7 complishment of fluent speech in every language of modern Europe may bring with it a much smaller acquaintance with the principles of philology than is involved in a thorough, if even elementary, study of Latin grammar. So too, it must be remembered that the Greek language, considered as a work of art, is absolutely the best: "it is the only tongue," as has been well said, "that has the texture of marble." Moreover the classical literatures, considered of course as literature quite apart from the "information" they convey, have not yet been surpassed. To forego the study of the masterpieces of antiquity would be to cut ourselves off deliberately from the opportunity of looking at the very highest models, the perfection of literary art, the standard which should be a perpetual rebuke to everything lax or slipshod in thought or execution. As recent years have seen the publication of many unusually skilful and workmanlike translations of the Classics, it may be desirable to remind a lazy generation that the best translation cannot reproduce the general tone and feeling-much less the more delicate nuances of the original. If the ancient authors could see the cleverest modern translations of their works, it would have to be said of them that "mirantur novas frondes et non sua poma." There are recorded instances in which men of undoubted genius have been led to confess that they have been more astonished at the wonderful capacity and industry of the translator than at the wisdom of the original writer. If the aim of classical study be such as has been asserted and its advantages such as have been described, it will be plain. that the right method of studying the Greek and Latin authors will be that which combines in due proportion the proper study of the languages and that of the literatures. Of course, it is difficult to say where the study of a language ends and that of its literature begins; but, at the risk of some cross-divisions, it . will be necessary for the purposes of this discussion to treat each branch of study as in some sense independent. Not a few writers have exhibited a tendency to deny the value of a thorough study of the grammar of the classical languages. Stress has been laid on the intolerable drudgery involved in a long course of tuition in uninteresting grammatical rules and examples. It has been alleged that by its irksomeness it creates a distaste for the study to which it is intended to serve as an introduction, and that it provokes a deplorable reaction. In some cases, it is to be feared, the indolence of the emancipated adult shrinks so sensitively from exertion of any kind that, by the natural operation of the principle of association, it is pained by the mere reminiscence of compulsory exertion during boyhood. Be that as it may, the argument appears to be of force against injudicious methods of grammatical instruction and not against grammatical instruction in itself. If Gibbon purchased his knowledge of the Latin syntax "at 8 the expense of many tears and some blood," it is natural to infer not so much that grammatical teaching has injurious effects upon the system as that Gibbon's school-master was unfit for his post. The complaint should be directed not against harmless gerunds but against inanimate and mechanical gerund-grinders. Recent advances in the theory and practice of pedagogy bid fair to make it impossible for such unpleasant recollections to find a place in the autobiographies of future historians. The spirit of revolt against the teaching of grammar was fostered not only by the unsatisfactory nature of the prevalent methods of grammatical teaching, but more especially perhaps by the fact that such instruction formed almost the whole of the educational curriculum; it claimed an undeserved monopoly that refused all concession to a demand for variety that might have been satisfied by the setting apart of even a small proportion of time for subjects of more immediate interest. A monotonous diet, however intrinsically wholesome, is sure to lead to satiety. In the hands of a capable teacher, employing suitable text-books, the study of grammar need not prove to be a very great weariness to the flesh of any student who is not possessed by an invincible repugnance to hard work. It is certainly necessary for the intelligent study of the classic authors themselves, and also provides a discipline not to be despised; so that if some genius were to hit upon a plan by which a precise understanding of the authors could be attained without a training in grammar, it would be doubtful, in the best interests of education, whether advantage should be taken of his discovery. And until this discovery be announced, the study of grammar must be continued as a necessary basis for the correct appreciation of the classical literatures. Sir Walter Scott described the Baron of Bradwardine as "a scholar according to the scholarship of Scotchmen, that is, his learning was more diffuse than accurate, and he was rather a reader than a grammarian." Then we may safely judge that the Baron lost more by the superficiality of his reading than he gained by its breadth. Writers who in the exuberant confidence of youth disparaged a thorough acquaintance with the technicalities of grammar have often in maturer years repented of their early indiscretion. Thus Joseph Scaliger, who rushed at break-neck speed through the Greek authors, making up his grammar as he went along, lived to say:-" I wish I was a skilful grammarian. No one can understand any author, without a thorough knowledge of grammar. Those who pretend to undervalue learned grammarians are arrant blockheads, without any exception." So, too, Dr. Thomas Arnold, after years of experience as a school-master, no longer, as when an undergraduate, undervalued an intimate acquaintance with the niceties of the classical languages. Even John Milton, one of the best examples of the scholar who is no pedant, set himself to the laborious enterprise 9 of compiling a Latin lexicon as part of his language training. We are often reminded, in a quotation whose popular applicarion is itself an instance of disregard of the spirit of a passage for the sake of its prima facie literal meaning, that "the letter killeth but the spirit giveth life." Yet it must be remembered that the spirit of an author of the first rank—and the remark does not apply to psychological poets exclusively-can only be known through a careful pondering of the sentences and words that he has written. Many points connected with the linguistic branch of classical study, especially in its elementary stages, come rather within the range of a treatise on the science of education, but a passing notice may not be out of place here. More than one theory has been expressed with regard to the order in which the classical languages should be studied by beginners. Benjamin Franklin, on the principle of graduating the student's difficulties, suggested the desirability of beginning with French and proceeding to Latin through Italian. John Locke, in his "Thoughts on Education"-a book strangely neglected-also urged that Latin should be approached through French. At any rate, a thorough grounding in the grammar of the English language should be regarded as a necessary preliminary to instruction in a classical tongue. In spite of the plea that the student should "go at once to the fountain-head of immortal Greece," the customary plan of attacking