Chapter II: Beginning of Nineteenth Century (2)

With regard to the vowels, Bopp in AC has the interesting theory that it is only through a defect in the alphabet that Sanskrit appears to have _a_ in so many places; he believes that the spoken language had often “the short Italian _e_ and _o_,” where _a_ was written. “If this was the case, we can give a reason why, in words common to the Sanskrit and Greek, the Indian _akāra_ [that is, short _a_] so often corresponds to ε and ο, as, for instance, _asti_, he is, ἐστί; _patis_, husband, πόσις; _ambaras_, sky, ὄμβρος, rain, etc.” Later, unfortunately, Bopp came under the influence of Grimm, who, as we saw, on speculative grounds admitted in the primitive language only the three vowels _a_, _i_, _u_, and Bopp and his followers went on believing that the Sanskrit _a_ represented the original state of language, until the discovery of the ‘palatal law’ (about 1880) showed (what Bopp’s occasional remark might otherwise easily have led up to, if he had not himself discarded it) that the Greek tripartition into _a_, _e_, _o_ represented really a more original state of things.

II.--§ 7. Bopp continued.

In a chapter on the roots in AC (not found in C), Bopp contrasts the structure of Semitic roots and of our own; in Semitic languages roots must consist of three letters, neither more nor less, and thus generally contain two syllables, while in Sanskrit, Greek, etc., the character of the root “is not to be determined by the number of letters, but by that of the syllables, of which they contain only one”; thus a root like _i_, ‘to go,’ would be unthinkable in Arabic. The consequence of this structure of the roots is that the inner changes which play such a large part in expressing grammatical modifications in Semitic languages must be much more restricted in our family of languages. These changes were what F. Schlegel termed flexions and what Bopp himself, two years before (C 7), had named “the truly organic way” of expressing relation and mentioned as a wonderful flexibility found in an extraordinary degree in Sanskrit, by the side of which composition with the verb ‘to be’ is found only occasionally. Now, however, in 1820, Bopp repudiates Schlegel’s and his own previous assumption that ‘flexion’ was characteristic of Sanskrit in contradistinction to other languages in which grammatical modifications were expressed by the addition of suffixes. On the contrary, while holding that both methods are employed in all languages, Chinese perhaps alone excepted, he now thinks that it is the suffix method which is prevalent in Sanskrit, and that “the only real inflexions ... possible in a language, whose elements are monosyllables, are the change of their vowels and the repetition of their radical consonants, otherwise called reduplication.” It will be seen that Bopp here avoids both the onesidedness found in Schlegel’s division of languages and the other onesidedness which we shall encounter in later theories, according to which _all_ grammatical elements are originally independent subordinate roots added to the main root.

In his _Vocalismus_ (1827, reprinted 1836) Bopp opposes Grimm’s theory that the changes for which Grimm had introduced the term _ablaut_ were due to psychological causes; in other words, possessed an inner meaning from the very outset. Bopp inclined to a mechanical explanation[7] and thought them dependent on the weight of the endings, as shown by the contrast between Sanskr. _vēda_, Goth. _vait_, Gr. _oîda_ and the plural, respectively _vidima_, _vitum_, _ídmen_. In this instance Bopp is in closer agreement than Grimm with the majority of younger scholars, who see in apophony (ablaut) an originally non-significant change brought about mechanically by phonetic conditions, though they do not find these in the ‘weight’ of the ending, but in the primeval accent: the accentuation of Sanskrit was not known to Bopp when he wrote his essay.

The personal endings of the verbs had already been identified with the corresponding pronouns by Scheidius (1790) and Rask (P 258); Bopp adopts the same view, only reproaching Scheidius for thinking exclusively of the nominative forms of the pronouns.

