by Mark Twain
There are people in the world who will take a great deal of trouble topoint out the faults in a religion or a language, and then go blandlyabout their business without suggesting any remedy. I am not that kindof person. I have shown that the German language needs reforming. Verywell, I am ready to reform it. At least I am ready to make the propersuggestions. Such a course as this might be immodest in another; but Ihave devoted upward of nine full weeks, first and last, to a careful andcritical study of this tongue, and thus have acquired a confidence inmy ability to reform it which no mere superficial culture could haveconferred upon me.
In the first place, I would leave out the Dative case. It confuses theplurals; and, besides, nobody ever knows when he is in the Dative case,except he discover it by accident--and then he does not know when orwhere it was that he got into it, or how long he has been in it, orhow he is ever going to get out of it again. The Dative case is but anornamental folly--it is better to discard it.
In the next place, I would move the Verb further up to the front. Youmay load up with ever so good a Verb, but I notice that you never reallybring down a subject with it at the present German range--you onlycripple it. So I insist that this important part of speech should bebrought forward to a position where it may be easily seen with the nakedeye.
Thirdly, I would import some strong words from the English tongue--toswear with, and also to use in describing all sorts of vigorous thingsin a vigorous way. [4]
1. "Verdammt," and its variations and enlargements, are words whichhave plenty of meaning, but the SOUNDS are so mild and ineffectual thatGerman ladies can use them without sin. German ladies who could not beinduced to commit a sin by any persuasion or compulsion, promptly ripout one of these harmless little words when they tear their dresses ordon't like the soup. It sounds about as wicked as our "My gracious."German ladies are constantly saying, "Ach! Gott!" "Mein Gott!" "Gott inHimmel!" "Herr Gott" "Der Herr Jesus!" etc. They think our ladies havethe same custom, perhaps; for I once heard a gentle and lovely oldGerman lady say to a sweet young American girl: "The two languages areso alike--how pleasant that is; we say 'Ach! Gott!' you say 'Goddamn.'"
Fourthly, I would reorganizes the sexes, and distribute them accordinglyto the will of the creator. This as a tribute of respect, if nothingelse.
Fifthly, I would do away with those great long compounded words; orrequire the speaker to deliver them in sections, with intermissions forrefreshments. To wholly do away with them would be best, for ideas aremore easily received and digested when they come one at a time than whenthey come in bulk. Intellectual food is like any other; it is pleasanterand more beneficial to take it with a spoon than with a shovel.
Sixthly, I would require a speaker to stop when he is done, and nothang a string of those useless "haven sind gewesen gehabt haben gewordenseins" to the end of his oration. This sort of gewgaws undignify aspeech, instead of adding a grace. They are, therefore, an offense, andshould be discarded.
Seventhly, I would discard the Parenthesis. Also the reparenthesis, there-reparenthesis, and the re-re-re-re-re-reparentheses, and likewisethe final wide-reaching all-enclosing king-parenthesis. I would requireevery individual, be he high or low, to unfold a plain straightforwardtale, or else coil it and sit on it and hold his peace. Infractions ofthis law should be punishable with death.
And eighthly, and last, I would retain ZUG and SCHLAG, with theirpendants, and discard the rest of the vocabulary. This would simplifythe language.
I have now named what I regard as the most necessary and importantchanges. These are perhaps all I could be expected to name for nothing;but there are other suggestions which I can and will make in case myproposed application shall result in my being formally employed by thegovernment in the work of reforming the language.
My philological studies have satisfied me that a gifted person ought tolearn English (barring spelling and pronouncing) in thirty hours, Frenchin thirty days, and German in thirty years. It seems manifest, then,that the latter tongue ought to be trimmed down and repaired. If it isto remain as it is, it ought to be gently and reverently set aside amongthe dead languages, for only the dead have time to learn it.
