It is one thing to speak Latin, and another to speak grammar. (Quintilian 1920-22, vi.27)
Grammar seems to be
permanently split into two camps: one of theoretical, philosophically oriented
grammarians; the other of pedagogically engaged, and hence prescriptive,
grammarians. A teaching grammar necessarily prescribes what linguistic
structures are to be learned.
It must demonstrate an approved model of
grammatical usage to establish criteria for good usage and good style. In
antiquity the standards for language excellence were the great poets like
Homer, Virgil, and Horace; dramatists like Aeschylus, Euripides, Plautus,
Seneca, and Terence; orators and rhetoricians such as Isocrates, Demosthenes,
Cato the elder, Cicero, and Quintilian. The literary greats were normally
canonized only when long dead: good style was invested in revered models from
the past. Within the western world, from the fourth century to the nineteenth,
this reverence for past authority in literary and grammatical excellence was
transferred to the language of the Bible and the Church fathers. The celebrated
originators of school grammars of Latin, such as Donatus and Priscian, were
also treated with reverence in the middle ages; it was, however, acceptable to
criticize their statements on grammar and the limitations of their grammars as
it never was tolerable to criticize the language of the Church, which set a new
standard for pure Latin. Our chapter begins with a review of pedagogical
grammar in the Europe of the early middle ages, which established a tradition
of prescriptive grammars that has lasted until today.
During the renaissance,
or a little before, interest shifted from sole concern with the grammar of
Latin (because it was the language of the Church) to writing grammars of
vernacular languages that were modelled on existing word-and-paradigm grammars
of Latin. European interest in vernacular grammar coincided with, and was
probably motivated by: * the rise of Protestantism and the consequent
translation of the Bible from Latin into vernacular languages; * the growth of
printing, which took book production out of monasteries and made books widely
accessible; and * concomitantly, the emergence of a nationalistic merchant
class. Nationalism is usually accompanied by exaggerated pride in the national
language: the language which is believed to best express the unique national
culture and ‘genius’ of the people. Hence, there is an interest in the purity
of the vernacular language expressed through prescriptions of ‘correct’ grammar
and usage which create doctrines that apply to a notional ‘standard language’.
In 1697 Daniel Defoe was moved to propose a ‘Society’ on the model of the
Académie Française: The Work of this Society shou’d be to encourage Polite
Learning, to polish and refine the English Tongue, and advance the so much
neglected Faculty of Correct Language, to establish Prescriptivism from the
early middle ages on 129 Purity and Propriety of Stile, and to purge it of all
the Irregular Additions that Ignorance and Affectation have introduc’d; and all
those Innovations in Speech, if I may call them such, which some Dogmatic
Writers have the Confidence to foster upon their Native Language, as if their
Authority were sufficient to make their own Fancy legitimate. (Of Academies,
Defoe 1697: 233) In this chapter we look at prescriptivism in eighteenth
century Britain as an offshoot, if not a continuation, of the prescriptivism of
school grammar in the early middle ages. Behind the prescription is the notion
of a standard for English – more accurately, as many notions of a standard as
there were grammarians, albeit with common threads.
Alongside the pedagogical
and prescriptive grammars, there was between the eleventh and the eighteenth
centuries a new interest in the theory of grammar, which we examine in Chapter
8. It had some effect on the pedagogical tradition, as we shall see, but it
focused on and philosophized about the essential nature of grammar. The
eighteenth century doctrines of ‘correctness’ in English usage continued to
affect the teaching of language throughout the nineteenth century and well into
the twentieth. Indeed, there are very similar notions of ‘correctness’ around
today. Figure 7.1. Europe in the early middle ages. 130 The Western Classical
Tradition in Linguistics The early middle ages They were called the ‘middle
ages’ by renaissance scholars who viewed the period between the flowering of
the classical world and the rebirth of learning in the fifteenth century as an
era of darkness and philistinism. It was a conservative epoch where rote
learning remained the norm; but it was not without innovators. The fall of Rome
to the Visigoth (German) invasion resulted in the loss of much classical
literature. The philosophical schools of Athens were closed by the Byzantine
Emperor Justinian I (ruled 527–65) in 529. The eastern Roman world, the
repository for ancient Greek works, was difficult to access from the west and
north; and by the late sixth century the Byzantine state was confronting many
of the same threats that had destroyed the western empire in the fifth century.
Barbarians pressed upon it from beyond the Balkan frontier while others manned
the armies defending it. Wealth accumulated during the fifth century had been
expended; and there were few native Romans living there. The Byzantine empire
avoided the fate of Rome by requiring its barbarian subjects to accept Orthodox
Christianity and the emperor’s authority. Christianity was a fragile veneer
that often cracked in moments of crisis, and loyalty to the emperor was often
forsworn. Nevertheless, the Christian faith and the ecclesiastical institutions
defined in the sixth century proved more cohesive and morale boosting than the
pagan culture of the western empire. Until the late eighth century, today’s
Romance languages were more regional dialects than distinct languages.
The
situation was probably similar amongst Germanic peoples; missionaries from
Anglo-Saxon England could readily communicate with Saxons and Austrasians in
the east of the Frankish Empire. As time passed, the Latin of antiquity ceased
to be anyone’s mother tongue. Where Donatus could assume that his readers were
familiar with Latin, the grammarians and commentators of the early middle ages
had to help those for whom it was a second or foreign language. Instead of
studying grammar to improve understanding and delivery of the classical Roman
texts, it was a case of studying Latin grammar in order to understand Christian
Scripture. The earliest Latin biblical texts were in vetus Latina “old Latin”
and not only gave many variant readings for the same source text but abounded
in solecisms and calques on Greek and Hebrew from the Septuagint.1 The new
translation in St Jerome’s Vulgate (382–405) quickly became the definitive
biblical text (we can ignore the fact that there was more than one version).
Throughout western and northern Europe a knowledge of Latin was needed to
understand Scripture and exegetical works, Church liturgy and ritual, or to
undertake ecclesiastical duties such as delivering a sermon. Latin was the
lingua franca of Europe. The grammatical works of Donatus and to a lesser
extent Priscian were studied, copied, commented on, and elaborated. The principal
innovation was the Christianizing of grammars. Classical Latin was written by
pagans, and many Churchmen believed that it could not be studied in detail
without barbarizing the 1. Supposedly the Hebrew Bible was translated into
Greek independently by 72 scholars in 72 days; and these holy men were so
inspired by God that their translations did not differ from one another by a
single word. In fact, the Septuagint was compiled at various periods between
the third and first centuries BCE. By Jewish and patristic tradition there were
(?coincidentally) 72 languages in the world. Prescriptivism from the early
middle ages on 131 student.
In any case, the Latin of the Church fathers was
more highly valued because it had God’s imprimatur. Pope Gregory the Great (590–610)
in his Epistola missoria ad Leandrum Hispalensem declared, ‘I deem it most
unworthy to restrict the words of the heavenly oracle under the rules of
Donatus.’ The ninth century French Abbot Smaragdus of St Mihiel-surMeuse (fl.
809–19) based his grammatical commentary on Donatus, but held the authority of
the Vulgate to be superior. In all these things we do not follow Donatus,
because we hold the authority of Divine Scripture to be greater. Indeed we do
not deny that cortex, silex, stirps and dies have common gender; however we are
taught by the authority of the Scriptures that radix, finex and pinus are of
feminine gender. (Smaragdus 1986 4T, 121–25)2 Names and notions were chosen
from Scripture and the Church milieu to replace those of pagan Rome. The
pedagogical method of Donatus and of Priscian’s De Nomine and Partitiones
(Priscian 1961a; b) was hijacked and Christianized as in the early eleventh
century Beatus Quid Est? “What is holiness?” (from England) with its uplifting
vocabulary. For instance, the lists of comparatives: castus [“chaste”], castior
[“more chaste”], castissimus [“most chaste”]; probus [“upright, worthy”],
probior, probissimus; iustus [“just”], iustior, iustissimus; sanctus [“sacred,
saintly”], sanctior, sanctissimus; doctus [“learned”], doctior, doctissimus;
beatus [“blessed, happy, holy”], beatior, beatissimus (Bayless 1993: 90). It
was generally accepted that the standard for grammars should be founded on
three criteria: * auctoritas – the authority of an accepted model (Virgil,
Horace, Plautus, Cicero, Varro, Donatus, Charisius, Priscian); auctoritas came
to be confused with vetustas “antiquity”; * ratio – rational explanation in a
systematic account consisting of definitions and rules (regulae, analogia); *
consuetudo or usus – contemporary usage. Of these criteria St Augustine
(354–430) judged ratio the least important (contrary to Apollonius) and
consuetudo the most important (Augustine 1861).
But St Isidore of Seville
(560–636) reveals a lack of confidence in consuetudo, an awareness that Vulgar
Latin was not like the classical Latin of the Roman republic or early empire,
but had become ‘corrupted’ by solecisms and barbarisms (Etymologies IX.i.6–8,
Isidore 1617; Brehaut 1912). That was one good reason for the heavy reliance on
old faithfuls like Donatus and Priscian (Priscian was accepted as a native
speaker of Latin despite his North African origin and relocation in Byzantium).
The works of these masters were reorganized and Christianized and commented
upon, but there was no significant advance in grammatical theorizing or
descriptive practices during the early middle ages. There was, however,
development of word-and-paradigm introductory school grammars (primers) that
virtually ignored syntax and established a pedagogical tradition that persisted
until the twentieth century. 2. See also 4T 146, 152; 8T 115–20; 9T 52–57; and
5T, 62–65, where Smaragdus favours the use of a singular for scala “ladder,
staircase” in Genesis against Donatus’ prescribed plural. 132 The Western Classical
Tradition in Linguistics Isidore of Seville, encyclopaedist Greek science had
fought against superstition and engaged in empirical observation and rational
interpretation of reality. In the early middle ages attention centred on the
spiritual world of neo-Platonist Christianity.3 For example, Isidore wrote
history and many theological works, including one on the canon law of the
Spanish church (Isidore 1862b); he wrote treatises on linguistics
(Differentiarum Libri “Books of differences”, Isidore 1862a), on natural
science and cosmology (De Ordine Creaturarum “On the order of creatures” and De
Natura Rerum “On the nature of things”), and on the mysticism of numbers (Liber
Numerorum, Isidore 1862c). Outstanding among Isidore’s literary production were
the 20 books of his Etymologiae (hereafter Etym.; Isidore 1850), which compiled
extracts from the works of previous encyclopaedists, specialists, and various
Latin writers as well as his own observations.
Almost 1,000 manuscripts of the
Etymologies are still in existence. Isidore fuses education in the seven
liberal arts with more general encyclopaedic data, using ideas from Aristotle
(though he had no Greek and had to rely on translations), Nicomachus of Gerasa
(numerologist, fl. 100), Porphyry, Varro, Cicero, Suetonius, Moses, St Paul,
Origen (theologian, 185–254), St Jerome, St Augustine, and Donatus. Isidore
plagiarizes Magnus Aurelius Cassiodorus (c. 490–585); especially De Artibus ac
Disciplinis Liberalum Litterarum (Cassiodorus 1865). From the time of Varro,
Latin scholars had preferred to summarize all knowledge rather than specialize.
Varro and Pliny the Elder (23–79 CE) cribbed from original texts; but the
encyclopaedists who followed them drew further and further away from primary
sources. There was little attempt to match reported statements with
observations of reality: what was significant was the authority of the source
and not pragmatic validation of its assertions. If there was ever a difference
of opinion, Isidore preferred the authority of the Bible or a Church father. He
confidently asserts that Origen, Jerome, and Augustine surpassed all pagan
authors in genius, wisdom, quality, and number of works (Etym. VI.vii.2–3).
Rather curiously, he says: We have God’s apostles as authorities. […]
And so
even if an angel from heaven shall preach otherwise, let him be anathema.4
(Etym. VIII.iii.3). Isidore asserts that ‘Hebrew is the mother of all languages
and alphabets’ (Etym. I.iii.4), sourcing this from St Jerome (Epistolae XXIX,
XXX in Jerome 1864: 441ff). The diversity of languages arose after the flood,
at the building of the tower [of Babel5 ]; for before that […] there was one
tongue for all peoples,6 which is called Hebrew. (Etym. IX.i.1) 3.
