The third accident of a noun is case, (casus, or fall,) so
called because ancient grammarians, it is said, represented
the cases as declining or falling from the nominative, which
was represented by a perpendicular, and thence called Casus
rectus, or upright case, while the others were named Casus
obliqui, or oblique cases. The cases, in the languages of
Greece and Rome, were formed by varying the termination;
and were intended to express a few of the most obvious and
common relations.
In English there are only three cases, nominative, genitive,
and objective, or accusative case. In substantives the
nominative case and the objective, have, like neuter nouns in
Greek and Latin, the same form, being distinguishable from
each other by nothing but their place; thus,
| Nom. |
Obj. |
| Achilles slew Hector, |
| Hector slew Achilles, |
where the meaning is reversed by the interchange of the
nouns, the nominative or agent being known by its being
placed before the verb; and the subject of the action by its
following it. Pronouns have three cases, that is, two inflexions
from the nominative, as, I, mine, me; thou, thine,
thee.
The genitive in English, by some called the possessive
case, is formed by adding to the nominative the letter s,
with an apostrophe before it, as king, king’s. It expresses
a variety of relations, and was hence called by the Greeks
the general case[18]. The relation which it most commonly
denotes is that of property or possession, as, the king’s
crown; and is, in general, the same with that which is denoted
by the word of, as, the crown of the king, the rage of
the tyrant, the death of the prince, equivalent to the king’s
crown, the tyrant’s rage, the prince’s death.
The nature of the relation which the genitive expresses
must, in some instances, be collected from the scope of the
context; for, in English, as in most other languages, this
case frequently involves an ambiguity. When I say,
“neither life nor death shall separate us from the love of
God,” it may mean, either from the love which we owe to
God, or the love which he bears to us; for “God’s love”
may denote either the relation which the affection bears
to its subject, or that which it bears to its object. If the
latter be the meaning intended, the ambiguity may be prevented
by saying, “love to God.”
An ambiguity likewise arises from it, as expressing either
the relation of the effect to its cause, or that of the accident
to its subject. “A little after the reformation of Luther,”
says Swift. This may import either the change produced by
Luther, or a change produced in him. The latter indeed
is properly the meaning, though not that which was intended
by the author. He should have said, “the reformation by
Luther.” It is clear, therefore, that the relation expressed
by the genitive is not uniformly the same, that the phrase
may be interpreted either in an active or passive sense[19], and
that the real import must be collected not from the expression,
but the context.
Mr. Harris has said, that the genitive is formed to express
all relations commencing from itself, and offers the analysis
of this case in all modern languages as a proof. That it expresses
more than this, both in English and Latin, and that
it denotes relations, not only commencing from itself, but
likewise directed to itself, the examples already quoted are
sufficient to prove. Nay, were it necessary, it would be easy
to demonstrate, that this ambiguity in the use of the genitive
is not confined to these two languages, but is found in Greek,
Hebrew, Italian, and, I believe, in all the modern languages
of Europe.
Concerning the origin of the English genitive, grammarians
and critics are not agreed. That the cases, or nominal
inflexions, in all languages were originally formed by annexing
to the noun in its simple form a word significant of the
relation intended, is a doctrine which, I conceive, is not only
approved by reason, but also attested by fact. That any
people, indeed, in framing their language, should affix to
their nouns insignificant terminations, for the purpose of
expressing any relation, is a theory extremely improbable.
Numerous as the inflexions are in the Greek and Latin languages,
I am persuaded that, were we sufficiently acquainted
with their original structure, we should find that all these
terminations were at first words significant, subjoined to the
radix, and afterwards abbreviated. This opinion is corroborated
by the structure of the Hebrew, and some other
oriental languages, whose affixes and prefixes, in the formation
of their cases and conjugation of their verbs, we can
still ascertain.
Now the English genitive being formed by annexing to
the nominative the letter s, with an apostrophe, several
critics, among whom is Mr. Addison, deliver it as their
opinion, that this termination is a contraction for the possessive
pronoun his. This opinion appears to be countenanced
by the examples which occur in the Bible, and Book of
Common Prayer, in which, instead of the English genitive,
we find the nominative with the possessive pronoun masculine
of the third person; thus, “for Christ his sake,” “Asa his
heart was perfect.” Dr. Lowth considers these expressions
as errors either of the printers or the authors. That they are
not typographical mistakes I am fully persuaded. They occur
in the books now mentioned, and also in the works of
Bacon, Donne, and many other writers, much too frequently
to admit this supposition. If errors, therefore, they are errors
not of the printers, but of the authors themselves.
To evince the incorrectness of this phraseology, and to
show that Addison’s opinion is erroneous, Dr. Lowth observes
that, though we can resolve “the king’s crown” into “the king
his crown,” we cannot resolve “the queen’s crown” into
“the queen her crown,” or “the children’s bread” into “the
children their bread.” This fact, he observes, ought to have
demonstrated to Mr. Addison the incorrectness of his opinion.
Lowth, therefore, refers the English to the Saxon genitive
for its real origin, and observes, that its derivation from that
genitive decides the question[20]. Hickes, in his Thesaurus,
had previously delivered the same opinion. Speaking of the
Anglo-Saxon genitive in es, he observes, “Inde in nostratium
sermone nominum substantivorum, genitivus singularis, et
nominativus pluralis, exeunt in es, vel s.” From the introduction
of the Saxons into this island, to the Norman conquest,
the Saxon genitive was in universal use. From the
latter period to the time of Henry II. (1170), though the
English language underwent some alterations, we still find
the Saxon genitive. Thus, in a poem, entitled “The Life of
St. Margaret,” in the Normanno-Saxon dialect, we find the
following among other examples, “chrisꞇes angles,” and the
pronoun hyꞅ (his) spelled is; thus, “Theodosius was is
name.”—See Hickes, Thes. vol. i. p. 226.
Webster has asserted that, in the age of Edward the Confessor
(1050), he does not find the Saxon genitive; and as a
proof that the pronoun his was used instead of the Saxon
termination, he quotes a passage from a charter of Edward
the Confessor, where the words, “bissop his land” occur,
which he conceives to be equivalent to “bishop’s land.”
Now, had he read but a small part of that charter, he would
have found the Saxon genitive; and what he imagines to be
equivalent to the English genitive is neither that case, nor
synonymous with it. The passage runs thus: “And ich ke
þe eu þat Alfred havet iseld Gise bissop his land at Llyton;”
the meaning of which is, “Know that Alfred hath sold to
Bishop Gise his land at Lutton.” In the time of Richard
II. (1385) we find Trevisa and Chaucer using the Saxon
genitive. Thus, in Trevisa’s translation of the Athanasian
creed, we find among other examples, “Godes sight.”
In Gavin Douglas, who lived in the beginning of the
sixteenth century, we find is instead of es, thus, faderis hands.
In the time of Henry the Eighth we find, in the works of
Sir T. More, both the Saxon and the English genitive; and in
a letter, written in 1559, by Maitland of Lethington, the English
genitive frequently occurs. Had this genitive, then,
been an abbreviation for the noun and the pronoun his, the
use of the words separately would have preceded their abbreviated
form in composition. This, however, was not the
case.
To form the genitive plural, we annex the apostrophe
without the letter s, as eagles’ wings, that is, the wings of
eagles. The genitive singular of nouns terminating in s, is
formed in the same manner, as, righteousness’ sake, or the
sake of righteousness.
I finish this article with observing, that there are in English
a few diminutive nouns, so called from their expressing
a small one of the kind. Some of these end in kin, from a
Dutch and Teutonic word signifying a child, as manikin, a
little man, lambkin, pipkin, thomkin. Proper names ending
in kin belonged originally to this class of diminutives, as, Wilkin,
Willielmulus; Halkin, Hawkin, Henriculus; Tomkin,
Thomulus; Simkin, Peterkin, &c.
Some diminutives end in ock, as, hill, hillock; bull, bullock;
some in el, as pike, pickrel; cock, cockrel; sack, satchel;
some in ing, as goose, gosling. These seem to be the only
legitimate ones, as properly belonging to our language. The
rest are derived from Latin, French, Italian, and have various
terminations.
Language is chiefly composed of general terms, most substantives
being the names of genera or species. When we
find a number of substances resembling one another in their
principal and most obvious qualities, we refer them to one
species, to which we assign a name common to every individual
of that species. In like manner, when we find
several of these species resembling one another in their chief
properties, we refer them to a higher order, to which also we
assign a common and more general name than that which
was affixed to the inferior class. Thus we assign the general
name man to the human species, as possessing a common
form, and distinguished by the common attributes of life,
reason, and speech. If we consider man as possessed of life
only, we perceive a resemblance in this respect between him
and other beings. To this higher class or genus, the characteristic
attribute of which is vitality, we affix the more
generic name of animal[21]. Hence, when we use an appellative
or common noun, it denotes the genus or class collectively,
of which it is the name, as,
“The proper study of mankind is man,” i.e. not one man,
not many men, but all men.
Not only, however, has this rule its limitations, though
these seem governed by no fixed principle, but we frequently
find the articles admitted when the whole genus or species is
evidently implied. Thus we may say,
“Metal is specifically heavier than water;” i.e. not this
or that metal, but all metals. But we cannot say, “Vegetable
is specifically lighter than water;” or, “Mineral is
specifically heavier than water.” Again; we say, “Man is
born unto trouble;” but we cannot say, “Tiger is ferocious,”
or, “Fox is cunning;” but, “The tiger, or a tiger, is ferocious;”
“The fox, or a fox, is cunning;” the expressions
being applicable to the whole species. It would appear, indeed,
that when proper names assume the office of appellatives,
the reverse of the rule takes place. Thus we say,
“A Douglas braves the pointed steel;” the meaning being
“every Douglas.” Suppress the indefinite article, and the
general proposition becomes individual.
But, though our words are general, all our perceptions are
individual, having single existences for their objects. It is
often necessary, however, to express two, three, or more of
these individual existences; and hence arises the use of that
species of words which have been called numerals, that is,
words denoting number. To signify unity or one of a class,
our forefathers employed ae or ane, as ae man, ane ox.
When unity, or the number one, as opposed to two or more,
was to be expressed, the emphasis would naturally be laid
on the word significant of unity; and when unity was not
so much the object as the species or kind, the term expressive
of unity would naturally be unemphatical; and hence
ae, by celerity of pronunciation, would become a, and ane
be shortened into an. These words a and an are now termed
indefinite articles; it is clear, however, that they are truly
numerals, belonging to the same class with two, three, four,
&c.; or, perhaps, more properly, these numerals may be considered
as abbreviations for the repeated expression of the
term one. By whatever name these terms, a, an, may be designed,
it seems evident that they were originally synonymous
with the name of unity, or rather themselves names of unity,
emphasis only distinguishing whether unity or the species
were chiefly intended. Hence a and an cannot be joined
with a plural noun.
Some grammarians, indeed, have asserted that in every
example where a or an occurs, the term one may be substituted
in its stead, without in the least degree injuring the
sense. As far as the primary idea denoted by these words
is concerned, this opinion is doubtless incontrovertible, for
they each express unity; but with regard to the secondary
or implied ideas which these terms convey, the difference is
obvious. An example will illustrate this: If I say, “Will
one man be able to carry this burden so far?” I evidently
oppose one to more: and the answer might be, “No; but
two men will.” Let us substitute the term a, and say,
“Will a man be able to carry this burden?” Is the idea
nowise changed by this alteration? I apprehend it is; for
the answer might naturally be, “No; but a horse will.” I
have here substituted a, for one; the converse will equally
show that the terms are by no means mutually convertible,
or strictly synonymous. If, instead of saying, “A horse, a
horse, a kingdom for a horse,” I should say, “One horse, one
horse, one kingdom for one horse,” the sentiment, I conceive,
would not be strictly the same. In both expressions the
species is named, and in both one of that species is demanded;
but with this difference, that in the former the
name of the species is the emphatic word, and it opposes
that species to every other; in the latter, unity of object
seems the leading idea, “one kingdom for one horse.” In
this respect, our language appears to me to have a decided
superiority over those languages where one word performs the
office of what we term an article, and at the same time denotes
the idea of unity. Donnez-moi un livre means either
“give me one book,” i.e. not two or more books; or “give
me a book,” that is, “a book, not something else; a book, not
a pen,” for example.
I acknowledge that, in oral language, emphasis may serve
to discriminate the sentiments, and prevent ambiguity. But
emphasis is addressed to the ear only, not to the eye; it can,
therefore, be of no service in written language. It is true
also, that by attending to the context, error may often be
avoided; but let it be remembered, as Quintilian observes[22],
that language should be, not such as the reader may understand
if he will take the trouble to examine it carefully, but
such as he cannot even without effort fail to comprehend.
When it is asserted, therefore, that one may in every case be
substituted for a, without in the least degree injuring the expression,
the position appears to me erroneous and false.
Whatever creates ambiguity, whether with respect to the
primary or secondary ideas annexed to words, in some degree,
without question, violates the sense. Be it observed also,
that, though a, an, ae, ane, one, may have been all etymologically
the same, it does not follow, nor is it practically true,
as has been now shown, that they are all precisely equivalent
words. In Scotland, the distinction between a and ae is well
known. “Give me a book,” means any book, in contradistinction
to any other object, as “a chair,” “a pen,” “a knife;”
“give me ae book,” is in contradistinction to one or more.
Such also is the difference between a and one.
It seems, therefore, undeniable that the word a, termed the
indefinite article, was originally identical with the name of
unity, expressing either one of any species, as opposed to
more of that species, or one of this kind, as opposed to one
of that. Whether the distinction of its noting one or unity,
with less emphasis than the appropriate name of unity,
should entitle it to be referred to a different class of words
from the numeral one, and called an article, it is unimportant
to inquire. To me, however, I must acknowledge the distinctive
name of article assigned to this word appears to be
useless. Were emphasis to be admitted as the principle of
classification, (and I see no other distinction between a and
one,) the parts of speech might be multiplied beyond number.
Besides the words a and an, termed indefinite articles, as
not defining which of the species is signified, we have also
another word, the, named the definite article, because it is
said to point out the individual object. This word, I doubt
not, proceeded from the word this or that, much in the same
manner as a and an from ae and ane. To what class of
words this and that should be referred has been a subject of
controversy[23]. That they are not pronouns, as some have
asserted, seems abundantly evident; for they never represent
a noun. By some they have been called definitives; and,
though this designation be not strictly consonant with their
import, it is perhaps the least exceptionable. When opposed
to each other, they appear to be reducible to that species of
words termed adjectives of order; the only difference between
them and ordinary numerals being this, that the former express
the arrangement in relation to two objects, the latter in
relation to a series. This means “the nearer,” “the latter,”
or “the second;” that, “the more remote,” “the former,” or
“the first.” Their office, in general, seems to be emphatically
to individuate some particular object whose character
was either previously known, or is then described; hence
they have also been named demonstratives. Under which of
the generally received parts of speech they should be comprehended
it may be difficult to determine. As, like simple
attributives they accord with nouns, frequently denoting the
accident of place, they may be grammatically referred to the
class of adjectives. Their import will appear from a few examples.
