VOLUME IV. (continued 2)
Reading edition
Datives in vane.
Of datives in váne I only know dāvâne, a most valuable grammatical relic, by which Professor Benfey was enabled to explain the Greek δοῦναι, i.e., δοϝέναι.34
Datives in ane.
Of datives in áne I pointed out (l.c.) dhûrv-ane and vibhv-áne, VI. 61, 13, taking the latter as synonymous with vibhvế, and translating, Sarasvatî, the great, made to conquer, like a chariot. Professor Roth, s.v. vibhván, takes the dative for an instrumental, and translates “made by an artificer.” It is, however, not the chariot that is spoken of, but Sarasvatî, and of her it could hardly be said that she was made either by or for an artificer.
Locatives in sani.
As we saw before that aoristic bases in s take the datival e, so that we had prák-sh-e by the side of pṛ́c-e, we shall have to consider here aoristic bases in s, taking the suffix an, not however with the termination of the dative, but with that of the locative i. Thus we read X. 126, 3, náyishṭhâḥ u naḥ nesháṇi párshishṭhâḥ u naḥ parsháṇi áti dvíshaḥ, they who are the best leaders to lead us, the best helpers to help us to overcome our enemies, lit. in leading us, in helping us. In VIII. 12, 19, gṛṇîsháni, i.e. gṛ-ṇî-sháṇ-i stands parallel with turv-án-e, thus showing how both cases can answer nearly the same purpose. If these forms existed in Greek, they would, after consonantal bases, be identical with the infinitives of the future.
Cases of Verbal Nouns in tu.
We next come to a large number of datives, ablatives, or genitives, and accusatives of verbal nouns in tu. This tu occurs in Sanskrit in abstract nouns such as gâtú, going, way, etc., in Latin in adven-tus, etc. As these forms have been often treated, and as some of them occur frequently in later Sanskrit also, it will suffice to give one example of each:—
Dative in tave: gántave, to go, I. 46, 7.
Old form in ai: gántavái, X. 95, 14.
Genitive in toḥ: dâtoḥ, governed by îśe, VII. 4, 6.
Ablative in toḥ: gántoḥ, I. 89, 9.
Accusative in tum: gántum. This is the supine in tum in Latin.
Cases of Verbal Nouns in tva.
Next follow cases of verbal nouns in tvá, the accent being on the suffix.
Datives in tvấya: hatvấya, X. 84, 2.
Instrumental in tvấ: hatvấ, I. 100, 18.
Older form in tvî́: hatvî́, II. 17, 6; gatvî́, IV. 41, 5.
Datives in dhai and dhyai.
I have left to the end datives in dhai and dhyai, which properly belong to the datives in ai, treated before, but differ from them as being datives of compound nouns. As from máyaḥ, delight, we have mayaskará, delight-making, mayobhú, delight-causing, and constructions like máyo dádhe, so from váyas, life, vigor, we have váyaskṛ́t, life-giving, and constructions like váyo dhât. From dhâ we can frame two substantival frame, dhâ and dhi-s, e.g. puro-dhâ, and puro-dhis, like vi-dhi-s. As an ordinary substantive, purodhâ takes the feminine termination â, and is declined like śivâ. But if the verbal base remains at the end of a compound without the feminine suffix, a compound like vayodhâ would form its dative vayodhe (Grammar, § 239); and as in analogous cases we found old datives in ai, instead of e, e.g. parâdai, nothing can be said against vayodhai, as a Vedic dative of vayodhâ. The dative of purodhi would be purodhaye, but here again, as, besides forms like dṛśaye, we met with datives, such as ityai, rohishyai, there is no difficulty in admitting an analogous dative of purodhi, viz., purodhyai.
