Editorial note — Part II. ON CURTIUS’ CHRONOLOGY OF THE INDO-GERMANIC LANGUAGES.

1. This Lecture has been translated by M. Louis Havet, and forms the first fasciculus of the Bibliothèque de l’École des Hautes Études, publiée sous les auspices du Ministère de l’Instruction Publique. Paris, 1869.

2. See Benfey, Ueber die Aufgabe des Kratylos, Göttingen, 1868.

3. Theokritos, xvii. 9.

4. In my essay On the Relation of Bengali to the Aryan and Aboriginal Languages of India, published in 1848, I tried to explain these plural suffixes, such as dig, gaṇa, jâti, varga, dala. I had translated the last word by band, supposing from Wilson’s Dictionary, and from the Śabda-kalpa-druma that dala could be used in the sense of band or multitude. I doubt, however, whether dala is ever used in Sanskrit in that sense, and I feel certain that it was not used in that sense with sufficient frequency to account for its adoption in Bengali. Dr. Friedrich Müller, in his useful abstracts of some of the grammars discovered by the Novara in her journey round the earth (1857–59), has likewise referred dal to the Sanskrit dala, but he renders what I had in English rendered by band, by the German word Band. This can only be an accident. I meant band in the sense of a band of robbers, which in German would be Bande. He seems to have misunderstood me, and to have taken band for the German Band, which means a ribbon. Might dala in Bengali be the Dravidian taḷa or daḷa, a host, a crowd, which Dr. Caldwell (p. 197) mentions as a possible etymon of the pluralizing suffix in the Dravidian languages? Bengali certainly took the idea of forming its plurals by composition with words expressive of plurality from its Dravidian neighbor, and it is not impossible that in some cases it might have transferred the very word daḷa, crowd. This daḷa and taḷa appears in Tamil as kala and gala, and as Sanskrit k may in Sinhalese be represented by v (loka = lova), I thought that the plural termination used in Sinhalese after inanimate nouns might possibly be a corruption of the Tamil kala. Mr. Childers, however, in his able “Essay on the formation of the Plural of Neuter Nouns in Sinhalese” (J. R. A. S., 1874, p. 40), thinks that the Sinhalese vala is a corruption of the Sanskrit vana, forest, an opinion which seems likewise to be held by Mr. D’Alwis (l.c. p. 48). As a case in point, in support of mv own opinion, Mr. Childers mentioned to me the Sinhalese malvaru, Sanskrit mâlâ-kâra, a wreath-maker, a gardener. In Persian both ân and hâ are remnants of decayed plural terminations, not collective words added to the base.

5. Stanislas Julien, Exercises Pratiques, p. 14.

6. Endlicher, Chinesische Grammatik, § 122. Wade, Progressive Course on the Parts of Speech, p. 102. A different division of words adopted by Chinese grammarians is that into dead and live words, ssè-tsé and sing-tsé, the former comprising nouns, the latter verbs. The same classes are sometimes called tsing-tsé and ho-tsé, unmoved and moved words. This shows how purposeless it would be to try to find out whether language began with noun or verb. In the earliest phase of speech the same word was both noun and verb, according to the use that was made of it, and it is so still to a great extent in Chinese. See Endlicher, Chinesische Grammatik, § 219.

7. Agglutinative seems an unnecessarily uncouth word, and as implying a something which glues two words together, a kind of Bindevocal, it is objectionable as a technical term. Combinatory is technically more correct, and less strange than agglutinative.

