." Fond of his name, the crow calls it out with wearisome repetition, and, like him, the cuckoo and and the poet each kua-kua's his own name (詩人如布穀𧵳𧵳自名). As we speak of "Chough's ​language," so the Chinese have "swallows' talk" (燕語) as a name for idle tittle-tattle. The chitter-chatter of noisy children is chih-cha, the noise of a flock of sparrows; and chio-ts‘ao (雀噪) is the "cheatering" of sparrows first, and afterwards of human babblers. One cannot imagine any ghostly adviser in China saying to a house of nuns, "Cheatereth ouwer beoden evere ase sparuwe deth thet is one"—chirp your prayers always, as does the sparrow that is alone. When is a sparrow alone? Then we have the word t‘i (啼), which perhaps was made to imitate the crying of a little baby. But it has come to have a very wide application, and it is now used of the calls of several birds very unlike in character, of the warbling voice of young maidens, and of the noise of weeping. The word hou (吼) denotes the roar of a lion, or the howl of any fierce wild beast. Thence it came to be applied to the roaring and bellowing of people in a passion.
The next group of imitative utterances to be considered is that which contains the expressions used to denote the cough, sneeze, laugh and other vocal noises made by man himself, and which are chiefly automatic and instinctive. Such expressions are perhaps in all languages purely imitative, at least in the beginning, but many lose the traces of their origin under the influences of time and place. The Chinese language is rich in these terms also, and as they show us something of the material of the language and of its origin and early growth, it may not be useless to notice a few of them. As the language preserves much of its primitive simplicity, most of these natural expressions in it have come down either in their original forms or with only slight alterations.
The term for to breathe aloud is hu-hi (呼吸), and this is expressly said to imitate the noise made. Of the two syllables which make this term, hu is said to denote the noise made by inhaling air; while hi is the sound made by exhaling it. Then hu-hi came to be used for the process of breathing generally, and hence the expression ssŭ-fang (四方)-hu-hi which means all that breathe, all living creatures. So also nature (Heaven and Earth) has a hu-hi, a respiration which sinks and rises in unison with man's acts and thoughts. The syllable hu we have already seen ​in the exclamation wu-hu, alas! It is also used as a verb in the sense of call, as to call a servant. Hence it came to be employed generally with the meaning of to call or address, and also as a noun denoting style of address. So also hi came to be used as a verb meaning to inhale generally, as in the expression hi-shi-ya-pien-yen (吸食鴉片烟), to smoke opium, to take opium by inhalation. The noise made by breathing in air is also expressed by hsü (呴), and that made by breathing out air by ch‘ui (吹). The former also means to breathe hard, and the latter, as has been seen, is used of the wind blowing, and of playing on wind instruments.
The term for to cough, k‘o-sêh (咳嗽), is generally acknowledged to be only an attempt to reproduce the sound made in the act. The general term for to laugh is hsiao (or sio 笑), a word which was at the first apparently imitative or suggestive. There are, however, in addition to this word various sounds for representing different kinds of laughter. Some of these are merely exclamations or interjections. A hearty, jolly laugh is ka-ka, or ha-ha, or ho-ho, or h‘o-h‘o, and such expressions are often used with hsiao as a kind of gloss, hsiao being taken to denote the facial expression chiefly. Occasionally we find full statements like the hsiao-yen-ya-ya (笑言啞啞). These words seem to mean "laugh, saying ya-ya," and the "Shuo-wên," with reference to this passage, gives hsiao as the meaning of ya. From it perhaps were derived statements like ya-jen-hsiao-yue, "he said, laughing." Then there is hi or hi-hi, used to express a quiet laugh, sometimes with the implied meaning of derision. In the "Shi-ching" we find a deserted mistress singing of herself, "My brothers, not knowing, laugh at me,"—hi-ch‘i-hsiao-i (咥其笑矣). Here the word hi is explained by some as meaning hi-hi, that is, in derision. The character read hi is also pronounced ti, and it is used to imitate a loud laugh. So also we have p‘u-chih-ti-hsiao, laughing with a p‘u-chih, that is, exploding in laughter. But in this sense p‘u-p‘u-chih-chih may be used without the addition of any word for "to laugh." The word hai (孩) denotes a child, but written 咳 it means to smile as a child, and then to ​smile and laugh generally. These two characters are often interchanged, and the former is apparently only an older form of the latter. Then hai, with t‘i added, is used to denote a baby, from the expression tzŭ-shêng-hai-t‘i (子生咳㖷), "when the baby was born and could laugh and cry."