“That kind Being who is a father to the fatherless, will
recompense thee for this.”
Here a species is referred to, distinguished by benevolence.
Of this species one individual is emphatically particularized:
“That kind being.” Who? his distinctive character follows,
“is a father to the fatherless.” The concluding word this,
points to something previously described.
“—— ’T was idly done
To tell him of another world; for wits
Knew better; and the only good on earth
Was pleasure; not to follow that was sin.”
Here the word that refers with emphasis to a thing previously
specified, namely, pleasure.
“It is no uncommon thing to find a man who laughs at
everything sacred, yet is a slave to superstitious fears. I
would not be that man, were a crown to tempt me.” Here
one indefinitely of a species is mentioned, a man. The subject
is afterwards limited by description to one of a certain
character, “who laughs at things sacred, and is a slave to
superstitious fears.” The word that selects and demonstrates
the person thus described. The word the has nearly the
same import; but is less emphatical. It seems to bear the
same analogy to that, which a does to one. Hence in many
cases they may be used indifferently.
“Happy the man whose cautious feet shun the broad way
that sinners go.”
Here, “happy that man” would express the same idea.
The Latins accordingly employed the demonstrative word
ille; beatus ille, “happy the man.”
What, then, is the difference between the and that? To
ascertain this, let us inquire, in what cases the is employed,
and whether that can be substituted in its stead.
The word the is employed,
1st, When we express an object of eminence or notoriety,
or the only one of a kind in which we are interested, as,
“the king,” when we mean “the king of England.” “He
was concerned in bringing about the revolution,” when we
mean the revolution in this country. “Virgil copied the
Grecian bard,” or “Homer.” “I am going to the city,”
when I mean “London.” In none of these cases can we
substitute that for the, without laying a particular emphasis
on the subject, and implying that its character is there described
in contradistinction to some other of the same
species. Thus, “he was concerned in that revolution, which
was accomplished by the English barons.” “He copied
that Grecian bard, who disputes the claim of antiquity with
Homer.”
2dly, We employ it in expressing objects of repeated perception,
or subjects of previous conversation. I borrow an
example from Harris. If I see, for the first time, a man with
a long beard, I say, “there goes a man with a long beard.”
If I see him again, I say, “there goes the man with the
long beard.” Were the word that substituted for the, the
same observation would be applicable as in the preceding
examples.
3dly, Mr. Harris has said, that the article a is used to express
objects of
primary perception, and the employed to
denote those only of secondary perception. This opinion is
controverted by the author of the article Grammar in the
Encyclopedia Britannica, Ed. 3d. who gives the following
example to disprove its truth. “I am in company, and finding
the room warm, I say to the servant, Request the gentleman
in the window seat (to whom I am an entire stranger)
to draw down the sash.” The example is apposite, and is
sufficient to overturn the hypothesis of Mr. Harris. There
can be no question but the is frequently employed to denote
objects of primary perception; and merely particularizes, by
some discriminating circumstance, an individual whose
character, person, or distinctive qualities, were previously
unknown. In the example now quoted, that may be substituted
for the, if we say, “who is in the window seat.”
4thly, The definite article is used to distinguish the explicative
from the determinative sense. In the former case
it is rarely employed: in the latter it should never be omitted,
unless when something still more definite supplies its place.
“Man, who is born of a woman, is of few days, and full of
trouble.” Here the relative clause is explicative, and not
restrictive; all men being “born of a woman;” the definite
article therefore is not employed. “The man” would imply
that all men are not thus born; and would confine the predicating
clause to those who are. In the latter sense, that
may, without any alteration in the phraseology, be substituted
for the article; for the man, and that man, are in this
instance equivalent.
5thly, The definite article is often used to denote the
measure of excess. “The more you study, the more learned
you will become;” that is, “by how much the more you
study, by so much the more learned you will become.”
“The wiser, the better;” “that (by that) wiser, that (by that)
better.” There also that and the may be considered as
equivalent; and the Latins accordingly said “eo melior.”
From the preceding examples and observations it must
appear, that the definite article, and the word that, though
not strictly synonymous, are words nearly of the same import.
Their difference seems to be,
1st, That the article the, like a, must have a substantive
conjoined with it; whereas that, like one, may have it understood.
Speaking of books, I may select one and say, “give
me that,” but not “give me the;” “give me one,” but not
“give me a.” Here the analogy holds between a and one,
the and that.
2dly, As the difference between a and one seems to be,
that one denotes unity in contradistinction to more, with
greater emphasis than a, so the distinction in general between
the and that is, that the latter marks the object more emphatically
than the former, being indirectly opposed to this.
I cannot say, “there goes that man with that long beard,”
without implying a contrast with “this man with this long
beard,” the word that being always emphatical and discriminative.
The opinion here offered, respecting these words, receives
some corroboration from the following circumstances.
In Latin ille frequently supplies the place of our definite
article. “Thou art the man.” Tu es ille (iste) homo.
The le in French is clearly a derivative from ille, of which
the former syllable il expresses he, and the latter denotes
that unemphatically, serving as the definite article. From
the same source also proceed the Italian articles il, lo, la.
In Hebrew, in like manner, our definite article is expressed
by the prefix of the pronoun ille; thus, aretz, terra, “earth;”[24]
ha’aretz, illa seu hæc terra, “the earth,” the letter he abbreviated
from hou, ille, expressing the;—ashri, haish[25],
beatus ille vir, “happy the man,” or “that man,” the he in
like manner signifying the or that.
It appears to me, then, that as ae, ane, when not opposed
to more, and therefore unemphatical, by celerity of pronunciation
were changed into a, an; so that, when not opposed to
this, or when it was unemphatical, was shortened to the.
Hence, the words termed articles seem to be the name of
unity, and the demonstrative word that abbreviated.
Besides the words a, an, the, there are others which may
be considered as reducible to the same class with these; such
as this, that, any, other, same, all, one, none. This and that
I have already considered. That they are not pronouns is
evident, for they are never used as the representatives of a
noun, and always require to be associated with a substantive.
If ever they appear without this accompaniment, it will invariably
be found that the expression is elliptical, some substantive
or other being necessarily understood. If I say,
“This was a noble action.” This what? “This action.”
“This is true virtue.” This what? “This practice,” “this
habit,” “this temper.” To what class of words I conceive
them to belong has been already mentioned.
One is a word significant of unity, and cannot, without
manifest impropriety, be called a pronominal adjective;
unless, by an abuse of all language, we be disposed to name
two, three, four, pronominal adjectives.
Some is reducible to the same class, denoting an indefinite,
but, comparatively to many, a small number.
Many, few, several, are words of the same order, significant
of number indefinitely.
None, or not one, implies the negation of all number, exclusive
even of unity itself.
Other, which is improperly considered by some as a pronoun,
is the Saxon oðer coming from oððe. The Arabic
ahd, the Hebrew had, or ahad, the Saxon oððe, the Teutonic
odo, and the Swedish udda, with our English word odd,
seem all to have sprung from the same origin, the etymon expressing
“one separately,” or “one by itself,” answering
nearly to the Latin singulus. The English word odd plainly
indicates its affinity to these words. We say, “He is an odd
character,” or “singular character.” “He had some odd
ones,” that is, “some separate from the rest,” not paired, or
connected with them, “single.”[26]
“As he in soueraine dignity is odde,
So will he in loue no parting fellowes have.”
Sir T. More’s Works.
The same idea of singularity and separation is expressed
by other; which is now generally used as a comparative, and
followed by than.
Other is sometimes used substantively, and has then a
plural number, as, “Let others serve whom they will; as for
me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” The word one has
a plural number when an assemblage of units is expressed, not
in the aggregate, but individually; and then it is used as a
substantive, as, “I saw a great many fine ones.” It is also
used indefinitely, in the same sense with the French on, as,
“One would imagine these to be expressions of a man
blessed with ease.”—Atterbury. And, in using it in this
sense, it may be observed, in passing, that an error is often
committed by employing the personal pronouns as referring
to one; thus, “One is apt to exaggerate his own injuries,”
instead of “one’s own injuries.” It is sometimes, though
rarely, used as referring to a plural noun. “The Romans
and the Carthaginians now took the field; the one ambitious
of conquest, and the others in self-defence.” This mode of
expression is objectionable. We should rather say, “the
former,” and “the latter.”
Any, an, a, one, seem all to be nearly equivalent words,
and derived from one origin, I mean from ane, the name of
unity. Hence a, or an, and any, are frequently synonymous.
“A considerate man would have acted differently;” that is,
“any considerate man.” Hence also, like one, it is opposed
to none, as, “Have you a book (any book) which you can
lend me?” “None; my books are in the country; nor, if
they were here, have I any (or one) which would suit you.”
From expressing one indefinitely, like a or an, it came, by
an easy and natural transition, to denote “whatever it be,”
“what you please.” “Give me one (ane), any, no matter
which.” In this sense it corresponds to the Latin quivis or
quilibet[27] in affirmative sentences; whereas, in interrogative
or negative sentences, it corresponds to quisquam, quispiam,
or ullus. The preceding observations it may be useful to
recapitulate.
Nouns are names of genera, and not of individuals; our
perceptions are, on the contrary, all individual, not general.
Hence, to denote one or more individuals of a species, numerals,
or words significant of number, were invented. Some
express a precise number, as one, two, three; others number
indefinitely, as some, few, many, several. Our perceptions
being all individual, and one being the basis of all number,
the term significant of unity must frequently recur in expressing
our sentiments. To denote this idea our forefathers
employed ae, ane. In the progress of language, where unity
was not to be expressed, as opposed to two or more, the
terms, thus becoming unemphatical, would naturally be abbreviated
into a, an. These latter, therefore, are the offspring
of the names of unity, and belong to the class of
words named cardinal numerals. To what part of speech
these are reducible (if they can be reduced to any) it is difficult
to determine. In some languages they have the form of
adjectives; but, if their meaning be considered, it is clear
that they have no claim to this appellation, as they express
no accident, quality, or property whatever. In fact, they
appear to be a species of words totally different in character
from any of the parts of speech generally received; all of
them, except the first of the series, being abbreviations for
the name of unity repeated.
It being necessary not only to express an individual indefinitely
of any species, but also to specify and select some
particular one, which at first would probably be done by
pointing to the object, if in sight, the words this and that,
hence called demonstratives, were employed; the one to express
the nearer, the other the more distant object. From
one of these proceeded the word the, having the same relation
to its original as a or an has to the name of unity.
Hence the words synonymous with this and that, in those
languages which have no definite article, are frequently employed
to supply its place.
The use of these terms being to express any individual
whatever of a class, and likewise some certain or particular
object; we have also the words few, some, many, several, to
denote a number indefinitely, and the cardinal numerals two,
three, four, &c., a precise number of individuals.
Whether we speak of things present, or of things absent,
of ourselves, or of others, and to whomsoever we address our
discourse, the repetition of the names of those persons or
things would not only be tiresome, but also sometimes productive
of ambiguity. Besides, the name of the person addressed
may be unknown to the speaker, and the name of
the speaker may be unknown to the person addressed.
Hence appears the utility of pronouns, words, as the etymology
of the term denotes, supplying the place of nouns.
They have therefore been denominated by some grammarians,
nouns of the second order.
When the person who addresses speaks of himself, the
pronoun I, called the pronoun of the first person, is employed
instead of the name of the speaker, as, “The Lord
said to Moses, I (the Lord) am the God of Abraham.”
When the person addressed is the subject of discourse,
the pronoun thou, called the pronoun of the second person,
is used instead of his name, as, “Nathan said unto David,
Thou (David) art the man.”
When neither the person who speaks, nor the person addressed,
but some other person or thing, is the subject of
discourse, we employ the pronouns of the third person,
namely, he, she, it; as, “When Jesus saw the multitude, he
(Jesus) had compassion on them.”
I have said that pronouns are employed to prevent the
tiresome repetition of names. It is not, however, to be
hence inferred, that even the repetition of the name would, in
all cases, answer the same purpose, or denote the subject
with the same precision as the pronoun. For, as there is
hardly any name, strictly speaking, proper or peculiar to one
individual, the employment of a name, belonging to more
persons than one, would not so clearly specify or individuate
the object as the appropriate pronoun. Hence it would
often be necessary to subjoin to the name some distinctive
circumstances, to discriminate the person intended from
others of that name; or the speaker would be obliged to
point to the individual if he happened to be present. Nay,
though the person or subject designed might be thus sufficiently
ascertained, it is easy to see that the phraseology
would have nothing of that simplicity and energy which accompany
the pronoun. If, in the first example, instead of
saying, “I am the God,” we should say, “The Lord is the
God;” or in the second, instead of “Thou art the man,”
“David is the man,” the energy of the expression would be
entirely destroyed. If any person, speaking of himself,
should distinguish himself from others of the same name, by
subjoining the necessary discriminating circumstances, so as
to leave no doubt in the mind of the hearer, it is obvious
that this phraseology would not only be inelegant, but also
feeble and unimpressive. To be convinced of the truth of
this observation, it is only necessary to compare the exanimate,
stiff, and frequently obscure diction of a common card,
with the freedom, perspicuity, and vivacity of a letter.
Pronouns may be divided into substantive and adjective,
personal and impersonal, relative and interrogative. The
personal substantive pronouns are I, thou, he, she. The
impersonal substantive pronoun is it.
The personal substantive pronouns have three cases, and
are thus declined:
| First Person, Masc. and Fem. |
| |
|
Sing. |
Plur. |
| Nom. |
I[28] |
We |
| Gen. |
Mine |
Ours |
| Obj. |
Me |
Us. |
| |
|
Second Person, Masc. and Fem. |
| |
|
Sing. |
Plur. |
| Nom. |
Thou[29] |
Ye or you |
| Gen. |
Thine |
Yours |
| Obj. |
Thee |
You. |
| |
| Third Person. |
| |
| Masc. |
| Nom. |
He[30] |
They |
| Gen. |
His |
Theirs |
| Obj. |
Him |
Them. |
|
Fem. |
|
Sing. |
Plur. |
| Nom. |
She[31] |
They |
| Gen. |
Hers |
Theirs |
| Obj. |
Her |
Them. |
| |
| Third Person. |
| |
| Neuter. |
| Impersonal. |
| Nom. |
It[32] |
They[33] |
| Gen. |
Its |
Theirs |
| Obj. |
It |
Them. |
My, thy, our, your, their, being the representatives of
nouns, have the essential character of pronouns. Thus,
when Decius says to Cato, “Cæsar is well acquainted with
your virtues,” the pronoun is employed as a substitute for
Cato’s. As they express not only the subject, but also the
relation of property or possession, they are by some grammarians
considered to be the genitives of their respective
substantive pronouns. In usage, however, they are distinguished
from the English genitive by their incapacity to
stand alone. Thus we say, “It is the king’s,” “It is
yours;” but we cannot say, “It is your,” the presence of a
noun being necessary to the last expression. They are,
therefore, more correctly named pronominal adjectives. For
the purpose of denoting emphatically the relation of possession
or property, the word own is frequently joined to them,
as, my own, thy own, our own. And to mark the person
with emphasis, they are compounded with the word self; in
Saxon, sylf; from the Gothic silba, ipse: thus, myself, thyself;
ourselves, yourselves. Theirselves is now obsolete,
themselves being used in its stead.