8. Professor Pott, in his article entitled “Max Müller und die Kennzeichen der Sprach­verwandt­schaft,” published in 1855, in the Journal of the German Oriental Society, vol. ix. p. 412, says, in confutation of Bunsen’s view of a real historical progress of language from the lowest to the highest stage: “So cautious an inquirer as W. von Humboldt declines expressly, in the last chapter of his work on the Diversity of the Structure of Human Language (p. 414), any conclusions as to a real historical progress from one stage of language to another, or at least does not commit himself to any definite opinion. This is surely something very different from that gradual progress, and it would be a question whether, by admitting such an historical progress from stage to stage, we should not commit an absurdity hardly less palpable than by trying to raise infusoria into horses or still further into men. [What was an absurdity in 1855 does not seem to be so in 1875.] Mr. Bunsen, it is true, does not hesitate to call the monosyllabic idiom of the Chinese an inorganic formation. But how can we get from an inorganic to an organic language? In nature such a thing would be impossible. No stone becomes a plant, no plant a tree, by however wonderful a metamorphosis, except, in a different sense, by the process of nutrition, i.e., by regeneration. The former question, which Mr. Bunsen answers in the affirmative, is disposed of by him with the short dictum: ‘The question whether a language can be supposed to begin with inflections, appears to us simply an absurdity;’ but unfortunately he does not condescend, by a clear illustration, to make that absurdity palpable. Why, in inflectional languages, should the grammatical form always have added itself to the matter subsequently and ab extra? Why should it not partially from the beginning have been created with it and in it, as having a meaning with something else, but not having antecedently a meaning of its own?”

9. Cf. D. G. Brinton, The Myths of the New World, p. 6, note.

10. Julien, Exercises Pratiques, p. 120. Endlicher, Chineseische Grammatik, § 161. See, also, Nöldeke, Orient und Occident, vol. i. p. 759. Grammar of the Bornu Language (London, 1853), p. 55: “In the Treaty the genitive is supplied by the relative pronoun agu, singularly corroborative of the Rev. R. Garnett’s theory of the genitive case.”

11. “Time changes the meaning of words as it does their sound. Thus, many old words are retained in compounds, but have lost their original signification. E.g., ’k·eu, mouth, has been replaced in colloquial usage by ’tsui, but it is still employed extensively in compound terms and in derived senses. Thus, k·wai‘ ’k·eu a rapid talker, .men ’k·eu, door, ,kwan ’k·eu, custom house. So also muh, the original word for eye, has given place to ’yen, tsing, or ’yen alone. It is, however, employed with other words in derived senses. E.g., muh hia·, at present; muh luh, table of contents.

“The primitive word for head, ’sheu, has been replaced by .t‘eu, but is retained with various words in combination. E.g., tseh ’sheu, robber chief.”

Edkins, Grammar of the Chinese Colloquial Language, 2d edition, 1864, p. 100.

12. Grimm, Deutsche Grammatik, ii. 339.

13. Cf. the German Liebhart, mignon, in Anshelm, 1, 335. Grimm, Deutsche Grammatik, iii. 707. I feel more doubtful now as to sweetard. Dr. Morris mentions it in his Historical Outlines of English Grammar, p. 219; but Koch, when discussing the same derivations in his English Grammar, does not give the word. Mr. Skeat writes to me: “The form really used in Middle English is sweeting. Three examples are given in Stratmann. One of the best is in my edition of William of Palerne, where, however, it occurs not once only (as given by Stratmann), but four times, viz.: in lines 916, 1537, 2799, 3088. The lines are:—

The date of this poem is about A.D. 1360. Shakespeare has both forms, viz.: sweeting and sweet-heart. Chaucer has swete herte, just as we should use sweet-heart.”

14. Diez, Grammatik, ii. 358. Grimm, Deutsche Grammatik, i. p. 340, 706.

15. See Sanskrit Grammar, § 497. I doubt whether in Greek ἀγγελλω is a denominative verb and stands for ἀγγελ(ο)ϳω (Curtius, Chronologie, p. 58). I should prefer to explain it as ἀνα-γαρ-ίω, to proclaim, as a verb of the fourth class.

16. Lex Repetund. “ceivis romanus ex hac lege fiet, nepotesque — ceiveis romanei justei sunto.” Cf. Egger, Lat, Serm. Vetust. Reliq., p. 245. Meunier, in Mémoires de la Societé de Linguistique de Paris, vol. i. p. 34.