For "to weep" the common term is k‘u (哭), a word apparently of imitative origin. But there are many other terms to express or denote the various kinds and degrees of weeping; and it is interesting to observe that the same sounds may serve at one time to denote grief and at another time laughter. Thus the hsi-hsi (hi-hi) noticed as a term for laughter, is used also to express a grief too great for tears. Then there are several terms for the blubbering, crying, screaming, howling of babies. Such are huang-huang, i-i, wa-wa, ku-ku. Some of these, perhaps all, are more than mere imitative noises. Thus i-i, or i (婗 or 嫛) simply, is not only the puling of an infant, but also a puling infant, properly a female baby. So also wa-wa is the crying of an infant, and hsiao-wa-wa is a small child. With us it is only the wise children who know their parents, but among the Chinese all children are supposed to possess this remarkable faculty. And hence comes the common saying, Ku-ku-chih-tzŭ-ko-chih-ch‘i-ch‘in (呱呱之子各識其親),—every puling child knows it parents. The term ku-hu-chih here expresses what we can only represent by youngest; it denotes a child in the first or crying stage of life. "To sob" is expressed by yin or gyin (喑); and ti-ti or t‘i-t‘i, already mentioned, is to shed tears drop by drop, lacrimas stillare. The t‘i-t‘i of the falling tears is compared to the falling of pearls from a broken necklace, reminding us of the words, "Ah, but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds." Then we have t‘i-k‘u, used of the wailing of an infant; and k‘u-k‘u-t‘i-t‘i or k‘u-t‘i used to express any sad and bitter weeping. Further, p‘u-su-su is the noise made by a gushing flood of tears; and ya-t‘i and ma-ma are to cry as babies, and then to cry and howl generally. A Chinaman of my acquaintance, who is more than forty years old, when suffering from rheumatism cries ma-ma, ma-ma with much weeping and groaning. As the man's ​mother is dead he can scarcely be calling for her, like the negro and the Indian of Upper California mentioned by Mr. Tylor.
"To sneeze" is in Mandarin t‘i (written 嚏 and otherwise), a word which seems to represent a lisping sneeze. It is an old and classical word, and is given in the "Shuo-wên." But there are several vulgar terms the nature and meaning of which cannot be doubted. Such are ha-yi, and ha-ch'i, a sneeze, and ta-ha-ch‘i (打哈氣) to sneeze. So also ch‘i-chih (written 乞痴) and ta-ch‘i-chih are respectively a sneeze and to sneeze. There are also several other expressions of a like character and of local range.
In books and in the speech of the educated, the act of snoring is denoted by han (鼾), the noise of breath emitted during sleep. In the rude dialects, however, and in the talk of the people generally, this word han is not very much used. It is replaced by such purely imitative expressions as the no-no of the Foochow people, the hu-hu, ka-ka, and k‘a-ka of other provincial districts. Other terms are hou (齁) and ta-hu (打呼), which, like some of the other terms here given, are used of a loud continuous snoring, like that which the poet describes when he says of the drunken sleeper,
"And thurgh thy dronken nose semeth the soun,
As though thou saidest ay, Sampsoun, Sampsoun."
We read of a man hou-ju-lei-hou (齁如雷吼), "snoring like thunder roaring," and Han Wên-kung, in one of his poems, makes a friend snore loud enough to make an iron Buddha frown and a stone man tremble with fear.
For defects and peculiarities of utterance of all kinds and degrees, the Chinese in their familiar speech have appropriate terms. Such peculiarities are generally regarded as fit subjects for good-natured banter and even for nicknames. Thus the deaf mute is called a ya-tzŭ (啞 or 瘂子) or ya-pa, because he seems to be always trying to utter something like ya-ya. But many a man is called a ya-tzŭ who is not dumb but only much embarrassed in utterance—a Balbus. And ya or ya-ya may be used to express a hesitation in speech or a difficulty in expressing oneself. In the Mandarin and book language, the expression for stammering and stuttering is noh-noh, and another term for a trouble in speech is ​ki-ki. But each dialect seems to have at least one or two peculiar expressions for a difficulty of utterance. Such are the Foochow tih (or tah or chih)-ma-ch‘ok, and the tih-tih of Amoy.