Neo-Platonism is an amalgamation of Plotinus’ (c. 205–70) interpretations of
Plato, Porphyry’s (c. 234–305) edition of Plotinus’ Enneads, the Septuagint,
Christian, Gnostic, and Jewish teachings. The Cosmos is the flawed expression
(presentation) of the Divine (Platonic) Idea. See http://www.iep.utm.edu/n/neoplato.htm.
4. Translations of Isidore are taken, sometimes slightly adapted, from Brehaut
1912. 5. Genesis 11: 4–9. 6. Genesis 11: 1. Prescriptivism from the early
middle ages on 133 Adam, of course, spoke Hebrew (Etym. XII.i.2). But it seems
that God speaks to a person in their own language, whatever it may be (Etym.
IX.i.11). There are three sacred languages, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin […] For it
was in these three languages that the charge against the Lord was written above
the cross by Pilate.7 (Etym. IX.i.3) The strength of Isidore’s beliefs in the
authority of the Bible and its disciples was typical of scholars in the period
between late antiquity and the renaissance – if not well into the nineteenth
century. Like many of his contemporaries Isidore was a mystic. He perceived
patterns and connections where we cannot. For instance, between the knees and
the eyes: [M]an in his beginning and first formation is so folded up that the
knees are above [against the eyes], and by these the eyes are shaped so that there
are deep hollows. […] Thence it is that when men fall on their knees they at
once begin to weep. For nature has so willed that they remember their mother’s
womb where they sat in darkness, as it were, until they should come to the
light. (Etym. XI.i.109) And there was the magical number 22: [I]n the beginning
God made twenty-two works. […]
And there are twenty-two generations from Adam
to Jacob, from whose seed sprang all the people of Israel, and twenty-two books
of the Old Testament as far as Esther, and twenty-two letters of the [Biblical
Hebrew] alphabet out of which the doctrine of the divine law is composed.
(Etym. XVI.xxvi.10, see also I.iii.4 and VI.i.3) The Jewish historian, Flavius
Josephus, wrote (c. 90 CE) that Jews recognized 22 books (Josephus 1737); today
Jews recognize 24 books. St Augustine followed the Septuagint and listed 44
books. There are 27 letters in Modern Hebrew. Isidore’s approach to etymology
is also mystical: ‘His idea was that the road to knowledge was by way of words,
and further, that they were to be elucidated by reference to their origin
rather than to the things they stood for’ (Brehaut 1912: 33). In other words,
Isidore made no distinction between natural and philological sciences; he was
an out-and-out ‘naturalist’. A knowledge of etymology is often necessary in
interpretation, for, when you see whence a name has come, you grasp its force
more quickly. For every consideration of a thing is clearer when its etymology
is known. Etymologies are given in accordance with cause, as reges from regere
[“to rule”], that is recte agere [“do what is right”]; or origin, as homo
[“man”] because he is from humus [“earth”]; or from contraries, as lutum
[“mud”] from lavare [“to wash”] – since mud is not clean – and lucus [“sacred
grove”], because being shady it has parum luceat [“little light”]. (Etym.
I.xxix.2, 3; cf. I.xxxvii.24) 7. Cf. John 19: 19–20. The titulus crucis in
Hebrew was ??????? ??? ?????? ??? YESHU HANOTZRI MELECH HAYEHUDIM (reordered
from the right-to-left Hebrew script); the Greek was ?????? ? ????????? ?
???????? ??? ???????? and in Latin IESUS NAZARENUS REX IUDAEORUM (whence INRI).
All of these would have been in scripta continua. The three languages are
vouched for in Luke 23: 38, but the wording is different: ‘This is the King of
the Jews’. Matthew 27: 37 and Mark 15: 27 don’t mention the three languages,
and the wording is different in each, though all gospels report ‘King of the
Jews’. 134 The Western Classical Tradition in Linguistics Ossa [“bones”] are
named from ustus [“burned”], because they were burned by the ancients, or as
others think, from os [“the mouth”], because there they are visible [teeth],
for everywhere else they are covered and concealed by the skin and flesh.
(Etym. XI.i.86) Apes [“bees”] are so called because they hold to one another by
the feet [pes “foot”], or it may be because they are born without feet. […] In
a correct sense apes are so called because they spring from boves [cattle] as
hornets from horses, drones from mules, wasps from asses. (Etym. XII.viii.1, 2)
There is, of course, the medieval belief that the Earth is at the centre of the
universe. The earth is placed in the middle region of the universe, being
situated like a centre at an equal interval from all parts of heaven.
In the singular
number [orbem], it means the whole circle, in the plural [terrae] the separate
parts. And reason gives different names for it; for it is called terra for the
upper part where it suffers teritur [“erosion”]; humus from the lower and humid
part, as, for example, under the sea. Again, tellus, because tollimus [“we
take”] its fruits. It is also called ops [“power”] because it brings opulence.
It is likewise called arva [“ploughed”], from arando [“ploughing and
cultivating”]. (Etym. XIV.i.1) On the basis of a twenty-first century
understanding of the term etymology, most of Isidore’s etymologies are absurd.
However, as I said in Chapter 4 when discussing Varro’s etymologies, the
‘naturalist’-inspired understanding of the term in antiquity, which remained in
force throughout the middle ages and is still with us,8 would be better glossed
in today’s terms as “lexical semantics”. To be more precise, the aims of the
ancient and medieval etymologist were, mutatis mutandis, similar to those of
today’s students of lexicology in trying to map lexical relations in terms of
both morphological form and meaning. The assumptions and methods are very
different, but the aim is very similar. The modern understanding of etymology
is “tracing the diachronic development of a linguistic expression via the
changes in its meaning and form, identifying related expressions within the
same and other languages, and reconstructing the proto-item” – we might loosely
gloss this as word-history. This is just one specialized aspect of lexicology,
but for Plato, Varro, and Isidore (among many others) etymologia was the whole
of lexicology and more. Here are some more of Isidore’s etymologies. In the
first three he identifies correlations within a semantic field9 among words
that appear to be formally related and therefore might plausibly be recalled as
a group. Disciplina [“teaching”] takes its name from discendo [“learning”]:
hence it can also be called scientia [“knowledge”]. So scire [“to know”] is so
called from discere [“to learn”] because 8. Robert Southey (1774–1843)
suggested, perhaps not light-heartedly, that lass derives from alas, sighed at
the thought that the girl ‘would in time become a woman, – a woe to man!’
‘[B]ecause by woman was woe brought into the world’ (Southey 1834-47, 7: 76f);
but the OED entry 1.k for woman shows that many seriously derive the word from
woe to man.
The late twentieth century feminist neologism herstory,
dissimilating it from history, is based on false etymology. It is said that
male hysteria is an oxymoron because Greek hystera means “womb”. And so forth.
As Kate Burridge has pointed out to me (p.c.), these false etymologies
demonstrate a kind of prescriptivism. 9. The semantic field of a word is
determined from the conceptual field in which its denotatum occurs; it is
structured in such a way as to mirror the structure of the conceptual field.
See Chapter 13. Prescriptivism from the early middle ages on 135 none of us
knows unless he learns. Otherwise it is called disciplina because it is
discitur plena [“fully learned”]. (Etym. I.i.1) They are called litterae
[“letters”] almost like legiterae because they offer an iter [“path”] to the
legentibus [“readers”] or because they are in legendo iterentur [“repeated in
reading”]. (Etym. I.iii.3) The word princeps [“chief”] gets its meaning from
capiendi [“taking”] because he primus capiat [“takes the first place”] just as
municeps [“official”] from one who munia capiat [“undertakes public duties”].
(Etym. IX.iii.21) In the next three quotes Isidore is attempting to explain the
meanings of oratio, articuli, and verbum also by identifying correlations
within a semantic field. Oratio [“sentence, utterance”] is almost oris ratio
[“reason of the mouth”]. (Etym. I.v.3] Articuli [“articles”] are so called
because they artantur [“are pressed together with”] nouns. (Etym. I.viii.4)
Verbum [“word, verb”] is so called because the verberato [“vibrating”] air
resounds, or because this part of speech versetur [“is used”] frequently.
(Etym. I.9.1)
Etymologia included finessing the original forms and meanings of
words in what would today be called the proto-language; it included word
history, but it was a wider concern with relationships among the vocabulary
items in the language with the focus being always on nouns or names (since
????? and nomen mean both “name” and “noun”). We would today include part of
this enterprise under morphological analysis,10 but for the ancients it had a
semantic aspect that makes a term like lexical relations more appropriate. The
relationships identified are often mistaken, but the meaning of etymologia is,
nonetheless, “lexicology” or “lexical relations” and occasionally “lexical
semantics”, rather than what we today call etymology. Isidore is a prime
example of scholarship in the early middle ages: existing knowledge was not
extended, but compiled and rearranged. As Brehaut 1912: 32 says of Isidore’s
endeavour: ‘Secular knowledge had suffered so much from attrition and decay
that it could now be summarized in its entirety by one man.’ We are sometimes
struck by the absurdity of his claims and his gullibility; here is just one
example: The Blemmyes, born in Libya, are believed to be headless trunks,
having mouth and eyes in the breast; others are born without necks, with eyes
in their shoulders. (Etym. XI.iii.17) Perhaps the most perceptive remark that
Isidore made on linguistics is the unoriginal ‘Grammar is the science of
speaking correctly, and is the source and foundation of literature [liberalium
litterarum]’ (Etym. I.v.1). 10. In each of Ann Fisher’s A New Grammar (Fisher
1753) and Lindley Murray’s English Grammar, discussed later, one of the four
sections was ‘Etymology’, which ‘treats of the different sorts of words, their
derivation, and the various modifications by which the sense of a primitive
word is diversified’ (Murray 1795: 19). What they in fact did in this section
was discuss the parts of speech and their various subcategories in a
word-and-paradigm grammar that might today also be called morphology. 136 The
Western Classical Tradition in Linguistics The insular grammarians Although
Isidore thought Britain ‘beyond the circle of lands’ and ‘that the Britons were
socalled according to the Latin because they are bruti [“stupid”]’ (Etym.
IX.ii.102),11 the most influential grammarians of the early middle ages were of
British or Irish origin: ‘It was on the Continent that almost all the Insular
grammars were studied and copied’ (Law 1982: 98).12
In Ireland, Latin
scholarship combined with bardic tradition to produce the medieval bardic
tracts such as the Auraicept na n-Éces “The scholar’s primer”, part of which
dates to the seventh century and is the oldest study of a west European
vernacular. Ireland was in the forefront of Christian civilization until the
Scandinavian invasions of the ninth century. The scotti peregrini, wandering
Irish scholars, were influential throughout Britain and the rest of Europe;
some, such as Anonymus ad Cuimnanum,13 Sedulius Scottus and Johannes Scottus
Eriugena were grammarians or commentators on grammar. Viking raids in the late
eighth and ninth centuries in Northumbria, East Anglia, Kent, and Wessex led to
many Danes settling in England; Norse kings reigned intermittently in York
until 954. King Alfred, who kept the Norsemen in check, saw the Viking menace
as God’s punishment; so he encouraged a return to Latin learning to strengthen
the Church while at the same time championing literacy in Anglo-Saxon. Few in
Anglo-Saxon Britain knew much Latin until after 669, when the learned monks
Theodore and Hadrian arrived to re-establish Latin scholarship. Only Donatus’
Artes, Priscian’s Institutio de Nomine (hereafter, De Nomine), and the first
book of Isidore’s Etym. were widely known in Britain before the carolingian
renaissance of the late eighth century. Aldhelm and Virgilius Maro, both
possibly British, knew Priscian’s Institutiones Grammaticae. St Aldhelm of
Malmesbury (c. 639–709), who claimed to have been instructed by Hadrian, wrote
on Latin metrics but not grammar. ‘Aldhelm’s works are notorious for their
highly elaborate, syntactically complex and lexically recherché Latinity’ (Law
1997: 190); they were influential in eighth century England. Virgilius Maro
(Law 1995b) was a seventh century parodist who invented novel ‘Latin’ words and
created a mythical set of grammarians.14 He was an original thinker and much
quoted as a serious grammarian, though today it is difficult to see him as
that. Undoubtedly British were Tatwine, Boniface, and Alcuin. St Tatwine (d.
