II.—§ 2. Friedrich von Schlegel.
One of the books that exercised a great influence on the development of linguistic science in the beginning of the nineteenth century was Friedrich von Schlegel’s Ueber die sprache und weisheit der Indier (1808). Schlegel had studied Sanskrit for some years in Paris, and in his romantic enthusiasm he hoped that the study of the old Indian books would bring about a revolution in European thought similar to that produced in the Renaissance through the revival of the study of Greek. We are here concerned exclusively with his linguistic theories, but to his mind they were inseparable from Indian religion and philosophy, or rather religious and philosophic poetry. He is struck by the similarity between Sanskrit and the best-known European languages, and gives quite a number of words from Sanskrit found with scarcely any change in German, Greek and Latin. He repudiates the idea that these similarities might be accidental or due to borrowings on the side of the Indians, saying expressly that the proof of original relationship between these languages, as well as of the greater age of Sanskrit, lies in the far-reaching correspondences in the whole grammatical structure of these as opposed to many other languages. In this connexion it is noticeable that he is the first to speak of ‘comparative grammar’ (p. 28), but, like Moses, he only looks into this promised land without entering it. Indeed, his method of comparison precludes him from being the founder of the new science, for he says himself (p. 6) that he will refrain from stating any rules for change or substitution of letters (sounds), and require complete identity of the words used as proofs of the descent of languages. He adds that in other cases, “where intermediate stages are historically demonstrable, we may derive giorno from dies, and when Spanish so often has h for Latin f, or Latin p very often becomes f in the German form of the same word, and c not rarely becomes h [by the way, an interesting foreshadowing of one part of the discovery of the Germanic sound-shifting], then this may be the foundation of analogical conclusions with regard to other less evident instances.” If he had followed up this idea by establishing similar ‘sound-laws,’ as we now say, between Sanskrit and other languages, he would have been many years ahead of his time; as it is, his comparisons are those of a dilettante, and he sometimes falls into the pitfalls of accidental similarities while overlooking the real correspondences. He is also led astray by the idea of a particularly close relationship between Persian and German, an idea which at that time was widely spread[2]—we find it in Jenisch and even in Bopp’s first book.
Schlegel is not afraid of surveying the whole world of human languages; he divides them into two classes, one comprising Sanskrit and its congeners, and the second all other languages. In the former he finds organic growth of the roots as shown by their capability of inner change or, as he terms it, ‘flexion,’ while in the latter class everything is effected by the addition of affixes (prefixes and suffixes). In Greek he admits that it would be possible to believe in the possibility of the grammatical endings (bildungssylben) having arisen from particles and auxiliary words amalgamated into the word itself, but in Sanskrit even the last semblance of this possibility disappears, and it becomes necessary to confess that the structure of the language is formed in a thoroughly organic way through flexion, i.e. inner changes and modifications of the radical sound, and not composed merely mechanically by the addition of words and particles. He admits, however, that affixes in some other languages have brought about something that resembles real flexion. On the whole he finds that the movement of grammatical art and perfection (der gang der bloss grammatischen kunst und ausbildung, p. 56) goes in opposite directions in the two species of languages. In the organic languages, which represent the highest state, the beauty and art of their structure is apt to be lost through indolence; and German as well as Romanic and modern Indian languages show this degeneracy when compared with the earlier forms of the same languages. In the affix languages, on the other hand, we see that the beginnings are completely artless, but the ‘art’ in them grows more and more perfect the more the affixes are fused with the main word.
As to the question of the ultimate origin of language, Schlegel thinks that the diversity of linguistic structure points to different beginnings. While some languages, such as Manchu, are so interwoven with onomatopœia that imitation of natural sounds must have played the greatest rôle in their formation, this is by no means the case in other languages, and the perfection of the oldest organic or flexional languages, such as Sanskrit, shows that they cannot be derived from merely animal sounds; indeed, they form an additional proof, if any such were needed, that men did not everywhere start from a brutish state, but that the clearest and intensest reason existed from the very first beginning. On all these points Schlegel’s ideas foreshadow views that are found in later works; and it is probable that his fame as a writer outside the philological field gave to his linguistic speculations a notoriety which his often loose and superficial reasonings would not otherwise have acquired for them.