The old dative dhai has been preserved to us in one form only, which for that reason is all the more valuable and important, offering the key to the mysterious Greek infinitives in θαι, I mean vayodhái, which occurs twice in the Rig-Veda, X. 55, 1, and X. 67, 11. The importance of this relic would have been perceived long ago, if there had not been some uncertainty as to whether such a form really existed in the Veda. By some accident or other, Professor Aufrecht had printed in both passages vayodhaiḥ, instead of vayodhai. But for this, no one, I believe, would have doubted that in this form vayodhai we have not only the most valuable prototype of the Greek infinitives in (σ)θαι, but at the same time their full explanation. Vayodhai stands for vayas-dhai, in which composition the first part vayas is a neuter base in as, the second a dative of the auxiliary verb dhâ, used as a substantive. If, therefore, we find corresponding to vayodhai a Greek infinitive βέεσθαι, we must divide it into βέεσ-θαι, as we divide ψεύδεσθαι into ψεύδεσ-θαι, and translate it literally by “to do lying.”
It has been common to identify Greek infinitives in σθαι with corresponding Sanskrit forms ending in dhyai. No doubt these forms in dhyai are much more frequent than forms in dhai, but as we can only take them as old datives of substantives in dhi, it would be difficult to identify the two. The Sanskrit dhy appears, no doubt, in Greek, as σσ, dh being represented by the surd θ, and then assibilated by y; but we could hardly attempt to explain σθ = θy, because σδ = ζ = δy. Therefore, unless we are prepared to see with Bopp in the σ before θ, in this and similar forms, a remnant of the reflexive pronoun, nothing remains but to accept the explanation offered by the Vedic vayodhai, and to separate ψεύδεσθαι into ψεύδεσ-θαι lying to do. That this grammatical compound, if once found successful, should have been repeated in other tenses, giving us not only γράφεσ-θαι, but γράψεσ-θαι, γράψασ-θαι, and even γραφθήσεσ-θαι, is no more than what we may see again and again in the grammatical development of ancient and modern languages. Some scholars have objected on the same ground to Bopp’s explanation of ama-mini, as the nom. plur. of a participle, because they think it impossible to look upon amemini, amabâmini, amaremini, amabimini as participial formations. But if a mould is once made in language, it is used again and again, and little account is taken of its original intention. If we object to γράψεσ-θαι, why not to κελευ-σέ-μεναι or τεθνά-μεναι or μιχθή-μεναι? In Sanskrit, too, we should hesitate to form a compound of a modified verbal base, such as pṛṇa, with dhi, doing; yet as the Sanskrit ear was accustomed to yajadhyai from yaja, gamadhyai from gama, it did not protest against pṛṇadhyai, vâvṛdhadhyai, etc.
Historical Importance of these Grammatical Forms.
And while these ancient grammatical forms which supply the foundation of what in Greek, Latin, and other languages we are accustomed to call infinitives are of the highest interest to the grammarian and the logician, their importance is hardly less in the eyes of the historian. Every honest student of antiquity, whether his special field be India, Persia, Assyria, or Egypt, knows how often he is filled with fear and trembling when he meets with thoughts and expressions which, as he is apt to say, cannot be ancient. I have frequently confessed to that feeling with regard to some of the hymns of the Rig-Veda, and I well remember the time when I felt inclined to throw up the whole work as modern and unworthy of the time and labor bestowed upon it. At that time I was always comforted by these so-called infinitives and other relics of ancient language. They could not have been fabricated in India. They are unknown in ordinary Sanskrit, they are unintelligible as far as their origin is concerned in Greek and Latin, and yet in the Vedic language we find these forms, not only identical with Greek and Latin forms, but furnishing the key to their formation in Greece and Italy. The Vedic vayas-dhái compared with Greek βεεσ-θαι, the Vedic stushe compared with λυσαι are to my mind evidence in support of the antiquity and genuineness of the Veda that cannot be shaken by any arguments.
The Infinitive in English.