734 when Archbishop of Canterbury) wrote the Ars Tatuini (Tatwine 1968),
probably before 700, when teaching at the monastery at Breedon-on-the-Hill,
Leicestershire.
The detailed elementary grammar (primer) is based on Donatus’
Artes. Donatus offers only a very incomplete account of Latin inflectional
morphology, but it was sufficient for his native-Latin-speaking audience. He
used one third conjugation verb legere 11. According to Hiob Ludolf in a letter
to Leibniz c. 1700, Britannia and Britain derive from Bretanae “region of tin”
(Waterman 1978: 27). 12. This chapter owes a lot to the scholarship of Vivien
Law. 13. Anonymus ad Cuimnanum 1992 has Hibernian properties and is addressed
to an Irishman. 14. Virgilius’ writing makes one think of James Joyce and
J.R.R. Tolkein. He had a very patristic notion of derivation starting with
masculine nouns, e.g. glorificatio “glorification” ? glorifico ?
“glorify.1.SG”; gloria “glory” ? gloriosus–a–um “glorious” (Amsler 1989: 202).
Prescriptivism from the early middle ages on 137 to demonstrate the terminology
applicable to describing its various forms; gender, though not declension, is
covered by the five nouns magister (“master”, M), musa (“muse”, F), scamnum
(“bench”, N) sacerdos (“priest(ess)”, M or F) and felix (“happy”, M or F or N).
No verbs of the other conjugations or nouns of the fourth or fifth declensions
are described. The Constantinople-based Greek student of Priscian, Eutyches,
wrote the Ars de Verbo (Eutyches 1961), an alphabetically organized form-based
account of verbs which supplements Donatus. Priscian’s De Nomine identifies the
noun declensions and was the basis for many revisions of Donatus during the
early middle ages. Tatwine utilized Eutyches and Priscian while taking his
vocabulary from ecclesiastical literature; his other sources include Martianus
Capella (fifth century CE, Capella 1983), Isidore’s Etym. Book I, Pompeius
(Pompeius 1961, a fifth to sixth century North African commentator on Donatus),
and the Ars Asporii (Asporius 1961). The Ars Asporii, probably composed in Gaul
before 650, is a Christianized Donatus-based primer, with more numerous
paradigms and more copious examples than Donatus, but which shows no knowledge
of Priscian’s De Nomine, and does not identify declensions. The Ars Tatuini was
unknown to the west-countryman St Boniface (Uynfreth Bonifatius, 675–754) when
he wrote the Ars Bonifacii (Boniface 1980) at Nhutscelle (Nursling, Hampshire)
before he left on a mission to Germany in 716. Concerned with Latin accidence,
Boniface has one paradigm for each of the five declensions. He relies heavily
on (indeed, plagiarizes chunks of) the third to fourth century Greek
commentator Phocas’ form-based, alphabetically arranged Ars de Nomine et Uerbo
(Phocas 1961). The Ars Bonifacii is a good primer that pays more attention to
anomalies than other elementary grammars. Boniface’s Praefatio ad Sigibertum
“Preface to Sigeberht” gives a revealing account of his intentions,
assumptions, and procedures. I skimmed the works of a number of grammarians in
cursory examination and carefully assembled the rules that are the most useful
and essential in composition for each of the eight parts of speech. Where the
meaning I lit upon was somewhat shadowy, in matters dealt with cursorily by
only a few of the grammarians, I have expanded it by adding some long-pondered
words of explanation. […] When I noticed that the grammarians had set forth
conflicting rules, […] I thought it superfluous, even ridiculous, for me born
of ignoble stock amongst the remotest tribes of Germania to pop up like a
sheepish shepherd from behind a thorn bush or a clump of reeds and pronounce
judgment. [… I]n each rule I have opted to follow that one found in holy
treatises and in my daily reading to be the most often followed by the
ecclesiastical dogmatists. [… N]ot so much as a single twig of a rule is
grafted into this book without being firmly rooted in one of [Priscian,
Donatus, Probus, Audax, Velius Longus, Romanus, Flavianus, Eutyches, Victorinus
and Phocas]. [… O]nce you have scanned and understood all this [grammar], you
will be able to contemplate the pages of Holy Scripture all the more lucidly.
(Law 1997: 173f, slightly adapted) Boniface is acting as a ‘florilegist’ –
collecting together the best excerpts from his authorities. In fact, Boniface
did not use all the sources he claims to have used and he did use others
unmentioned.
The appeals to authority counter his being a non-native speaker of
138 The Western Classical Tradition in Linguistics Latin.15 Novelty is
perilous. He rephrases his borrowings and substitutes his own examples to
clarify the text. Following Charisius in Ars Grammatica (c. 350, Charisius
1964), he uses ordo for noun classes (declensions) and declinatio for case
inflection. His intended readership was monks and nuns with some knowledge of
Latin. Of course, he prefers the Latin of the Scriptures for his model, but
unlike Smaragdus (writing about 805) who, as we have seen, commented on
differences between grammarians’ prescriptions and Scripture, Boniface didn’t
use examples from biblical texts. Only five of Boniface’s sources were the same
as Tatwine’s: Donatus’ two Artes, Priscian’s De Nomine, Isidore’s Etym. Book I,
and Asporius. Boniface also uses Charisius, Phocas, Audax (late classical
period, Audax 1961), Diomedes (fourth century, Diomedes 1961), Sergius (Sergius
1961), Virgilius Maro, and Aldhelm. Alcuin or Alhwin (732–804) taught in his
native York before joining Charlemagne16 in 781 as palace educator and
librarian. He compiled the Epistula de Litteris Colendis (784–5) for
Charlemagne, prescribing intensive study of Latin language and literature for
all monastic and cathedral schools. In 796 he left the court in Aachen to
become Abbot of St Martin in Tours, where he developed cursive minuscule script
and promoted the illumination of manuscripts. Alcuin wrote treatises on
grammar, orthography, rhetoric, and dialectic. His definition of grammar is not
unlike that of Dionysius Thrax: ‘Grammar is knowledge of letters and knowledge
of correct speaking and writing’ (Alcuin 1995: 857D). He was the first to
exploit Priscian’s Institutiones Grammaticae (Minor) in his Dialogus Franconis
et Saxonis de Octo Partibus Orationis “Dialogue between a Frank and a Saxon
about the eight parts of speech” (Alcuin 1995), which presented grammatical
instruction in easily digestible question-and-answer form. FRANK: Don’t forget
that you said there were fifteen pronouns. Then why is it that Donatus included
quis [“who”], qualis [“what sort”], talis [“such”], quot [“how many”], tot [“so
many”], quotus [“what’s the number of”], totus [“all”] among the pronouns as
well? SAXON:
I remember saying that there were fifteen pronouns about which
there could be no doubt. As for the ones you mention, there is doubt as to
whether they are pronouns or nouns. Priscian, that ornament of Latin eloquence,
says that they are interrogative, relative or redditive [rejoinder] nouns and
says that they cannot be pronouns because they do not denote a definite person,
which is one of the properties of pronouns that have case. (Alcuin 1995: 873C,
see Law 1997: 137) Alcuin was a fulcrum for the so-called ‘carolingian
renaissance’ because the influence of insular grammars spread from
Charlemagne’s court. He trained the Italians Paulus Diaconus and Peter of Pisa
who wrote insular-type parsing grammars based on Donatus; they were
supplemented by paradigms from tracts such as Declinationes Nominum
(unpublished) which was probably composed in early eighth century Britain (and
often physically attached to the Ars Asporii). The Declinationes Nominum was a
collection of noun paradigms using 15. Although Boniface wrote Latin with
confidence, he spoke it with less confidence: when visiting the Pope in Rome he
sought a written instead of an oral interview (Law 1997: 196). 16. Charles I
(c. 742–814), King of the Franks and Lombards, and Holy Roman Emperor from 800.
Prescriptivism from the early middle ages on 139 Priscian’s system. Paradigms
were set out in running text to facilitate reading aloud. To save space any
part thought predictable was omitted as in (1), a truncated form of (2): (1)
hae uirtus tutis ti tem tus te tes tum bus tes tes bus [from a ninth century
MS, cited by Law 2003: 135] (2) haec virtus virtutis virtuti virtutem virtus
virtute virtutes virtutum virtutibus virtutes virtutes virtutibus Batches of
such paradigms were copied from work to work with additions and subtractions
resulting from scribal insights, error, preference, or whim; consequently, some
versions of the Declinationes Nominum have more subtypes within first and
second declensions than others. In one ninth century manuscript Jeudy finds
copying errors in a list of diphthongs where the scribe had replaced AU with
the word aut “or” (Jeudy 1993: 132).
He also wrote ‘Hoc habent infinita, ideo
non sunt aspirationes’ “Infinitives have this feature, and for this reason are
not aspirations/aspirated”, thus misquoting Priscian’s non sunt separanda “are
not to be separated [from verbs as parts of speech]” (ibid. 136; see also Law
1997: 21). Texts such as Iustitia Quid Est? “What is justice?” (Law 1982: 82),
the eighth century Quae Sunt Quae? “What’s what?” (ibid. 86), and the eleventh
century Beatus Quid Est? “What is holiness?” (Bayless 1993) present sets of
questions exhausting every aspect of concepts raised and the terms used when
discussing such words as beatus or iustitia; and they give model answers with
commentary. Ælfric of Eynsham Anglo-Saxon England was the first country in
Europe to develop and widely use a literary form of the vernacular, which it
did from the time of the Benedictine reform c. 960. AngloSaxon glosses of Latin
were common, but the structure of Old English was ignored. Literacy in Latin
was dismal by the time that Ælfric (955–1010) of Eynsham in Oxfordshire wrote
his grammar in the decade after 992. Ælfric’s Excerptiones de Arte Grammatica Anglice
(Ælfric 11th c. manuscript; 1880; Porter 2002) used the vernacular as a medium
for instruction, but in other respects it was a typical medieval elementary
grammar of Latin. [O]nce you have studied the eight word classes of Donatus’
grammar in this book you will be able to incorporate both languages, Latin and
English, into your tender minds until you arrive at more advanced studies.
(Quoted in Law 1997: 207) So it was not training in Latinity, but a means of
rendering Latin accessible to facilitate better understanding of the
Scriptures. Ælfric presents lots of vocabulary in his subjectbased Glossary
that was inspired by Isidore’s Etymologies. 17 [G]lossa, þæt is glesing, þonne
man glesð þa earfoðan word mid eðran ledene “Glossa when one glosses the difficult
words with easier words in Latin” (Quoted in Gneuss 1990: 18) 17. In Ælfric’s
Homilies we find an Isidore-type etymology: Godspell is witodlice Godes sylfes
lar “[the] gospel is certainly God’s own teaching” (Gneuss 1990: 25). 140 The
Western Classical Tradition in Linguistics
There was a conversation manual (the
Colloquium), but, surprisingly, no prosody. Moreover, there are few or no
insights into the grammar of either Latin or Old English. Latin definitions,
examples, and quotations are translated using local colour and religious
examples, for instance, uestri sutoris instrumenta – ?ower s?teres t?l “the
tools of your cobbler”; Eadgarus Aðelwoldus rex episcopus “King Edgar, Bishop
Athelwold”. Imperatiuus is beb?odendl?c, ac sw? ð?ah w? hit ?wendað oft t?
gebede. Miserere mei, deus miltsa m?, god. “The imperative is for commands, but
we use it often in praying: Have mercy on me, God.” (Quoted in Law 1997: 210)
And there is exemplification-cum-commentary in Old English: Gif ð? cwest n?:
hw? læ? rde ð?? Þonne cweðe ic: D?nst?n. Hw? h?dode ð?? H? m? h?dode. “If you
were to say Who taught you? I would say Dunstan. Who ordained you? He ordained
me.” (Law 1997: 208) The major source for Ælfric’s work is the extensive
Excerptiones de Prisciano “Selections from Priscian” (Porter 2002), which,
though structured on Donatus’ Ars Maior, takes its content from all of Donatus,
Priscian’s Institutiones Grammaticae, Partitiones, and De Accentibus, and
Isidore’s Etym. Book I. The Excerptiones clumps together material on the same
topic that Priscian had distributed among different books. It is not a
beginner’s grammar but serves as an introduction to or digest of Institutiones
Grammaticae. Table 7.1. Ælfric’s parts of speech. LATIN ANGLO-SAXON declinatio
nomen pronomen verbum adverbium participium coniunctio syllaba declinung,
gebigednyss nama naman speliend word wordes gefera dælnimend geþeodnys, feging
stæfgefeg Using loan-words, loan-formations, and semantic loans, Ælfric created
an Old English metalanguage; there is a sample in Table 7.1. Many of these
terms disappeared after the Norman Conquest. Ælfric expounds Latin morphology
where he sees the necessity. For instance, for the Latin ablative he gives
Preposition + Dative as the Old English equivalent.