The pronouns of the first and second persons are either
masculine or feminine. The reason is, says Mr. Harris, because
the sex of the speaker and of the person addressed is
generally obvious. This explanation, which has been adopted
by most grammarians, appears to me unsatisfactory and
erroneous. Others have said that the pronouns of the first
and second persons have no distinction of sex, because all
distinction of this kind is foreign to the intention of the
speaker, who, when he uses the pronoun I, means the person
who speaks, be it man or woman; and when he employs
the pronoun thou, means the person addressed, without any
regard to the sex of the individual. This matter seems sufficiently
plain. Language, to be useful, must be perspicuous
and intelligible, exhibiting the subject and its attributes with
clearness and precision. If it should be asked why the pronoun
of the third person has three varieties, Mr. Harris
would answer, “to mark the sex.” If it were inquired
whence arises the necessity of marking the sex, he would
answer, and very justly, “in order to ascertain the subject of
discourse.” It is obvious, therefore, that to note the sex is
not the primary object, and that the principal aim of the
speaker is to discriminate and mark the subject. The pronouns
of the first and second persons have no variety of form
significant of sex, because the speaker and the person addressed
are evident without it. Mr. Harris, therefore, should have said
that the pronouns in question have no distinction of gender,
not because the sex of the speaker and of the person addressed,
but because the persons themselves, are in general obvious,
without the aid of sexual designation. The intention of the
speaker is not to denote the sex, but the person spoken of,
whether male or female; to ascertain which person, if absent,
the discrimination of sex is generally necessary. The sex,
therefore, enters not as an essential, but as an explanatory
circumstance; not as the subject of discourse, but to distinguish
the subject. Where the person is present, and is
either the speaker or the person addressed, discrimination of
sex becomes unnecessary, the pronoun itself marking the individuals.
When the person or subject of discourse is absent,
the distinction of sex serves frequently to determine the subject.
Hence the pronoun of the third person has three
varieties, he for the masculine, she for the feminine, and it for
the neuter.
The four personal pronouns, I, thou, he, and she, have three
cases, viz., the nominative or leading case, expressing the
principal subject, and preceding the verb; the genitive case,
whose form and office have been already defined; and the
objective, accusative, or following case, (for it has obtained
these three names,) expressing the object to which the energy
is directed, or the subject acted upon. This case follows the
verb.
Mine, thine, hers, theirs, his, yours, ours, are truly pronouns
in the possessive or genitive case. Johnson has indeed
said that my and mine are words precisely synonymous,
my, according to him, being used before a consonant, and
mine before a vowel; as, my sword, mine arm. It is doubtless
true that mine and thine are sometimes used as my and
thy, which are not substantive pronouns, but pronominal adjectives;
but that they are not precisely synonymous or
mutually convertible, is obvious; for my and thy cannot be
used for mine and thine, though mine and thine, as has been
observed, may be used for my and thy. Example: “Whose
book is this?” I cannot answer, “it is my,” but “it is mine.”
We may indeed say “it is my book;” but the addition of the
substantive is necessary.
As my and mine, thy and thine, our and ours, your and
yours, their and theirs, are not mutually convertible, they
cannot be regarded as synonymous each with its fellow.
This and that, which have improperly been referred by
some to the class of pronouns, have been considered already.
The former makes in the plural these, the latter those.
The relative pronouns, so called because they directly relate
or refer to a substantive preceding, which is therefore
termed the antecedent, are who, which, that.
The pronoun who is of the masculine or feminine gender,
referring to persons, male or female. The pronoun which is
neuter. That is common to the three genders.
|
Sing. and Plur. |
Sing. and Plur. |
| Nom. |
Who[34] |
Which |
| Gen. |
Whose |
Whose |
| Obj. |
Whom |
Which. |
Lowth and several other grammarians have asserted that
the pronoun which admits no variation. Numberless examples,
however, from the best authors might be cited to disprove
this assertion. Shakspeare occasionally uses whose as
the genitive of which; and, since his time, writers of the
highest eminence have employed it in the same manner.
“Of man’s first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste.”—Milton.
“The lights and shades, whose well-accorded strife
Gives all the strength and colour of our life.”—Pope.
“A true critic is like a dog at a feast, whose thoughts and
stomach are wholly set on what the guests fling away.”—Swift.
This usage is favourable to conciseness, and can very
seldom create ambiguity. Where obscurity indeed is apprehended,
the periphrasis, of which, should be adopted. I
have, therefore, given whose as the genitive of which; not
only because this usage is sanctioned by classical authority,
but likewise, because the other form, of which, is frequently
awkward and inelegant.
Who is applied to persons, that is, to animals distinguished
by rationality, or represented as possessing it.
“The man who has no music in himself.”—Shakspeare.
The antecedent man, being a person, is followed by who.
“A stag, who came to drink at a river, seeing his own
image in the clear stream, said thus to himself.”
Here the stag is represented as possessing reason and
speech, and therefore the pronoun who is employed. In
mythological writings in general, such as the Fables of Æsop,
inferior animals are very properly denoted by the personal
relative.
Which is applied to things inanimate, and creatures either
devoid of all indications of rationality, or represented as such.
“The city, which Romulus built, was called Rome.” Here
which is used, the word city being the antecedent, to which
it refers.
“The sloth, which is a creature remarkable for inactivity,
lives on leaves and the flowers of trees.” Here the sloth, an
animal hardly possessing sensation or life, is expressed by
which.
The rule here given for the use of these pronouns is not
uniformly observed, several good writers occasionally applying
them indifferently to inferior animals, without any determinate
principle of discrimination. It would be better, however,
were this rule universally followed; and if such modes
of expression as “frequented by that fowl, whom nature has
taught,” were entirely repudiated.
Priestley, whose doctrine on this subject seems nearly to
coincide with ours, has even objected to the application of
the pronoun who to children, because this pronoun conveys
an idea of persons possessing reason and reflection, of which
mere children are incapable. He, therefore, disapproves of
Cadogan’s phraseology, when he says, “a child who.”
That is applied indiscriminately to things animate and inanimate,
and admits no variation.
The pronouns who, which, and that, are sometimes resolvable
into and he, and she, and it. Mr. Harris, indeed,
has said, that the pronoun qui (who) may be always resolved
into et ille, a, ud (and he, and she, and it). This opinion,
however, is not perfectly correct; for it is thus resolvable in
those examples only in which the relative clause does not
limit or modify the meaning of the antecedent. If I say,
“Man who is born of a woman, is of few days, and full of
trouble,” the relative clause is not restrictive; I may, therefore,
resolve the pronoun, and say, “Man is of few days, and
he is born of woman.” “Light is a body which moves with
great velocity,” is resolvable into “Light is a body, and it
moves with great velocity.” But when the relative clause
limits the meaning of the antecedent, the relative is clearly
not thus resolvable. “Virgil was the only epic poet, among
the Romans, who can be compared to Homer.” The signification
of the antecedent is here restricted by the relative
clause: we cannot, therefore, by resolution, say, “Virgil
was the only epic poet among the Romans, and he can be
compared to Homer;” for the former of these propositions
is not true, nor is the sentiment, which it conveys, accordant
with the meaning of the author.
The pronoun what, if not employed interrogatively, is
equivalent to that which; and is applicable to inanimate
things only, as, “I believe what I see,” or “that which I
see.”
What admits no variation.
The relative pronouns who, which, are often used interrogatively,
and are, therefore, in such cases considered as interrogatives.
When thus employed, it is the opinion of the
author of the British Grammar, that they still retain their
relative character. “The only difference,” says he, “is this,
that the relative refers to an antecedent and definite subject,
and the interrogative to something subsequent and unknown.”
The example which he adduces in support of his
opinion is the following: “Who first seduced them to that
foul revolt?” “The very question,” says he, “supposes a
seducer, to which, though unknown, the pronoun who has a
reference.” Answer, “The infernal serpent.” He continues,
“Here, in the answer, we have the subject, which was indefinite,
ascertained; so that the who in the interrogation is
as much a relative as if it had been said originally, without
any interrogation at all. It was the infernal serpent who
seduced them.” Others adopt an opinion diametrically opposite,
contending that who and which are properly interrogatives,
and that even, when used as relatives, they still retain
their interrogative character. This theory a few examples
will sufficiently illustrate.
“The man who?” (which man?) his character follows,
“has no music in himself.”
“The city which? (what city?) Romulus built was called
Rome.”
“Happy the man whose cautious feet.”
“Happy that man who? his (whose) cautious feet.”
“Light is a body which? (body) moves with great
velocity.”
Of these two theories I have no hesitation in adopting the
former. My reasons are these. The intention of language
is to communicate our sentiments; to express what we think,
feel, perceive, or desire. Hence its general character is indicative
or assertive. “I believe,” “I wish,” “I see,” are
affirmative sentences; and whatever variety of forms the
phraseology may assume, they are all strictly significant of
assertion, and all resolvable into the language of affirmation.
“Go,” “teach,” “read,” are equivalent to, “I desire you to
go,” “to teach,” “to read.” “Have you finished your task?”
means, when the sentiment is fully expressed, “I desire to
know, whether you have finished your task.” Ellipses of
this kind are natural. They spring from an eagerness to impart
to the vehicle of our thoughts a degree of celerity,
suited to the promptitude with which the mind conceives
them. Vehemence or passion, impatient of delay, uniformly
resorts to them. The assertive form of expression I therefore
conceive to be the parent whence every other is derived,
and to which it is reducible. If this be the case, no interrogative,
conceived purely as such, can claim so early an origin
as definite or affirmative terms. Hence we may conclude,
that who, which, when, where, were at first used as relatives,
and came afterwards, by implication, to denote interrogations.
Again, we know that the meaning of an expression is frequently
collected, not so much from the strict import of the
terms, as from the tone or manner in which it is delivered.
If I say, “he did it,” the sentence is affirmative; yet, by
the tone of voice or manner of the speaker, this affirmative
sentence may denote an interrogation. Thus, “he did it?”
by an elevation of the voice, or the mode of notation, maybe
rendered equivalent to “did he do it?” “Who did it” is in
like manner an affirmative clause; but it is obvious that this
form of expression, like the other now adduced, may be likewise
employed to note an interrogation, thus, “Who did
it?” And it is evident, that, if the ellipsis be supplied, the
sentence would read thus, “I want to know who did it.”
The preceding clause, however, is sufficiently supplied by
the manner of the speaker. An ellipsis of this kind seems
to be involved in every interrogation. If I say, “did he do
it?” it is equivalent to “tell me, if he did it.” Accordingly,
we find that the Latins, in such interrogations, employed
only the latter clause; for an (whether), which is
termed an interrogative, is, in fact, nothing but the Greek ἂν,
synonymous with si (if) among the Latins. “An fecit,” did
he do it? is therefore strictly equivalent to “si fecit” if he
did it, the former clause “tell me,” being understood, and its
import supplied by the manner of the speaker, or the mode
of notation.
Besides, let any person ask himself what idea he annexes
to the word who, considered as an interrogative, and I am
persuaded he will be sensible that he cannot form any distinct
conception of its import.
I am inclined therefore to think that interrogatives are
strictly relatives: and that these relatives, by the aid of voice,
gesture, or some explanatory circumstance, answer the purpose
of interrogation.
In using these pronouns interrogatively, it is to be observed,
that who and which are each applied to persons,
which is not the case when they are employed as relatives.
This difference, however, is to be observed, that when the
pronoun which is used interrogatively, and applied to persons,
it is generally, if not always, understood that the character
of the individual, who is the object of inquiry, is in presence
of the inquirer, or is in some degree known. Who is more indefinite.
If I say, “which is the man?” I mean “who of
those now before me?” or of those who have been described?
Agreeably to this notion, we say, “which of the two,” not
“who of the two,” was guilty of this crime?
If I say, “Who is the man that will dare to affirm?” it
implies that I am entirely a stranger to him, and that I even
doubt his existence. “Which is the man?” not only implies
his existence, but also that the aggregate of individuals,
whence the selection is made, is known to me.
What is also used interrogatively, and is employed in introducing
questions, whether the subject be persons or
things, as, “What man is that?” “What book is this?”
When no substantive is subjoined, it is then wholly indefinite,
as, “What is man that thou art mindful of him?”
When we inquire, therefore, into the character of any person,
and not for the individual himself, it is to be remembered
that we employ this pronoun, and not who or which.
There seems to be the same difference between who and
what definite, as between who and which. If I say, “What
man will dare to affirm this?” and “Which man will dare?”
&c., it is obvious that the former interrogatory is more indefinite
than the latter; the one implying a total ignorance of
the individual, and some doubt of his existence; the other,
that he is one of a number in some degree known to the inquirer.
When any defining clause is subjoined, either may be used,
as, “What, or which, man among you, having a hundred
sheep, and losing one, would not leave the ninety and
nine?”
The pronoun whether is equivalent to “which of the
two.” It is the Teutonic word wether, bearing the same relation
to wer, “who” or “which,” as either does to ein,
“one,” and neither, newether, to nie or nehein, “none.”
This word, though now generally employed or considered
as a conjunction, is in truth reducible to the class of words
which we are now examining, and is precisely synonymous
with uter, tra, trum, of the Latins. “Whether is it easier to
say?”—Bible.
Here whether is truly a pronoun, and is the nominative to
the following verb.
“Whether is greater, the gold or the temple?”—Ibid.
In these examples, whether is precisely the same with
“which of the two.” It seems now to be giving place to
the word which, as the comparative, when two things are
compared, is often supplanted by the superlative. Thus we
often say, when speaking of two, “which is the best,” instead
of “whether is better.” The Latins almost uniformly observed
the distinction:—“Uter dignior, quis dignissimus?”—Quint.
The pronoun it is used indefinitely, and applied to persons
or things.