A FOURTH OF JULY ORATION IN THE GERMAN TONGUE, DELIVERED AT A BANQUET OFTHE ANGLO-AMERICAN CLUB OF STUDENTS BY THE AUTHOR OF THIS BOOK
Gentlemen: Since I arrived, a month ago, in this old wonderland, thisvast garden of Germany, my English tongue has so often proved a uselesspiece of baggage to me, and so troublesome to carry around, in a countrywhere they haven't the checking system for luggage, that I finally setto work, and learned the German language. Also! Es freut mich dass diesso ist, denn es muss, in ein hauptsaechlich degree, hoeflich sein, dassman auf ein occasion like this, sein Rede in die Sprache des Landesworin he boards, aussprechen soll. Dafuer habe ich, aus reinischeVerlegenheit--no, Vergangenheit--no, I mean Hoeflichkeit--aus reinisheHoeflichkeit habe ich resolved to tackle this business in the Germanlanguage, um Gottes willen! Also! Sie muessen so freundlich sein, undverzeih mich die interlarding von ein oder zwei Englischer Worte, hieund da, denn ich finde dass die deutsche is not a very copious language,and so when you've really got anything to say, you've got to draw on alanguage that can stand the strain.
Wenn haber man kann nicht meinem Rede Verstehen, so werde ich ihm spaeterdasselbe uebersetz, wenn er solche Dienst verlangen wollen haben werdensollen sein haette. (I don't know what wollen haben werden sollen seinhaette means, but I notice they always put it at the end of a Germansentence--merely for general literary gorgeousness, I suppose.)
This is a great and justly honored day--a day which is worthy of theveneration in which it is held by the true patriots of all climes andnationalities--a day which offers a fruitful theme for thought andspeech; und meinem Freunde--no, meinEN FreundEN--meinES FreundES--well,take your choice, they're all the same price; I don't know which one isright--also! ich habe gehabt haben worden gewesen sein, as Goethe saysin his Paradise Lost--ich--ich--that is to say--ich--but let us changecars.
Also! Die Anblich so viele Grossbrittanischer und Amerikanischerhier zusammengetroffen in Bruderliche concord, ist zwar a welcome andinspiriting spectacle. And what has moved you to it? Can theterse German tongue rise to the expression of this impulse? Is itFreundschaftsbezeigungenstadtverordnetenversammlungenfamilieneigenthuemlichkeiten?Nein, O nein! This is a crisp and noble word, but it fails to piercethe marrow of the impulse which has gathered this friendly meeting andproduced diese Anblick--eine Anblich welche ist gut zu sehen--gut fuerdie Augen in a foreign land and a far country--eine Anblick solche alsin die gewoehnliche Heidelberger phrase nennt man ein "schoenes Aussicht!"Ja, freilich natuerlich wahrscheinlich ebensowohl! Also! Die Aussicht aufdem Koenigsstuhl mehr groesser ist, aber geistlische sprechend nichtso schoen, lob' Gott! Because sie sind hier zusammengetroffen, inBruderlichem concord, ein grossen Tag zu feirn, whose high benefits werenot for one land and one locality, but have conferred a measure ofgood upon all lands that know liberty today, and love it. Hundert Jahrevorueber, waren die Englaender und die Amerikaner Feinde; aber heut sindsie herzlichen Freunde, Gott sei Dank! May this good-fellowship endure;may these banners here blended in amity so remain; may they neverany more wave over opposing hosts, or be stained with blood which waskindred, is kindred, and always will be kindred, until a line drawn upona map shall be able to say: "THIS bars the ancestral blood from flowingin the veins of the descendant!"
APPENDIX E.
Legend of the Castles Called the "Swallow's Nest" and "The Brothers," asCondensed from the Captain's Tale
In the neighborhood of three hundred years ago the Swallow's Nest andthe larger castle between it and Neckarsteinach were owned and occupiedby two old knights who were twin brothers, and bachelors. They had norelatives. They were very rich. They had fought through the wars andretired to private life--covered with honorable scars. They were honest,honorable men in their dealings, but the people had given them a coupleof nicknames which were very suggestive--Herr Givenaught and HerrHeartless. The old k
nights were so proud of these names that if aburgher called them by their right ones they would correct them.