There are also expressions which are purely descriptive or explanatory, as "to speak biting the tongue," "to speak with a stiff tongue." But terms like those mentioned above are the names commonly employed both in speech and writing. The work ki (chi 吃) is explained by "hesitation in speech" and "trouble from the limping of speech," or stuttering. By the term nah-nah or noh-noh (written 吶吶 and 訥訥) various kinds of impediments in speech are indicated. An early use of it is found in the "Li-chi," where it is recorded of Wên-tzŭ (文子) that his speech was noh-noh, like as if it could not get out of his mouth" (其言吶吶然如不出諸其口). Here noh-noh is explained as meaning low and slow, but it is generally understood as denoting a hesitating in speech, or stammering. The words here quoted have become almost proverbial, and one may see them used in the native newspapers. Then the word yin or gyin (喑), already noticed in another use, sometimes denotes an inability to speak, or at least to talk distinctly. So also wa (哇) pronounced huo, which has several other meanings, is used in the sense of a choking impediment in speech. These terms, it will be noticed, are still, or were in their early forms, purely imitative. So also are the common k‘o-k‘o-pa-pa and the kie-kie (chie-chie)pa-pa. These terms may be used as verbs, as in the expression tsui-li-k‘o-k‘o-pa-pa (嘴裏磕磕巴巴), "he stammers," lit., in his mouth he k‘o-k‘o-pa-pa's. They may also be used as adjectives, the particles chih (之) and ti (的) being sometimes added, and they may be nouns or adverbs also according to the context. The individual and the local peculiarities of utterance among the Chinese are worthy of more attention than they have received. These must have had, and must still have, some effect in the formation and maintenance, not only of dialects but also of variations in the written language. There are some Chinese who cannot pronounce sh, and say sa and san for sha and shan. One man of my acquaintance could not pronounce words like pu ​and su and tu, but turned these into pü, and sü, and tü, and his children are reported to have inherited the peculiarity. Many Chinese cannot distinguish between h and f, calling a fêng a hung, and a huan a fan. To the people of Foochow their neighbours of Fu-ch‘ing seem to make excessive use of the gutturals and the Fu-tsing-keh-k‘eh (Fu-ch‘ing-ko 福淸謌?) bewrays the man from that district. So also the Pekingese make fun of the Tientsin talk, and speak derisively of the Wei-tsui-tzŭ (衞嘴子) or Tientsin mouthers.
The next group of imitative expressions to be briefly noticed is that which is composed of child's language, comprising under this designation not only the infracta loquella made by the baby, but also that used to the baby by nurse and mother. The utterances in this class also may be said to flutter about the line which divides speech from inarticulate language, as sometimes they seem to be the link connecting mere cries with words, and sometimes they have all the appearance of actual speech. As the Chinese baby-language has not received much attention hitherto, a few remarks on some specimens of it may be useful; but it must be premised that the acquaintance with it is very limited.
Voltaire says:—"Experience teaches us that children are only imitators, that if nothing was said to them they would not speak, they would content themselves with crying." This is perhaps a little overstated, but it is a recognised truth that little children are great imitators. But their mimicking tendencies may have a value and an interest to students of language. Thus the Chinese baby says his whistle makes pi-pi, and so he calls it his pi-pi or pipe. Hence in Foochow, for example, pi-pi and in Amoy pi-a, become names for the child's whistle. This sound pi-pi is also applied to other peeping, squeaking instruments and the noises which these make. This child does not say that the dog barks but that it ou-ou, and so ou (or ngao) becomes a word for the bark of a dog, and the dog is called the ou-ou, or simply the ou. So also the cat makes mi-mi or hi-hi, and hence these are baby-names for the cat and kitten. Then as mothers in China often give animal-names to their ​children to save them from boy-hunting demons, we find mi-mi or kitten used as a personal name. Further, the child says the hen t‘e-lo, that is, clucks or cackles, and this in some places is a child-term, not only for the cackle but also for the hen. At Foochow the horse is known to children as the animal which makes kak-kak in trotting. Now the man who personates another at one of the State Examinations has long been called the ma, or horse, of the man for whom he appears. But at Foochow the term came to be well known, and so it is there often replaced by kak-kak, to the utter mystification of all strangers. Another Foochow child-word is nu-nu, or a sound like that. When a fat baby is rounding "to a separate mind" he distinguishes himself as nu-nu, and his seniors allow him the designation. It must be owned that often an infant "see-saws his voice in inarticulate noises." He finds much difficulty in imitating certain sounds, and hence he, like his elders, often makes utterances which convey no meaning. To these, as not being articulate speech, disparaging epithets are often applied. Among the Amoy-speaking people one name for them is li-li-la-la, and this is also used to denote the infantile prattling of grown-up people. In Mandarin the terms ya (啞) and ou (嘔) are used separately or together to denote the sounds made by a child beginning to talk. Then ya-ya comes to mean, not only the a-a of a baby, but also "to prattle nonsense," to babble like a baby.