He draws attention to
different gender assignments in the two languages (e.g. liber M, b?c F). He
notes that the six Latin words et, que, ac, ast, at, atque all translate Old
English and. He is thorough and not afraid to tackle difficult questions. ‘[In
Britain] Ælfric’s grammar completely displaced other grammars at the elementary
level soon after its appearance, and retained its dominating position into the
twelfth century’ (Law 1997: 215). Prescriptivism from the early middle ages on
141
The Anglo-Saxon grammar of Elizabeth Elstob Elizabeth Elstob (1683–1756)
was a pioneer in studies of Anglo-Saxon, and the first woman whose grammar has
survived (see above p.15).
Her Rudiments of Grammar for the EnglishSaxon Tongue
was based on ‘Ælfric’s Translation of Priscian’ and her grammar (Elstob 1715)
is therefore very much in the Western Classical Tradition, though its influence
was slight. On page 2 she distinguishes a linguistic sound, andgitfullic stemn
[andgitfullic stemn], from the non-linguistic sound that an animal makes,
gemencged stemn [gemencged stemn]. Then she turns to ‘letters’: A letter in
Saxon stæf [stæf], is the least part of any Book or Writing, and cannot be
divided. A Book or Writing may be divided into Words, S. cwydas [cwydas], those
Words into parts, S. dælas [dælas], those Parts into Syllables, S. stæf gefgas
[stæf gefgas], and afterward Syllables into stafas [stafas] Letters. Beyond
this there is no further Division. In each Letter may be consider’d, its Name,
S. Nama [nama], its Figure, or Shape, S. hiy [hiy], the same as our hue, its
Power, S. miht[miht], i.e. what Power Letters have being join’d together with
one another. (Elstob 1715: 2f) Elstob then discusses the five vowels, plus the
‘Greek’ vowel y ‘much used in Saxon’ (p. 3). The fricative consonants f, s, x,
together with liquids and nasals, she describes as ‘semivowels’; the grouping
may be partly explained by the fact that ‘the first six, ef, el, em, en, er,
es, begin with the Letter e’. Stop consonants except for k are, of course,
‘mutes’. K is grouped with h and z because they respectively have the names ka,
ha, za. Thorn (þ) and eth (ð) are not mentioned.
Sounds are combined into
syllables, syllables into words, and words into ‘speech or discourse’, but
Elstob does not say how these larger categories are constructed. Giving
Anglo-Saxon grammatical terminology throughout, Elstob identifies a traditional
eight parts of speech, the first four of which decline: noun, pronoun, verb,
participle, adverb, conjunction, preposition, and interjection. The noun has
six cases (p. 7f); three genders; singular, plural and, occasionally, dual
number. Following the Latin tradition of Ælfric, the article is included with
nouns instead of being separated out as it would be in a Greek grammar; seven
declensions are identified (pp. 10–12); simple and compound nouns are
exemplified; adjectives, ‘Names gefera’, are described (pp. 17–19). Pronouns
are subcategorized into singular, plural, and dual in the second person;
primitive, possessive, relative, and reflexive pronouns are distinguished, and
quantifiers such as some, a/one, all, along with cardinal numbers are included
in the pronoun category. The verb (word) is defined as ‘a Part of Speech, with
Time or Tense, and person, but without Case’ (p. 30; cf. Priscian 527 VIII.1,
quoted above p. 116). Subcategorizations include active, passive, and neuter
(intransitive); three tenses and six moods (indicative, imperative, optative,
potential, subjunctive, infinitive). Irregularity is illustrated (pp. 45–48).
The passive is discussed further in the section on participles (p. 43). The
adverb is ‘always joined with a Verb and has not its full Signification without
it’ (p. 49); Elstob lists 24 types. She also lists eight types of conjunction
(p. 52). As in her models, Ælfric and Priscian, Elstob distinguishes those
‘prepositions’ (foresetnysse) which govern cases and those which are ‘used in
142 The Western Classical Tradition in Linguistics composition’ that today we
call ‘prefixes’ (pp. 55f.). Finally she identifies eight classes of
interjections.
Under the heading ‘Of Syntax’ Elstob offers a brief discussion
‘Of the Construction and Ordering of NOUNS and VERBS’ (pp. 57–64) in phrases as
well as sentences. There follow short accounts of the dialects of Anglo-Saxon,
of Anglo-Saxon poetry, and an unsatisfactory mention of ‘accent’ (p. 69), which
is said to distinguish e.g. God from gód “good” and man (indefinite pronoun)
“one, people” from mán (neuter noun) “crime, sin” or (adjective) “bad, false”;
Elstob fails to say that the accent marks a long vowel in such monosyllables.
Elstob’s Rudiments of Grammar for the English-Saxon Tongue is at best a sketch
grammar in the tradition of Dionysius Thrax and Donatus rather than Priscian.
It is located in this chapter for that reason and because it was inspired by
Ælfric’s grammar, rather than because it is a prescriptive grammar.
Prescriptivism and standards in English grammar A descriptive grammar is one
which sets out to describe the structure of a language, whether this is as an
end itself or is to increase our knowledge of the language under description or
of natural language in general. But any grammar which sets out to teach a
language rather than to simply describe it must be prescriptive. Rules are
given, but there is no philosophizing about them. Most of the grammars written
early in the Classical Tradition had a primary pedagogical purpose. Dionysius
Thrax and Apollonius Dyscolus described and exemplified good Attic Greek
grammar and style for speakers of an Alexandrian koin?. Their Latin heirs,
Donatus and Priscian, described good classical Latin for speakers of Late Latin
or of Greek. Priscian created the prototype for parsing grammars in his
Partitiones and he suggested some neat ways for learning new constructions on
the basis of simpler constructions already known. Like their Alexandrian
forebears, Donatus and Priscian disparaged solecisms, metaplasms,18 tautology,
and verbosity. St Jerome’s Vulgate established Scripture as God’s own Latin,
and ipso facto the best model that there could ever be; throughout the early
middle ages and beyond, grammars in the Western Classical Tradition were
Christianized. Tatwine, Boniface, and Alcuin all wrote competent Christianized
Latin primers elaborating on Donatus’ Artes and Priscian’s De Nomine (plus, in
Alcuin’s case, Priscianus Minor), with assistance from intervening exegetical
works. In England, Ælfric of Eynsham’s Grammar and Colloquium were specifically
intended as practical manuals for the teaching of Latin to speakers of Old
English.
In 1199 the Doctrinale (Alexander de Villa Dei 1893), which rapidly
became popular all over Europe, used rhyme as a mnemonic to present a
simplified version of Priscian’s grammar in Latin hexameters for students from
non-Latin backgrounds who spoke laicae linguae. 19 The 18. A metaplasm is the
alteration of a word by epenthesis, deletion or transposition of letters.
Former U.S. President George W. Bush’s nukular/nucular is a metaplasm. 19.
Other versifiers include Alexander Neckham (d. 1217) in Corrogationes Promethei;
Eberhard Bethune’s Graecismus appeared about 1212; Ludolf of Luckowe’s Flores
Grammaticae Prescriptivism from the early middle ages on 143 teaching method
was similar to that of ancient Greece: starting with sounds, it moved on to
vocabulary, parts of speech, some dialectic, rhetoric, and models of good
writing; but all with a Christian motivation. Throughout, there was the heavy
reliance on memorization, which is a consistent feature of pedagogical grammar.
In 1540 William Lily (c. 1468–1522) wrote a grammar of Latin (Lily 1557; Lily
and Colet 1970) that was prescribed by Henry VIII in 1542 for use in English
schools. The ‘King’s grammar’ was traditional in favouring Virgil, Terence, and
Cicero as models of good Latin; but came to be severely criticized because the
rules for Latin were given in Latin rather than English. It was so well known
that Shakespeare could refer to it as ‘the grammar’ in Titus Andronicus IV.ii
when Chiron says, ‘O, ’tis a verse in Horace; I know it well: / I read it in
the grammar long ago’, and obliquely in Henry IV, Part 1, ‘Homo is a common
name to all men’ (Gadshill at the end of II.i.). English translations and
commentaries were added by a number of seventeenth and eighteenth century
grammarians. John Milton’s Latin grammar (Milton 1669) makes heavy use of it;
and there are many others, some listed below. The long titles are given in full
because they reveal the animosity and dogmatic self-confidence in the writer’s
own preferred standard of ‘correctness’ contrasted with the fallaciousness of
others.
The Royal grammar reformed into a more easie method for the better
understanding of the English, and a more speedy attainment of the Latin tongue
(Wheeler 1695) A Treatise of the Genders of Latin Nouns: by way of examination
of Lily’s Grammar rules, commonly called, Propria quae maribus; Being a
specimen of Grammatical commentaries, intended to be published by way of
subscription upon the whole grammar (Richard Johnson 1703) Grammatical
Commentaries: being an apparatus to a new national grammar; by way of
animadversion upon the falsities, obscurities, redundancies, and defects of
Lily’s system. Necessary for such as would attain to the Latin (Richard Johnson
1706) which provoked a counter-attack Nolumus Lilium Defamari: or, A Vindication
of the common Grammar, so far as it is misrepresented in the first Thirty
Animadversions contain’d in Mr. Johnson’s Grammatical Commentaries. With
remarks upon the same (Symes 1709) with a riposte Grammatical Commentaries:
being an apparatus to a new national grammar; by way of animadversion upon the
falsities, obscurities, redundancies, and defects of Lily’s system now in use.
In which also many errors of the most eminent grammarians, […] are corrected
[…]. With an alphabetical index (Richard Johnson 1718). Lily’s text was revised
in, e.g. A supplement to the English introduction of Lily’s Grammar: with
select rules of the genders of nouns and the heteroclites. The whole from
Lily’s Latin grammar, publish’d at Oxford. For the use of the school in Exon,
commonly call’d the Free-School (Lily 1719) appeared mid-thirteenth century;
John of Garland (d. c. 1272) wrote Compendium Grammatice and Clavis Compendii
(see Law 1997: 267). 144 The Western Classical Tradition in Linguistics Propria
Quae Maribus: quae genus, as in praesenti, syntaxis, qui mihi, construed.
Printed according to act of Parliament. Sold by all the booksellers in town and
country. (Lily, Robertson and Ward 1776) Lily’s grammar was in use for more
than three hundred years.