17. Still used as long by Plautus; of. Neue, Formenlehre, ii. p. 340.

18. In old Latin the termination of the first person singular was em. Thus Quintilian, i. 7, 23, says: “Quid? non Cato Censorius dicam et faciam, dicem et faciem scripsit, eundemque in ceteris, quæ similiter cadunt, modum tenuit? quod et ex veteribus ejus libris manifestum est, et a Messala in libro de s. littera positum.” Neue, Formenlehre, ii. p. 348. The introduction of feram, originally a subjunctive, to express the future in the first person, reminds us of the distinction in English between I shall and thou wilt, though the analogy fails in the first person plural. In Homer the use of the subjunctive for the future is well known. See Curtius, Chronologie, p. 50.

19. Historically the i in tuleritis should be long in the subjunctive of the perfect, short in the future.

20. Bleek, On the Concord, p. lxvi.

21. In δώ-σω, for δωσίω, the i or y is lost in Greek as usual. In other verbs s and y are both lost. Hence τενεσίω becomes τενέσω, and τενῶ the so-called Attic future. Bopp, Vergleich-Grammatik, first ed., p. 903. In Latin we have traces of a similar future in forms like fac-so, cap-so, etc. See Neue, Formenlehre, ii. p. 421. The Epic dialect sometimes doubles the σ when the vowel is short, αἰδέσσομαι. But this can hardly be considered a relic of the original σι, because the same reduplication takes places sometimes in the Aorist, ἐγέλασσα.

22. See Bopp, Vergleichende Grammatik, §§ 897, 898. These verbal adjectives should be carefully distinguished from nominal adjectives, such as Sanskrit div-yá-s, divinus, originally div-i-a-s, i.e., divi-bhavas, being in heaven; ὀίκεῖος, domesticus, originally οἴκει-ο-ς, being in the house. These are adjectives formed, it would seem, from old locatives, just as in Bask we can form from etche, house, etche-tic, of the house, and etche-tic-acoa, he who is of the house; or from seme, son, semea-ren, of the son, and semea-ren-a, he who is of the son. See W. J. van Eys, Essai de Grammaire de la Langue Basque, 1867, p. 16.

23. Bopp, Vergleichende Grammatik, §§ 888–898.

24. Bacon, Novum Organum, i. 55.

25. Until a rational account of these changes, comprehended under the name of Lautverschiebung, is given, we must continue to look upon them, not as the result of phonetic decay, but of dialectic growth. I am glad to find that this is more and more admitted by those who think for themselves, instead of simply repeating the opinions of others. Grimm’s Law stands no longer alone, as peculiar to the Teutonic languages, but analogous changes have been pointed out in the South-African, the Chinese, the Polynesian dialects, showing that these changes are everywhere collateral, not successive. I agree with Professor Curtius and other scholars that the impulse to what we call Lautverschiebung was given by the third modification in each series of consonants, by the gh, dh, bh in Sanskrit, the χ, θ, φ, in Greek. I differ from him in considering the changes of Lautverschiebung as the result of dialectic variety, while he sees their motive power in phonetic corruption. But whether we take the one view or the other, I do not see that Dr. Scherer has removed any of our difficulties. See Curtius, Grundzüge, 4th ed., p. 426, note. Dr. Scherer, in his thoughtful work, Zur Geschichte der Deutschen Sprache, has very nearly, though not quite, apprehended the meaning of my explanation as to the effects of dialectic change contrasted with those of phonetic decay. If it is allowable to use a more homely illustration, one might say with perfect truth, that each dialect chooses its own phonetic garment, as people choose the coats and trousers which best fit them. The simile, like all similes, is imperfect, yet it is far more exact than if we compare the ravages of phonetic decay, as is frequently done, to the wear and tear of these phonetic suits.