Dr. Johnson has objected to the use of this pronoun in
those examples wherein the pronouns of the first or second
persons are employed; and Dr. Lowth has censured it
when referring to a plural number, as in the following
example:
“’T is these, that give the great Atrides spoils.”—Pope.
I concur, however, with the learned author of the Philosophy
of Rhetoric, who regards the objections of these critics
as, in this instance, of no weight. For when a question is
asked, the subject of which is totally unknown, there must
be some indefinite word employed to denote the subject of
the interrogation. The word which we use for this purpose
is it, as, “Who is it?” “What is it?” This phraseology
is established by universal usage, and is therefore unexceptionable.
This being the case, there can be no impropriety
in repeating in the answer the indefinite term employed
in the question. We may therefore reply, “It is I,” “It is
he,” “It is she.”
Now, if the term be admitted in questions and answers
where the subject may be either male or female, and of the
first, second, or third person, it surely is admissible in those
cases also where the subject is in the plural number. Nay, to
use in the answer any other word to express the subject than
that by which it is signified in the question, would be in all
cases, if not productive of ambiguity, at least less precise.
“Who is it?” says a master to his servant, hearing a voice
in the hall. “It is the gentlemen who called yesterday,”
replies the servant. Who sees not that “they are the gentlemen,”
would be an answer less accordant with the terms of
the question, and would less clearly show that “the gentlemen,”
and “the subject of inquiry,” both being denoted by
one term, are one and the same? Had the master known
that it was the voice of a gentleman, and that there were
more than one, and had he accordingly said, “Who are
they?” the answer would have properly been “They are the
gentlemen.” But when the question is “Who is it?” I apprehend
the only apposite answer is, “It is the gentlemen,”
the identity of the terms (it being repeated) clearly evincing
an identity of subject in the question and in the answer; in
other words, that the subject of the inquiry, and the subject
of the answer, are one and the same.
I conclude with observing, that, though I have here considered
the word that as a pronoun, there can be no question
that in its import it is precisely the same with the demonstrative
that, which has been already explained. “The house
that you built is burned,” is resolvable thus, “The house is
burned, you built that.”
An adjective has been defined by most grammarians to be
“that part of speech which signifies an accident, quality, or
property of a thing.” This definition appears to me to be
somewhat defective and incorrect: for the adjective does not
express the quality simply, but the quality or property, as
conjoined with a substance; or, as grammarians have
termed it, in concreto. Thus, when we say “good man,”
goodness is the name of the quality, and good is the adjective
expressing that quality, as conjoined with the subject man.
Accordingly, every adjective is resolvable into the name of
the thing implied, and any term of reference or conjunction,
as of, with. Thus “a prudent man” is equivalent to “a man
with” or “having prudence” or to “a man of prudence.” An
adjective, therefore, is that part of speech which denotes
any substance or attribute, not by itself, but as conjoined
with a subject, or pertaining to its character. This conjunction
is generally marked by changing the termination of
the simple name of the substantive or attribute, as fool, foolish,
wax, waxen. Sometimes no change is made; and the
simple name of the substance, or attribute, is prefixed to the
name of the subject, as sea fowl, race horse, corn field. In
writing these, and similar expressions, the conjunction is
sometimes marked by a hyphen, as sea-fowl, river-fish, wine-vessel.
As every appellative denotes the whole of a genus or
species, the intention and effect of the adjective is, by limiting
the generic meaning of the substantive, to specify what part
of the genus or species is the subject of discourse. If I say
“man,” the term is universal: it embraces the species. If I
say “a man,” the expression is indefinite, being applicable
to any individual of the kind. If I say “a good man,” I
confine the term to an individual distinguished by goodness.
Here man expresses the substance; and good the quality
in concreto. Sometimes, on the contrary, the substantive
is the general name of the quality or property; and the adjective
modifies or determines its degree, as, wisdom, little
wisdom. Let us take another example. The word stone is
applicable to a whole species of substances. If I say round
stone, I confine the meaning of the substantive to that part
of the genus which is distinguished by roundness. Here the
substantive denotes the matter, or substance, in general, and
the adjective limits its signification, by expressing the form.
Sometimes the converse takes place, as golden globe. Here
the substantive is the generic name of a certain figure; and
the adjective, by expressing the matter, confines that figure
to the substance of gold.
Some grammarians have denominated this part of speech
by the name of adjective noun; to others this designation
appears inadmissible. The latter observe, that neither is the
adjective the name of anything, nor is it in English variable,
like the substantive. They allow, that in Greek and Latin,
the designation in question is, in some degree, justifiable,
because, though the noun and adjective differ essentially in
office, in these languages, they agree in form; but in our language
they deem it a singular impropriety[35].
I have said that the adjective denotes a substance, quality,
or property, “as pertaining,” or in concreto. Now, it is to
be observed, that substances do not admit degrees of more
or less, in regard to their essential character. “A wooden
table” cannot be more or less wooden. “An iron bar” cannot
be more or less such. In these cases, the adjective, as I
have already remarked, by expressing the matter, limits the
form to one species of substance. The same observation is
applicable to the converse circumstance, in which the form
strictly limits the matter, as “triangular board.” Here it is
obvious, that the substance limited to one form by the term
triangular, cannot be more or less triangular. But this is
not the case with qualities or properties, which may exist in
different substances in different degrees. And, as it is sometimes
necessary to express the existence of a quality, as
greater or less in one substance than another, hence arises
the utility of some form of expression to denote these relative
degrees of its existence. It is in this case only, that the termination
of the adjective admits variation; and then it is
said to be in a state of comparison.
In all qualities susceptible of intension or remission, the
number of degrees, from the lowest to the highest, may be
accounted infinite. Hardness, for example, gravity, magnitude,
genius, wisdom, folly, are severally diversified by an
infinitude of gradations, which it would elude the capacity
of any language to discriminate. To denote these degrees,
is, therefore, utterly impracticable, as it is wholly unnecessary.
In English, as in most other languages, we employ two
variations: the one to denote simple excess, or a greater degree
of the quality than that which is expressed by the adjective
itself; and the other to denote the greatest excess.
Thus, if I compare wood with stone, as possessing the
quality of hardness, I say, “wood is hard,” “stone is harder.”
If I compare these with iron, I say, “wood is hard,” “stone
harder,” “iron the hardest.” Thus, in truth, there are only
two degrees of comparison, viz. the comparative and the
superlative, the positive expressing the quality simply and
absolutely.
The comparative is formed by adding er to the positive, if
it end with a consonant; or the letter r, if it end with
a vowel; as, soft, softer; safe, safer.
The superlative is formed by adding est, or st, as, soft,
softest; safe, safest[36].
Some adjectives are compared irregularly, as,
| Pos. |
Comp. |
Super. |
| Good |
Better |
Best |
| Bad or Evil |
Worse |
Worst |
| Little |
Less |
Least |
| Much |
More |
Most |
| Many |
More |
Most |
| Near |
Nearer |
Nearest or next |
| Late |
Later |
Latest or last. |
The comparative degree is frequently expressed by the
word more, and the superlative by most, as,
| Pos. |
Comp. |
Super. |
| Hard |
More hard |
Most hard. |
Monosyllabic adjectives are generally compared by annexing
r or er, st or est; adjectives of two or more syllables by
more and most, as, strong, stronger, strongest; certain, more
certain, most certain.
Dissyllabic adjectives in y form an exception to this rule,
as happy, happier, happiest.
Adjectives of two syllables ending in le, after a mute, are
also excepted, as, able, abler, ablest.
Euphony seems here to be generally consulted, and the ear
may be allowed perhaps to furnish the best rule.
Some form their superlative by adding most to the comparative,
as, nether, nethermost; lower, lowermost; under,
undermost: others by adding most either to the positive or
comparative, as, hind, hindmost, or hindermost; up, upmost
or uppermost. From in, we have inmost and innermost[37].
Besides this definite and direct kind of comparison, there
is another, which may be termed indefinite or indirect, expressed
by the intensive words too, very, exceedingly, &c., as,
too good, very hard, exceedingly great.
When the word very, or any other of the same import, is
put before the positive, it is called by some writers the superlative
of eminence, to distinguish it from the other superlative,
which has been already mentioned, and is called the
superlative of comparison. Thus, very hard is termed the
superlative of eminence; most hard, or hardest, the superlative
of comparison.
I have said that the comparative denotes simple excess,
and the superlative the greatest. It is not, however, to be
hence inferred, that the comparative may not be employed
in expressing the same pre-eminence or inferiority with the
superlative. If I say, “Of all acquirements virtue is the
most valuable,” I may also convey the same sentiment by
saying, “Virtue is more valuable than every other acquirement.”
If it be asked, what then is the difference between
the comparative and superlative? I answer,
1st. That the superlative expresses the absolutely highest
or lowest degree of the quality, as when we say, “O God
most high;” or the greatest or least degree, in relation merely
to the subjects of comparison, thus expressing a superiority
of excess above the comparative, as when I say, “In estimating
the worth of these human attainments, learning,
prudence, and virtue, it cannot be denied that learning is
valuable, that prudence is more valuable, but that virtue is
the most valuable.” The comparative expresses merely simple
excess, but never the highest or lowest degree of the quality.
This distinction is, perhaps, the most precise, and the most
worthy of attention.
I observe, however, that the sentiment in the last example
may be expressed by the comparative, but not simply, or by
itself; thus, “Learning is valuable, prudence more valuable,
and virtue more valuable still,” the word still implying a continued
gradation. Were this word suppressed, the sentence
would imply that prudence and virtue are each more valuable
than learning, but would assert no superiority of virtue to
prudence. The same sentiment may likewise be expressed
by combining the two first, and marking simply the excess
of the third, thus, “virtue is better than both.”
2dly. When we express the superiority or inferiority of one
of two things, or of two aggregates, we almost always use
the comparative. Thus, speaking of Cæsar and Cato, I say,
“Cato was the more virtuous, Cæsar the more eloquent;” or
of two brothers, we say, “John was the elder.”
In such cases the superlative is sometimes employed, as,
“the best of the two,” instead of “the better of the two.”
The former phraseology, however, is more consonant to
established usage, and is in every case to be preferred.
“Whether is it easier to say, ‘take up thy bed and walk,’ or
to say, ‘thy sins are forgiven thee?’” that is, which of the
two is “easier,” not “easiest,” the simple excess of one
thing above another being here denoted.
3dly. When we use the superlative, we always compare
one thing, or an aggregate number of things, with the class
to which they belong, or to which we refer them; whereas,
when we use the comparative, except in the case just mentioned,
the things compared either belong, or are conceived
as belonging, to different classes, being placed in opposition
to each other. Thus, in comparing Socrates, who was an
Athenian, with the other Athenians, we say, “Socrates was
the wisest of the Athenians;” that is, “of,” “out of,” or “of
the class of Athenians.” Hence in Latin the superlative
often takes the preposition ex (out of) to denote that the
object compared belongs to the order of things with which it
is compared; the comparative very rarely.
Now the same sentiment may be expressed by the comparative;
but then the Athenians and Socrates, though belonging
to one species, are conceived as mutually opposed,
and referred to different places, whereas the superlative refers
them to one common aggregate. Thus, if we employ the
comparative, we say, “Socrates was wiser than any other
Athenian.”
Agreeably to the observation now made, we cannot say,
“Cicero was more eloquent than the Romans,” or “than any
Roman;” because Cicero was himself a Roman, one of the
class with which he is compared, and could not therefore be
more eloquent than himself. As the objects compared belong,
therefore, to one class, and are not two individuals, nor
two aggregates, the comparative cannot be employed, unless
by placing them in opposition, or referring them to different
places, as, “Cicero was more eloquent than any other Roman.”
Here the word other denotes that opposition, that diversity
of place or species, which, in all cases but the one already
mentioned, is essentially implied in the use of the comparative.
I have observed already, that when the superlative is employed,
the things compared are referred to one aggregate;
and that when the comparative is used, they are contradistinguished
by a different reference. This distinction obtains
uniformly, unless when we compare only two individuals, or
two classes, both referred to one aggregate, as “the elder of
the Catos,” “of these two nations (speaking of the Greeks
and Romans), the latter were the more warlike.” In such examples
as these, the comparative, while it retains its own
distinctive character, denoting simple excess, partakes also
of the nature of the superlative, the objects compared being
referred by the preposition to one and the same aggregate.
But as the superlative is always followed by of, and the
comparative, in every case except the one now mentioned,
followed by than, some writers say, “the eldest of the two,”
“the latter were the most warlike.” This phraseology, however
conformable to the generally distinguished usage of the
comparative and superlative, is repugnant to the characteristic
power of these degrees, by which one denotes simple
excess, while the other heightens or lessens the quality to its
highest or lowest degree.
From the preceding remarks will appear the impropriety
of saying, “Jacob loved Joseph more than all his children.”[38]
Joseph being one of his children, the sentiment expressed
involves an absurdity: it should be “more than all his other
children.” “In the beginning of the 16th century, Spain is
said to have possessed a thousand merchant ships, a number
probably far superior to that of any nation in Europe in
that age.” (Robertson’s America.) It should be, “that of
any other nation in Europe:” for, Spain being one of the
European nations, she could not possess a number superior
to her own. The comparative required the terms to be contrasted
by the word other.
“Adam
The comeliest of men since born
His sons. The fairest of her daughters Eve.”—Milton.
“Adam,” the antecedent subject of comparison, is here improperly
referred to the aggregate of “men since born.” To
this aggregate he cannot be said to belong, not having been
“born,” nor being reducible to the class of “his own sons.”
Eve also is referred to a species of which she was no part.
In neither of these comparisons can the second term include
the first; yet the preposition refers them to one class. Such
phraseologies as these, though not ungrammatical, involve
an absurdity, and should therefore be dismissed.
Adjectives, whose signification does not admit intension or
remission, cannot be compared. Among these are to be
reckoned, 1st, All words expressive of figure, as circular,
square, triangular, perpendicular, straight; for it is obvious,
that if a body or figure be triangular, or square, or
circular, it cannot be more or less so. It is either circular, or
not circular; triangular, or not triangular; straight, or not
straight. If the affirmative be the case, gradation from more
or less, or conversely, is impossible; if the negative be true,
then the attributes denoted by these adjectives do not belong
to it; and therefore the epithets circular, triangular, straight,
&c., are inapplicable. Hence such expressions as these,
“place the staff more erect,” “make the field more triangular,”
are highly improper. We should say, “set the
staff erect,” “make the field triangular.”
2dly. All adjectives whose signification, in their simple
form, implies the highest or lowest possible degree, admit not
comparison, as, chief, supreme, universal, perfect, extreme,
&c. Hume, speaking of enthusiasm, says (Essays, vol. i.
p. 72), “it begets the most extreme resolutions.” Extreme
implies the farthest, or the greatest possible, and cannot
admit intension.