Schlegel’s bipartition of the languages of the world carries in it the germ of a tripartition. On the lowest stage of his second class he places Chinese, in which, as he acknowledges, the particles denoting secondary sense modifications consist in monosyllables that are completely independent of the actual word. It is clear that from Schlegel’s own point of view we cannot here properly speak of ‘affixes,’ and thus Chinese really, though Schlegel himself does not say so, falls outside his affix languages and forms a class by itself. On the other hand, his arguments for reckoning Semitic languages among affix languages are very weak, and he seems also somewhat inclined to say that much in their structure resembles real flexion. If we introduce these two changes into his system, we arrive at the threefold division found in slightly different shapes in most subsequent works on general linguistics, the first to give it being perhaps Schlegel’s brother, A. W. Schlegel, who speaks of (1) les langues sans aucune structure grammaticale—under which misleading term he understands Chinese with its unchangeable monosyllabic words; (2) les langues qui emploient des affixes; (3) les langues à inflexions.
Like his brother, A. W. Schlegel places the flexional languages highest and thinks them alone ‘organic.’ On the other hand, he subdivides flexional languages into two classes, synthetic and analytic, the latter using personal pronouns and auxiliaries in the conjugation of verbs, prepositions to supply the want of cases, and adverbs to express the degrees of comparison. While the origin of the synthetic languages loses itself in the darkness of ages, the analytic languages have been created in modern times; all those that we know are due to the decomposition of synthetic languages. These remarks on the division of languages are found in the Introduction to the book Observations sur la langue et la littérature provençale (1818) and are thus primarily meant to account for the contrast between synthetic Latin and analytic Romanic.
II.—§ 3. Rasmus Rask.
We now come to the three greatest names among the initiators of linguistic science in the beginning of the nineteenth century. If we give them in their alphabetical order, Bopp, Grimm and Rask, we also give them in the order of merit in which most subsequent historians have placed them. The works that constitute their first claims to the title of founder of the new science came in close succession, Bopp’s Conjugationssystem in 1816, Rask’s Undersøgelse in 1818, and the first volume of Grimm’s Grammatik in 1819. While Bopp is entirely independent of the two others, we shall see that Grimm was deeply influenced by Rask, and as the latter’s contributions to our science began some years before his chief work just mentioned (which had also been finished in manuscript in 1814, thus two years before Bopp’s Conjugationssystem), the best order in which to deal with the three men will perhaps be to take Rask first, then to mention Grimm, who in some ways was his pupil, and finally to treat of Bopp: in this way we shall also be enabled to see Bopp in close relation with the subsequent development of Comparative Grammar, on which he, and not Rask, exerted the strongest influence.
Born in a peasant’s hut in the heart of Denmark in 1787, Rasmus Rask was a grammarian from his boyhood. When a copy of the Heimskringla was given him as a school prize, he at once, without any grammar or dictionary, set about establishing paradigms, and so, before he left school, acquired proficiency in Icelandic, as well as in many other languages. At the University of Copenhagen he continued in the same course, constantly widened his linguistic horizon and penetrated into the grammatical structure of the most diverse languages. Icelandic (Old Norse), however, remained his favourite study, and it filled him with enthusiasm and national pride that “our ancestors had such an excellent language,” the excellency being measured chiefly by the full flexional system which Icelandic shared with the classical tongues, partly also by the pure, unmixed state of the Icelandic vocabulary. His first book (1811) was an Icelandic grammar, an admirable production when we consider the meagre work done previously in this field. With great lucidity he reduces the intricate forms of the language into a consistent system, and his penetrating insight into the essence of language is seen when he explains the vowel changes, which we now comprise under the name of mutation or umlaut, as due to the approximation of the vowel of the stem to that of the ending, at that time a totally new point of view. This we gather from Grimm’s review, in which Rask’s explanation is said to be “more astute than true” (“mehr scharfsinnig als wahr,” Kleinere schriften, 7. 515). Rask even sees the reason of the change in the plural blöð as against the singular blað in the former having once ended in -u, which has since disappeared. This is, so far as I know, the first inference ever drawn to a prehistoric state of language.
In 1814, during a prolonged stay in Iceland, Rask sent down to Copenhagen his most important work, the prize essay on the origin of the Old Norse language (Undersøgelse om det gamle nordiske eller islandske sprogs oprindelse) which for various reasons was not printed till 1818. If it had been published when it was finished, and especially if it had been printed in a language better known than Danish, Rask might well have been styled the founder of the modern science of language, for his work contains the best exposition of the true method of linguistic research written in the first half of the nineteenth century and applies this method to the solution of a long series of important questions. Only one part of it was ever translated into another language, and this was unfortunately buried in an appendix to Vater’s Vergleichungstafeln, 1822. Yet Rask’s work even now repays careful perusal, and I shall therefore give a brief résumé of its principal contents.