Spare Hours, by John Brown. Published 1864, ©1861.
Do not read the dog-based stories if you have modern sensibilities. There are many examples of unhappy canine treatment.
Also, better be brushed up on your Greek and Latin, as it is everywhere without translation.
Bookp(h)ile
After this rapid glance at the history of the other
physical sciences, we now return to our own, the science
of language, in order to see whether it really is
a science, and whether it can be brought back to the
standard of the inductive sciences. We want to know
whether it has passed, or is still passing, through the
three phases of physical research; whether its progress
has been systematic or desultory, whether its method
has been appropriate or not. But before we do this, we
shall, I think, have to do something else. You may
have observed that I always took it for granted that
the science of language, which is best known in this
country by the name of comparative philology, is one
of the physical sciences, and that therefore its method
ought to be the same as that which has been followed
with so much success in botany, geology, anatomy,
and other branches of the study of nature. In the
history of the physical sciences, however, we look in
vain for a place assigned to comparative philology, and
its very name would seem to show that it belongs to
quite a different sphere of human knowledge. There
are two great divisions of human knowledge, which,
according to their subject-matter, are called physical
and historical. Physical science deals with the works
of God, historical science with the works of man.
Now if we were to judge by its name, comparative
philology, like classical philology, would seem to take
rank, not as a physical, but as an historical science,
and the proper method to be applied to it would be
that which is followed in the history of art, of law,
of politics, and religion. However, the title of comparative
philology must not be allowed to mislead us.
It is difficult to say by whom that title was invented;
but all that can be said in defence of it is, that the
founders of the science of language were chiefly scholars
or philologists, and that they based their inquiries
into the nature and laws of language on a comparison
of as many facts as they could collect within their own
special spheres of study. Neither in Germany, which
may well be called the birthplace of this science, nor
in France, where it has been cultivated with brilliant
success, has that title been adopted. It will not be
difficult to show that, although the science of language
owes much to the classical scholar, and though in return
it has proved of great use to him, yet comparative
philology has really nothing whatever in common
with philology in the usual meaning of the word.
Philology, whether classical or oriental, whether treating
of ancient or modern, of cultivated or barbarous
languages, is an historical science. Language is here
treated simply as a means. The classical scholar uses
Greek or Latin, the oriental scholar Hebrew or Sanskrit, or any other language, as a key to an understanding
of the literary monuments which by-gone ages have
bequeathed to us, as a spell to raise from the tomb of
time the thoughts of great men in different ages and
different countries, and as a means ultimately to trace
the social, moral, intellectual, and religious progress of
the human race. In the same manner, if we study
living languages, it is not for their own sake that we
acquire grammars and vocabularies. We do so on
account of their practical usefulness. We use them
as letters of introduction to the best society or to the
best literature of the leading nations of Europe. In
comparative philology the case is totally different. In
the science of language, languages are not treated as
a means; language itself becomes the sole object of
scientific inquiry. Dialects which have never produced
any literature at all, the jargons of savage tribes,
the clicks of the Hottentots, and the vocal modulations
of the Indo-Chinese are as important, nay, for the solution
of some of our problems, more important, than
the poetry of Homer, or the prose of Cicero. We do
not want to know languages, we want to know language;
what language is, how it can form a vehicle
or an organ of thought; we want to know its origin,
its nature, its laws; and it is only in order to arrive
at that knowledge that we collect, arrange, and classify
all the facts of language that are within our reach.
A passage of some beauty, from a book I scanned the other day and contributed to the Distributed Proofreading system. It just happens that I pulled these pages out at random and proofread them in the first round.
Müller’s works are still used as texts today, though he’s perhaps better known as the founder of comparative religion–which it seems he did somewhat out of spite, since he missed out on becoming the Professor of Sanskrit at Oxford.
I present the paragraph because of the clarity and beauty of the language, and the ideas. I miss writing like this.