I am aware that usage may be pleaded in favour of “more
and most universal, more and most perfect.” This usage,
however, is not such as will sanction the former of these
phraseologies; for good writers generally avoid it. Besides,
there is no necessity for resorting to this mode of expression,
as we have an attributive appropriate to the idea intended:
thus, instead of saying, “Literature is more universal in
England than America,” we should say, “Literature is more
general.” It is almost unnecessary to observe, that literature
in England is either universal, or it is not; if the former be
true, it cannot be more than universal; if the latter, the term
is inapplicable. The word general does not comprise the
whole; it admits intension and remission: the adjective
universal implies totality. A general rule admits exceptions;
a universal rule embraces every particular.
The expression “more perfect” is, in strictness of speech,
equally exceptionable; usage, however, has given it a
sanction which we dare hardly controvert. It has been proposed,
indeed, to avoid this and similar improprieties, by
giving the phraseology a negative, or indirect form. Thus,
instead of saying, “A time-keeper is a more perfect machine
than a watch,” it has been proposed to say, “A time-keeper
is a less imperfect machine than a watch.” This phraseology
is logically correct, perfection being predicable of neither the
one thing nor the other; it might likewise, in many cases, be
adopted with propriety. In the language of passion, however,
and in the colourings of imagination, such expressions would
be exanimate and intolerable. A lover, expatiating with
rapture on the beauty and perfection of his mistress, would
hardly call her, “the least imperfect of her sex.”
In all languages, indeed, examples are to be found of adjectives
being compared whose signification admits neither
intension nor remission. It would be easy to assign several
reasons for this, did the discussion belong to the province of
the grammarian[39]. Suffice it to say, that such phraseologies
should never be admitted where the language will furnish
correct, and equally apposite, expressions.
I observe also, that as those adjectives whose signification
cannot be heightened or lessened admit not comparison, so,
for the same reason, they exclude all intensive words. The
expressions, so universal, so extreme, and such like, are
therefore improper. The former is indeed common enough;
but it is easy to see, as it has been already remarked, that
whatever is universal cannot be increased or diminished; and
that what is less than universal, cannot be characterized by
that epithet. The phrase so universal implies a gradation
in universality, and that something is less so than an another;
which is evidently impossible.
It has been questioned, whether prior, superior, ulterior,
exterior, and several others, which have the form of the
Latin comparative, should be deemed comparatives. I am
inclined to think, they ought not, for these reasons; 1st,
They have not the form of the English comparative; 2dly,
They are never followed by than, which uniformly accompanies
the English comparative, when the subjects are
opposed to each other, or referred to different classes; 3dly,
It is not to be conceived, that every adjective, which implies
comparison, is therefore a comparative or superlative, otherwise
preferable (better than), previous (prior to), might be
deemed comparatives; 4thly, Many of these have truly a
positive meaning, not implying an excess of the quality, but
merely the quality, as opposed to its contrary. The interior
means simply the inside, as opposed to the exterior or outside;
the anterior, “the one before,” opposed to posterior,
“the one behind.”
I dismiss this article with observing, that the signification
of the positive is sometimes lessened by the termination ish;
as, white, whitish; black, blackish. Johnson remarks, that
the adjective in this form may be considered as in a state of
comparison; it may properly be called a diminutive.
A verb has been defined to be “that part of speech which
signifies to be, to do, or to suffer;” or more correctly, “that
part of speech which predicates some action, passion, or
state of its subject,” as “I strike,” “I am wounded,” “I
stand.” Its essence consists in affirmation, and by this
property it is distinguished from every other part of speech.
The adjective expresses an accident, quality, or property of
a thing in concreto; that is, when joined to the name of a
substance, it expresses that substance, as accompanied by
some attribute: in other words, it limits a generic name,
confining it to that part of the kind, which possesses the
character, which the attributive specifies; but it affirms
nothing. Thus, if we say, “a wise man,” which is equivalent
to “a man with,” or “having wisdom,” there is no affirmation;
an individual is singled from a species, under the
character of wisdom, but nothing is asserted of this individual.
If we say “the man is wise,” there is something
affirmed of the man, and the affirmation is expressed by is.
If the attribute and the assertion be combined in the expression,
as in Latin vir sapit, it is obvious that the essence of
the verb consists, not in denoting the attribute wisdom, but
in affirming that quality, as belonging to the subject; for, if
you cancel the assertion, the verb is immediately converted
into an adjective, and the expression becomes vir sapiens, a
wise man.
The simplest of all verbs is that which the Greeks call a
verb of existence, namely, the verb to be. This verb frequently
denotes pure affirmation, as “God is good,” where
the verb, or copula, as it has been termed, serves to predicate
of the Deity, the attribute denoted by the following
word. Hence, as it expresses mere affirmation, the Latins
call it a substantive verb, in contradistinction to those verbs
which, with an attribute, denote assertion, and were called by
some grammarians adjective verbs.
Sometimes it predicates pure or absolute existence, as
“God is,” that is, “God exists.” In the following example
it occurs in both senses. “We believe that thou art, and
that thou art the rewarder of them who diligently seek thee.”
As nouns denote the subjects of our discourse, so verbs
predicate their accidents, or properties. The former are the
names of things, the latter what we say concerning them.
These two, therefore, must be the only essential parts of
speech; for to mental communication nothing else can be
indispensably requisite, than to name the subject of our
thoughts, and to express our sentiments of its attributes or
properties. And as the verb essentially expresses affirmation,
without which there could be no communication of
sentiment, it has been hence considered as the principal part
of speech, and was therefore called, by the ancient grammarians,
verb, or the word, by way of eminence. The noun,
however, is unquestionably of earlier origin. To assign
names to surrounding objects would be a matter of the first
necessity: the next step would be to express their most
common actions, or states of being. This indeed is the
order of nature—the progress of intellect.
Mr. Tooke observes that, “the verb does not imply any
assertion, and that no single word can.” “Till one single
thing,” says he, “can be found to be a couple, one single
word cannot make an assertion or affirmation: for there is
joining in that operation, and there can be no junction of
one thing.” This theory he illustrates by the tense ibo,
which he resolves thus:
| English |
Hi[40] |
Wol |
Ich |
| Latin |
I |
Vol |
O |
| Greek |
Ι |
Βουλ |
Εω. |
The first of each triad are the simple verbs, equivalent to go.
The second are the verbs Wol, Vol, Βουλ, denoting will.
The third are the pronouns of the first person. Whatever
opinion may be formed respecting the truth of this analysis,
its ingenuity will not be questioned. There are two objections,
however, by which its justness may possibly be controverted.
The first is, if the personal pronouns are contained,
as Mr. Tooke says, in the Greek and Latin terminations
of the three persons of their verbs, why is the
pronoun repeated with the verb? If the o in volo be an abbreviated
suffix for ego, why do we redundantly say ego volo?
Now, in answer to this objection, it might be observed, were
we disposed to indulge in mere hypothesis, that the involution
of the pronoun may have eluded the attention of the
Latins; or, if this explanation should be deemed too improbable,
it may be supposed that usage, against whose
decree there is no appeal, may have established the repetition
of the pronoun at the expense of strict propriety. One
thing particularly deserves attention, that the pronoun was
seldom or never used, unless in cases where emphasis was implied,
or an antithesis of persons was to be strongly marked.
But without resorting to conjectures, which may be deemed
vague and unsatisfactory, we may appeal to a fact which is
decisive of the point in question. I have already observed,
that in the Hebrew language we can distinctly mark the
pronouns suffixed to the verb; yet we find the Hebrew
writers repeating the pronouns even in cases where no emphasis
is intended. Thus, in Gen. xlviii. 22, Ve-ani nathatti,
“and I have given;” Job xix. 25, Ve-ani iadahgti, “and I
knew;” Deut. ix. 2, attah iadahghta, ve-atta shamahgh ta,
“thou knowest, and thou hast heard.” In these examples,
the pronoun is both incorporated with the verb and repeated
by itself. Whatever may be the abstract propriety of this
phraseology, its existence in Hebrew is sufficient to obviate
the objection proposed.
Again, it may be urged, if the pronoun ego be suffixed to
the verb, why do not all the tenses in the first person singular
end in o? This second objection may also be partly, if not
entirely, removed. The Latin language appears to be a commixture
of Greek and one of the northern languages. This
commixture will account for the first person singular sometimes
ending in o, in imitation of the Greeks, and at other
times in m, in imitation of the Celts. The present tense of
the Gaelic, a dialect of the Celtic, proceeds thus: sgriobh-aim,
“I write,” sgriobh-air, sgriobh-aidh, sgriobh-amoid,
sgriobh-aoidhesi, sgriobh-aidsion. Here, as Whiter observes,
we have something resembling the Latin verb scribo: and it
is to be remarked that the first person singular ends in m,
which the Romans most probably adopted as one of their
verbal terminations. And could we prosecute the inquiry,
and investigate the structure of the Greek and Celtic tenses
themselves, we should doubtless find, that they involve, along
with the radical word, one or more terms expressing the accessary
ideas of action, passion, state, person, time, and so
forth. The same theory, we are persuaded, may be applied
to all languages, in which the tenses are formed by variety
of termination.
Nothing, I conceive, can be more evident, than that the
inflexions of nouns and verbs, how inexplicable soever they
may now prove, were not originally the result of systematic
art, but were separate terms significant of the circumstances
intended, and afterwards, by celerity of pronunciation,
coalesced with the words of which they now form the terminations.
It has been observed, that the essence of the verb consists
in affirmation. This theory, I have remarked, is controverted
by Mr. Tooke. It must be obvious, however, from the
preceding observations, that the difference between the
opinion of this eminent philologist, and that which is here
delivered, is more apparent than real. For Mr. Tooke will
not deny, that an affirmation is implied in ibo; he merely
observes, that every assertion requires “a couple of terms.”
Now it is of little moment to the point in question whether
the two terms be incorporated in one, as in lego, or remain
separate, as “I read.” In either case the verb affirms something
of its nominative, whether that nominative appear in a
simple or in a compound state. Sometimes the affirmation is
expressed by a separate and appropriate sign, as ille est
dives, “he is rich:” and the verb of existence (to be) is supposed,
by several critics and philologists, to have been coeval
with the earliest infancy of language. In English, the affirmation,
and also the action, are frequently denoted, simply
by the junction of the name of the attribute with the nominative
of the subject, whether noun or pronoun. Thus, if we
say, “my will,” “the children’s will,” there is no affirmation
implied, and the term will is considered as a mere name.
But if we say, “I will,” “the children will,” it becomes invested
with a different character, and affirms the volition to
belong to the subject. Thus also, “the hero’s might,” “the
hero might,” “my ken” (my knowledge or ability), “I ken,”
I can, or I am able; “my love,” “I love.” Mr. Tooke observes,
that when we say “I love,” there is an ellipsis of the
word do. This appears to me a probable opinion, though
not entirely unobjectionable. For though we find the
auxiliary more frequently used in old English than in
modern compositions, yet it does not occur so frequently as,
according to this hypothesis, we should naturally expect.
Mr. Tooke indeed admits the fact; but observes, that
Chaucer had less occasion to use it, because in his time the
distinguishing terminations of the verb still remained, though
they were not constantly employed. Now I find, as Mr.
Tyrwhitt remarks, that Chaucer seldom uses the word do as
an auxiliary, even in those cases where the verb and the
noun are identical. This circumstance might lead us to infer
that the English present was derived from the Saxon, by
dropping the termination, as ic lufige, I love; the affirmation
and the action being sufficiently obvious from the construction,
and that it was originally optional to say either “I
love,” or “I do love.” Be that as it may, the assertion expressed
by “I do,” equivalent to “I act,” appears clearly to
be signified by the junction of the nominative pronoun with
the sign of action. Whether a note of affirmation was at
first separately employed, and afterwards involved in the
verbal termination, or whether the affirmation be merely inferred
and not signified, this is certain, that it is by the verb,
and the verb only, that we can express affirmation.
As every subject of discourse must be spoken of as either
doing or suffering something, either acting or acted upon; or
as neither doing nor suffering; hence verbs have been divided
by all grammarians into active, passive, and neuter.
The verb active denotes that the subject of discourse is
doing something, as, I write; the passive verb, that the subject
suffers, or is acted upon, as, the book is burned; and the
neuter denotes neither the one nor the other, but expresses
merely the state, posture, or condition of the subject, as unaffected
by anything else, as, I sit, I sleep, I stand.
Action, energy, or motion may either be confined to the
agent, or pass from him to something extrinsic. Hence active
verbs have been divided into transitive and intransitive. An
active transitive verb denotes that kind of action by which the
agent affects something foreign to himself, or which passes from
the agent to something without him, as, to beat a drum, to whip
a horse, to kill a dog. Beat, whip, kill, are active transitive
verbs; and it is the characteristic of these verbs that they
admit a noun after them, denoting the subject of the action.
An active intransitive verb denotes that species of action
or energy, which passes not from the agent to anything else;
that is, it expresses what has been termed immanent energy.
Hence an intransitive verb does not admit a noun after it,
there being no extrinsic subject or object affected by the
action. Thus, I run, I walk, the horse gallops, are examples
of active intransitive verbs[41].
Webster, in his Dissertations on the English Language,
delivers it as his opinion, that the division of verbs into
active, passive, and neuter is incorrect; and that the only
accurate distribution is into transitive and intransitive. “Is
not a man,” says he, “passive in hearing? yet hearing is
called an active verb.”
It is doubtless true, that to hear, and many other verbs,
commonly called active, denote chiefly, perhaps, the effect of
an extrinsic or foreign act. But whether we view the matter
as a question either in metaphysics or in grammar, we shall
perceive but little impropriety in adopting the common distinction.
For, though the verb to hear denotes, perhaps,
chiefly, that a certain impression is made on the mind
through the auditory organ, yet even here the mind is not
entirely passive, as, were this the place for such a discussion,
it would be easy to prove. I see, I hear, I feel, I perceive,
denote not only the sensation in which we are passive, but
also a perception, to which the consent or activity of the
mind is unquestionably essential. Hence these verbs have,
in all languages, been denominated active. But if the term
transitive be the only correct name, it may be asked, why
does Mr. Webster call this verb by that appellation? He
would answer, I doubt not, “because something passes from
the agent to something else.” What, then, is that something
which passes? I am afraid Mr. Webster would have
difficulty in answering this question, so as to justify the term
transitive, without admitting the verb to be active. For, if
it be not an act, an energy, or some operation of the mind,
what is it, or how can it pass from one to another? The
truth is, this objection of Mr. Webster to the term active in
such cases, is founded neither on metaphysical nor grammatical
principles; for by an active transitive verb is meant, that
which admits a noun as its regimen; and, for the purposes
of grammar, this name is sufficiently correct. If the point in
question be metaphysically considered, it would be easy to
demonstrate that, though in sensation the mind be passive, in
perception it is active.