It thus appears that in his early work Bopp deals with a great many general problems, but his treatment is suggestive rather than exhaustive or decisive, for there are too many errors in details and his whole method is open to serious criticism. A modern reader is astonished to see the facility with which violent changes of sounds, omissions and transpositions of consonants, etc., are gratuitously accepted. Bopp never reflected as deeply as Rask did on what constitutes linguistic kinship, hence in C he accepts the common belief that Persian was related more closely to German than to Sanskrit, and in later life he tried to establish a relationship between the Malayo-Polynesian and the Indo-European languages. But in spite of all this it must be recognized that in his long laborious life he accomplished an enormous amount of highly meritorious work, not only in Sanskrit philology, but also in comparative grammar, in which he gradually freed himself of his worst methodical errors. He was constantly widening his range of vision, taking into consideration more and more cognate languages. The ingenious way in which he explained the curious Keltic shiftings in initial consonants (which had so puzzled Rask as to make him doubt of a connexion of these languages with our family, but which Bopp showed to be dependent on a lost final sound of the preceding word) definitely and irrefutably established the position of those languages. Among other things that might be credited to his genius, I shall select his explanation of the various declensional classes as determined by the final sound of the stem. But it is not part of my plan to go into many details; suffice it to say that Bopp’s great _Vergleichende grammatik_ served for long years as the best, or really the only, exposition of the new science, and vastly contributed not only to elucidate obscure points, but also to make comparative grammar as popular as it is possible for such a necessarily abstruse science to be.

In Bopp’s _Vergleichende grammatik_ (1. § 108) he gives his classification of languages in general. He rejects Fr. Schlegel’s bipartition, but his growing tendency to explain everything in Aryan grammar, even the inner changes of Sanskrit roots, by mechanical causes makes him modify A. W. Schlegel’s tripartition and place our family of languages with the second instead of the third class. His three classes are therefore as follows: I. Languages without roots proper and without the power of composition, and thus without organism or grammar; to this class belongs Chinese, in which most grammatical relations are only to be recognized by the position of the words. II. Languages with monosyllabic roots, capable of composition and acquiring their organism, their grammar, nearly exclusively in this way; the main principle of word formation is the connexion of verbal and pronominal roots. To this class belong the Indo-European languages, but also all languages not comprised under the first or the third class. III. Languages with disyllabic roots and three necessary consonants as sole bearers of the signification of the word. This class includes only the Semitic languages. Grammatical forms are here created not only by means of composition, as in the second class, but also by inner modification of the roots.

It will be seen that Bopp here expressly avoids both expressions ‘agglutination’ and ‘flexion,’ the former because it had been used of languages contrasted with Aryan, while Bopp wanted to show the essential identity of the two classes; the latter because it had been invested with much obscurity on account of Fr. Schlegel’s use of it to signify inner modification only. According to Schlegel, only such instances as English _drink_ / _drank_ / _drunk_ are pure flexion, while German _trink-e_ / _trank_ / _ge-trunk-en_, and still more Greek _leip-ō_ / _e-lip-on_ / _le-loip-a_, besides an element of ‘flexion’ contain also affixed elements. It is clear that no language can use ‘flexion’ (in Schlegel’s sense) exclusively, and consequently this cannot be made a principle on which to erect a classification of languages generally. Schlegel’s use of the term ‘flexion’ seems to have been dropped by all subsequent writers, who use it so as to include what is actually found in the grammar of such languages as Sanskrit and Greek, comprising under it inner and outer modifications, but of course not requiring both in the same form.

In view of the later development of our science, it is worthy of notice that neither in the brothers Schlegel nor in Bopp do we yet meet with the idea that the classes set up are not only a distribution of the languages found side by side in the world at this time, but also represent so many stages in historical development; indeed, Bopp’s definitions are framed so as positively to exclude any development from his Class II to Class III, as the character of the underlying roots is quite heterogeneous. On the other hand, Bopp’s tendency to explain Aryan endings from originally independent roots paved the way for the theory of isolation, agglutination and flexion as three successive stages of the same language.

