cratylus- 第14部分

'enough　of　Metaphysics　to　get　rid　of　Metaphysics；'　it　would　have　made　far

greater　progress。



（4）　Our　knowledge　of　language　is　almost　confined　to　languages　which　are

fully　developed。　　They　are　of　several　patterns；　and　these　become　altered　by

admixture　in　various　degrees；they　may　only　borrow　a　few　words　from　one

another　and　retain　their　life　comparatively　unaltered；　or　they　may　meet　in

a　struggle　for　existence　until　one　of　the　two　is　overpowered　and　retires

from　the　field。　　They　attain　the　full　rights　and　dignity　of　language　when

they　acquire　the　use　of　writing　and　have　a　literature　of　their　own；　they

pass　into　dialects　and　grow　out　of　them；　in　proportion　as　men　are　isolated

or　united　by　locality　or　occupation。　　The　common　language　sometimes　reacts

upon　the　dialects　and　imparts　to　them　also　a　literary　character。　　The　laws

of　language　can　be　best　discerned　in　the　great　crises　of　language；

especially　in　the　transitions　from　ancient　to　modern　forms　of　them；　whether

in　Europe　or　Asia。　　Such　changes　are　the　silent　notes　of　the　world's

history；　they　mark　periods　of　unknown　length　in　which　war　and　conquest　were

running　riot　over　whole　continents；　times　of　suffering　too　great　to　be

endured　by　the　human　race；　in　which　the　masters　became　subjects　and　the

subject　races　masters；　in　which　driven　by　necessity　or　impelled　by　some

instinct；　tribes　or　nations　left　their　original　homes　and　but　slowly　found

a　resting…place。　　Language　would　be　the　greatest　of　all　historical

monuments；　if　it　could　only　tell　us　the　history　of　itself。



（5）　There　are　many　ways　in　which　we　may　approach　this　study。　　The　simplest

of　all　is　to　observe　our　own　use　of　language　in　conversation　or　in　writing；

how　we　put　words　together；　how　we　construct　and　connect　sentences；　what　are

the　rules　of　accent　and　rhythm　in　verse　or　prose；　the　formation　and

composition　of　words；　the　laws　of　euphony　and　sound；　the　affinities　of

letters；　the　mistakes　to　which　we　are　ourselves　most　liable　of　spelling　or

pronunciation。　　We　may　compare　with　our　own　language　some　other；　even　when

we　have　only　a　slight　knowledge　of　it；　such　as　French　or　German。　　Even　a

little　Latin　will　enable　us　to　appreciate　the　grand　difference　between

ancient　and　modern　European　languages。　　In　the　child　learning　to　speak　we

may　note　the　inherent　strength　of　language；　which　like　'a　mountain　river'