I would here observe, in passing, that there are many verbs
neuter and intransitive, which, followed by a preposition, may
be truly considered as active transitive verbs. These have
been denominated, by the learned Dr. Campbell, compound
active verbs. To laugh, for example, is a neuter verb; it
cannot therefore admit a passive voice, as, “I am laughed.”
To laugh at may be considered as an active transitive verb;
for it not only admits an objective case after it in the active
voice, but is likewise construed as a passive verb, as, “I am
laughed at.” Here an obvious analogy obtains between
these two and the verbs rideo, derideo, in Latin; the former
of which is a neuter, and the latter an active verb. Nor, as
the same ingenious writer observes, does it matter whether
the preposition be prefixed to the simple verb, as in Latin, in
order to form the active verb, or be put after, and detached,
as is the case in English. The only grammatical criterion
in our language between an active and a neuter verb is this:
if the verb admits an objective case after it, either with or
without a preposition, to express the subject or object of the
energy, the verb may be grammatically considered as a compound
active verb; for thus construed it has a passive voice.
If the verb does not thus admit an objective case, it must be
considered grammatically as neuter or intransitive, and has
no passive voice. To smile is a neuter verb; it cannot,
therefore, be followed by an objective case, nor be construed
as a passive verb. We cannot say, she smiled him, or he
was smiled. To smile on, according to the principle now
proposed, is a compound active verb; we therefore say, she
smiled on him. He was smiled on by Fortune in every
undertaking[42].
As all things exist in time, and whatever is predicable of
any subject must be predicated as either past, present, or
future, every action, energy, or state of being, coming under
one or other of these predicaments, hence arises the utility of
tenses, to express the times, or relative order of their existence.
In regard to the number of these tenses[43], necessary
to render a language complete, grammarians have been somewhat
divided in opinion.
In our language we have two simple tenses, the present
and the preterperfect[44]. The latter is generally formed by
adding d or ed to the present, as love, loved; fear, feared.
That the suffix here is a contraction for did, as Mr. Tooke
supposes, I can easily imagine; thus, fear, fear-did, feared,
or did fear; but the question returns, whence comes the
termination ed in doed, from which did itself is contracted?
This query seems to have escaped the attention of the learned
author[45].
Actions and states of being may be predicated as either
certain or contingent, free or necessary, possible or impossible,
obligatory or optional; in short, as they may take place
in a variety of ways, they may be spoken of, as diversified in
their modes of production. Hence arises another accident
of verbs, called a mood, expressing the mode or manner of
existence. These modes are, in some languages, partly expressed
by inflexions, partly by auxiliary verbs, or words
significant of the model diversity. In English there is only
one mood, namely, the indicative. The Greeks and Romans
expressed by inflections the most common modes of action
or existence, as conditionality, power, contingency, certainty,
liberty, and duty. In our language they are denoted by
auxiliary verbs.
The English verb has only one voice, namely, the active.
Dr. Lowth, and most other grammarians, have assigned it
two voices, active and passive. Lowth has, in this instance,
not only violated the simplicity of our language, but has also
advanced an opinion inconsistent with his own principles.
For, if he has justly excluded from the number of cases in
nouns, and moods in verbs, those which are not formed by
inflexion, but by the addition of prepositions and auxiliary
verbs, there is equal reason for rejecting a passive voice, if it
be not formed by variety of termination. Were I to ask him
why he denies from a king to be an ablative case, or I may
love to be the potential mood, he would answer, and very
truly, that those only can be justly regarded as cases or
moods which, by a different form of the noun or verb, express
a different relation or a different mode of existence. If this
answer be satisfactory, there can be no good reason for assigning
to our language a passive voice, when that voice is
formed, not by inflexion, but by an auxiliary verb. Doceor
is truly a passive voice; but I am taught cannot, without
impropriety, be considered as such. Besides, as it is justly
observed by Dr. Ash, our author, when he parses the clause,
“I am well pleased,” tells us that am is the indicative mood,
present tense of the verb to be; and pleased, the passive
participle of the verb to please. Now, in parsing, every
word should be considered as a distinct part of speech:
whether, therefore, we admit pleased to be a passive participle
or not, (for this point I shall afterwards examine,) it is obvious
that on the principle now laid down, and acknowledged by
Dr. Lowth, am pleased is not a present passive, nor has the
author himself parsed it in this manner. Into such inconsistencies
do our grammarians run, from a propensity to force
the grammar of our language into a conformity with the
structure of Greek and Latin.
The same reasoning will also account for my assigning to
English verbs no more than two tenses and one mood. For,
if we consider the matter, not metaphysically, but grammatically,
and regard those only as moods which are diversified
by inflexion, (and, as Lowth himself observes, as far as grammar
is concerned, there can be no others,) we find that our
language has only one mood and two tenses.
This doctrine, in respect to the cases, is very generally
admitted. For though the Greeks and Romans expressed
the different relations by variety of inflexion, which they
termed cases, it does not follow that we are to acknowledge
the same number of cases as they had, when these relations
are expressed in English, not by inflexions, but by prepositions
or words significant of these relations. The Latins
would not have acknowledged absque fructu, without fruit, as
forming a seventh case, though they acknowledged fructu,
by fruit, as making an ablative or sixth case. And why?
because the latter only was formed by inflexion. For this
reason, I consider giving the name of dative case to the
combination of words to a king, or of ablative case to the
expression from a king, to be a palpable impropriety. Our
language knows no such cases; nor would an Englishman,
unacquainted with Greek or Latin, ever dream of these cases,
though perfectly master of his own language.
In the same manner it may be asked, what could lead him
to distinguish a diversity of moods, or a plurality of voices,
where there is no variety of termination to discriminate them?
The distinction of circumstances, respecting the modes of
existence, he expresses by words significant of these accidents;
but he would no more dream of giving these
forms of expression the name of moods, than he would be
disposed to call from a king by the name of casus ablativus,
or permit me to go the first person singular of the imperative
mood. If, indeed, he were somewhat acquainted with Latin,
he might, in the true spirit of modern grammarians, contend
that let me go, or permit me to go, is truly the first person
singular of the imperative mood; assigning as a reason for
this assertion, that such is the designation of eam in Latin.
With the most correct knowledge, however, of his own language
only, he could never be seduced into this absurdity.
A little reflection indeed might teach him, that even eam in
Latin is an elliptical expression for sine ut eam, the word
eam itself denoting neither entreaty nor command.
In truth, we may as reasonably contend that our language
has all the tenses which are to be found in Greek and Latin,
because, by the aid of auxiliaries and definitives, we contrive
to express what they denoted by one word, as to contend
that we have a potential, an optative or imperative mood, or
a passive voice; because by auxiliaries or variety of arrangement
we can express the circumstances of power, liberty,
duty, passion, &c. No grammarian has yet gone so far as
to affirm that we have in English a paulo post future, because
our language, by definitives or auxiliaries, is capable
of expressing that time. Or, what should we think of that
person’s discernment, who should contend that the Latins
had an optative mood, because utinam legeres signifies “I
wish you would read”? It is equally absurd to say that we
have an imperfect, preterpluperfect, or future tenses; or that
we have all the Greek varieties of mood, and two voices, because
by the aid of auxiliary words and definite terms we
contrive to express these accidents, times, or states of being.
I consider, therefore, that we have no more cases, moods,
tenses, or voices in our language, as far as its grammar, not
its capacity of expression, is concerned, than we have variety
of termination to denote these different accessary ideas.
As the terminations of most verbs in languages are varied
by tense and mood, so are they also varied according as the
subject is of the first, second, or third person. Thus, in the
only two tenses that we have in English, namely, the present
and the preterperfect tenses, the second person singular of
each is formed from the first, by adding st or est, as, I love,
thou lovest; I loved, thou lovedst; and the third person singular
of the present is formed by adding s, or the syllable
eth or th, to the first as, love, loves, or loveth; read, reads,
or readeth. These are the only variations which our verbs
admit, in concordance with the person of the nominative singular.
The three persons plural are always the same with
the first person singular.
Before I proceed to the conjugation of verbs in general, I
shall first explain the manner in which the auxiliaries are
conjugated. Of these the most extensively useful is the
verb to be, denoting simple affirmation, or expressing existence.
The next is that which signifies action, namely, the
verb to do. The third is the verb to have, implying possession.
The others are, shall, will, may, can, &c. I begin
with the verb to be.
| Indicative Mood. |
| Present Tense. |
| Sing.[46] |
I am |
Thou art |
He, she, or it is |
| Plur. |
We are |
Ye or you are |
They are. |
| |
|
Preterite. |
| Sing. |
I was |
Thou wast[47] |
He was |
| Plur. |
We were |
Ye or you were |
They were. |
| |
| Imperfect Conditional. |
| Sing. |
I were |
Thou wert |
He were |
| Plur. |
We were |
Ye or you were |
They were. |
| |
| Infinitive. |
| To be. |
It may seem inconsistent with the opinion which I have
delivered concerning moods, to assign an infinitive to this
verb; and the existence of this infinitive may appear, perhaps,
a sufficient refutation of that opinion. I shall, therefore,
briefly repeat what I have said, and offer a few additional
observations.
I have remarked that the first care of men, in a rude and
infant state, would be to assign names to surrounding objects;
and that the noun, in the natural order of things, must have
been the first part of speech. Their inventive powers would
next be employed to express the most common energies or
states of being, such as are denoted by the verbs to do, to
be, to suffer. Hence, by the help of these combined with a
noun, they might express the energy or state of that thing,
of which the noun was the name. Thus, I shall suppose
that they assigned the word plant, as the name of a vegetable
set in the ground. To express the act of setting it,
they would say, do plant, that is, act plant. The letters d
and t being nearly allied, it is easy to conceive how the word
do, by a variation very natural and common to all languages,
might be changed into to; and thus the word to prefixed to
a noun would express the correspondent energy or action.
In what light, then, are we to consider the phrase to plant,
termed an infinitive, or to what class of words is it reducible?
Previously to my answering this question, it is necessary
to remind the reader, that a verb joined to a noun
forms a sentence; that affirmation is essential to the character
of a verb; and that, for this reason, and this only, it has
been pre-eminently distinguished by the name of verb, or the
word. Destroy this characteristic, and it is immediately
confounded with the adjective, or the participle. It is its
power of predication only, which constitutes it a distinct
part of speech, and discriminates it from every other. Vir
sapit, and vir est sapiens, are equivalent expressions. Cancel
the assertion, and the verb is lost. The expression becomes
vir sapiens, “a wise man.” This opinion, I am persuaded,
requires only to be examined to be universally adopted. If
this be the case, the infinitive which affirms nothing, cannot,
without impropriety, be deemed a verb. It expresses merely
an action, passion, or state abstractedly. Hence many grammarians
have justly considered it as no part of the verb; and,
in the languages of Greece and Rome, the infinitive was
employed like a common substantive, having frequently an
adjective joined with it, and subject to the government of
verbs and prepositions. This opinion has been lately controverted
by a writer of considerable eminence as a Latin
scholar. But, after examining the matter with attention, I
take upon me to affirm, that not a single example can be produced
wherein the infinitive, as used by the Greeks and
Romans, might not be supplied by the substitution of a noun.
Wherefore, admitting the established principle, voces valent
significatione, there cannot exist a doubt that the infinitive,
which may in all cases be supplied by a noun, has
itself the real character of a noun. And, if the essence of a
verb consist in predication, and not, as some think, in implying
time in conjunction with an attribute, which is the characteristic
of a participle, then the infinitive, as it can predicate
nothing, and joined to a substantive makes no sentence,
cannot therefore be deemed a verb. When I say, legere est
facile, “to read is easy,” it is obvious that there is only one
sentence in each of these expressions. But if legere (to read)
were a verb as well as est (is), then there would be two verbs
and also two affirmations, for affirmation is inseparable from
a verb. I remark also, that the verbal noun lectio (reading)
substituted for legere (to read) would precisely express the
same sentiment. For these reasons I concur decidedly with
those grammarians who are so far from considering the infinitive
as a distinct mood, that they entirely exclude it from
the appellation of verb[48].
It may be asked, what then is it to be called? In answer
to this query, I observe, that it matters little what designation
be assigned to it, provided its character and office be
fully understood. The ancient Latin grammarians, as Priscian
informs us, termed it properly enough, nomen verbi,
“the noun or name of the verb.” To proscribe terms, which
have been long familiar to us, and, by immemorial possession,
have gained an establishment, is always a difficult, and frequently
an ungracious task. I shall therefore retain its usual
name, having sufficiently guarded the reader against a misconception
of its character.
Now, in our language, the infinitive has not even the distinction
arising from termination, to entitle it to be ranked in
the number of moods; its form being the same with that of
the present tense, and probably, both in its termination and
its prefix, originally identical. For, if the doctrine just proposed
be correct, the word do was put before each. To this
rule the English language furnishes only one exception,
namely, the verb of existence, in which the present indicative
is am, whereas the infinitive is to be. This, however, can
scarcely be deemed an exception, when it is considered, that
the present indicative of this verb was originally be as well as
am; though the former be now in a state of obsolescence, or
rather entirely obsolete. At the same time, as this is the only
verb in which the infinitive differs in form from the present
of the indicative, I have judged it necessary to note the exception,
and assign the infinitive.
| Present part. |
Being |
| Past part. |
Been[49]. |
| TO DO. |
| Indicative Mood. |
| Present. |
| Sing. |
I do |
Thou doest or dost |
He doeth, doth or does |
| Plur. |
We do |
Ye or you do |
They do. |
| |
| Preterperfect. |
| Sing. |
I did |
Thou didst |
He, she, or it did[50] |
| Plur. |
We did |
Ye or you did |
They did. |
| Participles. |
| Present |
Doing |
| Past |
Done. |
| TO HAVE. |
| Indicative Mood. |
| Present. |
| Sing. |
I have |
Thou hast |
He hath or has |
| Plur. |
We have |
Ye or you have |
They have. |
| |
|
Preterperfect. |
| Sing. |
I had |
Thou hadst |
He had |
| Plur. |
We had |
Ye or you had |
They had. |
| Participles. |
| Present |
Having |
| Past |
Had. |
| Liberty is expressed by the verb |
| MAY. |
| Indicative Mood. |
| Present. |
| Sing. |
I may |
Thou mayest |
He may |
| Plur. |
We may |
Ye or you may |
They may[51]. |
| |
| Preterperfect. |
| Sing. |
I might |
Thou mightest |
He might |
| Plur. |
We might |
Ye or you might |
They might. |
| Power or ability is expressed by |
| CAN. |
| Indicative Mood. |
| Present. |
| Sing. |
I can |
Thou canst |
He can |
| Plur. |
We can |
Ye or you can |
They can[52]. |
| |
| Preterperfect. |
| Sing. |
I could |
Thou couldst |
He could |
| Plur. |
We could |
Ye or you could |
They could. |
Futurition and duty are expressed by the verb shall, but
not each in the three persons.
| Indicative Mood. |
| Present. |
| Sing.[53] |
I shall |
Thou shalt |
He shall |
| Plur. |
We shall |
Ye or you shall |
They shall. |
| |
|
Preterperfect. |
| Sing. |
I should |
Thou shouldst |
He should |
| Plur. |
We should |
Ye or you should |
They should. |
| Volition and futurity are expressed by the verb to will. |
| Present. |
| Sing. |
I will |
Thou wilt |
He will |
| Plur. |
We will |
Ye or you will |
They will[54]. |
| |
| Preterperfect. |
| Sing. |
I would |
Thou wouldst |
He would |
| Plur. |
We would |
Ye or you would |
They would. |
Priestley and Lowth, who have in this been followed by
most other grammarians, call the tenses may, can, shall, will,
absolute tenses; might, could, should, would, conditional.
