Our
National Language
Thomas Osbourne
Davis -(1814 - 1845)
Men, are ever valued most for
peculiar and original qualities. A man who can only talk
commonplace, and act according to routine, has little weight. To
speak, look, and do what your own soul from its depths orders
you are credentials of greatness which all men understand and
acknowledge. Such a man's dictum has more influence than the
reasoning of an imitative or commonplace man. He fills his
circle with confidence. He is self-possessed, firm, accurate,
and daring. Such men are the pioneers of civilisation and the
rulers of the human heart.
Why should not nations be judged thus? Is not a full indulgence
of its natural tendencies essential to a people's greatness
Force the manners, dress, language and constitution of Russia,
or Italy, or Norway, or America, and you instantly stunt and
distort the whole mind of either people.
The language, which grows up with a people, is conformed to
their organs, descriptive of their climate, constitution, and
manners, mingled inseparably with their history and their soil,
fitted beyond any other language to express their prevalent
thoughts in the most natural and efficient way.
To impose another language on such a people is to send their
history adrift among the accidents of translation - 'tis to tear
their identity from all places - 'tis to substitute arbitrary
signs for picturesque and suggestive names - 'tis to cut off the
entail of feeling, and separate the people from their
forefathers by a deep gulf - 'tis to corrupt their very organs,
and abridge their power of expression.
The language of a nation's youth is the only easy and full
speech for its manhood and for its age. And ' when the language
of its cradle aces, itself craves a tomb.
What business has a Russian for the rippling language of Italy
or India? How could a Greek distort his organs and his soul to
speak Dutch upon the sides of the Hymettus, or the beach of
Salamis, or on the waste where once was Sparta? And is it
befitting the fiery, delicate-organed-Celt to abandon his
beautiful, tongue, docile and spirited as an Arab, "sweet as
music, strong as the wave" - is it befitting in him to abandon
this wild, liquid speech for the mongrel of a hundred breeds
called English, which, powerful though it be, creaks and bangs
about the Celt who tries to use it?
We lately met a glorious thought in the "Triads of Mochmed"
printed in one of the Welsh codes by the Record Commission:
"There are three things without which there is no country -
common language, common judicature, and co-tillage land - for
without these a country cannot support itself in peace and
social union."
A people without a language of its own is only half a nation. A
nation should guard its language more than its territories -
'tis a surer barrier, and more important frontier, than fortress
or river.
And in good times it has ever been thought so. Who had dared to
propose the adoption of Persian or Egyptian in Greece - how had
Pericles thundered at the barbarian? How had Cato scourged from
the forum him who would have given the Attic or Gallic speech to
men of Rome? How proudly and how nobly Germany stopped "the
incipient creeping" progress of French! And no sooner had she
succeeded than her genius, which had tossed in a hot-trance,
sprung up fresh and triumphant.
Had Pyrrhus quelled ltaly, or Xerxes subdued Greece for a time
long enough to impose new languages, where had been the
literature which gives a pedigree to human genius? Even liberty
recovered had been sickly and insecure without the language with
which it had hunted in the woods, worshipped at the fruit-strewn
altar, debated on the council-hill, and shouted in the
battle-charge.
There is a fine song of the Fusians, which describes "Language
linked to liberty."
To lose your native tongue, and learn that of an alien, is the
worst badge of conquest - it is the chain on the soul. To have
lost entirely the national language is death; the fetter has
worn through. So long as the Saxon held to his German speech he
could hope to resume his land from the Norman now, if he is to
be free and locally governed, he must build himself a new home.
There is hope for Scotland - strong hope for Wales - sure hope
for Hungary. The speech of the alien is not universal in the
one; is gallantly held at bay in the other; is nearly expelled
from the third.
How unnatural - how corrupting 'tis for us, three-fourths of
whom are of Celtic blood, to speak a medley of Teutonic
dialects! If we add the Celtic Scots, who came back here from
the thirteenth to the seventeenth centuries, and the Celtic
Welsh, who colonised many parts of Wexford and other Leinster
counties, to the Celts who never left Ireland, probably
five-sixths, or more, of us are Celts. What business have we
with the Norman-Sassenagh?