I add a few words on the infinitive in English, though it has been well treated by Dr. March in his “Grammar of the Anglo-Saxon Language,” by Dr. Morris, and others. We find in Anglo-Saxon two forms, one generally called the infinitive, nim-an, to take, the other the gerund, to nim-anne, to take. Dr. March explains the first as identical with Greek νέμ-ειν and νέμ-εν-αι, i.e., as an oblique case, probably the dative, of a verbal noun in an. He himself quotes only the dative of nominal bases in a, e.g. namanâya, because he was probably unacquainted with the nearer forms in an-e supplied by the Veda. This infinitive exists in Gothic as nim-an, in Old Saxon as nim-an, in Old Norse as nem-a, in Old High German as nem-an. The so-called gerund, to nimanne, is rightly traced back by Dr. March to Old Saxon nim-annia, but he can hardly be right in identifying these old datival forms with the Sanskrit base nam-anîya. In the Second Period of English (1100–1250)35 the termination of the infinitive became en, and frequently dropped the final n, as smelle = smellen; while the termination of the gerund at the same time became enne, (ende), ene, en, or e, so that outwardly the two forms appear to be identical, as early as the 12th century.36 Still later, towards the end of the 14th century, the terminations were entirely lost, though Spenser and Shakespeare have occasionally to killen, passen, delven, when they wished to impart an archaic character to their language. In modern English the infinitive with to is used as a verbal substantive. When we say, “I wish you to do this,” “you are able to do this,” we can still perceive the datival function of the infinitive. Likewise in such phrases, “it is time,” “it is proper,” “it is wrong to do that,” to do may still be felt as an oblique case. But we have only to invert these sentences, and say, “to do this is wrong,” and we have a new substantive in the nom. sing., just as in the Greek τὸ λέγειν. Expressions like for to do, show that the simple to was not always felt to be sufficiently expressive to convey the meaning of an original dative.
Works on the Infinitive.
The infinitive has formed the subject of many learned treatises. I divide them into two classes, those which appeared before and after Wilhelm’s excellent essay, written in Latin, “De Infinitivi Vi et Natura,” 1868; and in a new and improved edition, “De Infinitivo Linguarum Sanscritæ, Bactricæ, Persicæ, Græcæ, Oscæ, Umbricæ, Latinæ, Goticæ, forma et usu,” Isenaci, 1873. In this essay the evidence supplied by the Veda was for the first time fully collected, and the whole question of the nature of the infinitive placed in its true historical light. Before Wilhelm the more important works were Hofer’s book, “Vom Infinitiv, besonders im Sanskrit,” Berlin, 1840; Bopp’s paragraphs in his “Comparative Grammar;” Humboldt’s paper, in Schlegel’s “Indische Bibliothek” (II. 74), 1824; and his posthumous paper in Kuhn’s “Zeitschrift” (II. 245), 1853; some dissertations by L. Meyer, Merguet, and Golenski. Benfey’s “Sanskrit Grammar” (1852), too, ought to be mentioned, as having laid the first solid foundations for this and all other branches of grammatical research, as far as Sanskrit is concerned. After Wilhelm the same subject has been treated with great independence by Ludwig, “Der Infinitif im Veda,” 1871, and again “Agglutination oder Adaptation,” 1873; and also by Jolly, “Geschichte des Infinitivs,” 1873.
I had myself discussed some questions connected with the nature of the infinitive in my “Lectures on the Science of Language,” vol. ii. p. 15 seq., and I had pointed out in Kuhn’s “Zeitschrift,” XV. 215 (1866) the great importance of the Vedic vayodhai for unraveling the formation of Greek infinitives in σ-θαι.
The Infinitive in Bengali.
At a still earlier time, in 1847, in my “Essay on Bengali,” I said: “As the infinitives of the Indo-Germanic languages must be regarded as the absolute cases of a verbal noun, it is probable that in Bengali the infinitive in ite was also originally a locative, which expressed not only local situation, but also movement towards some object, as an end, whether real or imaginary. Thus the Bengali infinitive corresponds exactly with the English, where the relation of case is expressed by the preposition to. Ex. tâhâke mârite âmi âsiyâchi, means, I came to the state of beating him, or, I came to beat him; âmâke mârite deo, give me (permission), let me (go) to the action of beating, i.e., allow me to beat. Now as the form of the participle is the same as that of the infinitive, it may be doubted if there is really a distinction between these two forms as to their origin. For instance, the phrase âpan putrake mârite âmi tâhâka dekhilâm, can be translated, I saw him beating his own son; but it can be explained also as, what they nonsensically call in Latin grammar accusativus cum infinitivo, that is to say, the infinitive can be taken for a locative of the verbal noun, and the whole phrase be translated, I saw him in the action of beating his own son, (vidi patrem cædere ipsius filium). As in every Bengali phrase the participle in ite can be understood in this manner, I think it admissible to ascribe this origin to it, and instead of taking it for a nominative of a verbal adjective, to consider it as a locative of a verbal noun.”