In his first work (C 56) Bopp had already hinted that in the earliest period known to us languages had already outlived their most perfect state and were in a process of decay; and in his review of Grimm (1827) he repeats this: “We perceive them in a condition in which they may indeed be progressive syntactically, but have, as far as grammar is concerned, lost more or less of what belonged to the perfect structure, in which the separate members stand in exact relation to each other and in which everything derived has still a visible and unimpaired connexion with its source” (Voc. 2). We shall see kindred ideas in Humboldt and Schleicher.

To sum up: Bopp set about discovering the ultimate origin of flexional elements, but instead of that he discovered Comparative Grammar--“à peu près comme Christophe Colomb a découvert l’Amérique en cherchant la route des Indes,” as A. Meillet puts it (LI 413). A countryman of Rask may be forgiven for pushing the French scholar’s brilliant comparison still further: in the same way as Norsemen from Iceland had discovered America before Columbus, without imagining that they were finding the way to India, just so Rasmus Rask through his Icelandic studies had discovered Comparative Grammar before Bopp, without needing to take the circuitous route through Sanskrit.

II.--§ 8. Wilhelm von Humboldt.

This will be the proper place to mention one of the profoundest thinkers in the domain of linguistics, Wilhelm von Humboldt (1767-1835), who, while playing an important part in the political world, found time to study a great many languages and to think deeply on many problems connected with philology and ethnography.[8]

In numerous works, the most important of which, _Ueber die Kawisprache auf der Insel Jawa_, with the famous introduction “Ueber die Verschiedenheit des menschlichen Sprachbaues und ihren Einfluss auf die geistige Entwickelung des Menschengeschlechts,” was published posthumously in 1836-40, Humboldt developed his linguistic philosophy, of which it is not easy to give a succinct idea, as it is largely couched in a most abstruse style; it is not surprising that his admirer and follower, Heymann Steinthal, in a series of books, gave as many different interpretations of Humboldt’s thoughts, each purporting to be more correct than its predecessors. Still, I believe the following may be found to be a tolerably fair rendering of some of Humboldt’s ideas.

He rightly insists on the importance of seeing in language a continued activity. Language is not a substance or a finished work, but action (Sie selbst ist kein werk, _ergon_, sondern eine tätigkeit, _energeia_). Language therefore cannot be defined except genetically. It is the ever-repeated labour of the mind to utilize articulated sounds to express thoughts. Strictly speaking, this is a definition of each separate act of speech; but truly and essentially a language must be looked upon as the totality of such acts. For the words and rules, which according to our ordinary notions make up a language, exist really only in the act of connected speech. The breaking up of language into words and rules is nothing but a dead product of our bungling scientific analysis (Versch 41). Nothing in language is static, everything is dynamic. Language has nowhere any abiding place, not even in writing; its dead part must continually be re-created in the mind; in order to exist it must be spoken or understood, and so pass in its entirety into the subject (ib. 63).

Humboldt speaks continually of languages as more perfect or less perfect. Yet “no language should be condemned or depreciated, not even that of the most savage tribe, for each language is a picture of the original aptitude for language” (Versch 304). In another place he speaks about special excellencies even of languages that cannot in themselves be recognized as superlatively good instruments of thought. Undoubtedly Chinese of the old style carries with it an impressive dignity through the immediate succession of nothing but momentous notions; it acquires a simple greatness because it throws away all unnecessary accessory elements and thus, as it were, takes flight to pure thinking. Malay is rightly praised for its ease and the great simplicity of its constructions. The Semitic languages retain an admirable art in the nice discrimination of sense assigned to many shades of vowels. Basque possesses a particular vigour, dependent on the briefness and boldness of expression imparted by the structure of its words and by their combination. Delaware and other American languages express in one word a number of ideas for which we should require many words. The human mind is always capable of producing something admirable, however one-sided it may be; such special points decide nothing with regard to the rank of languages (Versch 189 f.). We have here, as indeed continually in Humboldt, a valuation of languages with many brilliant remarks, but on the whole we miss the concrete details abounding in Jenisch’s work. Humboldt, as it were, lifts us to a higher plane, where the air may be purer, but where it is also thinner and not seldom cloudier as well.