The eighteenth century grammarians of English were
mainly clergymen like the Reverend Dr Robert Lowth (1710–87), retired gentlemen
like Robert Baker (fl. 1770), and amateur philosophers like George Campbell
(1719–96). One wrote for the ‘Female Teacher in the British Dominions’ (preface
to Farro 1754: vii); some wrote for the improvement of persons in trade or
manufacturing; but ‘the majority of writers seem to have felt that they were
writing for the edification and use of gentlemen, to warn them against
inadvertent contamination with the language of the vulgar’ (Leonard 1929: 169):
Purity and Politness of Expression […] is the only external Distinction which
remains between a Gentleman and a Valet; a Lady and a Mantua-maker. (Withers
1789: 161) Although this classism was the norm, it was not universal. If a Man
were with a serious Countenance to ask a Servant-Wench, that is standing at a
Door, what a Noun Adjective is, and whether such a Verb governs a Dative or an
Accusative Case, she would conclude him to be out of his Senses; and would
perhaps run frightened into the House, and tell her Mistress that a Madman was
going to do her a Mischief. And yet this Wench, who never heard a Word of
Prepositions, Participles, Substantives and Verbs, makes use of all these Parts
of Speech (and, generally speaking, very properly) without knowing they have
any Names. (Baker 1770: v) The prevailing attitude of the eighteenth century
was put by Jonathan Swift (1667–1745) in A Proposal for Correcting, Improving,
and Ascertaining the English tongue. I do here, in the Name of all the Learned
and polite Persons of the Nation, complain [...] that our Language is extremely
imperfect; that its daily Improvements are by no means in proportion to its
daily Corruptions, that the Pretenders to polish and refine it, have chiefly
multiplied Abuses and Absurdities, and that in many instances, it offends
against every part of Grammar. (Swift 1712: 8) Dr Samuel Johnson (1709–84)
wrote in the Preface to his Dictionary: ‘I found our speech copious without order,
and energetic without rules’ (Johnson 1755).
Views like those of Swift and
Johnson led to an outflow of prescription for what was proper in English. Swift
gave as one reason for the inferiority of English that ‘the Latin tongue in its
purity was never in the Island’ (op.cit. 9). The supposed superiority of Latin
was a constant theme, though Greek was elevated to a higher position, with
Latin universally classified ‘a Species of Greek somewhat debased’ (James
Harris 1786: 148). Romance languages were vulgar corruptions of Latin; and
Germanic languages were barbaric to most except Elstob 1715. Buchanan 1767: ix,
finding errors in the work of Swift, Addison, and Pope, wrote ‘Had they not the
Rules of Latin Syntax to direct them?’ Lowth 1763: 42 (Lowth 1789: 47) wrote
that ‘the Double Superlative most highest is a Phrase peculiar to the Old
Vulgar Translation of the Psalms; where it acquires a singular propriety from
the Subject to which it is applied, the Supreme Being, who is higher than the
highest’; for which he was criticized by New York maths teacher Mennye 1785 on
the basis that the Latin translation ‘maxime altissimus would Prescriptivism
from the early middle ages on 145 be ridiculous’. George Harris 1753: 20f says
like ‘ought never to be used when it cannot be translated into Latin by the
Word Similis.’ There was, of course, a contrary view: I am not ignorant, that
the Practice may be supported by the Syntax of ancient Languages. But what have
we to do with foreign Idioms? It is Wisdom to enrich our Vocabulary with Words
from every Quarter of the Globe; but an Indignity to suffer any Nation to
controul our Style. (Withers 1789: 40f) It was rare for Latin to be rejected as
a model. Blair put a compromise position, which relied on general or universal
grammar (see Chapter 8): ‘All the rules of Latin syntax, it is true, cannot be
applied to our language. [… But] the chief and fundamental rules of syntax are
common’ (Blair 1783 I: 166f ). And Withers 1789: 150f notes that Latin
persecutio means “prosecution” and that prosecutio means “persecution”, so
recourse to Latin when seeking the meanings of English words can lead to
error.20 Noah Webster (1758–1843), favouring description over prescription,
recognized that grammars should show ‘what a language is – not, how it ought to
be’ (Webster 1789: 204ff) and is very modern when he writes ‘spoken language
[…] is the only true foundation of grammar’ (Webster 1798: 15f); nevertheless,
he appealed to Latin when discussing whether or not the preposition should
accompany the interrogative pronoun in wh- questions, and what form the wh-
word should take, and therefore was convinced that ‘whom do you speak to? is a
corruption’, preferring who (Webster 1789: 287).21 Appealing to reputable
literary authorities to set the standard was a problem. I have censured even
our best Penmen, where they have departed from what I conceive to be the Idiom
of the Tongue, or where I have thought they violate Grammar without necessity.
(Baker 1770: iv) The classical English authors were all criticized for
solecisms by some grammarian or other. Shakespeare, because of Ben Jonson’s
evaluation of his ‘little learning’, was expected to use vulgarisms. The
‘wrong’ use of prepositions even by Swift, Temple, Addison, and other writers
of the highest reputation; some of them, indeed, with such shameful impropriety
as one must think must shock every English ear, and almost induce the reader to
suppose the writers to be foreigners. (Baker 1770: 109) Lowth 1762: iii, among
others, later reported much the same. As we have seen, there was often acrimony
involved, since what was correct to one writer was incorrect to another. ‘Lowth
censures Addison for writing “as either of these two qualities are wanting.”
[…] Priestley censures, in Smollett’s Voltaire “The number of inhabitants were
not more than …”’ (Leonard 1929: 218, 220). Webster 1807: 16f accuses Dr
Johnson of using attain in the sense obtain. Johnson 1755 writes of flee ‘This
word is now almost universally written fly, 20. The lesson has some force, but
Withers is not altogether accurate: accusatio is more frequently “prosecution”,
and prosequor does not normally mean “persecute”; insectatio is “persecution”.
21. Murray 1795: 122 wrote, ‘the placing of the preposition before the relative
[pronoun] is more graceful, as well as more perspicuous, and agrees much better
with the solemn and elevated style’; but not in conversation or informal
writing. For more on preposition stranding see Yáñez-Bouza 2008. 146 The
Western Classical Tradition in Linguistics although properly to fly […] is to
move with wings and flee […] to run away.’ Lowth 1789: 118f objects In a few
instances the Active Present Participle hath been vulgarly used in a Passive
Sense: as beholding for beholden: owing for owen … “I would not be beholding to
fortune for any part of the victory.” And he says that, contrary to what was
often heard, whereas I mistake/am mistaking means “I misunderstand”, I am
mistaken means “I am misunderstood”. Baker 1770: 11 complains ‘To Demean
signifies to behave, to comport, and not to debase or lessen.’
Elsewhere he
prescribes ‘I get, go, or come up or down stairs; I am above or below stairs’
(ibid. 15). On p. 7f he favours different from over different to, though he
admits the latter is frequently used, even by ‘good Writers’; he did, however,
reject different than altogether. Many authors used you was for the singular,
but Lowth 1789: 55 dismisses it as ‘an enormous solecism’; Campbell 1776, I:
339ff says you was is colloquial, like there’s the books. Both these
expressions persist today and are condemned by purists – whose past strictures
have obviously been ineffective. There was much discussion of Mark 8: 27 (King
James version) Whom do men say that I am? The almost universal view was that
the translators erred: ‘Whom’ should be Who. 22 Murray 1795: 113, for instance,
points out that the interrogative pronoun is governed by ‘am’, not ‘say’, and
should agree in nominative case with I. A lot of the argument was concerned
with what are surely stylistic and dialect variations. Particularly blatant
examples of pure prejudiced personal preference are to be found in J. Johnson
1763: 19, who castigates as ‘Scotticisms’ a pretty enough girl instead of a
pretty girl enough; paper, pen and ink instead of pen, ink and paper; and
nothing else for no other thing. Baker 1770: 115 had written, ‘These seeming
Minuties are by no Means to be despised, since they contribute to the
Intelligibleness of Language’ – a valid point, but it does not apply to J.
Johnson’s reviled ‘Scotticisms’. Ann Fisher was ‘the first woman to produce a
grammar of English’ (Tieken-Boon van Ostade 2008a: 145f); moreover, as was
remarked in Chapter 1 (p. 16), her grammar was, deservedly, extremely popular
in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Fisher believed in a
universal grammar such that study of the grammar of any one language would
facilitate command of another (see Chapter 8 below). A Person therefore who
understands English grammatically, must be allowed to have good Notions of Grammar
in general; i.e. that of every other Nation, and consequently, if he endeavours
to learn any other Tongue, will, from this Analogy, find his Progress
surprisingly facilitated. (Fisher 1753: ii [sic]) [T]he Reason why those among
us, who have learned Latin, &c. are greater Adepts in our own Language than
those who have only learned English at Random, or ingrammatically, is entirely
from their Knowledge of Grammar in general; which they acquire by learning such
or such Languages by It: For though every Language has its peculiar Properties
or Idiotisms, the Nature of GRAMMAR is, in a great Measure, the same in all
Tongues. (ibid. iv [sic]) Q. Are the Parts of Speech the same in English as in
Latin? 22. As it is in other translations, see http://bible.cc/mark/8-27.htm.
Prescriptivism from the early middle ages on 147 A. Yes, and in all other
Languages as well as Latin: For that which is a Name, or Noun Substantive in
English, is a Noun Substantive in the Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, &c.
Languages. (ibid. 61) Fisher was convinced that English is at least the equal
of, if not superior to, any other language.
That the English Language is as
copious, significant and harmonious as any in the World, none pretend to
dispute. (ibid. ii) If to be Master of any Language, so as to write it with
Propriety and Exactness, is to understand it grammatically; it must certainly
be a nearer or more concise Way, to the Perfection of ours, to learn the
English Grammar itself, than to go about to study the Latin One, &c. merely
to come at the Knowledge of our own from the Nature of theirs. (ibid. v) As in
English we have but this one Case [the Genitive Case, or Possessive Name], we
express the Circumstances, Properties, or Affections of Things to one another
by the Help of little Words called Prepositions, such are of, to, with, from,
by, &c. whereby we are freed from the great Trouble that is found in other
Languages of expressing the Circumstances, &c. of Names in twelve Cases,
and five or six different Declensions: So likewise our having no difference of
Gender in our Names, is an Advantage as great as the former, and which no other
Language Antient or modern enjoys, except the Chinese. (ibid. 70) Fisher’s New
Grammar with Exercises of Bad English has four parts (i) Orthography, dealing
with spelling, syllabification, and punctuation; (ii) Prosody, pronunciation;
(iii) Etymology, parts of speech and their morphology (‘so very essential to
polite Writing, that I cannot think any one qualified to speak, write, or
compose with a happy Propriety, a Clearness, and Comprehensiveness of
Expression, who has not a thorough Knowledge of and Regard to it’ (ibid. x);
(iv) Syntax, ‘which shews how to connect Words aright in a Sentence, or
Sentences’ (title page). The method of instruction is question and answer, like
that of Donatus (see Chapter 5), e.g. Q. What is Grammar? A. Grammar is the Art
of expressing the Relation of Things in Construction, with due Accent in
speaking, and Orthography in Writing, according to the Custom of those whose
Language we learn. (Fisher 1753: 1) Part I on Orthography and Part II on
Prosody are thought to have been the particular interest and contribution of
Daniel Fisher in the first edition of the book;23 but if that was indeed so,
Ann Fisher must have been an apt pupil. In any case, it seems clear that these
two parts also owe a great debt to Thomas Dyche (d. c. 1733), see Dyche 1707.24
The section on Orthography deals with letters and their pronunciation in words.
Vowels and consonants are defined. Vowel length and its distribution in English
are discussed; there is no mention of the term monophthong, only of diphthongs
and triphthongs. The focus on written language is evident in that an ‘Improper
Diphthong’ is one like the eo in people pronounced as ‘e long’; puzzlingly,
another is the double aa in Aaron. Fisher deals with y and w as each being both
vowel and consonant; she examines some of the vagaries of English spelling with
23. See above p. 16. 24. The Fishers may have used the later 24th edition,
corrected, published in London by Richard Ware in 1737. 148 The Western
Classical Tradition in Linguistics respect to pronunciation, and gives the
correct pronunciation for borrowed Greek, Hebrew, Latin, and French words (pp.
14, 18, 24). Her description of syllables in English is thoughtful and apt; it
has rules of syllabification which include some remarks on derivational
morphology (p. 34) – which is also written of under Etymology in Part III.
Punctuation is discussed, which is beyond the interest of a linguistics student,
but not that of the English language student for whom this grammar is written.