That might, could, should, would, frequently imply conditionality,
there can be no question; but I am persuaded that the
proper character of these tenses is unconditional affirmation,
and for these two reasons:
1st. Their formation seems to indicate that they are preterites
indicative, proceeding from their respective presents,
in the same manner as did from do, had from have, and
having therefore the same unconditional meaning. Thus, I
may, is equivalent to “I am at liberty;” I might, to “I was
at liberty;” I can, means “I am able;” I could, “I was
able;” I will, “I am willing;” I would, “I was willing.”
2dly. They are used to express unconditional meaning.
If we say, “This might prove fatal to your interest,” the
assertion of the possibility of the event is as unconditional
as absolute, as, “This may prove fatal to your interest.”
“This, if you do it, will ruin your cause,” is precisely
equivalent to, “This, were you to do it, would ruin your
cause;” equivalent as far, at least, as the unconditional
affirmation of the consequence of a supposed action is involved[55].
“I may write, if I choose,” is not more absolute
than “I might write, if I chose.” If I say, “I might have
gone to the Continent,” the expression is as unconditional
as, “I had it in my power,” “I was at liberty to go to the
Continent.” “Can you construe Lycophron?” “I cannot
now; but once I could.” “May you do as you please?”
“Not now; but once I might.” Is there any conditionality
implied in the latter clause of each of these answers? Not
the least. They are unconditionally assertive. The formation
of these tenses, therefore, being analogous to that of
preterites indicative, and their import in these examples, as
in many others which might be adduced, being unconditional
and absolute, I am inclined to consider them as preterites indicative,
agreeably to their form, and as properly unconditional
in respect to signification.
I observe, however, that though might, could, would,
should, are preterite tenses, they are frequently employed to
denote present time[56]; but in such examples care must be
taken that congruity of tense be preserved, and that the subsequent
be expressed in the same tense with the antecedent
verb. Thus I say, “I may go if I choose,” where the liberty
and inclination are each expressed as present; or, “I
might go if I chose,” where, though present time be implied,
the liberty is expressed by the preterite, and the inclination
is denoted by the same tense.
Before I proceed to show how these auxiliary verbs are
joined with others, to express the intended accessary ideas,
I shall offer a few observations on the participle.
A participle is a part of speech derived from a verb, agreeing
with its primitive in denoting action, being, or suffering,
but differing from it in this, that the participle implies no
affirmation[57].
There are two participles, the present, ending in ing, as
reading[58]; and the perfect or past, generally ending in d or
ed, as heard, loved.
The present participle denotes the relatively present, or
the contemporary continuation of an action, or state of being.
If we say, “James was building the house,” the participle
expresses the continuation of the action, and the verb may
be considered as active. If we say, “the house was building,
when the wall fell,” the participle, the same as in the
preceding example, denotes here the continuation of a state
of suffering, or being acted upon; and the verb may be considered
as passive. This participle, therefore, denoting either
action or passion, cannot with propriety be considered, as it
has been by some grammarians, as entirely an active participle.
Its distinctive and real character is, that in point of
time it denotes the relatively present, and may therefore be
called the present participle; and, in regard to action or
passion, it denotes their continuance or incompletion, and
may therefore be termed imperfect. In respect to time,
therefore, it is present; in respect to the action or state of
being, it is continued or imperfect. But whether it express
action or passion can be ascertained only by inquiring
whether the subject be acting or suffering; and this is a
question which judgment only can decide, the participle itself
not determining the point. If we say, “the prisoner
was burning,” our knowledge of the subject only can enable
us to determine whether the prisoner was active or passive;
whether he was employing fire to consume, or was himself
consuming by fire.
The other participle, ending generally in ed or d, has been
called by some grammarians the passive participle, in contradistinction
to the one which we have now been considering,
and which they have termed the active participle.
“This participle has been so called,” says the author of the
British Grammar, “because, joined with the verb to be, it
forms the passive voice.” If the reason here assigned justify
its denomination as a passive participle, there exists the
same reason for calling it an active participle; for, with the
verb to have, it forms some of the compound tenses of the
active voice. The truth is, that, as those grammarians have
erred who consider the participle in ing as an active participle,
when it in fact denotes either action or passion, so those,
on the other hand, commit a similar mistake, who regard the
participle in ed as purely passive. A little attention will
suffice to show that it belongs to neither the one voice nor
the other peculiarly: and that it denotes merely completion
or perfection, in contradistinction to the other participle,
which expresses imperfection or continuation. If it be true,
indeed, that the participle in ing does not belong to the
active voice only, but expresses merely the continuation of
any act, passion, or state of being, analogy would incline us
to infer, that the participle in ed, which denotes the completion
of an act or state of being, cannot belong exclusively to
the passive voice; and I conceive that, on inquiry, we shall
find this to be the case. If I say, “he had concealed a
poniard under his coat,” the participle here would be considered
as active. If I say, “he had a poniard concealed
under his clothes,” the participle would be regarded as
passive. Does not this prove that this participle is ambiguous,
that it properly belongs to neither voice, and that
the context only, or the arrangement, can determine, whether
it denote the perfection of an action, or the completion of a
passion or state of being? When I say, “Lucretia stabbed
herself with a dagger, which she had concealed under her
clothes,” it is impossible to ascertain whether the participle
be active or passive, that is, whether the verb had be here
merely an auxiliary verb, or be synonymous with the verb to
possess. If the former be intended, the syntactical collocation
is, “she had concealed (which) dagger under her clothes:”
if the latter, the grammatical order is, “she had which dagger
concealed:” and it requires but little discernment to perceive
that “she had concealed a dagger,” and “had a dagger concealed,”
are expressions by no means precisely equivalent.
I need not here remind the classical scholar, that the Latins
had two distinct forms of expression to mark this diversity;
the one, quem abdiderat, and the other quem abditum habebat.
The latter is the phraseology of Livy, describing the
suicide of Lucretia. His words, if translated, “which she
had concealed,” become ambiguous; for this is equally a
translation of quem abdiderat. It is observable also, that
the phrase quem abdiderat would not imply, that the dagger
was in the possession of Lucretia at the time.
The participle in ed, therefore, I consider to be perfectly
analogous to the participle in ing, and used like it in either
an active or passive sense; belonging, therefore, neither to
the one voice nor the other exclusively, but denoting the
completion of an action or state of being, while the participle
in ing denotes its continuation.
In exhibiting a paradigm of the conjugation of our verbs,
many grammarians have implicitly and servilely copied the
Latin grammar, transferring into our language the names
both of tenses and moods which have formally no existence
in English. “I may burn,” is denominated, by the author
of the British Grammar, the present subjunctive; “I might
burn,” the imperfect subjunctive; “I may have burned,” the
preterperfect; and so on. This is directly repugnant to the
simplicity of our language, and is in truth as absurd as it
would be to call “we two love,” the dual number of the present
tense; or “he shall soon be buried,” a paulo post
future. Were this principle carried its full length, we
should have all the tenses, moods, and numbers, which are
to be found in Greek or Latin. It appears to me, that
nothing but prejudice or affectation could have prompted our
English grammarians to desert the simple structure of their
own language, and wantonly to perplex it with technical
terms, for things not existing in the language itself.
I purpose, therefore, in exhibiting the conjugation of the
English verb, to give the simple tenses, as the only ones belonging
to our language; and then show how, by the aid of
other words combined with these, we contrive to express the
requisite modifications, and various accessary ideas.
| Indicative Present. |
Preter. |
Part. Perf. |
| Write |
Wrote |
Written. |
| Present Tense. |
| S. |
I write |
Thou writest |
He writes or writeth |
| P. |
We write |
Ye or you write |
They write. |
This tense is by some grammarians called the present indefinite;
while by others it is considered as either definite or indefinite.
When it expresses an action now present, it is
termed the present definite, as,
“I write this after a severe illness.”—Pope’s Letters.
“Saul, why persecutest thou me?”—Bible.
“This day begins the woe, others must end.”—Shakspeare.
If the proposition expressed be general, or true at all times,
this tense is then termed the present indefinite; as, “The
wicked flee, when no man pursueth.”
“Through tatter’d clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all.”—Shakspeare.
| Preterperfect. |
| S. |
I wrote |
Thou wrotest |
He wrote |
| P. |
We wrote |
Ye or you wrote |
They wrote. |
This tense is indefinite, no particular past time being
implied.
These are the only two tenses in our language formed by
varying the termination; the only two tenses, therefore, which
properly belong to it.
| Present Progressive, or continued. |
| S. |
I am writing |
Thou art writing |
He is writing |
| P. |
We are writing |
You are writing |
They are writing. |
This tense denotes a present action proceeding. In regard
to time, it has been termed definite; and, in respect to
action, it differs from the other present in this, that the
former has no reference either to the perfection or imperfection
of the action; whereas this denotes that the action is
continued and imperfect.
| Present Emphatic. |
| S. |
I do write |
Thou dost write |
He doth or does write |
| P. |
We do write |
Ye or you do write |
They do write. |
This form of the verb is emphatic, and generally implies
doubt or contradiction on the part of the person addressed,
to remove which the assertion is enforced by the auxiliary
verb. In respect to time and action, it is precisely the same
with I write.
“You cannot dread an honourable death.”
“I do dread it.”
“Excellent wretch! perdition seize my soul, but I do love
thee.”
Cancel the auxiliary verb, and the expression becomes
feeble and spiritless. This is one of those phraseologies,
which it would be impossible to render in a transpositive
language. Di me perdant, quin te amem, is an expression
comparatively exanimate and insipid.
| Preterite, Indefinite, and Emphatic. |
| S. |
I did write |
Thou didst write |
He did write |
| P. |
We did write |
You did write |
They did write. |
as, “This to me in dreadful secrecy impart they did.” The
emphasis here, however, may partly arise from the inverted
collocation. The following example is therefore more apposite.
“I have been told that you have slighted me, and
said, I feared to face my enemy. You surely did not wrong
me thus?” “I did say so.”
This tense is indefinite, in respect both to the time, and
the completion of the action.
| Preter. Imp. &c. continued. |
| S. |
I was writing |
Thou wast writing |
He was writing |
| P. |
We were writing |
Ye were writing |
They were writing. |
This tense denotes that an action was proceeding, or going
on, at a time past either specified or implied, as “I was
writing when you called.”
| Preterperfect. |
| S. |
I have |
Thou hast |
He has |
} |
written. |
| P. |
We have |
You have |
They have |
} |
This tense expresses time as past, and the action as perfect.
It is compounded of the present tense of the verb denoting
possession and the perfect participle. It signifies a
perfect action either newly finished, or in a time of which
there is some part to elapse, or an action whose consequences
extend to the present. In short, it clearly refers to present
time. This, indeed, the composition of the tense manifestly
evinces. Thus, “I have written a letter,” means “I possess
at present the finished action of writing a letter.” This
phraseology, I acknowledge, seems uncouth and inelegant;
but, how awkward soever it may appear, the tense is unquestionably
thus resolvable.
1st. It expresses an action newly finished, as, “I understand
that a messenger has arrived from Paris,” that is,
“newly,” or “just now,” arrived.
2dly. An action done in a space of time, part of which is
yet to elapse; as, “It has rained all this week,” “We have
seen strange things this century.”
3dly. An action perfected some time ago, but whose consequences
extend to the present time; as, “I have wasted my
time, and now suffer for my folly.”
This tense has been termed, by some grammarians, the
perfect indefinite, and “I wrote,” the perfect definite. The
argument which they offer for this denomination is, that the
latter admits a definitive, to specify the precise time, and the
former rejects it. Those who reason in this manner seem to
me not only chargeable with a perversion of terms, but also
to disprove their own theory. For what is meant by a definite
term? Not surely that which admits or requires a definitive
to give it precision; but that which of itself is already
definite. If, therefore, “I wrote,” not only admits, but even
requires, the subjunction of a defining term or clause to render
the time definite and precise, it cannot surely be itself a definite
tense. Besides, they appear to me to reason in this
case inconsistently with their own principles. For they call
I am writing a definite tense; and why? but because it defines
the action to be imperfect, or the time to be relatively
present[59]. But if they reason here as they do in respect to
the preterite tenses, they ought to call this an indefinite tense,
because it admits not a definitive clause. They must, therefore,
either acknowledge that I have written is a definite
tense, and I wrote, indefinite; or they must, contrary to their
own principles, call I am writing indefinite.
Dr. Arthur Browne, in an Essay on the Greek Tenses[60],
contends, that I wrote is the perfect definite, and I have
written the perfect indefinite. “I wrote,” says he, “is not
intelligible without referring to some precise point of time,
e.g. when I was in France. Why, then, does Dr. Beattie say
I wrote is indefinite, because it refers to no particular past
time? No: it is indefinite because the verb in that tense does
not define whether the action be complete or not complete.
And why does he say, I have written is definite in respect
of time? for it refers to no particular time at which the event
happened. Put this example: A says to B, ‘I wish you
would write to that man.’ ‘I have written to him,’ the sense
is complete; the expression is not supposed to refer to any particular
time, and does not necessarily elicit any further inquiry.
But if B answers, ‘I wrote to him,’ he is of course supposed
to have in his mind a reference to some particular time, and
it naturally calls on A to ask when? It is not clear, then,
that I wrote refers to some particular time, and cannot have
been called indefinite, as Dr. Beattie supposes, from its not
doing so?”
Dr. Browne’s argument is chargeable with inconsistency.
