Introduction to the study of the history of language

by Herbert A. Strong; Willem Sijbrand Logeman; Benjamin Ide Wheeler

It is now an admitted truth in Zoology as well as in Botany that nothing but the individual plant or animal has any real existence, and that all our species or classes are merely convenient and useful, but always arbitrary, abstractions. The difference between two primroses is not as great as that between a primrose and, e.g., a daisy, it is true; but the differences between these pairs are merely differences in degree, and not in kind. When we classify or arrange in groups, we select some characteristic and thereby give it a certain pre-eminence over others. All individuals that possess this characteristic are accordingly ranged upon one side, and all that do not possess it are ranged upon the other. If the characteristic has been well chosen, our classification will be rational, but will none the less remain arbitrary; and very often—nay, nearly always—the choice of any other quality or characteristic as the principle of classification will be found to involve a different grouping.

It is the same with language. Strictly speaking, there exist as many distinct languages as there are individual speakers. These millions of languages, however, fall naturally into groups, whose component individual parts differ but very little from one another, though no two of them are exactly alike. Now, in order to decide whether the language of any one individual belongs to some particular group, we must select one or more particular characteristics, by which to test its claim; and, our selection made, we shall often find ourselves excluding some language whose inclusion would have resulted from any other test than the one selected. The difficulty is much increased when we come to range our groups into dialects, or to classify the latter among or around languages (using that term again in its conventional sense); and, again, to arrange languages into families.

At no single moment do we find all the individuals of any nation, community, or group of human beings, speaking the same language in the strict sense of the expression; and thus, if we say that a language has broken up or separated into several dialects or into various new languages, we give a very inadequate description of what has really happened. It would be truer to state that amongst any given group of individual languages, the difference, once slight, between its various members has grown to such an extent that we can no longer conveniently class these members together.

In the next place, our comparison will also hold good in the following point. The nature and development of the individual animal depends upon two things—descent and environment. Animals, the offspring of similar parents, resemble one another in all essentials: they are, however, not absolutely alike, and their individual peculiarities and development depend largely on surroundings, such as climate, food, etc.,—influences which, as might be expected, make themselves felt most strongly in infancy.

Again, it is the same in language. Speech is acquired by imitation, and those who speak to the child may be considered its linguistic parents. The special bodily and mental idiosyncrasies of the child take the place of the accidental surroundings to which reference has already been made. No two children hear precisely the same words spoken by the very same persons and exactly the same number of times; no two parents and no two children are, in mind and body, exactly alike. From the beginning there is a difference, small though it may be, between the linguistic surroundings of any two individuals; and the development depends upon personal peculiarities, which, from a linguistic point of view, may be called accidental.

It appears, then, that our attention is engaged at the very outset of our linguistic inquiry, not merely by the fact that differences arise in the language of individuals, but more especially by the question why these differences are not even greater and more rapid in their development than they prove to be. We must seek an explanation not merely of the nature of the forces tending to differentiate the individual languages, but also of those which counteract such forces, and whose influence is exerted towards uniformity and the conservation of such unity as exists.

Yet if our comparison be sufficiently correct in two such important points, we must not forget that in one point at least there is an essential difference between the origin of species in the animal world and the differentiation of languages.

We saw that with descent in the animal world we must compare linguistic descent, which latter term implies that a child’s language is acquired by imitation from the speakers surrounding him. The language of the community in which the child grows up is the parent of his speech. Now, it is evident that in the animal world the influence of descent, powerful factor though it be, is still limited, inasmuch as the direct effect of the parent’s influence ceases at a fixed point. In language, on the other hand, the influence of the linguistic parent is permanently at work: strongest during infancy, it diminishes in force indeed, but never entirely ceases to make itself felt. Again, the animal owes its birth to a single pair only, while in language an indefinite number of speakers co-operate to produce the new individual. Moreover, as soon as a child acquires any speech at all, it becomes in its turn a member of the community and affects the language of others. Its speech is consciously or unconsciously imitated by those from whom it learned and is still learning; and thus, in language, parents may be said to become the children of their own offspring.

Differentiation of language is, of course, impossible unless usage alters; but it would be incorrect to conclude that differentiation must necessarily be greater as the variation in usage is more violent. There is no à priori reason why a large group of individuals, who at any given moment speak what may be considered to be one and the same language, should not alter their usage all in the same manner. Yet, if we remember that each individual has his own peculiarities, and that, while each acquires his speech by imitating others, such imitation is never perfect, we shall readily understand that language must change from generation to generation, even were other causes not present to promote such changes; and, in fact, that differences will and must arise. Alteration and differentiation are unavoidable; and it is intercourse between the members of a community or a nation which can alone keep these within bounds. The alterative forces are more free to exert their influence in proportion as such intercourse is restricted.

If we could imagine a large country where the intercourse between the inhabitants was of perfectly equal intensity throughout, we might expect to find the language of each individual differing but imperceptibly from the respective languages of his neighbours; and, though the tongues spoken at opposite extremities might show a wide divergence, it would be impossible to arrange the individual varieties into dialectical groups; for the speech of each man would be some intermediate stage between the individual tongues on either side. But such equal intensity of intercourse exists nowhere over any considerable area. Geographical, political, commercial influences, separately or combined, erect barriers or overcome them; and peculiarities of speech which, arising at one place, spread over others, are yet confined within certain limits. These peculiarities, then, will clearly distinguish those dialects of individuals which partake of them from such as do not; and consequently we shall have distinct limits for grouping the dialects spoken by separate individuals into those spoken by separate districts—that is to say, into what is most commonly understood when we speak of ‘dialects.’