Gender.

The foundation of grammatical gender is the natural distinction between the sexes in mankind and animals. Fancy may endow other objects or qualities with sex; but sex, whether fanciful or real, has no proper connection with grammar. The truth of this may be well seen from the English language, in which we have in most cases discarded the use of grammatical gender. In order, therefore, to study the conditions of gender, we have to turn to languages more highly inflected than English.

The test whereby we now recognise the grammatical gender of a substantive is the concord existing between the substantive and its attribute and predicate, or between it and a pronoun representing it—Domus nigra est, ‘The house is black;’ Domus quam vidi, ‘The house which I saw;’ It is the moon; I ken her horn (Burns); etc. The rise, therefore, of grammatical gender is closely connected with the appearance of a variable adjective and pronoun. One theory to explain this is, that the difference in form, before it yet marked the gender, had become attached to a particular stem-ending: as if, e.g., all stems ending in n- admitted the ending -us—as bonus, ‘good,’—and all those in g- the ending -ra—as nigra, ‘black;’—and that the ending may have been an independent word which, while yet independent, had acquired a reference to a male or female.[144] Gender appears in English, in the first place, as an artificial and often arbitrary personification, as when the sun and moon are spoken of as he and she respectively, under the influence of the ideas attaching to Sol and Luna: Phœbus and Diana, etc.: and, again, as an expression of interest in objects or animals, it frequently occurs in the language of the people and of children; though it sometimes enters into the language of common life, as when a dog is referred to as he and a cat as she, in cases where sex is not spoken of. (See Storm, die lebende Sprache, p. 418.)

In the pronoun, as in the adjective, the distinction of gender may appear in the stem-ending: as ‘une’ (‘one,’ ‘a’); ‘quæ,’ (‘which’). It may, however, also be expressed by distinct roots, such as er, sie; he and she. It is, indeed, probably in substantive pronouns that grammatical gender was first developed, as in fact it has longest maintained itself; as in English, where, in adjectives and nouns, it has almost entirely disappeared.

Grammatical gender probably corresponded originally to natural sex. Exceptions to this rule must gradually have come about, partly through changes of meaning setting in,—as where a word is used metaphorically, like love (neuter, abstract), love (masc. or fem.—‘the beloved object’); or where it has ‘occasionally’ modified its meaning, like Fr. le guide, strictly ‘the guidance,’ and so used in Old French; your fatherhoods (Ben Jonson). Consequently we find natural sex again influencing the genders as fixed by grammar. Thus, in German, Die hässlichste meiner kammermädchen = ‘the ugliest of my chambermaids’ (Wieland), where the article die is of the feminine gender, though the word kammermädchen, being a diminutive in chen is, like all others of that class, neuter. In French, we have UNE (fem.) brave enfant, ‘a brave girl.’ The word gens, again, is, properly speaking, feminine, like the word la gent, which still survives in the restricted sense of ‘a race:’ but in combinations like ‘tous les braves gens’ (‘all worthy people’) the grammatical gender is neglected; and this neglect is fostered by the use of such a word as braves, which in form might apply to either sex. On the other hand, in combinations like ‘les bonnes gens,’ (‘good people’), where an adjective with a specifically feminine termination is joined to the substantive, the grammatical gender maintains itself. Cf., also, instances like ‘un enseigne’ (‘an ensign’), ‘un trompette’ (‘a trumpeter’); and, in Provençal, ‘lo poestat,’ for ‘the magistrate’ (‘il podestà’). In Latin and Greek, these so-called violations of the concord in gender are very common; we are familiar with them as constructions πρός σύνεσιν, i.e. according to the sense; cf. Thracum auxilia (neuter) ... cæsi (masc.) (Tac., Ann., iv. 48), ‘The Thracian auxiliaries were killed;’ Capita (neut.) conjurationis virgis cæsi (masc.) ac securi percussi (masc.) (Livy, x. 1), ‘The heads of the conspiracy were slain and their heads cut off;’ Septem millia (neut.) hominum in naves impositos (masc.) (Livy, xl. 41), ‘Seven thousand men put on board ships;’ Hi (masc.) summo in fluctu pendent ... tres Notus abreptas (i.e. naves—fem.) in saxa latentia torquet (Vergil, Æn., i. 106-8), ‘Some (of the ships) hang on the crest of the waves ...; three, swept away, the South wind whirls upon hidden rocks.’ In Greek, ὦ φίλτατ’, ὦ περισσὰ τιμηθεὶς (masc.) τεκνον (neut.) (Eur., Tro. 735), ‘O dearest, O much honoured child;’ τὰ τέλη (neut.) καταβάντας (masc.) (Thuc., IV. xv. 1), ‘The magistrates having descended:’ and similar instances frequently in Thucydides.