Nor let any doubt these proportions because of the number of
English names in Ireland. With a politic cruelty the English of
the Pale passed an Act (3 Edw. IV., c.3) compelling every
Irishman within English jurisdiction "to go like to one
Englishman in apparel, and shaving off his beard above the
mouth," "and shall take to him an English sirname of one town,
as Sutton, Chester, Trym, Skryne, Corke, Kinsale; or colour, as
White, Blacke, Browne; or art or science, as Smith or Carpenter
or office, as Cook, Butler; and that he and his issue shall use
this name, under pain of forfeiting his goods yearly."
And just as this Parliament before the Reformation, so did
another after the Reformation. By the 28th Henry Vlll., c. 15,
the dress and language of the Irish were insolently described as
barbarous by the minions of that ruffian king, and were utterly
forbidden and abolished under many penalties and incapacities.
These laws are still in force; but whether the Archaeological
Society, including Peel and O'Connell, will be prosecuted seems
doubtful.
There was, also, 'tis to be feared, an adoption of English
names, during some periods, from fashion, fear, or meanness.
Some of our best Irish names, too, have been so mangled as to
require some scholarship to identify them. For these and many
more reasons the members of the Celtic race here are immensely
greater than at first appears.
But this is not all; for even the Saxon and Norman colonists,
notwithstanding these laws, melted down into the Irish, and
adopted all their ways and language. For centuries upon
centuries Irish was spoken by men of all bloods in Ireland, and
English was unknown, save to a few citizens and nobles of the
Pale. 'Tis only within a very late period that the majority of
the people learned English.
But, it will be asked, how can the language be restored now ?
We shall answer this partly by saying that, through the labours
of the Archaeological and many lesser societies, it is being
revived rapidly.
We shall consider this question of the possibility of reviving
it more at length some other day.
Nothing can make us believe that it is natural or honourable for
the Irish to speak the speech of the alien, the invader, the
Sassenagh tyrant, and to abandon the language of our kings and
heroes. What! give up the tongue of Ollamh Fodhla and Brian Boru,
the tongue of M'Carty, and the O'Nials, the tongue of
Sarsfield's, Curran's, Mathew's, and O'Connell's boyhood, for
that of Strafford and Poynings, Sussex, Kirk, and Cromwell!
No! oh, no! the "brighter days shall surely come," and the green
flag shall wave on our towers, and the sweet old language be
heard once more in college, mart, and senate. But even should
the effort to save it as the national language fail, by the
attempt we will rescue its old literature, and hand down to our
descendants proofs that we had a language as fit for love, and
war, and business, and pleasure, as the world ever knew, and
that we had not the spirit and nationality to preserve it!
Had Swift known Irish he would have sowed its seed by the side
of that nationality which he planted, and the close of the last
century would have seen the one as flourishing as the other. Had
Ireland used Irish in 1782, would it not have impeded England's
re-conquest of us? But 'tis not yet too late. For you, if the
mixed speech called English was laid with sweetmeats on your
child's tongue, English is the best speech of manhood. And yet,
rather, in that case you are unfortunate. The hills, and lakes,
and rivers, the forts and castles, the churches and parishes,
the baronies and counties around you, have all Irish names -
names which describe the nature of the scenery or ground, the
name of founder, or chief, or priest, or the leading fact in the
history of the place. To you these are names hard to pronounce,
and without meaning.
And yet it were, well for you to
know them. That knowledge would be a topography, and a history,
and romance, walking by your side, and helping your discourse.
Meath tells it flatness, Clonmel the abundant riches of its
valley, Fermanagh is the land of the Lakes, Tyrone the country
of Owen, Kilkenny the Church of St. Canice, Dunmore the great
fort, Athenry the Ford of the Kings, Dunleary the Fort of
O'Leary; and the Phoenix Park, instead of taking its name from a
fable, recognises as christener the "sweet water" which yet
springs near the cast gate. (Bright Water is the true rendering
- Binn uisce)
All the names of our airs and songs
are Irish, and we every day are as puzzled and ingeniously wrong
about them as the man who, when asked for the air, "I am asleep,
and don't waken me," called it "Tommy M'Cullagh made boots for
me."
