Opuscula: Essays chiefly Philological and Ethnographical

by R. G. Latham

There are two stages in Language. Through these two stages all Languages, sooner or later, make their way; some sooner than others, but all sooner or later. Of this the Latin language may serve as an illustration. In the time of Augustus it expressed the relations of Time and Place, in other words, its Cases and Tenses, by Declension and Conjugation, or, broadly speaking, by Inflexion. In the time of Dante there was little or no Inflexion, but there was an abundance of Auxiliary Verbs, and an abundance of Prepositions in its stead. The expression of Time and Place by independent words superseded the expression by Inflections. Now in all Languages the inflectional stage comes first. This is a Law. There are Languages that stay for ever (at least for an indefinite time) in their earlier stage. Others there are again, that we never come in contact with before they have proceeded to their later one. Languages of this latter kind are of subordinate value to the Etymologist. Those that he values most are such as he sees in the two stages: so being enabled to watch the breaking-up of one, the constitution of the other, and the transition intermediate to the two.

Now our own language (the Anglo Saxon being borne in mind) comes under the conditions that constitute a good and sufficient language as a disciplinal foundation in Etymology. It can be studied in two stages. When we come to the Times of the Conquest we must gird up our loins for the acquisition of a new Language.

The Breaking-up of the Latin (I speak for the sake of illustration and comparison) is a study in itself. It is a study complete and sufficient; not, however, more so than is the study of the Breaking-up of the Gothic. For in this stock of Tongues, not only did the Saxon pass into the English, but the Mœso-Gothic, the Scandinavian, and the Frisian, each gave origin to some new Tongue; the first to the High German, the second to the Languages of Scandinavia, and the third to the Modern Dutch. The study then of the Languages of the Gothic stock is something more than a sufficient disciplinal foundation in Etymology.[2]

In matters of pronunciation, living Languages have an exclusive advantage. For dead Languages speak but to the eye; and it is not through the eye that the ear is to be instructed.

It is well for the Geologist to classify rocks, and to arrange strata, to distinguish minerals, and to determine fossils; but it is far better if, anterior to this, he will study the Powers of Nature, and the Processes that are their operations: and these he can only study as he sees them in the times wherein he lives, or as he finds them recorded in authentic and undisputed histories. With this knowledge he can criticize, and construct; without it he may invent and imagine. Novel and ingenious he may, perchance, become; but he can never be philosophical, and he can never be Scientific. So it is with the Etymologist. Whenever, in a dead Language, he presumes a Process, which he has looked for in vain in a living one, he outruns his data. The basis of Etymology is the study of existing Processes.

Our Language has had its share; I must hasten to the consideration of our Literature.

The Early Literature of most modern Nations consists of the same elements; of Legends concerning their Saints, of Chronicles, and of Hymns and Romances. Too much of this fell into the hands of the Monks; and these were, too often, the prosaic writers of barbarous Latinity; for Prose (if not in language at least in idea) was, with them, the rule; and Poetry the exception. Such is the general character of the Early Modern Literature; in which, however, our Saxon ancestors were, somewhat (indeed much) more fortunate than their neighbours. Monkish writing was with them an important element; but it was not the only one. They had an originality besides. And the Scandinavians were more fortunate still. The worshippers of Odin and Thor had a Mythology; and Mythologies are the Creators and Creations of Poetry. The Norse Mythology is as poetical as the Grecian. I speak this advisedly. Now this Mythology was common to all the Gothic Tribes. The Saxon and the Norse Literatures dealt (each in their degree) with the same materials; they breathed the same spirit; and they clothed it in an allied Language. But the Saxon Mythology is fragmentary; while the Norse Mythology is a whole. For this reason Scandinavian (or Norse) Literature is not extraneous to my subject.

These, the primeval and Pagan times of our ancestors, must claim and arrest our attention; since it is from these that our characteristic modes of Thought (call them Gothic, or call them Romantic) are derived. In the regions of Paganism lie the dark fountains of our Nationality.

Beside this, I consider that, even in the matter of Language, the direct Scandinavian element of the English is much underrated;[3] and still more underrated is the indirect Scandinavian element of the Norman-French. And here, again, when we come to the Conquest, we must grapple with new dialects, irregular imaginations, and mystical and mysterious Mythologies; for the things that have a value in Language, have a value in History also.

Now come, in due order, and in lineal succession, the formation of our Early English Literature, and the days of Chaucer; and then those of Spenser: periods necessary to be illustrated, but which may be illustrated at a future time. And after these the Æra of Elizabeth, fertile in great men, and fertile in great poets; so much so, that (the full view being too extensive) it must be contemplated by instalments and in sections.