One of the first accomplishments of a baby is expressed in English by suck, "a word imitative of the sound." So a Foochow mother calls her baby to sauk-sauk (variously given also as soh-sah, siah, etc.), and thence we have the verb sauk in such an expression as suak-neing, to suck milk. In Tientsin the thirsty infant cries for tsa-tsa. In Shanghai the baby calls for ma-ma, and this is the name for a woman's breasts there, and the name, for the same reason, is used in other parts of China. Again, at Tientsin a baby cries for food by whimpering pei-pei, and so the mother uses this expression to call the little creature to his food. The actual feeding of the baby is called pu or pu-pu, from the noise made by it during the process, and hence arose ​the word pu (哺 also read p‘u and fu), which came to mean to feed or support. It is said of a mother and her child that the former i-nai-pu-chih (以奶哺之), feeds her child with her breast. The child is also said to pu-kuo, munch fruit. Then pu came to be used in other senses, such as "a morsel in the mouth." A well-known instance of this use is found in the celebrated saying about Chou Kung, that i-fan-san-t‘u-pu (一飯三吐哺)—at one meal he thrice put out the food in his mouth. In the sense of feed, or give nourishment, the word occurs often in the saying ao-ao-tai-pui (嗷嗷待哺), "with sad whining waiting to be fed." The terms tie-tie and ko-ho are perhaps originally child-names for father—dada—and elder brother respectively, but tie is a recognised term for father, and ko for elder brother.
It remains to notice a few specimens of terms which are imitative only by metaphor. Even of those already mentioned there are several which are not strictly imitative, but only suggestive. These, and the forms of expression now under consideration, mimick to the mind, as it were, or give an idea or picture of the effect produced by certain sights or sounds or feelings. Expressions of this kind are to be found in all languages perhaps, and they are usually of a striking and picturesque character. They are generally formed of a word or syllable once repeated, or of a double word the second part of which is a modification of the first. Thus we speak of "the deep, deep sea" and the "red, red wine," and we have terms like pell-mell, pit-pat, zig-zag. The Chinese language luxuriates in suggestive or descriptive terms of this kind. The ancient classical poetry is especially rich in them, but the daily talk of the people is also largely made up of such material. A few examples of the more noteworthy among the expressions of this kind will suffice for our present purpose. Sometimes one word or sound is repeated, and the doubling is made to intensify or emphasize the meaning of the single word. But often the double form of the word is the only one, and does not necessarily bear the meaning of plurality or intensity. The second part of the term also is frequently not a repetition of the first, but a variation of the sound made for euphony, or ease of ​pronunciation, or for some other reason. One name for these compound and quasi-double words is tie-tzŭ-yü (疊字語), repeated-character locutions; and they are also known by the somewhat poetic name tzŭ-yen (字眼), character eyes.