Latin before Greek is probably the more reasonable, since Latin is more practically useful and, in its vocabulary and inflexions, is less difficult of acquirement to English students. In these days it is hardly necessary to call attention to the fact that grammar should be studied not merely from grammatical text-books, but also in connexion with the interpretation of some classical author. "This," wrote Ascham; "is a lively and perfite waie of teaching of rewles; where the common way used in common scholes, to read the grammar alone by itself, is tedious for the master, hard for the scholer, and uncomfortable for them both." The fulness of the explanatory notes in some of the most popular school editions of the Classics. may perhaps be regarded as exemplifying a tendency to carry this principle to an extreme. It is likely to discourage attention to the acquirement of such a systematic view of grammar as can be obtained only from the manuals of that subject, for the boy who finds by trial that his notes clear up all the cruces, and even provide him with profuse explanations of difficulties that can hardly be dignified by such a name, will quickly learn to regard as a work of supererogation the task of clearing up difficulties for himself with no other aids than dictionary and primer. The pattern commentary should suggest as well as instruct. Any saving in time and trouble that is effected by this smoothing of rough paths is more than counterbalanced by the loss in disci ΙΟ pline. In classical study, if anywhere, it is needful to hasten slowly. Another danger in grammatical teaching is that against which Haupt warned his pupils when he advised them to use no technical terms of grammar, intending by this dictum to protest against the idea that a peculiar construction is of necessity understood as soon as it is ticketed by some such label as zeugma, ellipse, or the like. In insisting on this principle he seems to have been anticipated by Dr. Arnold, of whom his biographer says that "his practical talent as a scholar consisted in his insight into the general structure of sentences and the general principles of language, and in his determination to discard all those unmeaning phrases and forms of expression by which so many writers of the last generation and boys of all generations endeavour to conceal their ignorance." Most practical teachers, then, would agree that a thorough acquaintance with classical grammar can only be gained when the study of grammar pure and simple is allied with constant practice in translating from and into the classical tongues. Even if such practice possessed no other merits, such as the additional command which it gives over our own language, it would still be of great value as enabling the student, to use an Aristotelian phrase, to "realise" his grammar. Translation, if "the death of understanding" to a ripe scholar, is the germ of living study to a beginner. A free use of published translations. would of course be fatal. The employment of such helps may be defended in the case of private students who have not the advantage of a teacher's assistance, as also in cases where it is desirable to set before the student a model translation as a standard for his own efforts. A translation may also be used, apart from the original, when it is likely to be profitable to gain a general view of the purport of a whole book before attempting the task of mastering it in detail. For all other purposes, translations will be set aside by every one who has the making of a student in him. They should be left to the disinterested philomaths to whom the classical authors mean only the barrier to a profession. Translation from English into Greek and Latin is still more necessary to the attainment of a mastery of the classical languages. It is not a mere irrational tradition which sets a high value upon the power of writing idiomatically in Greek and Latin. Such an accomplishment demands not only the perfect "realisation" of the grammar, but also an intimate acquaintance with the niceties of the language, and even to some extent an insight into ancient modes of thought. It is surprising that the plan of re-translation is not more common in classical education. The student who turns into Latin a passage from some English author finds that the phrases he has put together in the first place, especially if he thinks them very striking and clever-and the more clever they seem, the more atrocious Latin they II More are likely to be-stick to his memory far more tenaciously than any subsequent improvements suggested by his tutor on revision. The plan of translating carefully into idiomatic English a passage from a classical author and, after an interval of a few days, translating it back into the original minimises the danger of making the student's memory a field for the sowing of wild oats. over, there appears to be no reason why classical composition should be restricted to written exercises. Frequent practice in conversation in the classical languages would be a valuable assistance to the memory, as has been sufficiently proved by the results of this method when applied to the teaching of modern languages. The adoption of this process, however, as well as the ordinary method of instruction in prose composition, demands very accurate and finished scholarship on the part of the teacher. If Joseph Scaliger, by dint of daily practice in speaking and writing the language, attained an early mastery of the difficulties of Latin prose, it must be remembered that not every student is fortunate enough to have a Julius Caesar Scaliger as critic and colloquist. With respect to the muchdisputed question of verse composition, while there is much to be said for the view which condemns as elaborate trifling the spending of a large amount of time and labour on the mechanical re-arrangement of paltry plagiarisms from Virgil and Ovid, it may be pleaded that a moderate practice in verse composition is extremely useful as an aid to a thorough understanding of classical prosody and metre. Many students who, from lack of instruction in verse-making, have spent weary hours in grappling with "metrum Asclepiadeum primum" and "metrum Archilochium secundum," and have been reduced to the disagreeable necessity of reading up the subject afresh before every successive examination, would be the first to admit that it would have been a judicious economy if the nature of the various metrical systems had been impressed on the memory by early attempts at imitation. Carried beyond the point at which it gives the student an easy familiarity with the metres as exemplified in the classical authors, verse composition probably costs more than it is worth. In this connexion it may be suggested that a student may receive no harm from endeavouring to reproduce in English verse the unusual rhythm of the Greek and Latin poets, provided that he do not conceive it necessary to publish his experiments. Grammar naturally suggests comparative philology, a branch of study cultivated with increasing ardour. Perhaps no subject connected with classical study has profited more abundantly from the research of the nineteenth century. Many boys still at school could talk familiarly of phonetic changes with a display of learning that would have startled Bentley and Porson, who would probably have taken Guna and Vriddhi for the names of Hindoo deities. The benefits of philological research |