In Part II Prosody is explained. Word stress distribution is examined in
polysyllabic words. The different stress marking of noun and verb in words like
accent, concert, desert, etc. are identified (e.g. áccent vs accént). A term
from Dyche 1707, Double Accent, is defined as follows: [T]he Use of [? the
Double Accent] is every where to denote, that the Letter which begins the
Syllable to which it is prefixed has a double Sound, one of which belongs to
the preceding Syllable: Thus the Words Ba?-lance, Cha?-pel, Mi?-stress,
A?-ni-mal, &c. are sounded with double Consonants; as, Bal-lance, Chap-pel,
Mis-stress, An-ni-mal. (Fisher 1753: 47) We see that pronunciation has changed
since the mid-eighteenth century; this is also evident for certain other
pronunciations given in Fisher’s phonetic spelling such as perfect (perfit),
perfected (perfited), Chorister (Quirister), Ribband (Ribbin) (ibid. 18f). Part
III is on Etymology ‘or, the kinds of words’. Etymology was not interpreted
like etymologia among the ancients and early medievals, but as morphology or
word-andparadigm grammar, as the term etymologia was used by the modistae in
the late middle ages (see Chapter 8). Part III deals with derivational
morphology and the four parts of speech: Names, ‘which express Things, or
Substances; Qualities, ‘which express the Manners, properties, or Affections of
Things’; Verbs, ‘which express the Actions, Passions, or Beings of Things’;
Particles ‘shew the Manner or Quality of Actions, Passions, or Beings, &c.’
Names are subcategorized into common, proper, and ‘Relative Names, or
Pronouns’. The latter are different from other Names in having a form for the
‘leading State’ (subject form, e.g. I) and ‘following State’ (oblique form,
me). Number, gender, and the genitive case are illustrated. Qualities
(adjectives) can be identified ‘By putting the Word Thing after them, which
they will bear with good Sense; as, a good Thing, … [A] Quality cannot clearly
signify any Thing, without a Name either expressed or understood; as, […]
refuse the evil (Thing) and chuse the good: Thing is, in both places,
understood’ (p. 71). What today would be called determiners are included among
Qualities; so too participles, as in a scolding Woman, a ruined Man. The Verb
‘is that Part of Speech which betokens the doing, being, or suffering of a
Thing; to which belongs the several Circumstances of Person, Number, and Time’
(pp. 79f). Auxiliaries are named ‘Helping Verbs’.
Four kinds of Particles are
identified: Adverbs, Conjunctions, Prepositions, and Interjections. In
traditional fashion Prepositions divide into those ‘set separate or before
other Parts [… or] joined or set in composition’ (p. 96), the latter being
prefixes. Discussing the derivation of words, conversion is described, e.g.
‘from a House comes the Verb to house (houze)’ and ‘almost every Verb has some
Name coming from it; and, by adding the Termination er to a Verb comes a Name,
signifying the Agent or Doer’ (p. 103). Many other derivations are also
identified. Because this is a pedagogical grammar there are parsing exercises
(e.g. p. 109). Prescriptivism from the early middle ages on 149 Part IV is
about Syntax, or Construction, ‘The right joining of Words in a Sentence, or
Sentences together’ (p. 112). Just ten rules of syntax are offered (pp.
113–17). Some perceived exceptions ‘being authorised by Custom, and not
reducible to Rule, may be called Anglicisms, viz. a few Days; many a Time; me
thinks; every ten Years; whilst the Book was a-printing; whilst the Stream was
a running, &c.’ (p. 121). Fisher discusses normal and unusual word order in
sentences with the urging to ‘follow the Use of the best Speakers and Writers’
(p. 123). Pp. 126ff offer many examples of bad English with correction
exercises; misspellings in these give some clue as to contemporary colloquial
pronunciation, for example ‘youmer’ for humour, ‘featers’ for features,
‘natral’ for natural, ‘pictors’ for pictures. Part of the advice on reading
aloud is that different meanings result from different sentence stress, e.g.
‘there may possibly be four different Senses, from the different placing of
Emphasis’ on Will you ride to the Town To-day and these are elaborated (p.
148). Fisher’s New Grammar is an excellent example of a pedagogical grammar of
English; if it makes no original contribution to grammatical theory, this is
typical of its genre.
She disagreed with the Dean of St Patrick’s and many
others that English was inferior to Latin and that it was intrinsically
imperfect; instead she dwelt on how proper instruction in English would
establish grammatical usage among its speakers and render the English language
as copious, significant and harmonious as any in the world. Lowth’s A Short
Introduction to English Grammar was also written in response to Swift. Like
Fisher, Lowth agreed that many people speak and write ungrammatically, but he
did not believe that English is by ‘nature irregular and capricious’ and he set
about describing for it ‘a System of rules’. His grammar has a very traditional
format, discussing in turn letters (and their pronunciation), syllables, words,
and nine parts of speech: article, noun, pronoun, adjective, verb, adverb,
preposition, conjunction, and interjection. His grammar also had sections on
sentences, punctuation, and gave exercises in parsing. The principal design of
a Grammar of any Language is to teach us to express ourselves with propriety in
that Language, and to be able to judge of every phrase and form of construction,
whether it be right or not. […] A good foundation in the General Principles of
Grammar is in the first place necessary for all those who are initiated in a
learned education; and for all others likewise who shall have occasion to
furnish themselves with the knowledge of modern languages. […] When [a person]
has a competent knowledge of the main principles, the common terms, the general
rules, the whole subject and business of Grammar, exemplified in his own
Language; he then will apply himself with great advantage to any foreign
language, whether ancient or modern. [… A] competent Grammatical knowledge of
our own Language is the true foundation upon which all Literature, properly so
called, ought to be raised. (Lowth 1762: x–xii) Lowth states that strong verbs
like write and ride should distinguish between past tense and past participle
forms, identifying what he regarded as ‘common mistakes’: He begun, for he
began; he run, for he ran; he drunk, for he drank: The Participle being used
instead of the Past Time. And much more frequently the Past Time instead of the
Participle: as, I had wrote, it was wrote, for I had written, it was written; I
have drank, for I have drunk; bore, for born; chose, for chosen; bid, for
bidden; got for gotten &c. This abuse has been long growing upon us, and is
continually making further incroachments. (Lowth 1762: 86–89) 150 The Western
Classical Tradition in Linguistics In his own private informal correspondence,
however, Lowth flouted this grammatical rule. In a letter to his wife we find
‘My Last was wrote in a great hurry’; and later in the same letter ‘whose faces
and names I have forgot’. We might accuse Lowth of hypocrisy because he was
willing to violate his own theoretical prescriptions when writing informally to
his wife or to close friends, but he took care not to make the same ‘mistakes’
in more formal letters (Tieken-Boon van Ostade 2002: 463–5). People have
confused past tense and past participle forms of strong verbs since the
beginning of the medieval period (Lass 1999: 166ff); language is not amenable
to being forced into a standard mould and anyone who attempts to do so will
find themselves bemired in contradiction. American-born Lindley Murray
(1745–1826) settled in England in 1784. His Grammar is very similar in design
to Lowth’s but is more comprehensive and better laid out, using bigger print
for more important points and numerous sets of rules and verb paradigms (a
teaching method indebted to Claude Lancelot’s instructional grammars of several
languages, e.g. Lancelot 1681; 1758 – the latter an English translation).
Murray’s book had four main sections. Orthography dealt with letters and their
pronunciation, syllables, and spelling.
As for Fisher 1753, ‘Etymology […]
treats of the different sorts of words [nine parts of speech], their
derivation, and the various modifications by which the sense of a primitive
word is diversified [by subcategories such as number, case, tense, mood]’
(Murray 1795: 19). His definitions of parts of speech are a mix of formal and
semantic criteria, for example, An article is a word prefixed to substantives,
to point them out and show how far their signification extends. [...] A
substantive or noun is the name of anything that exists or of which we have any
notion. It may in general be distinguished by taking an article before it or by
its making. (ibid. 41) [A] word which has the article before it, and the
possessive preposition of after it, must be a noun. (ibid. 117) Murray floats
the idea that there are as many cases in English as ‘the various combinations
of the article and different prepositions with the noun’ (ibid. 28), but he
doesn’t follow it up; however, he does see the need to exemplify English cases
via Latin: Nominative. MAGISTER, A master. Genitive. MAGISTRI, Of a master.
Dative. MAGISTRO, To a master. Accusative. MAGISTRUM, The master. Vocative.
MAGISTER, O master. Ablative. MAGISTRO, From or by a master. (ibid. 26) Murray
should have followed Fisher’s better example (see the quote p.147 above from
Fisher 1753: 70). Murray uses a transitive clause to identify ‘the objective
case’ (ibid. 29) ‘Syntax […] shews the agreement and right disposition of words
in a sentence’ (ibid. 86). He discusses the parts of speech in the sequence
article, noun, pronoun, adjective, verb, adverb, preposition, conjunction
(including here comparatives), and interjection. In the Stoic tradition he
claims that ‘Two negatives, in English, destroy one another, or are equivalent
to an affirmative’ (ibid. 121) but as Cameron so rightly says: Prescriptivism
from the early middle ages on 151 I have yet to meet any speaker of any variety
of English who on hearing Mick Jagger sing ‘I can’t get no satisfaction’ has
entertained for one moment the belief he means the opposite. (Cameron 1995:
25)25 The same was true in the eighteenth century.
Murray includes more parsing
exercises than Lowth. His discussion of prosody reviews ‘accent’ (stress),
‘quantity’ (syllable length), ‘emphasis’ (sentence stress), ‘cadence’
(downdrift intonation), feet in versification, and punctuation: The Comma
represents the shortest pause; the Semicolon, a pause double that of the comma;
the Colon, double that of the semicolon; and the Period, double that of the
colon. (Murray 1795: 159) It is a moot point whether this is accurate even for
texts read aloud; it certainly needs revising in terms of degree of
semantic-syntactic disjuncture for written texts. Murray is very modern in his
recommendations for the use of capital letters. The Grammar ends with an
Appendix containing Rules and Observations for promoting perspicuity and
accuracy in writing. This is a precursor to the Gricean maxims (Grice 1975) and
is closely modelled on John Hughes’ essay ‘Of Style’, written in 1698 and
circulated thereafter (Hughes 1915). Like Hughes, Murray favours ‘purity’
(avoid obsolete, new-coined, ungrammatical, or foreign expressions),
‘propriety’ (avoid violations of what would come to be called the manner
maxim), and ‘precision’ (choose the right expression and observe the quantity
maxim); sentences should be clear, relevant, and have internal unity. He
champions semantic extension and figurative usage because they ‘enrich language
[…] give us, frequently, a much clearer and more striking view of the principal
object’ (Murray 1795: 212) and because they are necessary: ‘No language is so
copious, as to have a separate word for every separate idea’ (ibid. 211).
Prescriptive he may have been, but there is much good sense in Murray 1795. In
a link back to the early middle ages, Holy Writ was his standard: In the course
of this work [his Grammar], some examples will appear of erroneous translations
from the Holy Scriptures, with respect to grammatical construction; but it may
be proper to remark, that not withstanding these verbal mistakes, the Bible,
for the size of it, is the most accurate grammatical composition which we have
in the English language. […] Dr Lowth […] says, “The present translation of the
Bible is the best standard of the English language.” (Murray 1795: 103) He
deliberately used uplifting examples such as Blot out all mine iniquities and
The man is happy who lives virtuously (p. 32); The scholars were attentive,
industrious, and obedient to their tutors; and by these means acquired
knowledge (p. 102). His Grammar was popular throughout the nineteenth century
and it was supplemented by exercises (Murray 1799). Aristotle’s observation
that language is conventional was generally accepted from his day on. John
Locke (1632–1704) in his Essay Concerning Humane Understanding had reiterated
the notion, disclaiming any inherent or necessary link between a word and its
denotatum (Locke 1700: III.ii.1). Locke was an empiricist – like his friends
and fellow members of the Royal Society, Robert Boyle and Isaac Newton. The
Essay was to be ‘a 25. As pointed out more prosaically in Chapter 4 the double
negative in English I cannot not go is synonymous with I must go, which
implies, but is not implied by, I can go. 152 The Western Classical Tradition
in Linguistics Survey of our own [human] Understandings, examine our own
Powers, and see to what Things they were adapted’ (ibid. I.i.7). ‘Ideas’
provide the mind with representations of objective qualities of objects (such
as size, shape, or weight) and also secondary qualities such as colour, taste,
or smell which are subjective (ibid. Book II). To understand thinking and
knowing one must understand language as the means of thought and communication
(Book III). Locke claimed that words only mean what they are understood to
mean; consequently, usage must be the sole arbiter. Words in their primary or
immediate Signification, stand for nothing, but the Ideas in the mind of him
that uses them. (ibid. III.ii.2) Linguistic forms represent the ideas of things
and not the things themselves (ibid. III.ii.5). Frequently, the idea signified
is not clear, and sometimes words are used even when there are no ideas
corresponding to them. This is particularly so in the case of generic terms and
universals. Locke suggests that such terms are nothing more than a creation of
the mind, through abstraction; they denote ‘nominal essences’.