is　always　forcing　its　way　out。　　We　may　witness　the　delight　in　imitation　and

repetition；　and　some　of　the　laws　by　which　sounds　pass　into　one　another。　　We

may　learn　something　also　from　the　falterings　of　old　age；　the　searching　for

words；　and　the　confusion　of　them　with　one　another；　the　forgetfulness　of

proper　names　（more　commonly　than　of　other　words　because　they　are　more

isolated）；　aphasia；　and　the　like。　　There　are　philological　lessons　also　to

be　gathered　from　nicknames；　from　provincialisms；　from　the　slang　of　great

cities；　from　the　argot　of　Paris　（that　language　of　suffering　and　crime；　so

pathetically　described　by　Victor　Hugo）；　from　the　imperfect　articulation　of

the　deaf　and　dumb；　from　the　jabbering　of　animals；　from　the　analysis　of

sounds　in　relation　to　the　organs　of　speech。　　The　phonograph　affords　a

visible　evidence　of　the　nature　and　divisions　of　sound；　we　may　be　truly　said

to　know　what　we　can　manufacture。　　Artificial　languages；　such　as　that　of

Bishop　Wilkins；　are　chiefly　useful　in　showing　what　language　is　not。　　The

study　of　any　foreign　language　may　be　made　also　a　study　of　Comparative

Philology。　　There　are　several　points；　such　as　the　nature　of　irregular

verbs；　of　indeclinable　parts　of　speech；　the　influence　of　euphony；　the　decay

or　loss　of　inflections；　the　elements　of　syntax；　which　may　be　examined　as

well　in　the　history　of　our　own　language　as　of　any　other。　　A　few　well…

selected　questions　may　lead　the　student　at　once　into　the　heart　of　the

mystery：　　such　as；　Why　are　the　pronouns　and　the　verb　of　existence　generally

more　irregular　than　any　other　parts　of　speech？　　Why　is　the　number　of　words

so　small　in　which　the　sound　is　an　echo　of　the　sense？　　Why　does　the　meaning

of　words　depart　so　widely　from　their　etymology？　　Why　do　substantives　often

differ　in　meaning　from　the　verbs　to　which　they　are　related；　adverbs　from

adjectives？　　Why　do　words　differing　in　origin　coalesce　in　the　same　sound

though　retaining　their　differences　of　meaning？　　Why　are　some　verbs

impersonal？　　Why　are　there　only　so　many　parts　of　speech；　and　on　what

principle　are　they　divided？　　These　are　a　few　crucial　questions　which　give

us　an　insight　from　different　points　of　view　into　the　true　nature　of

language。



（6）　Thus　far　we　have　been　endeavouring　to　strip　off　from　language　the　false

appearances　in　which　grammar　and　philology；　or　the　love　of　system

generally；　have　clothed　it。　　We　have　also　sought　to　indicate　the　sources　of

our　knowledge　of　it　and　the　spirit　in　which　we　should　approach　it；　we　may

now　proceed　to　consider　some　of　the　principles　or　natural　laws　which　have

created　or　modified　it。



i。　　The　first　and　simplest　of　all　the　principles　of　language；　common　also

to　the　animals；　is　imitation。　　The　lion　roars；　the　wolf　howls　in　the

solitude　of　the　forest：　　they　are　answered　by　similar　cries　heard　from　a

distance。　　The　bird；　too；　mimics　the　voice　of　man　and　makes　answer　to　him。

Man　tells　to　man　the　secret　place　in　which　he　is　hiding　himself；　he

remembers　and　repeats　the　sound　which　he　has　heard。　　The　love　of　imitation

becomes　a　passion　and　an　instinct　to　him。　　Primitive　men　learnt　to　speak

from　one　another；　like　a　child　from　its　mother　or　nurse。　　They　learnt　of

course　a　rudimentary；　half…articulate　language；　the　cry　or　song　or　speech

which　was　the　expression　of　what　we　now　call　human　thoughts　and　feelings。　

We　may　still　remark　how　much　greater　and　more　natural　the　exercise　of　the

power　is　in　the　use　of　language　than　in　any　other　process　or　action　of　the

human　mind。



ii。　　Imitation　provided　the　first　material　of　language：　　but　it　was

'without　form　and　void。'　　During　how　many　years　or　hundreds　or　thousands　of

years　the　imitative　or　half…articulate　stage　continued　there　is　no

possibility　of　determining。　　But　we　may　reasonably　conjecture　that　there