26. Edkins, Grammar, p. 84.

27. Having stated this on the authority of Mr. Edkins, one of our best living Chinese scholars, it is but fair that I should give the opinion of another Chinese scholar, the late Stanislas Julien, whose competence to give an opinion on this subject Mr. Edkins would probably be the first to acknowledge. All that we really want is the truth, not a momentary triumph of our own opinions. M. Julien wrote to me in July, 1868:—

“Je ne suis pas du tout de l’avis d’Edkins qui dit qu’un grand nombre de mots mongols sont chinois; c’est faux, archifaux.

Sain est mandchou et veut dire bon, en chinois chen.

begen, low: en chinois hia.

itchi, droit; en chinois yeou.

sologaï, left, gauche; en chinois tso.

c’hihe, straight; en chinois tchi (rectus).

gadan, outside; en chinois waï.

logon, green; en chinois tsing.

c’hohon, few; en chinois chao.

hungun, light (not heavy); en chinois king.

“Je voudrais bien savoir comment M. Edkins prouve que les mots qu’il cite sont chinois.

“Foucaux a échoué également en voulant prouver, autrefois, que 200 mots thibétains qu’il avait choisis ressemblaïent aux mots chinois correspondants.”

M. Stanislas Julien wrote again to me on the 21st of July:—

“J’ai peur que vous ne soyez fâché du jugemont sevère que j’ai porté sur les identifications faites par Edkins du mongol avec le chinois. J’ai d’abord pris dans votre savant article les mots mongols qu’il cite et je vous ai montré qu’ils ne ressemblent pas le moins du monde au chinois.

“Je vais vous en citer d’autres tirés du Dictionnaire de Khienlung chinois mandchou-mongol.

Mongol Chinois

tegri, ciel thien.

naran, soleil ji.

naram barimoni, éclipse de soleil ji-chi.

saran, lune youeï.

oudoun, étoile sing.

egoulé, nuages, yun.

ayounga, le tonnerre louï.

tchagilgan, éclair tien.

borogan, la pluie yu.

sigouderi, la rosée lou.

kirago, la gelée choang.

lapsa, la neige sioue.

salgin, le vent fong.

ousoun, l’eau chouï.

gal, le feu ho.

siroi, la terre thou.

aisin, l’or altan.

“Je vous donnerai, si vous le désirez, 1000 mots mongols avec leurs synonymes chinois, et je défie M. Edkins de trouver dans les 1000 mots mongols un seul qui ressemble au mot chinois synonyme.

“Comme j’ai fait assez de thibétain, je puis vous fournir aussi une multitude de mots thibétains avec leurs correspondants en chinois, et je défierai également M. Edkins de trouver un seul mot thibétain dans mille qui ressemble au mot chinois qui a le même sens.”

My old friend, M. Stanislas Julien, wrote to me once more on this subject, the 6th of August, 1868:—

“Depuis une quinzaine d’anneés, j’ai l’avantage d’entretenir les meilleures relations avec M. Edkins. J’ai lu, anciennement dans un journal que publie M. Léon de Rosny (actuellement professeur titulaire de la langue Japanaise) le travail où M. Edkins a tâché de rapprocher et d’identifier, par les sons, des mots mongols et chinois ayant la même signification. Son systême m’a paru mal fondé. Quelques mots chinois peuvent être entrés dans la langue mongole par suite du contact des deux peuples, comme cela est arrivé pour le mandchou, dont beaucoup de mots sont entrés dans la langue mongole en en prenant les terminaisons; mais il ne faudrait pas se servir de ces exemples pour montrer l’identité ou les ressemblances des deux langues.

“Quand les mandchous ont voulu traduire les livres chinois, ils ont rencontré un grand nombre de mots dont les synonymes n’existaient pas dans leur langue. Ils se sont alors emparé des mots chinois en leur donnant des terminaisons mandchoues, mais cette quasi-ressemblance de certains mots mandchous ne prouve point le moins du monde l’identité des deux langues. Par exemple, un préfet se dit en chinois tchi-fou, et un sous-préfet tchi-hien; les mandchous qui ne possédaient point ces fonctionaires se sont contentés de transcire les sons chinois dchhifou, dchhikhiyan.