According to Humboldt, each separate language, even the most despised dialect, should be looked upon as an organic whole, different from all the rest and expressing the individuality of the people speaking it; it is characteristic of one nation’s psyche, and indicates the peculiar way in which that nation attempts to realize the ideal of speech. As a language is thus symbolic of the national character of those who speak it, very much in each language had its origin in a symbolic representation of the notion it stands for; there is a natural nexus between certain sounds and certain general ideas, and consequently we often find similar sounds used for the same, or nearly the same, idea in languages not otherwise related to one another.

Humboldt is opposed to the idea of ‘general’ or ‘universal’ grammar as understood in his time; instead of this purely deductive grammar he would found an inductive general grammar, based upon the comparison of the different ways in which the same grammatical notion was actually expressed in a variety of languages. He set the example in his paper on the Dual. His own studies covered a variety of languages; but his works do not give us many actual concrete facts from the languages he had studied; he was more interested in abstract reasonings on language in general than in details.

In an important paper, _Ueber das Entstehen der grammatischen Formen und ihren Einfluss auf die Ideenentwickelung_ (1822), he says that language at first denotes only objects, leaving it to the hearer to understand or guess at (hinzudenken) their connexion. By and by the word-order becomes fixed, and some words lose their independent use and sound, so that in the second stage we see grammatical relations denoted through word-order and through words vacillating between material and formal significations. Gradually these become affixes, but the connexion is not yet firm, the joints are still visible, the result being an aggregate, not yet a unit. Thus in the third stage we have something analogous to form, but not real form. This is achieved in the fourth stage, where the word is _one_, only modified in its grammatical relations through the flexional sound; each word belongs to one definite part of speech, and form-words have no longer any disturbing material signification, but are pure expressions of relation. Such words as Lat. _amavit_ and Greek _epoíēsas_ are truly grammatical forms in contradistinction to such combinations of words and syllables as are found in cruder languages, because we have here a fusion into one whole, which causes the signification of the parts to be forgotten and joins them firmly under one accent. Though Humboldt thus thinks flexion developed out of agglutination, he distinctly repudiates the idea of a gradual development and rather inclines to something like a sudden crystallization (see especially Steinthal’s ed., p. 585).

Humboldt’s position with regard to the classification of languages is interesting. In his works we continually meet with the terms agglutination[9] and flexion by the side of a new term, ‘incorporation.’ This he finds in full bloom in many American languages, such as Mexican, where the object may be inserted into the verbal form between the element indicating person and the root. Now, Humboldt says that besides Chinese, which has no grammatical form, there are three possible forms of languages, the flexional, the agglutinative and the incorporating, but he adds that all languages contain one or more of these forms (Versch 301). He tends to deny the existence of any exclusively agglutinative or exclusively flexional language, as the two principles are generally commingled (132). Flexion is the only method that gives to the word the true inner firmness and at the same time distributes the parts of the sentence according to the necessary interlacing of thoughts, and thus undoubtedly represents the pure principle of linguistic structure. Now, the question is, what language carries out this method in the most consistent way? True perfection may not be found in any one language: in the Semitic languages we find flexion in its most genuine shape, united with the most refined symbolism, only it is not pursued consistently in all parts of the language, but restricted by more or less accidental laws. On the other hand, in the Sanskritic languages the compact unity of every word saves flexion from any suspicion of agglutination; it pervades all parts of the language and rules it in the highest freedom (Versch 188). Compared with incorporation and with the method of loose juxtaposition without any real word-unity, flexion appears as an intuitive principle born of true linguistic genius (ib.). Between Sanskrit and Chinese, as the two opposed poles of linguistic structure, each of them perfect in the consistent following one principle, we may place all the remaining languages (ib. 326). But the languages called agglutinative have nothing in common except just the negative trait that they are neither isolating nor flexional. The structural diversities of human languages are so great that they make one despair of a fully comprehensive classification (ib. 330).