The bulk of our history and poetry
are written in Irish, and shall we, who learn Italian, and
Latin, and Greek, to read Dante, Livy, and Homer in the
original-shall we be content with ignorance or a translation of
Irish?
The want of modern scientific words in Irish is un-deniable, and
doubtless we should adopt the existing names into our language.
The Germans have done the same thing, and no one calls German
mongrel on that account. Most of these names are clumsy and
extravagant; and are almost all derived from Greek or Latin, and
cut as foreign a figure in French and English as they would in
Irish. Once Irish was recognised as a language to be learned as
much as French or Italian, our dictionaries would fill up and
our vocabularies ramify, to suit all the wants of life and
conversation.
These objections are ingenious refinements, however, rarely
thought of till after the other and great objection has been
answered.
The usual objection to attempting the revival of Irish is, that
it could not succeed.
If an attempt were made to introduce Irish, either through the
national schools, or the courts of law, into the eastern side of
the island, it would certainly fail, and the reaction might
extinguish it altogether. But no one contemplates this save as a
dream of what may happen a hundred years hence. It is quite
another thing to say, as we do, that the Irish language should
be cherished, taught, and esteemed, and that it can be preserved
and gradually extended.
What we seek is, that the people of the upper classes should
have their children taught the language which explains our names
of persons or places, our older history, and our music, and
which is spoken in the majority of our counties, rather than
Italian, German, or French. It would be more useful in life,
more serviceable to the taste and genius of young people, and a
more flexible accomplishment for an Irish man or woman to speak,
sign, and write Irish than French.
At present the middle classes think it a sign of vulgarity to
speak Irish - the children are everywhere taught English, and
English alone in schools - and, what is worse, they are urged by
rewards and punishments to speak it at home, for English is the
language of their masters. Now, we think the example and
exertions of the upper classes would be sufficient to set the
opposite and better fashion of preferring Irish; and, even as a
matter of taste, we think them bound to do so. And we ask it of
the pride, the patriotism, and the hearts of our farmers and
shopkeepers, will they try to drive out of their children's
minds the native language of almost every great man we had, from
Brian Boru to O'Connell - will they meanly sacrifice the
language which names their hills, and towns, and music, to the
tongue of the stranger?
About half the people west of a line drawn from Derry to
Waterford speak Irish habitually, and in some of the mountain
tracts cast of that line it is still common. Simply requiring
the teachers of the national schools in these Irish-speaking
districts to know Irish, and supplying them with Irish
translations of the school books, would guard the language where
it now exists, and prevent it from being swept away by the
English tongue, as the Red Americans have been by the English
race from New York to New Orleans. The example of the upper
classes would extend and develop a modern Irish literature, and
the hearty support they have given to the Archaeological Society
makes us hope that they will have sense and spirit to do so. But
the establishment of a newspaper partly or wholly Irish would be
the most rapid and sure way of serving the language.
The Irish-speaking man would find, in his native tongue, the
political news and general information he has now to seek in
English; and the English-speaking man, having Irish frequently
before him in so attractive a form, would be tempted to learn
its characters, and, by-and-by, its meaning. These newspapers in
many languages are now to be found everywhere but here. In South
America many of these papers are Spanish and English, or French;
in North America, French and English; in Northern Italy; German
and Italian; in Denmark and Holland, German is used in addition
to the native tongue; in Alsace and Switzerland, French and
German; in Poland, German, French, and Sclavonic; in Turkey,
French and Turkish ; in Hungary, Magyar, Sclavonic, and German;
and the little Canton of Grison uses three languages in its
press. With the exception of Hungary, the secondary language is,
in all cases, spoken by fewer persons than the Irish-speaking
people of Ireland, and while they everywhere tolerate and use
one language as a medium of commerce, they cherish the other as
the vehicle of history, the wings of song, the soil of their
genius, and a mark and guard of nationality.