“Le tafetas se dit en chinois tcheou-tse; les mandchous, n’ayant point de mots pour dire tafetas, ont transcrit les sons chinois par tchousé. Le bambou se dit tchou-tze; ils ont écrit l’arbre (moo) tchousé. Un titre de noblesse écrit sur du papier doré s’appelle tsĕ; les mandchous écrivent tche. Je pourrais vous citer un nombre considérable de mots du même genre, qui ne prouvent pas du tout l’identité du mandchou et du chinois.

“L’ambre s’appelle hou-pe; les mandchous écrivent khôba. La barbe s’appelle hou-tse, ils écrivent khôsé.

“Voici de quelle manière les mandchous ont fait certains verbes. Une balance s’appelle en chinois thien ping, ils écrivent p’ing-sé; puis pour dire peser avec une balance, ils ont fait le verbe p’ingselembi; lembi est une terminaison commune à beaucoup de verbes.

“Pour dire faire peser, ordonner de peser avec une balance, ils écrivent p’ingseleboumbi; boumbi est la forme factive ou causative; cette terminaison sert aussi pour le passif; de sorte que ce verbe peut signifier aussi être pesé avec une balance.

“Je pourrais citer aussi des mots mandchous auxquels on a donné la terminaison mongole, et vice versâ.”

These remarks, made by one who, during his lifetime, was recognised by friend and foe as the first Chinese scholar in Europe, ought to have their proper weight. They ought certainly to make us cautious before persuading ourselves that the connection between the northern and southern branches of the Turanian languages has been found in Chinese. On the other hand I am quite aware that all that M. Stanislas Julien says against Mr. Edkins may be true, and that nevertheless Chinese may have been the central language from which Mongolian in the north and Tibetan in the south branched off. A language, such as Chinese, with a small number of sounds and an immense number of meanings, can easily give birth to dialects which, in their later development, might branch off in totally different directions. Even with languages so closely connected as Sanskrit and Latin, it would be easy to make out a list of a thousand words in Latin which could not be matched in Sanskrit. The question, therefore, is not decided. What is wanted are researches carried on by competent scholars, in an unprejudiced and at the same time thoroughly scientific spirit.

28. If Mr. Chalmers’ comparison of the Chinese and Bohemian names for daughter is so unpardonable, what shall we say of Bopp’s comparison of the Bengali and Sanskrit names for sister? Sister in Bengali is bohinî, the Hindi bahin and bhân, the Prakrit bahiṇî, the Sanskrit bhaginî. Bopp, in the most elaborate way, derives bohinî from the Sanskrit svasṛ, sister. Bopp, Vergleichende Grammatik, Vorrede zur vierten Abtheilung, p. x.

29. Curtius, Verbum, p. 72.

30. Pott, E. F., 1871, p. 21.

31. Dr. Callaway, in his Remarks on the Zulu Language (1870), p. 2, says: “The Zulu Language contains upwards of 20,000 words in bonâ fide use among the people. Those curious appellations for different colored cattle, or for different maize cobs, to express certain minute peculiarities of color or arrangement of color, which it is difficult for us to grasp, are not synonymous, but instances in which a new noun or name is used instead of adding adjectives to one name to express the various conditions of an object. Neither are these various verbs used to express varieties of the same action, synonyms, such as ukupata, to carry in the hand, ukwetshata, to carry on the shoulder, ukubeleta, to carry on the back.”

32. Bruppacher, Lantlere der Oskischen Sprache, p. 48. Büchler, Grundriss der Lateinischen Declination, p. 1.

33. “Die Entstehung der Casus ist noch das allerdunkelste im weiten Bereich des indogermanischen Formensystems.” Curtius, Chronologie, p. 71.

34. Corssen, ii. 888.

35. Cf. Clemm, Die neusten Forschungen auf dem Gebiet der Griechischen Composita, p. 9.