According to Humboldt, language is in continued development under the influence of the changing mental power of its speakers. In this development there are naturally two definite periods, one in which the creative instinct of speech is still growing and active, and another in which a seeming stagnation begins and then an appreciable decline of that creative instinct. Still, the period of decline may initiate new principles of life and new successful changes in a language (Versch 184). In the form-creating period nations are occupied more with the language than with its purpose, i.e. with what it is meant to signify. They struggle to express thought, and this craving in connexion with the inspiring feeling of success produces and sustains the creative power of language (ib. 191). In the second period we witness a wearing-off of the flexional forms. This is found less in languages reputed crude or rough than in refined ones. Language is exposed to the most violent changes when the human mind is most active, for then it considers too careful an observation of the modifications of sound as superfluous. To this may be added a want of perception of the poetic charm inherent in the sound. Thus it is the transition from a more sensuous to a more intellectual mood that works changes in a language. In other cases less noble causes are at work. Rougher organs and less sensitive ears are productive of indifference to the principle of harmony, and finally a prevalent practical trend may bring about abbreviations and omissions of all kinds in its contempt for everything that is not strictly necessary for the purpose of being understood. While in the first period the elements still recall their origin to man’s consciousness, there is an æsthetic pleasure in developing the instrument of mental activity; but in the second period language serves only the practical needs of life. In this way such a language as English may reduce its forms so as to resemble the structure of Chinese; but there will always remain traces of the old flexions; and English is no more incapable of high excellences than German (Versch 282-6). What these are Humboldt, however, does not tell us.

II.--§ 9. Grimm Once More.

Humboldt here foreshadowed and probably influenced ideas to which Jacob Grimm gave expression in two essays written in his old age and which it will be necessary here to touch upon. In the essay on the pedantry of the German language (_Ueber das pedantische in der deutschen sprache_, 1847), Grimm says that he has so often praised his mother-tongue that he has acquired the right once in a while to blame it. If pedantry had not existed already, Germans would have invented it; it is the shadowy side of one of their virtues, painstaking accuracy and loyalty. Grimm’s essay is an attempt at estimating a language, but on the whole it is less comprehensive and less deep than that of Jenisch. Grimm finds fault with such things as the ceremoniousness with which princes are spoken to and spoken of (_Durchlauchtigster_, _allerhöchstderselbe_), and the use of the pronoun _Sie_ in the third person plural in addressing a single person; he speaks of the clumsiness of the auxiliaries for the passive, the past and the future, and of the word-order which makes the Frenchman cry impatiently “J’attends le verbe.” He blames the use of capitals for substantives and other peculiarities of German spelling, but gives no general statement of the principles on which the comparative valuation of different languages should be based, though in many passages we see that he places the old stages of the language very much higher than the language of his own day.

The essay on the origin of language (1851) is much more important, and may be said to contain the mature expression of all Grimm’s thoughts on the philosophy of language. Unfortunately, much of it is couched in that high-flown poetical style which may be partly a consequence of Grimm’s having approached the exact study of language through the less exact studies of popular poetry and folklore; this style is not conducive to clear ideas, and therefore renders the task of the reporter very difficult indeed. Grimm at some length argues against the possibility of language having been either created by God when he created man or having been revealed by God to man after his creation. The very imperfections and changeability of language speak against its divine origin. Language as gradually developed must be the work of man himself, and therein is different from the immutable cries and songs of the lower creation. Nature and natural instinct have no history, but mankind has. Man and woman were created as grown-up and marriageable beings, and there must have been created at once more than one couple, for if there had been only one couple, there would have been the possibility that the one mother had borne only sons or only daughters, further procreation being thus rendered impossible (!), not to mention the moral objections to marriages between brother and sister. How these once created beings, human in every respect except in language, were able to begin talking and to find themselves understood, Grimm does not really tell us; he uses such expressions as ‘inventors’ of words, but apart from the symbolical value of some sounds, such as _l_ and _r_, he thinks that the connexion of word and sense was quite arbitrary. On the other hand, he can tell us a great deal about the first stage of human speech: it contained only the three vowels _a_, _i_, _u_, and only few consonant groups; every word was a monosyllable, and abstract notions were at first absent. The existence in all (?) old languages of masculine and feminine flexions must be due to the influence of women on the formation of language. Through the distinction of genders Grimm says that regularity and clearness were suddenly brought about in everything concerning the noun as by a most happy stroke of fortune. Endings to indicate person, number, tense and mood originated in added pronouns and auxiliary words, which at first were loosely joined to the root, but later coalesced with it. Besides, reduplication was used to indicate the past; and after the absorption of the reduplicational syllable the same effect was obtained in German through apophony. All nouns presuppose verbs, whose material sense was applied to the designation of things, as when G. _hahn_ (‘cock’) was thus called from an extinct verb _hanan_, corresponding to Lat. _canere_, ‘to sing.’