We next find cases where the grammatical gender has completely changed. Thus, in Greek, masculine designations of persons and animals are turned into feminines by simply referring them to female objects: thus, we have either ὁ or ἡ ἄγγελος (‘messenger’), διδάσκαλος (‘teacher’), ἰατρός, (‘healer’), τύραννος (‘ruler’), ἔλαφος (‘deer’), ἵππος (‘horse’ or ‘mare’), etc. In Christian times, a form ὁ παρθένος (‘an unmarried man’) was constructed (Apocal., xiv. 4), translated into Italian by Vergine. Neuter diminutives in German readily become masculine or feminine when the diminutive meaning has been obscured: as, e.g., the occasional construction die Fräulein, ‘the young lady;’ cf., also, in Latin, Glycerium mea, Philematium mea (Plaut., Most., I. iii. 96), mea Gymnasium (Plaut., Cist., I. i. 2). In English, there are a great number of words which would, in the first instance, be thought of as masculines, as containing a suffix commonly associated with masculine words. These are, however, very frequently used as feminines; and, in some cases, even when a feminine termination exists side by side with the masculine one—as, She is heir of Naples (Shakespeare, Tempest, II. i.): others are enemy, rival, novice, astronomer, beggar, teacher, botanist, etc. Cf. she is a peasant (Longfellow); The slave loves her master (Lord Byron); His only heir a princess (Temp., I. 2); She is his only heir (Much Ado, I. i.); The daughter and heir of Leonato (ibid., I. iii.); She alone is heir to both of us (ibid., V. i.); etc.

If collectives or descriptions of qualities become descriptions of persons, the result may be a change of gender. The Fr. le garde (‘the watchman’) was once identical with la garde (‘the watch,’ vigiliæ); cf. further, in Spanish, el cura (‘the priest’), el justicia (‘the magistrate’): the Old Bulgarian junota (‘youth’), as a masculine, means ‘a youth.’ The Russian Golova means ‘a head,’ and, in the masculine, ‘a conductor.’ Portuguese furnishes numerous instances of this; as, a bolsa (fem.), ‘the purse,’ ‘exchange;’ o bolsa (masc.), ‘the treasurer:’ a corneta, ‘the cornet;’ o corneta, ‘the trumpeter:’ a lingua, ‘the tongue;’ o lingua, ‘the interpreter:’ etc.[145] In Italian, podestà (‘magistrate’) is an instance of this. Feminine surnames, again, are frequently added to masculine personal names: cf. Latin Alauda, Capella, Stella; Ital. Colonna, Rosa, Barbarossa, Malespina, etc. So, in French, we find names like Jean Marie.

A word often takes a particular gender from the fact that it belongs to a particular category. The gender of the type of the species, in fact, fixes the gender for other members classed with it. Thus, in English, the word for beast comes from the O.Fr. beste (bête), which is feminine: but this word, and the names of beasts generally, are treated in poetry as masculines, because the Teutonic usage is to treat beasts generally as masculine. Cf. The beast is laid down in his lair (Cowper); And when a beste is deed he ne hath no peyne (Chaucer, Cant. Tales, 1321); The forest’s leaping panther shall hide his spotted hide (Bryant). Numerous other instances are given by Mätzner.[146] It is probable that personification aids in fixing the gender in these cases. Similarly, in French, été (‘summer’), from æstatem, has become masculine because the other seasons of the year were masculine. Minuit (‘midnight’) has followed midi (‘midday’); val (‘valley’) has followed mont (‘mountain’), font (‘fount’) fontaine (‘fountain’); aigle (‘eagle’) is masculine because oiseau (‘bird’) is masculine; brebis (‘wether’) is feminine because ovis (‘sheep’) is feminine; sort (‘lot’) is masculine because bonheur (‘happiness’) is masculine; art (‘art’) is masculine because métier (‘profession’) is masculine: mer (‘sea’) is feminine because terra (‘land’) is feminine. In German, again, the names of Tiber and Rhone have followed the model of most German river names, and appear as feminine. In Greek, many names of plants and trees have become feminine, following the model of δρῦς (‘tree’) and βοτάνη (‘grass’); cf. ὁ κύανος (‘steel’), ἡ κύανος (‘the corn-flower’), so called from a fancied resemblance between the plant and the metal. Towns, again, in Greek, show an inclination to follow the gender of πόλις, ‘a city:’ cf. ἡ Κέραμος, from ὁ κέραμος, ‘clay;’ ἡ Κισσός, from ὁ κισσός, ‘ivy;’ ἡ Μάραθος, from ὁ μόραθος, ‘fennel.’