The Infinitive in the Dravidian Languages.
I also tried to show that the infinitive in the Dravidian languages is a verbal noun with or without a case suffix. This view has been confirmed by Dr. Caldwell, but, in deference to him, I gladly withdraw the explanation which I proposed in reference to the infinitive in Tamil. I quote from Dr. Caldwell’s “Comparative Grammar of the Dravidian Languages,” 2d ed. p. 423: “Professor Max Müller, noticing that the majority of Tamil infinitives terminate in ka, supposed this ka to be identical in origin with kô, the dative-accusative case-sign of the Hindi, and concluded that the Dravidian infinitive was the accusative of a verbal noun. It is true that the Sanskrit infinitive and Latin supine in tum is correctly regarded as an accusative, and that our English infinitive to do, is the dative of a verbal noun; it is also true that the Dravidian infinitive is a verbal noun in origin, and never altogether loses that character; nevertheless, the supposition that the final ka of most Tamil infinitives is in any manner connected with ku, the sign of the Dravidian dative, or of kô, the Hindi dative-accusative, is inadmissible. A comparison of various classes of verbs and of the various dialects shows that the kâ in question proceeds from a totally different source.”
On Labialized and Unlabialized Gutturals.
As in my article on Vayodhai, published in Kuhn’s “Zeitschrift,” 1866, p. 215, I had entered a caveat against identifying Greek β with Sanskrit ज, I take this opportunity of frankly withdrawing it. Phonetically, no doubt, these two letters represent totally distinct powers, and to say that Sanskrit ज ever became Greek β is as irrational to-day as it was ten years ago. But historically I was entirely wrong, as will be seen from the last edition of Curtius’ “Grundzüge.” The guttural sonant check was palatalized in the Southeastern Branch, and there became j and z, while in the Northwestern Branch the same g was frequently labialized and became gv, v, and b. Hence, where we have ज in Sanskrit, we may and do find β in Greek.
But after withdrawing my former caveat, I make bold to propose another, namely, that the original palatal sonant flatus, which in Sanskrit is graphically represented by j, can never be represented in Greek by β. Whether j in Sanskrit represents an original palatal sonant check or an original palatal sonant flatus can generally be determined by a reference to Zend, which represents the former by j, the latter by z. We may therefore formulate this phonetic law:—
“When Sanskrit j is represented by Zend z, it cannot be represented by Greek β.”
In this manner it is possible, I believe, to utilize Ascoli’s and Fick’s brilliant discovery as to a twofold, or even threefold, distinction of the Aryan k, as applied to the Aryan g. They have proved that all Aryan languages show traces of an original distinction between a guttural surd check, k, frequently palatalized in the Southeastern Branch (Sk. c, Zend c) and liable to labialization, in Latin, Greek, Cymric, and Gothic; and another k, never liable to labialization, but changed into a flatus, palatal or otherwise, in Sanskrit, Lithuanian, and Old Slavonic. They showed, in fact,—
Sanskrit. Lith. Slav. Gadh. & Cym. Lat. Greek. Gothic.
क (च) = k = k, č, c = c = p = c, qu, v = κ, κϝ, κκ, π, ππ, τ, ττ, = hv, h.
श = sz = s = c = c = κ = h
In the same manner we ought in future to distinguish between a guttural sonant check, g, frequently palatalized in the Southeastern Branch (Sk. j, Zend j), and liable to labialization, like k; and another g, never liable to labialization, but changed into a flatus, palatal or otherwise, in Zend, Lithuanian, and Old Slavonic. As we never have π = श we never have β = ज, if ज in Zend is z.
The evidence will be found under Sk. jan, jabh, jar (to decay, and to praise), jush, jñâ, jñu, jâmâtar; aj, bhrâj, marj, yaj, raj(atam).
Gothic quinô, Gadh. ben, Bœot. βάνα depend on Zend jeni; Gadh. baith-is on Zend jaf-ra. It is wrong to connect σβεσ with jas, on account of Zend zas, and gyâ-ni with βία, on account of Zend zyâ-ni.