He also
discusses definitions, and rejects the Aristotelian view that all definition
must be per genus et differentiam, saying that this only works so long as the
Idea behind a word is explained: For Definition being nothing but making
another understand by Words, what Idea, the term defined stands for, a
definition is best made by enumerating those simple Ideas that are combined in
the signification of the term Defined. (ibid. III.iii.10) Locke identifies
three criteria for efficient communication: First, To make known one Man’s
Thoughts or Ideas to another. Secondly, To do it with as much ease and
quickness, as is possible; and Thirdly, Thereby to convey the Knowledge of
Things. Language is either abused, or deficient, when it fails in any of these
Three. (ibid. III.x.23) Locke’s embrace of the criterion of usage was less
prestigious among the eighteenth century commentators on grammar than the views
of Horace and Quintilian. Horace wrote, c. 13 BCE, ‘the will of custom, in the
power of whose judgment is the law and the standard of language’ (Ars Poetica
71f, Horace 1928). Quintilian similarly: Usage, however, is the surest pilot in
speaking, and we should treat language as currency minted with the public
stamp. (Quintilian 1920-22, I.vi.1–3) [W]e must make up our minds what we mean
by usage. If it be defined merely as the practice of the majority, we shall
have a very dangerous rule affecting not merely style in language but life as
well, a far more serious matter. For where is so much good to be found that
what is right should please the majority? [...] I will therefore define usage
in speech as the agreed practice of the educated. (ibid. 43–45) Eighteenth
century grammarians would doubtless claim to be presenting ‘the agreed practice
of the educated’ in their works; but in fact there seems to have been more
dispute than consensus over what constitutes good usage: each grammarian
presented his own judgments which, as we have seen, often disagreed with those
of his fellows. Any appeal to good usage ought to describe what is meant by
such a phrase; and the better grammarians did so. For instance, George Campbell
in The Philosophy of Rhetoric identified it as ‘reputable, national, and
present’ (Leonard 1929: 148). By ‘reputable’ he means used at Court or found in
authors acknowledged by educated gentlemen (Campbell 1776, I: 351f). By
‘national’ he Prescriptivism from the early middle ages on 153 means neither
provincial nor foreign (ibid. 353).
By ‘present’ he means within the previous
century, though he apparently excludes examples of good usage from living
authors (ibid. 366). We have already seen that an appeal to the standards set
by authors of reputation was fraught with controversy over their perceived occasional
ungrammatical usage. Campbell’s canons of good usage (Leonard 1929: 154–60)
include: (a) unambiguous expression; (b) regular rather than irregular forms;
(c) simplicity rather than complexity; (d) euphony; (e) conformity with Latin
or Ancient Greek syntax; (f) avoiding solecisms, barbarisms, etc. (a), (c) and
(f) seem very reasonable by today’s standards. Even (d) is a reasonable
criterion for good style. But (e) we would now reject; the eighteenth century
views on the matter have already been discussed. (b) is a quaint preference for
‘analogy’ such as led George Harris 1753: 24 to be sad that the regularizations
knowed, falled, rised cannot be (re)introduced; in the light of (e), though, it
is doubtful whether Campbell would have approved such regularized plurals as
syllabuses and phenomenons. The rational justification for an appeal to the
classical languages as models for English grammar was a belief in ‘universal’
or ‘general’ grammar:26 ‘the chief and fundamental rules of syntax are common’
to all languages (Blair 1783, I: 166f ). All men, even the lowest, can speak
their Mother-tongue. Yet how many of this multitude can neither write, nor even
read? How many of those, who are thus far literate, know nothing of that
Grammar, which respects the Genius of their own Language? How few then must be
those, who know GRAMMAR UNIVERSAL; that Grammar, which without regarding the
several Idioms of particular Languages, only respects those Principles, that
are essential to them all. (James Harris 1786: 11) On the presumption that
so-called ‘modern’ languages are corruptions of the ancient languages, the
latter were supposedly closer to general grammar.
Harris used many Greek and
Latin examples. His universal grammar admitted parts of speech and other
syntactic phenomena from familiar languages but excluded the unfamiliar, such
as postpositions (which occur in, for example, Hungarian, Japanese, and
Turkish). He claimed that the sun and moon are naturally masculine and feminine
respectively – in defiance or ignorance of the Germanic and Slavic languages.
For such infelicities he was rightly condemned by John Horne Tooke 1786. Notice
the implicit assumption that the earliest language was closest to, if it did
not embody, general grammar. They [eighteenth century grammarians] built in
general upon the neo-Platonic notion of a divinely-instituted language,
perfectly mirroring actuality but debased by man, and they labored to restore
its pristine perfection. (Leonard 1929: 14) One pervading view was that grammar
mirrors nature: 26.
The term ‘general’ in general grammar derives from Latin
genus~generis; the unique aspects of grammars of particular languages manifest
species in their accidentia. The history and development of general grammar is
discussed in Chapter 8. 154 The Western Classical Tradition in Linguistics
THOSE PARTS OF SPEECH UNITE OF THEMSELVES IN GRAMMAR, WHOSE ORIGINAL ARCHETYPES
UNITE OF THEMSELVES IN NATURE. (Harris 1786: 263f [sic]) This is a hangover
from the speculative grammars of the late middle ages (discussed in Chapter 8).
Similar was Burnet 1773-92 Vol II: 343 and Withers 1789: 124 – who, in this
context, described Nature as ‘the Source of real Elegance’ and then explained
‘what are the Laws of Nature but the Operations of the Deity?’ (ibid. 185f).
Those eighteenth century grammarians who championed usage as a criterion of
grammaticality were usually contrasting it with a notion of general grammar.
This occurs, for example, in Campbell’s ridicule of Swift for thinking that
language could offend ‘against every part of Grammar’ (Swift 1712: 8, quoted
above p. 144). What could the Doctor’s notion of grammar be, when he expressed
himself in this manner? Some notion, possibly, he had of grammar in the
abstract, an universal archetype by which the particular grammars of all
different tongues ought to be regulated [...] I acknowledge myself to be
entirely ignorant of this universal grammar; nor can I form a conjecture where
its laws are to be learnt. [...] One thing indeed every smatterer in philosophy
will tell us, that there can be no natural connection between the sounds of any
language, and the things signified, or between the modes of inflection and
combination, and the relations they are intended to express. [...] If he meant
the English grammar, I would ask, whence has that grammar derived its laws? If
from general use (and I cannot conceive another origin), then it must be owned,
that there is a general use in that language as well as in others; and it were
absurd to accuse the language, which is purely what is conformable to general
use in speaking and writing, as offending against general use. But if he meant
to say, that there is no fixed, established, or general use in the language,
that it is quite irregular, [...] he ought to have said, that it is not
susceptible of grammar; which, by the way, would not have been true of English,
or indeed of any of the most uncultivated languages on the earth. (Campbell
1776, I: 342f, quoted in Leonard 1929: 149)
There was another view of language,
too, which stemmed from rationalist grammar (also discussed in Chapter 8). This
used the principle that language is conventional to argue for improving
language by rational means to modify linguistic conventions. It permits the
quibble that if a form or expression is logical, then it must be acceptable; if
it is illogical it is unacceptable. What was logical was general grammar,
which, as we have just seen, was perceived to be most closely represented by
the grammar of a classical language. A number of eighteenth century grammarians
appealed to the ‘genius’ of the language, e.g. Harris 1786: 11, quoted above,
and Johann Michaelis: Every one who is master of the language he speaks [...]
may form new words and form new phrases, provided they coincide with the genius
of the language. (Michaelis 1771: 79) The term genius of the language27 retains
some of the classical sense of genius as a tutelary god or controlling spirit
of the language which determines its distinctive character; but it had come to
mean what the native speaker of the language (perhaps only the educated
gentleman) intuitively finds correct (Leonard 1929: 29). Certainly, the
mystical quality of 27. The earliest reference I know of is Petit 1686: 116:
‘Les Romains entendoient leur langue avec la méme facilité que nous entendons
la nostre. Chaque nation a disposé la sienne selon son genie, sans songer si
l’on garderoit le mesme ordre dans les autres.’ Prescriptivism from the early
middle ages on 155 ‘genius’ comes out equivalent to a grammarian’s opinion of
what best matched the grammatical norms of the language. Thus, as the
grammarian established the grammar of the language, he concomitantly identified
the ‘genius’ of the language, to which he could then appeal when justifying his
pronouncements. There was, therefore, a vicious circularity. The eighteenth
century prescriptivists had very few new insights into linguistic analysis.
There were some, however. For instance, Hugh Blair, writing of the omission of
the relative pronoun (in such a phrase as the man I loved), notes, But though
this elliptical style be intelligible, and is allowable in conversation and
epistolary writing, yet, in all writing of a serious or dignified kind, it is
ungraceful.
There, the relative should always be inserted in its proper place,
and the construction filled up. (Blair 1783, I: 221f, 453) This shows a keen
awareness of the difference between language usage in the spoken and the
written medium – essentially a difference in the style of language used. On the
other hand, Withers 1789: 405 thinks that omission of the relative pronoun is
acceptable in writing. Fisher 1753 and Priestley 1761 noted that English has no
future (syntactic) tense, something that is not always recognized even today.
Much eighteenth century linguistic criticism was, however, oriented to matters
of style. John Hughes’ essay ‘Of Style, written at the Request of a Friend in
the Year MDCXCVIII’ (so, a little before the century began) has some ideas that
one may compare with one of Grice’s maxims of the cooperative principle (Grice
1975), namely, manner: All the Qualifications of good Style I think may be
reduced under these four Heads, Propriety, Perspicuity, Elegance, and Cadence:
And each of these except the last, has some relation to the Thoughts, as well
as to the Words. [...] There is another Particular which I shall mention here,
[...] and that is Purity, which I take more particularly to respect the
Language, as it is now spoke or written. (Hughes 1915: 80f) Blair (1793, I:
439) takes perspicuity to be ‘the fundamental quality of style’, with purity,
propriety, and precision as its subcategories. He says the necessity for
precision is ‘not only that every hearer may understand us, but that it shall
be impossible for him not to understand us’ (1793, I: 171). As noted already,
this was taken up by Murray 1795: 177ff. Most of the discussion on style in the
eighteenth century seems trivial to a modern linguist. The usual procedure was
to complain of lack of clarity, logicality, or propriety on grounds that are
almost invariably based on the personal belief and subjective judgment of the
grammarian. The emphasis was on the ‘correctness’ of each word, while clarity
or force in the communication of ideas was almost ignored. The concern with
‘correctness’ in English grammar and usage is still with us; there are
certainly displays of it within the community in letters to newspapers and
authors (such as Truss 2004; Watson 2003; 2004) who set themselves up to be
what Cameron 1995 calls ‘verbal hygienists’. Verbal hygienists include language
conservation groups, movements for plain language use and spelling reform,
those who take elocution lessons and ‘communication’ courses, editing language
to a house-style, guidelines for nondiscriminatory language, the mocking of
accents, and sanctions against swearing (Cameron 1995: 9). Most of these have
aims similar to those of the eighteenth century prescriptivists: 156 The
Western Classical Tradition in Linguistics to clean up and ‘correct’ the
language, and to teach youngsters what is deemed correct. There is even a moral
dimension: If you allow standards to slip to the stage where good English is no
better than bad English, where people turn up filthy at school [...] all these
things tend to cause people to have no standards at all, and once you lose
standards then there’s no imperative to stay out of crime. (Norman Tebbit MP,
on BBC Radio 4, 1985; quoted ibid. 94) Bad English is correlated with slovenly
unkempt appearance and criminal behaviour.