In what Grimm says about the development of language it is easy to trace the influence of Humboldt’s ideas, though they are worked out with great originality. He discerns three stages, the last two alone being accessible to us through historical documents. In the first period we have the creation and growing of roots and words, in the second the flourishing of a perfect flexion, and in the third a tendency to thoughts, which leads to the giving up of flexion as not yet (?) satisfactory. They may be compared to leaf, blossom and fruit, “the beauty of human speech did not bloom in its beginning, but in its middle period; its ripest fruits will not be gathered till some time in the future.” He thus sums up his theory of the three stages: “Language in its earliest form was melodious, but diffuse and straggling; in its middle form it was full of intense poetical vigour; in our own days it seeks to remedy the diminution of beauty by the harmony of the whole, and is more effective though it has inferior means.” In most places Grimm still speaks of the downward course of linguistic development; all the oldest languages of our family “show a rich, pleasant and admirable perfection of form, in which all material and spiritual elements have vividly interpenetrated each other,” while in the later developments of the same languages the inner power and subtlety of flexion has generally been given up and destroyed, though partly replaced by external means and auxiliary words. On the whole, then, the history of language discloses a descent from a period of perfection to a less perfect condition. This is the point of view that we meet with in nearly all linguists; but there is a new note when Grimm begins vaguely and dimly to see that the loss of flexional forms is sometimes compensated by other things that may be equally valuable or even more valuable; and he even, without elaborate arguments, contradicts his own main contention when he says that “human language is retrogressive only apparently and in particular points, but looked upon as a whole it is progressive, and its intrinsic force is continually increasing.” He instances the English language, which by sheer making havoc of all old phonetic laws and by the loss of all flexions has acquired a great force and power, such as is found perhaps in no other human language. Its wonderfully happy structure resulted from the marriage of the two noblest languages of Europe; therefore it was a fit vehicle for the greatest poet of modern times, and may justly claim the right to be called a world’s language; like the English people, it seems destined to reign in future even more than now in all parts of the earth. This enthusiastic panegyric forms a striking contrast to what the next great German scholar with whom we have to deal, Schleicher, says about the same language, which to him shows only “how rapidly the language of a nation important both in history and literature can decline” (II. 231).

FOOTNOTES:

[2] It dates back to Vulcanius, 1597; see Streitberg, IF 35. 182.

[3] I have given a life of Rask and an appraisement of his work in the small volume _Rasmus Rask_ (Copenhagen, Gyldendal, 1918). See also Vilh. Thomsen, _Samlede afhandlinger_, 1. 47 ff. and 125 ff. A good and full account of Rask’s work is found in Raumer, _Gesch._; cf. also Paul, _Gr._ Recent short appreciations of his genius may be read in Trombetti, _Come si fa la critica_, 1907, p. 41, Meillet, LI, p. 415, Hirt, Idg, pp. 74 and 578.

