Journal: Bibliotheca Sacra
Volume: BSAC 30:117 (Jan 1873)
Article: The Chinese Language
Author: John Edgar Johnson

BSac 30:117 (Jan 1873) p. 62

The Chinese Language

John Edgar Johnson

The Chinese is a language by itself, perfectly unique. It is the only specimen of a purely primitive tongue that now remains to us, and for this reason, if for no other, possesses great interest for the student of philology. It is just such a language as two persons would probably devise if thrown together in a desert, neither ever having seen a human being before. It is to be regretted that, whereas the manners, customs, and religion of the Chinese are dwelt upon at great length by our book-makers and letter-writers, little or no interest is manifested in the language of a people who number more than a third of the entire population of the globe.

We shall never be able to understand the Chinese, until we know more of their language. Our great ignorance in this respect is the cause of nine tenths of our prejudice against and distrust of them. This is not strange. Indeed, it is always so. Englishmen and Americans, travelling upon the continent of Europe, are apt to bring home a favorable or unfavorable opinion of the people in France, Germany, and Italy, just as they happen to be conversant with or ignorant of the languages spoken in those countries. To the former, especially, everything that is not English falls under the contemptuous and comprehensive head of “gibberish.” The writer of this once met an Englishman in a

BSac 30:117 (Jan 1873) p. 63

crowded beer-garden at Munich. After exchanging a few words, the Briton leaned over the table, and said, with a significant leer: “Do you speak the Japanese?” The conversation going on about us was to him a jargon; and it is needless to observe that he entertained a very unfavorable opinion of a people who could not speak what he chose to call “God Almighty’s English.” And I confess that, some months earlier, I had often looked at a German, who was speaking rapidly, with much the same feeling as one has when staring at some wild animal in a menagerie, wondering inwardly if he had a soul like another man, and if, before God, I should be guilty of murder in case I put a bullet through his head. And so it happens that writers for the newspapers, who ricochet around the world, ignorant of every language but their own, when they come to China are impressed with the oddity of everything; and, unable to communicate with the better class of people, receive all of their impressions concerning the country from the washerwomen and hucksters, who speak “pigeon English,” and who do not mean to speak it for nothing. It is not strange that their letters, under such circumstances, usually give the Chinese a poor reputation for honesty. On the other hand, all missionaries and other persons who remain long enough in the country to acquire even a slight k...