have now to ask, can we reconcile with these three distinct forms, the radical, the terminational, and the inflectional, the admission of one common origin of human speech? I answer decidedly, Yes. The chief argument that has been brought forward against the common origin of language is this, that no monosyllabic or radical language has ever entered into an agglutinative or terminational stage, and that no agglutinative or terminational language has ever risen to the inflectional stage. Chinese, it is said, is still what it has been from the beginning; it has never produced agglutinative or inflectional forms; nor has any Turanian language ever given up the distinctive feature of the terminational stage, namely, the integrity of its roots. In answer to this it should be pointed out that though each language, as soon as it once becomes settled, retains that morphological character which it had when it first assumed its individual or national existence, it does not lose altogether the power of producing grammatical forms that belong to a higher stage. In Chinese, and particularly in Chinese dialects, we find rudimentary traces of agglutination. The li which I mentioned before as the sign of the locative, has dwindled down. to a mere postposition, and a modern Chinese is no more aware that li meant originally interior, than the Turanian is of the origin of his case-terminations.1 In 1 M. Stanislas Julien remarks that the numerous compounds which occur in Chinese prove the wide-spread influence of the principle of agglutination in that language. The fact is, that in Chinese every sound has numerous meanings; and in order to avoid ambiguity, one word is frequently followed by another which agrees with it in that particular meaning which is intended by the speaker. Thus: chi-youen (beginning-origin) signifies beginning. the spoken dialects of Chinese, agglutinative forms are of more frequent occurrence. Thus, in the Shanghai dialect, wo is to speak, as a verb; woda, a word. Of woda a genitive is formed, woda-ka, a dative pela woda, an accusative tang woda.1 In agglutinative languages again, we meet with rudimentary traces of inflection. Thus in Tamil the root tûngu, to sleep, has not retained its full integrity in the derivative tûkkam, sleep. I mention these instances, which might be greatly multiplied, in order to show that there is nothing mysterious in the tenacity with which each language clings in general to that stage of grammar which it had attained at the time of its first settlement. If a family, or a tribe, or a nation, has once accustomed itself to express its ideas according to one system of grammar, that first mould remains and becomes stronger with each generation. But, while Chinese was arrested and became traditional in this very early stage the radical, other dialects passed on through that stage, retaining their pliancy. They were not arrested, and did not become traditional or national, before those who spoke them had learnt to appreciate the advantage of agglutination. That advantage being once perceived, a few single forms in which agglutination first showed itself would soon, by that sense of analogy which is in youen-chi (origin-beginning) signifies beginning. mei-miai (beautiful-remarkable) signifies beautiful. tsong-yong (to obey, easy) signifies easily. In order to express 66 to boast," the Chinese say king-koua, king-fa, &c., both words having one and the same meaning. This peculiar system of juxta-position, however, cannot be considered as agglutination in the strict sense of the word. 1 Turanian Languages, p. 24. herent in language, extend their influence irresistibly. Languages arrested in that stage would cling with equal tenacity to the system of agglutination. A Chinese can hardly understand how language is possible, unless every syllable is significative; a Turanian despises every idiom in which each word does not display distinctly its radical and significative element; whereas, we who are accustomed to the use of inflectional languages, are proud of the very grammar which a Chinese and Turanian would treat with contempt. The fact, therefore, that languages, if once settled, do not change their grammatical constitution, is no argument against our theory, that every inflectional language was once agglutinative, and every agglutinative language was once monosyllabic. I call it a theory, but it is more than a theory, for it is the only possible way in which the realities of Sanskrit or any other inflectional language can be explained. As far as the formal part of language is concerned, we cannot resist the conclusion that what is now inflectional was formerly agglutinative, and what is now agglutinative was at first radical. The great stream of language rolled on in numberless dialects, and changed its grammatical coloring as it passed from time to time. through new deposits of thought. The different channels which left the main current and became stationary and stagnant, or, if you like, literary and traditional, retained forever that coloring which the main current displayed at the stage of their separa tion. If we call the radical stage white, the agglutinative red, and the inflectional blue, then we may well understand why the white channels should show hardly a drop of red or blue, or why the red channels should hardly betray a shadow of blue; and we shall be prepared to find what we do find, namely, white tints in the red, and white and red tints in the blue channels of speech. You will have perceived that in what I have said I only argue for the possibility, not for the necessity, of a common origin of language. I look upon the problem of the common origin of language, which I have shown to be quite independent of the problem of the common origin of mankind, as a question which ought to be kept open as long as possible. It is not, I believe, a problem quite as hopeless as that of the plurality of worlds, on which so much has been written of late, but it should be treated very much in the same manner. As it is impossible to demonstrate by the evidence of the senses that the planets are inhabited, the only way to prove that they are, is to prove that it is impossible that they should not be. Thus on the other hand, in order to prove that the planets are not inhabited, you must prove that it is impossible that they should be. As soon as the one or the other has been proved, the question will be set at rest: till then it must remain an open question, whatever our own predilections on the subject may be. I do not take quite as desponding a view of the problem of the common origin of language, but I insist on this, that we ought not to allow this problem to be in any way prejudged. Now it has been the tendency of the most distinguished writers on comparative philology to take it almost for granted, that after the discovery of the two families of language, the Aryan and Semitic, and after the establishment of the close ties of relationship which unite the members of each, it would be impossible to admit any longer a common origin of language. It was natural, after the criteria by which the unity of the Aryan as well as the Semitic dialects can be proved had been so successfully defined, that the absence of similar coincidences between any Semitic and Aryan language, or between these and any other branch of speech, should have led to a belief that no connection was admissible between them. A Linnæan botanist, who has his definite marks by which to recognize an Anemone, would reject with equal confidence any connection between the species Anemone and other flowers which have since been classed under the same head though deficient in the Linnæan marks of the Anemone. But there are surely different degrees of affinity in languages as well as in all other productions of nature, and the different families of speech, though they cannot show the same signs of relationship by which their members are held together, need not of necessity have been perfect strangers to each other from the beginning. Now I confess that when I found the argument used over and over again, that it is impossible any longer to speak of a common origin of language, because comparative philology had proved that there existed various families of language, I felt that this was not true, that at all events it was an exaggeration. The problem, if properly viewed, bears the following aspect:"If you wish to assert that language had various beginnings, you must prove it impossible that language could have had a common origin." No such impossibility has ever been established |