If children are drilled in
rule-governed grammar, the view held by people such as Tebbit is that they will
learn discipline and imbibe a respect for order, tradition, authority,
hierarchy, and rules (ibid. 95, 112). There is absolutely no experimental
foundation for the view that learning a language or any other rule-governed
intellectual behaviour (such as logic or mathematics) constrains subsequent
delinquent behaviour. And the everlasting problem of deciding what counts as
‘correct’ grammar persists. Today, as in all earlier times, the evaluation of
good and bad language rests in the eye, ear, and brain of the individual or
among the social group to which that individual belongs. We may be pleased that
the move to non-discriminatory language in the late twentieth century has been
remarkably successful; but most attempts to manipulate language usage fail.
Language is a social practice and changes will only be made when a particular
practice becomes a convention. Roughly speaking, a convention (Lewis 1969: 78)
is a regularity of behaviour to which, in a given situation, almost everyone
within a population conforms and expects almost everyone else to conform.
Moreover, almost everyone prefers this state of affairs to an alternative. This
is not to say that the convention is immutable: if people cease to conform to a
particular regularity and prefer to cease to conform to it, it will cease to
remain a convention; and if they gradually adopt another regularity in
behaviour, this will become a convention when almost everyone in the population
conforms to it and almost everyone prefers this state of affairs to the
alternative.
Even when language conventions such as forms of address are
imposed following a revolution, they do not succeed in being maintained unless
they are willingly accepted within a community – as French, Russian, and
Chinese revolutionary history has shown us. When language is being learned
there must be prescriptions about what is ‘correct’. ‘Standard English’ is the
written variety that is promoted in schools and academia, that is used in most
non-fiction books, law courts and government institutions. Students are
expected to use it in essays; and ESL instructors teach it to foreign learners
of English. Writers are supposed to acquire the standard rules and those who do
not are in danger of being regarded as recalcitrant, lazy, and incompetent;
they are said to have poor command of grammar. Standard English should properly
be referred to as the ‘standard dialect’ or ‘standard variety’. There is no
standard spoken-English: people reading speeches in Parliament or scripts in
media broadcasts read Standard English in the written text, but their spoken
delivery uses many accents. Once upon a time the most favoured accent was
spoken at Court; then it was the speech of the well-educated upper class,
so-called ‘received pronunciation’, the model for ‘BBC English’. Outside
Britain there were different accepted spoken varieties such as General
American. Although there are regional variations in written Standard English,
regional variation in spoken English is extensive and far more obvious.
Prescriptivism from the early middle ages on 157 There is a perception that
words need to appear in a dictionary before they count as words of the
language; hence the power of dictionaries like the Oxford English Dictionary
and Webster's Third New International Dictionary (Webster 2000 – the first
edition of which was Webster 1828).
When the project for the publication of a
New English Dictionary was proposed in 1857, the aim was to create a dictionary
that, based on ‘all English books’, was exhaustive and systematically traced
the historical development of the senses and uses of every word, ascertaining
its etymology within English and cognates in other languages (Philological
Society 1859). This Dictionary shall record, under certain limitations, the
existence of every word in the language for which sufficient authority, whether
printed or oral, can be adduced, shall investigate its history and derivation,
and shall determine, as far as possible, fully and precisely, its several
meanings and its appropriate usage, illustrated by quotations. (Philological
Society 1860: 3) The OED supplies a written standard for words (and many other
dictionaries are afforded a similar status within the community) but there is
no comparable institution for English grammar. Nonetheless, many people in the
community believe, as their forebears have believed, that lexicographers and
grammarians ought to fix the language. One slightly surprising hangover from
earlier times is that a study of Latin is supposed to be an aid to the command
of good English. The teaching of Latin in schools benefits the English both of
those pupils who study it, and those who do not. Standard English has been
formed through the centuries by its contact with Latin; and without some
knowledge of Latin an Englishman will always remain, to an extent, a stranger
to his own culture. [… The teaching of Latin] ensures a supply of English
teachers whose grasp of Latin will make their command of English and its
grammar firmer and more explicit. (Marenbon 1987: 38) This is pure prejudice.
What Marenbon says about the relation of Latin to English applies almost as
well to French and somewhat less well to Greek. Marenbon’s error probably
derives from the facts that * the amount of Latin most people learn is limited
in scope; * Latin is no longer anyone’s first language, and definitive rules
can be stated for it without there being a large number of speakers of the
language who blatantly violate the proposed rules; * starting with Donatus,
history has given us Latin grammars that are succinct. These conditions make
Latin appear to be a model of a neat rule-governed language that gives people
confidence in their command over its grammar. But such conditions simply will
not transfer to the everyday complexities and flexibility of a living language
like English. Prescriptive linguistics from the middle ages till modern times
The period from 550 to 1100, the early middle ages, did little to advance the
Western Classical Tradition in linguistics. Throughout the period the
pedagogical grammars of Donatus and Priscian were explicated and developed.
From the time of Charlemagne the 158 The Western Classical Tradition in
Linguistics teaching of Latin had to be adapted to the needs of speakers of
other languages. The result was a model for language teaching that
strait-jacketed school grammars of Latin and then grammars of vernacular
languages for more than a thousand years. The primers of the early middle ages
identify the eight parts of speech in the traditional sequence of nomen,
pronomen, verbum, adverbium, participium, coniunctio, praepositio, interiectio,
defining each and listing its accidents,28 each property being discussed in
turn. During the earliest period the heaviest reliance was on Donatus; but
after the carolingian renaissance this extended to Eutyches, Phocas, and
Priscian. It was during the early middle ages that Latin teaching was
Christianized and principally aimed at the advancement of religion. Throughout
that period those being educated in Latin would typically have a passive
knowledge of the language from church services, liturgy, hymns, and the Bible –
from which a familiar stock of examples were harvested. The Bible was revered
for deriving directly from God, which gave the Vulgate authority over
everything. The Latin of St Jerome and the other Church fathers was divinely
inspired and ipso facto superior to the Latin of any pagan writer. You might
think that the difference between classical Latin and Vulgate Latin would have
sparked off some interest in historical linguistics, but it didn’t; the early
middle ages were not an era of enquiry. To supplement the skeletal grammars of
Donatus, which were too underspecified for non-Latin speakers, reference
grammars expanding on Donatus and containing lists of paradigms began to be
circulated. Many of these are little more than fair copies of teachers’ notes;
they were typically less systematic and complete than primers and often limited
to noun and/or verb paradigms. Although orthography got some attention,
phonology and syntax were virtually ignored. The focus on word-and-paradigm
grammar stayed within the pedagogical arm of the Western Classical Tradition
until the twentieth century. Priscian’s parsing grammar, the Partitiones, was
not widely known until around 800, though it became a favoured teaching model
in the post-carolingian period. It was used as a means of instilling the parts
of speech and expanding vocabulary and what was then called etymologia –
lexical relations (or lexicology); the focus was on derivational rather than
inflectional morphology. The study of what we now call morphology was
restricted to rote-learned paradigms and no systematic account of Latin
accidence was developed. Parsing grammars offer scope for novelty as well as
for religious and moral instruction through the text chosen for parsing; they
are at the same time easier to update than the primers based on Donatus. The
carolingians returned to the pedagogical methods of antiquity in which
grammatical study was based on literary texts; but now it was principally the
Holy Scriptures and commentaries on them. In the late middle ages this gave way
to dialectic, though only at higher levels of study. From the late eighth
century, the insular teachers addressing speakers of Germanic or Celtic
languages were compiling form-based grammars. Eighth and ninth century Germany,
in the Frankish Empire, was Christianized by missionaries from England and
Ireland; it was 28. The references here and subsequently to accidentia,
accidentaliter, accidents, accidental mode, etc. have to do with secondary
grammatical categories typically expressed by inflections. Prescriptivism from
the early middle ages on 159 they and their students who preserved insular
grammars. A glimpse into the way in which manuscripts were spread is the
following: [T]he Ars Tatuini commenced its Continental transmission at a
Frankish centre, probably the palace-scriptorium, traveling outward in the
company of two different groups of texts, one including several Classical works
– Priscian’s Institutio de nomine, Servius’ De finalibus, and excerpts from
Charisius – and the other consisting of the early medieval grammars of
Augustine, Julian of Toledo and Paulus Diaconus. (Law 1982: 100) Although
Boniface was conscious of his obligations to English speaking students, it was
another 300 years until Ælfric used English as a medium of instruction. But
Ælfric did not go so far as to write a grammar of Anglo-Saxon despite the fact
that people already wrote the language and presumably must have been instructed
how to do so. Anglo-Saxon used as many as four letters not in the Latin
alphabet: wynn [w], thorn [?, ð], eth /ð/, and miniscule yogh , which in middle
English become [?, ?, j, ?]. Wynn and thorn are runic in origin and eth and
yogh come from Irish. So some training in orthography must have taken place,
but there is no record of grammar being taught. By the ninth century there was
already re-awakened interest in the rationale behind the parts of speech.
Parsing grammars were updated and new topics such as suppositum, appositum,
regimen, and constructio introduced. As we shall see in Chapter 8, this
movement flourished during the late middle ages in the era of speculative
grammars which re-established the theory of grammar in the Western Classical
Tradition. We skipped from the middle ages to post-renaissance England, where
the Western Classical Tradition is manifest in English grammars that were
closely modelled on traditional Latin grammars. There was a belief in the
‘genius’ of English which seems to correspond to what today we call ‘intuitions
about grammaticality and acceptability’. Although there was constant harping on
the purity of the language, there was a heavy reliance on the grammatical rules
found in (or assigned to) the classical languages of the Bible, but especially
Latin – which was better known than Greek or Hebrew. It was a view nourished by
the training that all grammarians had received when learning Latin in school,
but also from a notion that Latin is closer than English to the ‘general’ or
‘universal’ grammar common to all languages, and hence an excellent model for
‘correct’ grammar. Many seventeenth and eighteenth century grammarians believed
that general grammar must be logically structured and so they looked to logic
as the basis for ‘correct’ grammar. Others believed that language reflects
nature, and looked to relations in nature to explain grammatical relationships,
as the speculative grammarians had done in the late middle ages. Finally, there
was the criterion of ‘good usage’, that is, usage by a ‘reputable person’, an
educated gentleman,29 who spoke ‘pure’, i.e. not foreign or provincial,
English. This encouraged a subjective judgment that the grammarian’s own brand
of English was the correct one. It was the perfect environment for the
grammatical bigot. Nineteenth century and early twentieth century linguistics
castigated as unscientific the practices of eighteenth century prescriptivism
which earned so-called ‘traditional grammar’ a bad name. The very 29. There was
a similar criterion on the results of scientific experiments being validated by
gentlemen. See Shapin 1994. 160 The Western Classical Tradition in Linguistics
negative connotation of the word prescriptivism among linguists in the
twentieth century is the reason that Cameron 1995 referred instead to ‘verbal
hygiene’, which, despite her disclaimer, is just a euphemism for prescriptivism
(Allan and Burridge 2006, Ch.5). As I hope has been made clear in this chapter,
there is nothing wrong with prescriptivism in pedagogy; it is a legitimate arm
of the Western Classical Tradition in linguistics. Only when prescription aims
to clean up the language by subjugating the description of actual linguistic
practice to an imposed ‘corrected’ linguistic practice should it be reviled
like any other form of censorship.
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