itself. He wanders with delight in its perplexing mazes; and values that grammar most which enters most minutely into an abstract analysis of the construction of the language, apart from its practical bearing on the literature or even on the formation of his own vernacular dialect. But the matter-of-fact temperament of an European, or at least of an Englishman, his peculiar mental organization, his hereditary and educational bias, are opposed to all such purely philosophical ideas of grammatical investigation. A Sanskrit grammar intended for his use must be plain, straightforward, practical; not founded on the mere abstract theory of native grammarians, not moulded in servile conformity to Indian authority, but constructed independently from an examination of the literature, and with direct reference to the influence exercised by Sanskrit on the spoken dialects of India and the cognate languages of Europe. To the English student, as a general rule, all grammatical study is a disagreeable necessity-a mere means to an end-a troublesome road that must be passed in order that the goal of a sound knowledge of a language may be attained. To meet his requirements the ground must be cleared of needless obstacles, its rough places made smooth, its crooked places straight, and the passage over it facilitated by simplicity and perspicuity of arrangement, by consistency and unity of design, by abundance of example and illustration, by synoptical tables, by copious indices, by the various artifices of typography.

Before directing attention to the main features of the plan adopted in the present volume, and indicating the principal points in which it either differs from or conforms to the Indian system of grammatical tuition, I will endeavour to explain briefly what that system is; on what principles it is based; and in what relation it stands to the literature.

It might have been expected that in Sanskrit, as in

other languages, grammatical works should have been composed in direct subservience to the literature. But without going the length of affirming that the rules were anterior to the practice, or that grammarians in their elaborate precepts aimed at inventing forms of speech which were not established by approved usage, certain it is that in India we have presented to us the curious phenomenon of a vast assemblage of purely grammatical treatises, the professed object of which is not so much to elucidate the existing literature, as to be studied for their own sake, or as ancillary to the study of the more abstruse work of the first great grammarian, Páṇini. We have, moreover, two distinct phases of literature; the one, simple and naturalthat is to say, composed independently of grammatical rules, though of course amenable to them; the other, elaborate, artificial, and professedly written to exemplify the theory of grammar. The literary compositions which preceded the appearance of Pánini's aphorisms, probably about the 2d century B. C., belong of course to the first of these phases. Such are the Vedas, the code of Manu, and the two epic poems of the Rámáyana and Mahá-bhárata *. The Vedas, indeed, which are referred back to a period as early as the 12th or 13th century B. C., abound in obsolete and peculiar formations, mixed up with the more recent forms of grammar with so much irregularity as to lead to the inference, that the language at that time was too unsettled and variable to be brought under subjection to a system of strict grammatical rules; while the simplicity of the style in the code of Manu and the two epic poems is a plain indication that a grammar founded on and intended to be a guide to the literature as it then existed, would have

* That Pánini was subsequent to the Mahá-bhárata may be conjectured from the circumstance that in the chapter on patronymics the examples given in the Vártikas or supplementary rules (probably nearly as ancient as the Sútras) seem to be taken from the names of the chiefs and warriors of that poem.

differed from the Pániníya Sútras as a straight road from a labyrinth.

What then was the nature of Pánini's extraordinary work, which caused so complete a revolution in the character of Sanskrit literary composition? It consisted of about four thousand Sútras or aphorisms, composed with the symbolic brevity of the most concise memoria technica. These were to the science of Sanskrit grammar what the seed is to the tree, the bud to the full-blown flower. They were the germ of that series of grammatical treatises which, taking root in them, speedily germinated and ramified in all directions. Each aphorism, in itself more dark and mystic than the darkest and most mystical of oracles, was pregnant with an endless progeny of interpretations and commentaries, sometimes as obscure as the original. About one hundred and fifty grammarians and annotators followed in the footsteps of the great Father of Sanskrit grammar, and, professing to explain and illustrate his dicta, made the display of their own philological learning the paramount aim and purpose of their disquisitions.

It cannot be wondered, when all the subtlety of the Indian intellect expended itself in this direction, that the science of Sanskrit grammar should have been refined and elaborated by the Hindús to a degree wholly unknown in the other languages of the world. The highly artificial writings of later times resulted from such an elaboration, and were closely interwoven with it; and although much of the literature was still simple and natural, the greater part was affected by that passion for the display of philological erudition which was derived from the works of Pánini and his disciples. Poetry itself became partially inoculated with the mania. Great poets, like Kálidása, who in the generality of their writings were remarkable for majestic simplicity and vigour, condescended in some of their works to humour the taste of the day by adopting

a pedantic and obscure style; while others, like Bhaṭṭi, wrote long poems, either with the avowed object of exemplifying grammar, or with the ill-concealed motive of exhibiting their own familiarity with the niceties and subtleties of speech.

Indeed it is to be regretted that the Pandits of India should have overlaid their system, possessing as it does undeniable excellencies, with a network of mysticism. Had they designed to keep the key of the knowledge of their language, and to shut the door against the vulgar, they could hardly have invented a method more perplexing and discouraging to beginners. Having required, as a preliminary step, that the student shall pass a noviciate of ten years in the grammar alone, they have constructed a complicated machinery of signs, symbols, and indicatory letters, which may be well calculated to aid the memory of the initiated natives, but only serves to bewilder the English tyro. He has enough to do, in conquering the difficulties of a strange character, without puzzling himself at the very threshold in a labyrinth of symbols and abbreviations, and perplexing himself in his endeavour to understand a complicated cipher, with an equally complicated key to its interpretation. Even Colebrooke, the profoundest Sanskrit scholar of his day, imbued as he was with a predilection for every thing Indian, remarks on the eight lectures or chapters, which, with four sections under each, comprise all the celebrated Pániníya Sútras, and constitute the basis of the Hindú grammatical system;-The outline of Pánini's arrangement is simple, but numerous exceptions and frequent digressions have involved it in much seeming confusion. The first two lectures (the first section especially, which is in a manner the key of the whole grammar) contain definitions; in the three next are collected the affixes by which verbs and nouns are inflected. Those which appertain to verbs occupy the third lecture; the fourth

and fifth contain such as are affixed to nouns. The remaining three lectures treat of the changes which roots and affixes undergo in special cases, or by general rules of orthography, and which are all effected by the addition or by the substitution of one or more elements. The apparent simplicity of the design vanishes in the perplexity of the structure. The endless pursuit of exceptions and limitations so disjoins the general precepts, that the reader cannot keep in view their intended connexion and mutual relation. He wanders in an intricate maze, and the clue of the labyrinth is continually slipping from his hand.' Again; The studied brevity of the Pániníya Sútras renders them in the highest degree obscure; even with the knowledge of the key to their interpretation, the student finds them ambiguous. In the application of them, when understood, he discovers many seeming contradictions; and, with every exertion of practised memory, he must experience the utmost difficulty in combining rules dispersed in apparent confusion through different portions of Pánini's eight lectures.'

That the reader may judge for himself of the almost incredible brevity and hopeless obscurity of these grammatical aphorisms, it may be worth while here to furnish him with one or two examples. The closing Sútra at the end of the eighth lecture is as follows: a a.' Will it be believed that this is interpreted to mean, Let short a be held to have its organ of utterance contracted, now that we have reached the end of the work, in which it was necessary to regard it as being otherwise?'

6

Another example, taken from the third section of the eighth lecture, may be useful as showing that grammatical theory is sometimes not strictly carried out in practice. The Sútra (VIII. 3. 31) is as follows: 'fsi tuk.' This is interpreted to signify, that when comes at the end of

.

a word, and follows, the augment

may be inserted,