The most renowned scholar in Europe, at the time, was the Herr DoctorFranz Reikmann, who lived in Heidelberg. All Germany was proud of thevenerable scholar, who lived in the simplest way, for great scholars arealways poor. He was poor, as to money, but very rich in his sweet youngdaughter Hildegarde and his library. He had been all his life collectinghis library, book and book, and he lived it as a miser loves his hoardedgold. He said the two strings of his heart were rooted, the one in hisdaughter, the other in his books; and that if either were severed hemust die. Now in an evil hour, hoping to win a marriage portion for hischild, this simple old man had intrusted his small savings to a sharperto be ventured in a glittering speculation. But that was not the worstof it: he signed a paper--without reading it. That is the way with poetsand scholars; they always sign without reading. This cunning paper madehim responsible for heaps of things. The rest was that one night hefound himself in debt to the sharper eight thousand pieces of gold!--anamount so prodigious that it simply stupefied him to think of it. It wasa night of woe in that house.
"I must part with my library--I have nothing else. So perishes oneheartstring," said the old man.
"What will it bring, father?" asked the girl.
"Nothing! It is worth seven hundred pieces of gold; but by auction itwill go for little or nothing."
"Then you will have parted with the half of your heart and the joy ofyour life to no purpose, since so mighty a burden of debt will remainbehind."
"There is no help for it, my child. Our darlings must pass under thehammer. We must pay what we can."
"My father, I have a feeling that the dear Virgin will come to our help.Let us not lose heart."
"She cannot devise a miracle that will turn NOTHING into eight thousandgold pieces, and lesser help will bring us little peace."
"She can do even greater things, my father. She will save us, I know shewill."
Toward morning, while the old man sat exhausted and asleep in his chairwhere he had been sitting before his books as one who watches by hisbeloved dead and prints the features on his memory for a solace in theaftertime of empty desolation, his daughter sprang into the room andgently woke him, saying--
"My presentiment was true! She will save us. Three times has sheappeared to me in my dreams, and said, 'Go to the Herr Givenaught, go tothe Herr Heartless, ask them to come and bid.' There, did I not tell youshe would save us, the thrice blessed Virgin!"
Sad as the old man was, he was obliged to laugh.
"Thou mightest as well appeal to the rocks their castles stand upon asto the harder ones that lie in those men's breasts, my child. THEY bidon books writ in the learned tongues!--they can scarce read their own."
But Hildegarde's faith was in no wise shaken. Bright and early she wason her way up the Neckar road, as joyous as a bird.
Meantime Herr Givenaught and Herr Heartless were having an earlybreakfast in the former's castle--the Sparrow's Nest--and flavoringit with a quarrel; for although these twins bore a love for each otherwhich almost amounted to worship, there was one subject upon which theycould not touch without calling each other hard names--and yet it wasthe subject which they oftenest touched upon.
"I tell you," said Givenaught, "you will beggar yourself yet with yourinsane squanderings of money upon what you choose to consider poor andworthy objects. All these years I have implored you to stop this foolishcustom and husband your means, but all in vain. You are always lyingto me about these secret benevolences, but you never have managed todeceive me yet. Every time a poor devil has been set upon his feet Ihave detected your hand in it--incorrigible ass!"
"Every time you didn't set him on his feet yourself, you mean. Where Igive one unfortunate a little private lift, you do the same for a dozen.The idea of YOUR swelling around the country and petting yourself withthe nickname of Givenaught--intolerable humbug! Before I would be sucha fraud as that, I would cut my right hand off. Your life is a continuallie. But go on, I have tried MY best to save you from beggaring yourselfby your riotous charities--now for the thousandth time I wash my handsof the consequences. A maundering old fool! that's what you are."
"And you a blethering old idiot!" roared Givenaught, springing up.
"I won't stay in the presence of a man who has no more delicacy than tocall me such names. Mannerless swine!"
So saying, Herr Heartless sprang up in a passion. But some luckyaccident intervened, as usual, to change the subject, and the dailyquarrel ended in the customary daily living reconciliation. Thegray-headed old eccentrics parted, and Herr Heartless walked off to hisown castle.
Half an hour later, Hildegarde was standing in the presence of HerrGivenaught. He heard her story, and said--
"I am sorry for you, my child, but I am very poor, I care nothing forbookish rubbish, I shall not be there."
