of Mar, canon of Aberdeen, giving him lands in Garioch with all its rightful customs and just pertinents etc, together with lege Fleminga which is called"Fleming lauch"?. "5 This suggests that as late as the mid -fourteenth century there still survived in north-east Scotland a community with sufficiently distinctive local traits or customs to be identified as Flemish. At present, however, there seems no way to tell what these traits or customs may have been, or what they may have contributed to the development of Scots law. However, some traces of low Country links may have been left in the Scots language, words such as golf? scone croon(sing softly ) dowp'(buttocks), 'pinkie(little finger), redd'(tidy up), mutch mans cap),"loun'(rogue, lad ) callant(lad) and"bucht(sheep-pen) apparently havin borrowed from Dutch at different times before 1600 6 It was thought about these med ieval matters and the connections between the low Countries and Scotland in the development of the ius commune, old and new, that first provided me with the theme I wish to develop a little today. The thoughts were further reinforced a few weeks ago in the appropriate setting of Maastricht when I was a member of a panel of about ten persons, six of whom were Germans, three Dutch and one(me)a Scot; yet our language for the purposes of the panel was English, an issue about which I was reproached -quite rightly -later in the conference when discussing the meaning of the word principles. That in turn brought to mind a debate that has occasionally surfaced in the proceedings of the Commission on European Contract Law, where the language is generally English but French is also officially allowed How far is a common language a prerequisite of a common law? If so, how far does the choice of language then dictate the substantive outcome of the rules to be the common law? Scotland may not appear to be the most obvious place in which to start such a discussion to which they give rise, might seem much more likely to prove fertile territory for exploration s the rich linguistic complexities of the Low Countries, and the intense political and legal debate Yet Scotland is not so monoglot as might be thought from a distance. Certainly English is the dominant language of public and private discourse, but the Scots vernacular, springing ultimately from the old or Middle English of the Anglo-Saxons who were penetrating south-east Scotland from the seventh century on, has a good claim to be something more than a variant or dialect of standard modern English, in terms of both vocabulary and syntax, even before one begins to take its regional differences into account. Then there is gaelic, the language of the Highlands and Islands, now mostly confined to the Western isles as a first tongue but also enjoying something of a revival in cities such as Edinburgh and Glasgow(there is a Gaelic-speaking playgroup near where I live). Finally, there are the diverse languages of the immigrant communities, in particular Urdu. Sometimes the languages, or their supporters, come into political conflict reminiscent of the late medieval ' Flyting of Dunbar and Kennedie'(a lively exchange of vol 1, app. 1, no. 128; see also ibid. app 2, no. 1297. The lands granted were called d as modern Courtestown, near Leslie, Aberdeenshire, in K.J. Stringer, Earl David oj Huntingdon /l A Studyin Anglo-Scottish History (Edinburgh, 1985),p. 84) 6 See D. Murison, The Dutch Element in the Vocabulary of Scots', in Edinburgh Studies in English and Scots,ed. A.J. Aitken et al.(London, 1971), pp. 159-76 Note that in the modem New Testament in Scots by W.L. Lorimer(Edinburgh, 1985 )the Devil alone speaks in standard Englishof Mar, canon of Aberdeen, giving him lands in Garioch ‘with all its rightful customs and just pertinents etc, together with lege Fleminga which is called “Fleming lauch”.’5 This suggests that as late as the mid-fourteenth century there still survived in north-east Scotland a community with sufficiently distinctive local traits or customs to be identified as Flemish. At present, however, there seems no way to tell what these traits or customs may have been, or what they may have contributed to the development of Scots law. However, some traces of Low Country links may have been left in the Scots language, words such as ‘golf’, ‘scone’, ‘croon’ (sing softly), ‘dowp’ (buttocks), ‘pinkie’ (little finger), ‘redd’ (tidy up), ‘mutch’ (woman’s cap), ‘loun’ (rogue, lad), ‘callant’ (lad) and ‘bucht’ (sheep-pen) apparently having been borrowed from Dutch at different times before 1600.6 It was thought about these medieval matters and the connections between the Low Countries and Scotland in the development of the ius commune, old and new, that first provided me with the theme I wish to develop a little today. The thoughts were further reinforced a few weeks ago in the appropriate setting of Maastricht when I was a member of a panel of about ten persons, six of whom were Germans, three Dutch and one (me) a Scot; yet our language for the purposes of the panel was English, an issue about which I was reproached - quite rightly - later in the conference when discussing the meaning of the word ‘principles’. That in turn brought to mind a debate that has occasionally surfaced in the proceedings of the Commission on European Contract Law, where the language is generally English but French is also officially allowed. How far is a common language a prerequisite of a common law? If so, how far does the choice of language then dictate the substantive outcome of the rules to be the common law? Scotland may not appear to be the most obvious place in which to start such a discussion; the rich linguistic complexities of the Low Countries, and the intense political and legal debates to which they give rise, might seem much more likely to prove fertile territory for exploration. Yet Scotland is not so monoglot as might be thought from a distance. Certainly English is the dominant language of public and private discourse, but the Scots vernacular, springing ultimately from the Old or Middle English of the Anglo-Saxons who were penetrating south-east Scotland from the seventh century on, has a good claim to be something more than a variant or dialect of standard modern English, in terms of both vocabulary and syntax, even before one begins to take its regional differences into account.7 Then there is Gaelic, the language of the Highlands and Islands, now mostly confined to the Western Isles as a first tongue but also enjoying something of a revival in cities such as Edinburgh and Glasgow (there is a Gaelic-speaking playgroup near where I live). Finally, there are the diverse languages of the immigrant communities, in particular Urdu. Sometimes the languages, or their supporters, come into political conflict reminiscent of the late medieval ‘Flyting of Dunbar and Kennedie’ (a lively exchange of 5 Reg. Mag. Sig., vol. 1, app. 1, no. 128; see also ibid., app. 2, no. 1297. The lands granted were called ‘Cruceristoun’ (identified as modern Courtestown, near Leslie, Aberdeenshire, in K.J. Stringer, Earl David of Huntingdon 1152-1219: A Study in Anglo-Scottish History (Edinburgh, 1985), p. 84). 6 See D. Murison, ‘The Dutch Element in the Vocabulary of Scots’, in Edinburgh Studies in English and Scots, ed. A.J. Aitken et al. (London, 1971), pp. 159-76. 7 Note that in the modern New Testament in Scots by W.L. Lorimer (Edinburgh, 1985) the Devil alone speaks in standard English