In other cases formal reasons have brought about a change in gender. We have a striking example of this in the feminine gender assumed by abstract nouns in -or in the Romance languages, to which flos (‘flower’) has also added itself. The fact was felt that most abstract substantives were feminine, e.g. those terminating in -tas, -tus, -tudo, -tio, -itia, -ia; and, especially, the feminine termination -ura sometimes was employed as an alternative to -or; cf. pavor (‘fear’), Ital. paura. Again, in Latin, words in -a, when these were not, like poeta, the names of males, were commonly feminine. Consequently, we find that Greek neuters in -μα appear in popular Latin as feminines, a gender which they have in many cases preserved in the Romance languages. Examples of this are seen in schème, dogme, diademe, anagramme, énigme, épigramme, etc. In the same way, in Modern Greek, the old Greek feminines in -ος have in many cases became masculine, as ὁ πλάτανος, ὁ κυπάρισσος, ‘the plain,’ ‘the cypress.’

Sometimes the termination appears altered to suit the gender; thus the Lat. socrus (‘a father-in-law’) produces the Spanish word suegra (‘a mother-in-law’): and, again, sometimes the traditional was the natural gender; and this was an additional reason why the word should alter its termination, instead of being modified by the gender,—thus, in Greek, the α stems which have become masculine, like νεανίας (‘a youth’), have adopted the characteristic s of the masculine nominative.

The way in which natural gender, as viewed by imagination, has affected grammatical gender may be well seen in English. The personal pronouns give the only real traces of grammatical gender left in English, he, she, it; his, her, its, etc. On the other hand, substantives are very commonly referred to one sex or another by writers, and to some extent personified. In these cases sometimes a faint tradition of their Anglo-Saxon gender seems to have lingered, as when, for instance, mammals and reptiles are in poetry spoken of as masculine; e.g., Like the roe (A.S. , fem.) when he hears (Longfellow); I have seen the hyena’s (Lat. and Fr. fem.) eyes of flame, and heard at my side his stealthy tread (Bryant). Birds, on the other hand, are treated very often as feminines, irrespective of the grammatical gender possessed by their Anglo-Saxon or French original; cf. But the sea-fowl has gone to her nest (Cowper); A bird betrays her nest by striving to conceal it (Byron); Jealous as the eagle of her high aiery (ibid.); The raven flaps her wing (ibid.); A hawk hits her prey (Halliwell, s.v. ruff); The swan rows her state (Milton).

We must mention one more point which ought not to be overlooked, though, owing to the scanty survival of grammatical gender in modern English, it cannot easily be illustrated by English examples. We have indicated some of the causes which have been active in producing a change of gender; but, besides these, there is a negative one, viz., the absence of impediment to such change, which, in a certain sense, may be said to have contributed to the same effect. The distinction in gender which is even yet marked in French and German by the different forms of the singular article (le, der, masc.; la, die, fem.; das, neut.) has long since disappeared in the plural. We find les, die for all genders. And hence it is clear that such words as were most frequently used in the plural were least closely associated with a particular gender, and were therefore more especially amenable to the influence of any force tending to group them with words of a gender different from their own. For instance, most feminine nouns in German form their plural by adding -en to the singular, while few masculine and only six or seven neuter nouns do the like; as a result of which many nouns, formerly masculine, are now feminine, and this especially applies to cases where the plural was in frequent use.

The neuter, the sexless, owes its origin as a grammatical category merely to the development and differentiation of the two other genders.