cratylus-第16节

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created　or　modified　it。



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

human　mind。



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

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

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

possibility　of　determining。　　But　we　may　reasonably　conjecture　that　there

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

together。



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

not　however　really　exceptions；　but　contain　in　themselves　indications　of

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

perfected；　though　in　no　language　did　they　completely　perfect　themselves；

because　for　some　unknown　reason　the　motive　powers　of　languages　seem　to　have

ceased　when　they　were　on　the　eve　of　completion：　　they　became　fixed　or

crystallized　in　an　imperfect　form　either　from　the　influence　of　writing　and

literature；　or　because　no　further　differentiation　of　them　was　required　for

the　intelligibility　of　language。　　So　not　without　admixture　and　confusion

and　displacement　and　contamination　of　sounds　and　the　meanings　of　words；　a

lower　stage　of　language　passes　into　a　higher。　　Thus　far　we　can　see　and　no

further。　　When　we　ask　the　reason　why　this　principle　of　analogy　prevails　in

all　the　vast　domain　of　language；　there　is　no　answer　to　the　question；　or　no

other　answer　but　this；　that　there　are　innumerable　ways　in　which；　like

number；　analogy　permeates；　not　only　language；　but　the　whole　world；　both

visible　and　intellectual。　　We　know　from　experience　that　it　does　not　（a）

arise　from　any　conscious　act　of　reflection　that　the　accusative　of　a　Latin

noun　in　'us'　should　end　in　'um；'　nor　（b）　from　any　necessity　of　being

understood；much　less　articulation　would　suffice　for　this；　nor　（c）　from

greater　convenience　or　expressiveness　of　particular　sounds。　　Such　notions

were　certainly　far　enough　away　from　the　mind　of　primitive　man。　　We　may

speak　of　a　latent　instinct；　of　a　survival　of　the　fittest；　easiest；　most

euphonic；　most　economical　of　breath；　in　the　case　of　one　of　two　competing

sounds；　but　these　expressions　do　not　add　anything　to　our　knowledge。　　We　may

try　to　grasp　the　infinity　of　language　either　under　the　figure　of　a

limitless　plain　divided　into　countries　and　districts　by　natural　boundaries；

or　of　a　vast　river　eternally　flowing　whose　origin　is　concealed　from　us；　we

may　apprehend　partially　the　laws　by　which　speech　is　regulated：　　but　we　do

not　know；　and　we　seem　as　if　we　should　never　know；　any　more　than　in　the

parallel　case　of　the　origin　of　species；　how　vocal　sounds　received　life　and

grew；　and　in　the　form　of　languages　came　to　be　distributed　over　the　earth。



iii。　　Next　in　order　to　analogy　in　the　formation　of　language　or　even　prior

to　it　comes　the　principle　of　onomatopea；　which　is　itself　a　kind　of　analogy

or　similarity　of　sound　and　meaning。　　In　by　far　the　greater　number　of　words

it　has　become　disguised　and　has　disappeared；　but　in　no　stage　of　language　is

it　entirely　lost。　　It　belongs　chiefly　to　early　language；　in　which　words

were　few；　and　its　influence　grew　less　and　less　as　time　went　on。　　To　the　ear

which　had　a　sense　of　harmony　it　became　a　barbarism　which　disturbed　the　flow

and　equilibrium　of　discourse；　it　was　an　excrescence　which　had　to　be　cut

out；　a　survival　which　needed　to　be　got　rid　of；　because　it　was　out　of

keeping　with　the　rest。　　It　remained　for　the　most　part　only　as　a　formative

principle；　which　used　words　and　letters　not　as　crude　imitations　of　other

natural　sounds；　but　as　symbols　of　ideas　which　were　naturally　associated

with　them。　　It　received　in　another　way　a　new　character；　it　affected　not　so

much　single　words；　as　larger　portions　of　human　speech。　　It　regulated　the

juxtaposition　of　sounds　and　the　cadence　of　sentences。　　It　was　the　music；

not　of　song；　but　of　speech；　in　prose　as　well　as　verse。　　The　old　onomatopea

of　primitive　language　was　refined　into　an　onomatopea　of　a　higher　kind；　in

which　it　is　no　longer　true　to　say　that　a　particular　sound　corresponds　to　a

motion　or　action　of　man　or　beast　or　movement　of　nature；　but　that　in　all　the

higher　uses　of　language　the　sound　is　the　echo　of　the　sense；　especially　in

poetry；　in　which　beauty　and　expressiveness　are　given　to　human　thoughts　by

the　harmonious　composition　of　the　words；　syllables；　letters；　accents；

quantities；　rhythms；　rhymes；　varieties　and　contrasts　of　all　sorts。　　The

poet　with　his　'Break；　break；　break'　or　his　e　pasin　nekuessi

kataphthimenoisin　anassein　or　his　'longius　ex　altoque　sinum　trahit；'　can

produce　a　far　finer　music　than　any　crude　imitations　of　things　or　actions　in

sound；　although　a　let