was　a　time　when　the　vocal　utterance　of　man　was　intermediate　between　what　we

now　call　language　and　the　cry　of　a　bird　or　animal。　　Speech　before　language

was　a　rudis　indigestaque　materies；　not　yet　distributed　into　words　and

sentences；　in　which　the　cry　of　fear　or　joy　mingled　with　more　definite

sounds　recognized　by　custom　as　the　expressions　of　things　or　events。　　It　was

the　principle　of　analogy　which　introduced　into　this　'indigesta　moles'　order

and　measure。　　It　was　Anaxagoras'　omou　panta　chremata；　eita　nous　elthon

diekosmese：　　the　light　of　reason　lighted　up　all　things　and　at　once　began　to

arrange　them。　　In　every　sentence；　in　every　word　and　every　termination　of　a

word；　this　power　of　forming　relations　to　one　another　was　contained。　　There

was　a　proportion　of　sound　to　sound；　of　meaning　to　meaning；　of　meaning　to

sound。　　The　cases　and　numbers　of　nouns；　the　persons；　tenses；　numbers　of

verbs；　were　generally　on　the　same　or　nearly　the　same　pattern　and　had　the

same　meaning。　　The　sounds　by　which　they　were　expressed　were　rough…hewn　at

first；　after　a　while　they　grew　more　refinedthe　natural　laws　of　euphony

began　to　affect　them。　　The　rules　of　syntax　are　likewise　based　upon　analogy。　

Time　has　an　analogy　with　space；　arithmetic　with　geometry。　　Not　only　in

musical　notes；　but　in　the　quantity；　quality；　accent；　rhythm　of　human

speech；　trivial　or　serious；　there　is　a　law　of　proportion。　　As　in　things　of

beauty；　as　in　all　nature；　in　the　composition　as　well　as　in　the　motion　of

all　things；　there　is　a　similarity　of　relations　by　which　they　are　held

together。



It　would　be　a　mistake　to　suppose　that　the　analogies　of　language　are　always

uniform：　　there　may　be　often　a　choice　between　several；　and　sometimes　one

and　sometimes　another　will　prevail。　　In　Greek　there　are　three　declensions

of　nouns；　the　forms　of　cases　in　one　of　them　may　intrude　upon　another。　

Similarly　verbs　in　…omega　and　…mu　iota　interchange　forms　of　tenses；　and　the

completed　paradigm　of　the　verb　is　often　made　up　of　both。　　The　same　nouns

may　be　partly　declinable　and　partly　indeclinable；　and　in　some　of　their

cases　may　have　fallen　out　of　use。　　Here　are　rules　with　exceptions；　they　are

not　however　really　exceptions；　but　contain　in　themselves　indications　of

other　rules。　　Many　of　these　interruptions　or　variations　of　analogy　occur　in

pronouns　or　in　the　verb　of　existence　of　which　the　forms　were　too　common　and

therefore　too　deeply　imbedded　in　language　entirely　to　drop　out。　　The　same

verbs　in　the　same　meaning　may　sometimes　take　one　case；　sometimes　another。　

The　participle　may　also　have　the　character　of　an　adjective；　the　adverb

either　of　an　adjective　or　of　a　preposition。　　These　exceptions　are　as

regular　as　the　rules；　but　the　causes　of　them　are　seldom　known　to　us。



Language；　like　the　animal　and　vegetable　worlds；　is　everywhere　intersected

by　the　lines　of　analogy。　　Like　number　from　which　it　seems　to　be　derived；

the　principle　of　analogy　opens　the　eyes　of　men　to　discern　the　similarities

and　differences　of　things；　and　their　relations　to　one　another。　　At　first

these　are　such　as　lie　on　the　surface　only；　after　a　time　they　are　seen　by

men　to　reach　farther　down　into　the　nature　of　things。　　Gradually　in　language

they　arrange　themselves　into　a　sort　of　imperfect　system；　groups　of　personal

and　case　endings　are　placed　side　by　side。　　The　fertility　of　language

produces　many　more　than　are　wanted；　and　the　superfluous　ones　are　utilized

by　the　assignment　to　them　of　new　meanings。　　The　vacuity　and　the　superfluity

are　thus　partially　compensated　by　each　other。　　It　must　be　remembered　that

in　all　the　languages　which　have　a　literature；　certainly　in　Sanskrit；　Greek；

Latin；　we　are　not　at　the　beginning　but　almost　at　the　end　of　the　linguistic

process；　we　have　reached　a　time　when　the　verb　and　the　noun　are　nearly

perfected；　though　in　no　language　did　they