As our first example of these expressions, let us take the one pronounced like i-i (薿薿). This term is used in old literature, for example in the "Shi-ching," to denote a luxuriant appearance, as of young millet crops. It is thence transferred to the glossy green foliage of trees in spring. But the syllable i of this compound is seldom, if ever, found alone, at least in the sense of luxuriant, which the "Shuo-wen" gives as its meaning. Another term like i-i is ch‘i-ch‘i (萋萋), which means "luxuriant looking," dense or abundant. In the "Shi" it is said of the ko plant, wei-ye (維葉) ch‘i-ch‘i, which Dr. Legge translates: "Its leaves" were luxuriant." He adds in a note: "Ch‘i-ch‘i expresses 'the appearance of luxuriant growth.'" This repetition of the character is constantly found giving intensity and vividness to the idea. Often the characters are different, but of cognate meaning. The compound seems to picture the subject of the sentence to the eye in the colours of its own signification. This term ch‘i-ch‘i came to be applied to various kinds of objects collected in great quantities, as to clouds when massed together. In a poem of a celebrated author we find a passage to be read as follows: ch‘iu-feng-yi-p‘ei-pu-shu-shu-ming-pu-i (秋風一披拂策策鳴不已), "Once the autumn breezes blow over the trees the rustling of the falling leaves does not cease." This poem, to which reference has already been made, contains several other illustrations of this kind of expression.
Then we take the expression kai-kai or kiai-kiai (喈喈) with which we have met before. This term is applied to the call of the oriole, but it is not meant to reproduce the note of that bird. It only denotes the harmonious sounds of the orioles calling to each other as heard at a distance. And kiai-kiai is used in a similar way of the songs of the Fêng Huang, cock and hen phœnixes. It is applied also to the whistling and howling of the wind, and the single word is used in this way, as in the ​line "The north wind whistles" (北風其喈). A tadpole is called by the Hakkas of Chia-ying-chou, kuei-ⁿyem-ⁿyem, in which the ⁿyem-ⁿyem is meant to indicate the wiggle-waggle of the tadpole's tail. A dumpling is called po-po (餑餑) or pa-pa in some places, from its rolly-polly appearance, perhaps. Then pa-pa, an apparently meaningless sound, gives the force of earnestly, eagerly, to the word with which it is used. Thus yen-pa-pa (眼巴巴) and wang (望)-pa-pa mean to watch or look for "with all your eyes," with great interest and attention. The Swatow people denote great fear by saying that their heart leapt po-po—po-po-ti‘u— and this, like the corresponding expression with us, is used for any violent mental agitation. Hard and constant working of all kinds is expressed by the term k‘u-k‘u (矻矻): and hence, not only in common speech but also in literature, k‘u-k‘u is used to mean toiling and labouring. Thus k‘u-k‘w-ch‘iung-nien (矻矻窮年) is to work hard all the year.
We have now to take one or two of the picture-expressions in which the second part is not a repetition of the first. Such is san sa (毿挲) used in the sense of long and shaggy, as applied to fur and hair. The term t‘i-t‘a (踢蹋) is used to denote slipshod, as in the direction to wear shoes properly and not have them draggle slip-shod (不可拖鞋踢蹋). The Amoy people speak of a very bad road, or a broken bridge, or a roofless ruined house as being tap-tap-lap-lap, that is, having quite fallen down or subsided in ruin. Douglas says the expression is used also of an old hat—a dilapidated tile. The term ch‘i-ch‘ü (ki-kü) is used in the sense of rough and zig-zig. Thus the expression shan-lu-chi-ch‘ü (山路崎嶇) means "the ascent of the mountain was a rugged zig-zig."
Here we have to end our notice of the Emotional and Imitative Language of the Chinese. One department of this has been of necessity altogether omitted, viz., that which contains the calls and cries to domestic and other animals. These also are interesting in themselves and for the relations they bear to the standard language and the varieties of dialects. The treatment of them is left for some one more fit for the work and with better opportunities.
* ↑ Farrar's "Language and Languages," p. 74; Endlicher's Ch. Gr., S. 350. For much information and guidance in connection with the subject of this chapter the author is much indebted to the two works here quoted, to Lect. xiii. of Prof. Marsh's Lect. on the Eng. Lang., and to Tylor's "Primitive Culture," vol. i., chaps. v. and vi.
* ↑ L. C. C, iv., pp. 350, 520, 328, 261: "Shi-ching," chap. v., pp. 46, 31: L. C. C, i., p. 25, and "Lun-yü," chap. iii., p. 29; "Ku-shi-yuan" (古詩源) chaps. iv. and xi.; "Li-pu-tsê-li," chap. clxviii. See also Stent's Vocab. s. v. ai (哀).
* ↑ See "Manual of the Foochow Dialect," by Rev. C. C. Baldwin, p. 40.
* ↑ Shanghai Gr. p. 137.