He said the hard words kindly, but they nearly broke poor Hildegarde'sheart, nevertheless. When she was gone the old heartbreaker muttered,rubbing his hands--
"It was a good stroke. I have saved my brother's pocket this time,in spite of him. Nothing else would have prevented his rushing off torescue the old scholar, the pride of Germany, from his trouble. The poorchild won't venture near HIM after the rebuff she has received from hisbrother the Givenaught."
But he was mistaken. The Virgin had commanded, and Hildegarde wouldobey. She went to Herr Heartless and told her story. But he saidcoldly--
"I am very poor, my child, and books are nothing to me. I wish you well,but I shall not come."
When Hildegarde was gone, he chuckled and said--
"How my fool of a soft-headed soft-hearted brother would rage if he knewhow cunningly I have saved his pocket. How he would have flown to theold man's rescue! But the girl won't venture near him now."
When Hildegarde reached home, her father asked her how she hadprospered. She said--
"The Virgin has promised, and she will keep her word; but not in the wayI thought. She knows her own ways, and they are best."
The old man patted her on the head, and smiled a doubting smile, but hehonored her for her brave faith, nevertheless.
II
Next day the people assembled in the great hall of the Ritter tavern,to witness the auction--for the proprietor had said the treasure ofGermany's most honored son should be bartered away in no meaner place.Hildegarde and her father sat close to the books, silent and sorrowful,and holding each other's hands. There was a great crowd of peoplepresent. The bidding began--
"How much for this precious library, just as it stands, all complete?"called the auctioneer.
"Fifty pieces of gold!"
"A hundred!"
"Two hundred."
"Three!"
"Four!"
"Five hundred!"
"Five twenty-five."
A brief pause.
"Five forty!"
A longer pause, while the auctioneer redoubled his persuasions.
"Five-forty-five!"
A heavy drag--the auctioneer persuaded, pleaded, implored--it wasuseless, everybody remained silent--
"Well, then--going, going--one--two--"
"Five hundred and fifty!"
This in a shrill voice, from a bent old man, all hung with rags, andwith a green patch over his left eye. Everybody in his vicinityturned and gazed at him. It was Givenaught in disguise. He was using adisguised voice, too.
"Good!" cried the auctioneer. "Going, going--one--two--"
"Five hundred and sixty!"
This, in a deep, harsh voice, from the midst of the crowd at the otherend of the room. The people near by turned, and saw an old man, in astrange costume, supporting himself on crutches. He wore a long whitebeard, and blue spectacles. It was Herr Heartless, in disguise, andusing a disguised voice.
"Good again! Going, going--one--"
"Six hundred!"
Sensation. The crowd raised a cheer, and some one cried out, "Go it,Green-patch
!" This tickled the audience and a score of voices shouted,"Go it, Green-patch!"
"Going--going--going--third and last call--one--two--"
"Seven hundred!"
"Huzzah!--well done, Crutches!" cried a voice. The crowd took it up, andshouted altogether, "Well done, Crutches!"
"Splendid, gentlemen! you are doing magnificently. Going, going--"
"A thousand!"
"Three cheers for Green-patch! Up and at him, Crutches!"
"Going--going--"
"Two thousand!"
And while the people cheered and shouted, "Crutches" muttered, "Who canthis devil be that is fighting so to get these useless books?--But nomatter, he sha'n't have them. The pride of Germany shall have his booksif it beggars me to buy them for him."
"Going, going, going--"
"Three thousand!"
"Come, everybody--give a rouser for Green-patch!"
And while they did it, "Green-patch" muttered, "This cripple is plainlya lunatic; but the old scholar shall have his books, nevertheless,though my pocket sweat for it."
"Going--going--"
"Four thousand!"
"Huzza!"
"Five thousand!"
"Huzza!"
"Six thousand!"
"Huzza!"
"Seven thousand!"
"Huzza!"
"EIGHT thousand!"
"We are saved, father! I told you the Holy Virgin would keep her word!""Blessed be her sacred name!" said the old scholar, with emotion. Thecrowd roared, "Huzza, huzza, huzza--at him again, Green-patch!"