Читать книгу Introduction to the study of the history of language - Benjamin Ide Wheeler - Страница 5

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The most elementary study of Comparative Philology teaches us that from a language which, in all essentials, may be considered one uniform tongue, there have frequently sprung several others; and that these, in their turn, have parted into new dialects or distinct languages. This process has been usually compared to that which we see operative in the growth and development of organic nature; and the relationship between various languages has often been expressed by the terms applicable to the human family. Latin, for instance, is called the parent of French, Spanish, Portuguese, and the other Romance dialects; English and Dutch are called sister-tongues, while the last-named pair may be called cousins of German.

The comparison implied by such use of these terms is in the main correct; but it would be more exact to illustrate the relationship between languages from the language of Botany: we might consider the language of each individual speaker as the parallel of the individual plant, and compare the various dialects, languages, and families of languages, to the varieties, species, and classes of the vegetable kingdom. Even then our simile is but partially applicable, and a careful consideration of how far it holds good, and where and when it becomes misleading, will be found instructive to a student of language.

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.’

All would now be simple and easy if lines of demarcation thus arrived at were found to coincide with whatever peculiarities or characteristics we happened to choose for our criteria. But the fact is that groups which would be classed together in view of some special points of resemblance will fall asunder when other points are considered as essential characteristics; for the spread of characteristics derived from intercourse with one district must frequently be checked and thwarted by intercourse with another district that does not share the same tendency.

Thus, if we make use of the letter a to indicate a group of individuals speaking a tongue essentially identical, employing b for another such group, c for a third, and so on, then a and b may very possibly correspond in usage or pronunciation in some point, x, in which both may differ from c, while a and c, but not b, will be found to agree in y. In yet a third point, z, in which they both differ from a, etc., b and c may agree; whilst a, b, c and other groups may very well have points, w, t, etc., in common with one another and with d or e, and in these same points will differ from f. On the other hand, f may agree in some other points with a, in some with b, in some with c, etc.

It is unnecessary to dwell further on this. We see plainly that as different alterations have a different extent and different lines of demarcation, the crossings of groups and resemblances may be expected to become of infinite complexity.

But if, further, we suppose the differentiation between a, b, and c to be already so great that we may regard these as separate dialects, yet it is by no means impossible that a tendency to some alteration should make itself felt in each of them, or that, having arisen in one, the peculiarity should spread over all. It follows from this consideration that any peculiarity shared by all or many dialects of a language is not necessarily older than one which characterises only a few, though, of course, that such will be the case is the natural assumption.

Nor are the most strongly marked characteristics, by whose means we now distinguish existing dialects, and according to which we range them into groups, necessarily older than those which we overlook in deciding these mutual relationships. To instance this, we may refer to the various Teutonic dialects, which undoubtedly had many marked differences long before the process of sound-shifting began. It was some time in or near the seventh century A.D. when some of these dialects commenced to substitute p for b, t for d, k for g; t became ts (z), k became h, p became f or pf, and in some cases b and g were substituted for the sonant fricatives v and g.3 This change or sound-shifting was in progress during something like two centuries, and it is according to the extent of their participation in this that we classify the various dialects as High German, Middle German, and Low German, respectively. We consequently class as Low German three dialects which otherwise present very strongly marked differences: the Frisian, the Saxon, and in part the Franconian, the case of which last is especially instructive.

The Franconian dialect did not as a whole participate in the changes to which we have alluded above. Only the more southern part of the Franconian tribe adopted the sound-shifting, in common with other southern tribes which spoke distinctly different dialects. Consequently, adhering to our above-mentioned principle of classification, we must class the so-called Low Franconian in a group totally distinct from that in which the High Franconian must be placed, notwithstanding the fact that in other respects these dialects have preserved many important resemblances.

It would also be incorrect to regard dialects which have become more strongly differentiated than others as having necessarily become so at an earlier date. The widest divergence is not necessarily the oldest, for circumstances may arise to facilitate the widening of a recent breach, as they may, on the other hand, arise to prevent a slight divergence of long standing from becoming a gap of importance. If two groups, a and b, are differentiated, and yet keep up sufficient intercourse, they may very well remain similar, though not equal, during a very long period; while a subdivision of a, which circumstances only affecting a minority in that group have separated later, may develop a rapidly increasing divergence between its small community on the one hand, and the remaining members of a together with the whole of b on the other.

One more lesson resulting from the foregoing consideration is the following. It is too often assumed as a matter of course that the speech of districts lying between others that possess strongly differentiated languages is the result of the contact and commixture of the two latter. Such possibility is indeed not denied; it, in fact, often occurs; but the alternative supposition that the mixture is a survival of some intermediate dialect is equally possible, and must not be forgotten.

It is clear that what we now call languages are merely further developments of dialects; but here once more we may easily err by assuming too much. If we find two distinct languages, it does not necessarily follow that they have passed through a stage in which they were two dialects, distinct indeed, but differing to a less extent than at present. Indicating dialects by a and b, and languages by A and B, we must not conclude, on meeting with the two latter, that A must have inevitably originated from a, and B from b. It is quite possible that both A and B may have arisen from (say) a alone; and of this possibility Anglo-Saxon and its descendant Modern English furnish a clear instance.

The dialect spoken by the invaders differed, if at all, in a very slight degree from the Frisian (a), which followed a regular course of development in its ancestral home. But the language of the invaders (which, in view of its identity or close resemblance with the Frisian, we may also call a) had in the British Islands a different history and a different development. It was rapidly differentiated, and one of its dialects became a literary language, distinct in every point from its sister-tongue. Thus the modern representative of Frisian (A), and our present literary English (B) are found to have sprung from one source (a) alone.

The consideration of this case leads us to our next point. In all the foregoing cases we presupposed that the speakers of the individual language or of the group-languages were on the whole stationary. We need not here indicate at length the effect upon a community of its migration into regions where other languages are prevalent. The result is commonly a mixed language: and the subject of so-called mixed languages we reserve for another chapter: here we need only remind the student that by such migrations the connection of the language of the emigrants with that of other communities of similar speech is loosened, and the action of differentiating forces, which thus acquire free and unrestricted play, must necessarily be augmented.

The criterion for distinction of dialects among a community of individual languages is, and must be, their phonetic character. Vocabulary and syntax are easily and generally maintained, or, if anything new arises, it may possibly spread over wide areas; but differences of pronunciation and peculiarities of utterance do not necessarily result from the borrowing of new terms.

For instance: a community which pronounces a of father as aw (i.e. like a in all) will do so even when borrowing a word from some dialect in which the pure a is usual.

In conclusion, we must not omit to combat an error too often repeated in books on language which enjoy a reputation otherwise well-deserved. It is a common notion that the tendency to differentiation is, as civilisation advances, replaced by one towards unification; in proof of which we are reminded of the one uniform literary language which, among the educated members of a nation, replaces the various provincial dialects. But this literary language is by no means a regular and natural development of the pre-existing dialects.

One of these, favoured by circumstances political or literary, obtains a supremacy which causes its adoption by those who would otherwise ignore it and continue to speak the dialects of their own provinces, counties, or districts. Hence it is in a certain sense a foreign tongue to them, and though in course of time it may come to replace the indigenous dialect of any district, so that scarcely a trace of the latter remains, it would be misleading to say that this dialect has developed into a language before which it has in reality disappeared.