[4] Only in one subordinate point did Rask make a mistake (_b_ = _b_), which is all the more venial as there are extremely few examples of this sound. Bredsdorff (_Aarsagerne_, 1821, p. 21) evidently had the law from Rask, and gives it in the comprehensive formula which Paul (Gr. 1. 86) misses in Rask and gives as Grimm’s meritorious improvement on Rask. “The Germanic family has most often aspirates where Greek has tenues, tenues where it has mediæ, and again mediæ where it has aspirates, e.g. _fod_, Gr. _pous_; _horn_, Gr. _keras_; _þrír_, Gr. _treis_; _padde_, Gr. _batrakhos_; _kone_, Gr. _gunē_; _ti_, Gr. _deka_; _bærer_, Gr. _pherō_; _galde_, Gr. _kholē_; _dør_, Gr. _thura_.” To the word ‘horn’ was appended a foot-note to the effect that _h_ without doubt here originally was the German _ch_-sound. This was one year before Grimm stated his law!

[5] The muddling of the negatives is Grimm’s, not the translator’s.

[6] I am therefore surprised to find that in a recent article (_Am. Journ. of Philol._ 39. 415, 1918) Collitz praises Grimm’s view in preference to Rask’s because he saw “an inherent connexion between the various processes of the shifting,” which were “subdivisions of one great law in which the formula T:A:M may be used to illustrate the shifting (in a single language) of three different groups of consonants and the result of a double or threefold shifting (in three different languages) of a single group of consonants. This great law was unknown to Rask.” Collitz recognizes that “Grimm’s law will hold good only if we accept the term ‘aspirate’ in the broad sense in which it is employed by J. Grimm”--but ‘broad’ here means ‘wrong’ or ‘unscientific.’ There is no _kreislauf_ in the case of initial _k_ = _h_; only in a few of the nine series do we find three distinct stages (as in _tres_, _three_, _drei_); here we have in Danish three stages, of which the third is a reversal to the first (_tre_); in E. _mother_ we have five stages: _t_, _þ_, _ð_, _d_, (OE. _modor_) and again _ð_. Is there an “inherent connexion between the various processes of this shifting” too?

[7] Probably under the influence of Humboldt, who wrote to him (September 1826): “Absichtlich grammatisch ist gewiss kein vokalwechsel.”

[8] Humboldt’s relation to Bopp’s general ideas is worth studying; see his letters to Bopp, printed as Nachtrag to S. Lefman’s _Franz Bopp, sein leben und seine wissenschaft_ (Berlin, 1897). He is (p. 5) on the whole of Bopp’s opinion that flexions have arisen through agglutination of syllables, the independent meaning of which was lost; still, he is not certain that all flexion can be explained in that way, and especially doubts it in the case of ‘umlaut,’ under which term he here certainly includes ‘ablaut,’ as seen by his reference (p. 12) to Greek future _stalô_ from _stéllō_; he adds that “some flexions are at the same time so insignificant and so widely spread in languages that I should be inclined to call them original; for example, our _i_ of the dative and _m_ of the same case, both of which by their sharper sound seem intended to call attention to the peculiar nature of this case, which does not, like the other cases, denote a simple, but a double relation” (repeated p. 10). Humboldt doubts Bopp’s identification of the temporal augment with the _a_ privativum. He says (p. 14) that cases often originate from prepositions, as in American languages and in Basque, and that he has always explained our genitive, as in G. _manne-s_, as a remnant of _aus_. This is evidently wrong, as the _s_ of _aus_ is a special High German development from _t_, while the _s_ of the genitive is also found in languages which do not share in this development of _t_. But the remark is interesting because, apart from the historical proof to the contrary which we happen to possess in this case, the derivation is no whit worse than many of the explanations resorted to by adherents of the agglutinative theory. But Humboldt goes on to say that in Greek and Latin he is not prepared to maintain that one single case is to be explained in this way. Humboldt probably had some influence on Bopp’s view of the weak preterit, for he is skeptical with regard to the _did_ explanation and inclines to connect the ending with the participle in _t_.

[9] Humboldt seems to be the inventor of this term (1821; see Streitberg, IF 35. 191).