He says, that because I have written elicits no farther inquiry,
and renders the sense complete, it denotes no determinate
time; and that I wrote refers to a particular time,
prompting to farther inquiry. This at least I take to be the
scope of his reasoning; for if it be not from their occasioning,
or not occasioning, farther interrogation, that he deduces his
conclusion concerning the nature of these tenses, his argument
seems nothing but pure assertion. Now, so far from
calling that a definite tense, which necessarily requires, as he
himself states, a defining clause to specify the point of time,
I should call it an indefinite tense. He admits that I wrote
refers to time past in general, and that it requires some farther
specification to render the time known, as I wrote yesterday.
In this case, surely it is not the term wrote, but
yesterday, which defines the precise time; the tense itself expressing
nothing but past time in general.
For the same reason, if, as he acknowledges, I have written
elicits no farther inquiry, it is an argument that the sense is
complete, and the time sufficiently understood by the hearer.
Besides, is it not somewhat paradoxical to say that a tense
which renders farther explanation unnecessary, and the sense
complete, thus satisfying the hearer, is indefinite? and that a
tense which does not satisfy the hearer, but renders farther
inquiry necessary, is definite? This, to say the least, is somewhat
extraordinary.
The observations of Lord Monboddo on this subject are
not inapplicable to the point in question: I shall therefore
transcribe them.
“There are actions,” says he, “which end in energy, and
produce no work which remains after them. What shall we
say of such actions? cannot we say, I have danced a dance,
taken a walk, &c., and how can such actions be said in any
sense to be present? My answer is, that the consequences
of such actions, respecting the speaker, or some other person
or thing, are present, and what these consequences are, appears
from the tenor of the discourse. ‘I have taken a
walk, and am much better for it.’ ‘I have danced a dance,
and am inclined to dance no more.’”
The order of nature being maintained, as Mr. Harris observes,
by a succession of contrarieties, the termination of
one state of things naturally implies the commencement of its
contrary. Hence this tense has been employed to denote an
attribute the contrary to that which is expressed by the verb.
Thus the Latins used vixit, “he hath lived,” to denote “he
is dead;” fuit Ilium, “Troy has been,” to signify Troy is no
more. A similar phraseology obtains in English; thus, “I
have been young,” is equivalent to “now I am old.”
| Preter Imperfect. |
| Sing. |
I have been |
Thou hast been |
He has been |
} |
writing. |
| Plur. |
We have been |
You have been |
They have been |
} |
This tense, in respect to time, is the same as the last, but
implies the imperfection of the action, and denotes its progression.
| Preter Pluperfect. |
| Sing. |
I had |
Thou hadst |
He had |
} |
written. |
| Plur. |
We had |
Ye or you had |
They had |
} |
This tense denotes that an action was perfected before another
action was done.
| Plusquam Preterite Imperfect. |
| Sing. |
I had been |
Thou hadst been |
He had been |
} |
writing. |
| Plur. |
We had been |
Ye had been |
They had been |
} |
This tense, in respect to time, is more than past, and in respect
to action is imperfect. It denotes that an action was
going on, or in a state of progression, before another action
took place, or before it was perfected; as, “I had been
writing before you arrived.”
| Future Indefinite. |
| Sing. |
I shall |
Thou shalt |
He shall |
} |
write. |
| Plur. |
We shall |
Ye or you shall |
They shall |
} |
| OR |
| Sing. |
I will |
Thou wilt |
He will |
} |
write. |
| Plur. |
We will |
Ye or you will |
They will |
} |
These compound tenses denote the futurity of an action indefinitely,
without any reference to its completion. The
meaning of the several persons has been already explained.
| Future Imp. Progressive. |
| I shall or will be |
We shall or will be |
} |
| Thou shalt or wilt be |
Ye shall or will be |
} |
writing. |
| He shall or will be |
They shall or will be |
} |
This tense agrees with the former in respect to time, but
differs from it in this, that the former has no reference to the
completion of the action, while the latter expresses its imperfection
and progression.
| Future Perfect. |
| I shall have |
We shall have |
} |
| Thou shalt have |
Ye shall have |
} |
written. |
| He shall have |
They shall have |
} |
This tense denotes that a future action will be perfected,
before the commencement or completion of another action,
or before a certain future time; as, “Before you can have an
answer, I shall have written a second letter.” “By the time
he shall have arrived, you will have conquered every difficulty.”
In short, it denotes, that at some future time an
action will be perfected.
As it has been a subject of great controversy among grammarians,
what tenses should be called definite and what indefinite,
I shall now offer a few observations which may
serve to illustrate the point in question.
Duration, like space, is continuous and uninterrupted. It
is divisible in idea only. It is past or future, merely in respect
to some intermediate point, which the mind fixes as
the limit between the one and the other. Present time, in
truth, does not exist, any more than a mathematical line
can have breadth, or a mathematical point be composed
of parts. This position has, indeed, been controverted
by Dr. Beattie; but, in my judgment, without the
shadow of philosophical argument[61]. Harris, Reid, and
several others, have incontrovertibly proved it. But though
present time, philosophically speaking, has no existence, we
find it convenient to assume a certain portion of the past and
the future, as intermediate spaces between these extremes,
and to consider these spaces as present; for example, the
present day, the present week, the present year, the present
century, though part of these several periods be past, and part
to come. We speak of them, however, as present, as “this
month,” “this year,” “this day.” Time being thus in its
nature continuous, and past and future being merely relative
terms, some, portion or point of time being conceived where
the one begins and the other ends, it is obvious that all
tenses indicative of any of these two general divisions must
denote relative time, that is, time past or future, in relation
to some conceived or assumed space; thus it may be past or
future, in respect to the present hour, the present day, the
present week.
Again. The term indefinite is applicable either to time or
to action. It may, therefore, be the predicate of a tense denoting
either that the precise time is left undetermined, or
that the action specified is not signified, as either complete or
imperfect. Hence the controversy has been partly verbal.
Hence, also, the contending parties have seemed to differ, while,
in fact, they were agreed; and, on the contrary, have seemed
to accord, while their opinions were, in truth, mutually repugnant.
Dr. Browne confines the term to action only, and pleads
the authority of Mr. Harris in his favour. It is true, indeed,
that Mr. Harris calls those tenses definite which denote the
beginning, the middle, or the perfection of an action: but it
is obvious, from the most superficial examination of his
theory, that he denominates the tenses definite or indefinite,
not in respect to action, but to time. When, in the passage
from Milton,
“Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth,
Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep;”
he considers “walk” as indefinite, is it in regard to action?
No. “It is,” says he, “because they were walking, not at
that instant only, but indefinitely, at any instant whatever.”
And when he terms, Thou shalt not kill, an indefinite tense, is
it because it has no reference to the completion or the imperfection
of the action? No; it is “because,” says he, “this
means no particular future time, but is extended indefinitely
to every part of time.” Besides, if Mr. Harris’s and Dr.
Browne’s ideas coincide, how comes it that the one calls that
a definite tense, which the other terms indefinite? This does
not look like accordance in sentiment, or in the application
of terms. Yet the tenses in such examples as these,
“The wicked flee when no man pursueth;”
“Ad pœnitendum properat, cito qui judicat;”
“God is good;” “Two and two are four;”
which Harris and Beattie properly call indefinite, Browne
terms definite. Nay, he denominates them thus for the very
reason for which the others call them indefinite, namely, because
the sentiments are always true, and the time of their
existence never perfectly past. So far in respect to Mr.
Harris’s authority in favour of Browne, when he confines the
terms definite and indefinite to action only[62].
But I forbear to prosecute this controversy further, or to
point out the inaccuracies with which I apprehend many
writers on this subject are chargeable. I therefore proceed
to review and illustrate the doctrine of the tenses which I
have already offered.
The present time being, as I have already observed, an
assumed space, and of no definite extent, as it may be either
the present minute, the present hour, the present month, the
present year, all of which consist of parts, it follows that, as
the present time is itself indefinite, having no real existence,
but being an arbitrary conception of the mind, the tense
significant of that time must be also indefinite. This, I conceive,
must be sufficiently evident. Hence the present tense
not only admits, but frequently requires, the definitive now to
limit the interval between past and future, or to note the
precise point of time.
Time past and time future are conceived as infinitely more
extended than the present. The tenses, therefore, significant
of these two grand divisions of time, are also necessarily indefinite.
Again, an action may be expressed, either as finished, or
as proceeding; or it may be the subject of affirmation, without
any reference to either of these states. In English, to
denote the continuation of the action we employ the present
or imperfect participle; and to denote its completion we use
the preterite or perfect participle. When neither is implied,
the tenses significant of the three divisions of time, without
any regard to the action as complete or imperfect, are uniformly
employed.
The tenses, therefore, indefinite as to time and action are
these:
| The Present |
I write |
| The Preterite |
I wrote |
| The Future |
I shall write. |
The six following compound tenses are equally indefinite
in point of time; but they denote either the completion or
the progress of the action, and in this respect are definite.
| Its progress. |
Its perfection, as |
| I am writing |
I have written |
| I was writing |
I had written |
| I shall be writing |
I shall have written. |
I write I am writing I have written.
The first is indefinite as to time and action. If I say, “I
write,” it is impossible to ascertain by the mere expression,
whether be signified, “I write now,” “I write daily,” or, “I
am a writer in general.” It is the concomitant circumstances
only, either expressed or understood, which can determine
what part of the present time is implied. When Pope introduces
a letter to Lady M. W. Montague with these words,
“I write this after a severe illness,” is it the tense which
marks the time, or is it not the date of the letter, with which
the writing is understood to be contemporary? If you and
I should see a person writing, and either of us should say,
“He writes,” the proposition would be particular, and time
present with the speaker’s observation would be understood:
but, is it not evident, that it is not the tense which defines
the present now, but the obvious circumstances of the person’s
writing at the time? And when the king, in Hamlet, says,
“My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go,”
what renders the two first propositions particular, or confines
the tenses to the time then present, while the last proposition
is universally true, and the tense indefinite? Nothing, I
conceive, but the circumstances of the speaker. Nay, does
it not frequently happen, that we must subjoin the word now
to this tense, in order to define the point of time? Did the
tense of itself note the precise time, this definitive would in
no case be necessary. If I say, “Apples are ripe,” the proposition,
considered independently on adventitious circumstances,
is general and indefinite. The time may be defined
by adding a specific clause, as, “in the month of October;”
or, if nothing be subjoined, the ellipsis is supplied either by
the previous conversation, or in some other way, and the
hearer understands, “are now ripe.” This tense, therefore,
I consider as indefinite in point of time. That it is indefinite
in regard to action, there can be no question.
I am writing.
This tense also is indefinite in respect to time. It derives
its character as a tense from the verb am, which implies
affirmation with time, either now, generally, or always. Mr.
Harris calls it the present definite, as I have already remarked;
and in regard to action it is clearly definite. It is
this, and this only, which distinguishes it from the other
present, I write, the latter having no reference to the perfection
or imperfection of the action, while I am writing
denotes its continuation. Hence it is, that the latter is employed
to express propositions generally or universally true,
the idea of perfection or incompletion being, in such cases,
excluded. Thus we say, The wicked flee when no man pursueth;
but not, as I conceive, with equal propriety, The
wicked are fleeing when no man is pursuing.
I have written.
As I am writing denotes the present continuation of an
action, so I have written expresses an action completed in
a time supposed to be continued to the present, or an action
whose consequences extend to the present time. As a tense,
it derives its character from the tense I have, significant of
present time; while the perfection of the action is denoted
by the perfect participle. But as I have shown that every
tense significant of present time must be, in regard to time,
indefinite, so this tense, compounded of the present tense
I have, must, in this respect, be therefore indefinite.
Lowth, Priestley, Beattie, Harris, and several others, have
assigned it the name of the preterite definite, and I wrote
they have termed the preterite indefinite. Browne, and one
or two others, have reversed this denomination. Now, that
I wrote does not of itself define what part of past time is
specified, appears to me very evident. This is, indeed, admitted
by those who contend for the definite nature of this
tense. Why, then, do they call it a definite tense? Because,
they say, it admits a definitive term, by the aid of which it
expresses the precise time, as, “I wrote yesterday,” “a
week ago,” “last month;” whereas we cannot say, “I have
written yesterday.” Now, as I remarked before, this appears
to me a perversion of language; for we do not denominate
that term definite, which requires a definitive to render it
precise. Why have the terms the, this, that, been called
definitives? Is it because they admit a defining term? or
is it not because they limit or define the import of general
terms? I concur, therefore, with the author of the article
“Aorist,” in the “Nouvelle Encyclopédie,” when he ridicules
a M. Demandre for giving the character of definite to
a tense which marks past time indefinitely. This certainly
is a perversion of terms.
“When we make use of the auxiliary verb,” says Dr.
Priestley, “we have no idea of any certain portion of time
intervening between the time of action and the time of speaking
of it; the time of action being some period that extends
to the present, as, ‘I have this year, this morning, written,’
spoken in the same year, the same morning; whereas, speaking
of an action done in a period past, we use the preterite
tense and say, ‘I wrote,’ intimating that a certain portion of
time is past, between the time of action and the time of
speaking of it.” To the same purpose nearly are the words
of the author of the article “Grammar,” in the “Encyclopedia
Britannica.” “I have written,” says he, “is always
joined with a portion of time which includes the present
now or instant; for otherwise it could not signify, as it
always does, the present possession of the finishing of an
action. But the aorist, which signifies no such possession,
is as constantly joined with a portion of past time, which
excludes the present now or instant. Thus we say, ‘I have
written a letter this day,’ ‘this week,’ &c., but ‘I wrote a
letter yesterday;’ and to interchange these expressions would
be improper.”
The explanation which these grammarians have given of
the tense I have written, appears to me perfectly correct, and
I would add, that, though the interval between the time of
action and the time of speaking of it may be considerable;
yet, if the mind, in consequence of the effect’s being extended
to the present time, should conceive no time to have
intervened, this tense is uniformly employed.
That the aorist excludes the present instant is equally
true: but that it is incapable of being joined, as the latter
of these grammarians supposes, to a portion of time part of
which is not yet elapsed, is an assertion by no means correct;
for I can say, “I wrote to-day,” or “this day,” as well as,
“I have written.” “I dined to-day,” says Swift, “with Mr.
Secretary St. John.” “I took some good walks in the park
to-day.” “I walked purely to-day about the park.” “I
was this morning with Mr. Secretary about some business.”
Numberless other examples might be produced in which this
tense is joined with a portion of time not wholly elapsed.
What then, it may be asked, is the difference between this
and the tense which is termed the preterite definite? I shall
endeavour to explain it, though, in doing this, I may be
chargeable with repetition.
When an action is done in a time continuous to the present
instant, we employ the auxiliary verb. Thus on finishing
a letter I say, “I have written my letter,” “I possess
(now) the finished action of writing a letter.”
Again: When an action is done in a space of time which
the mind assumes as present, or when we express our immediate
possession of things done in that space, we use the
auxiliary verb. “I have this week written several letters.”
“I have now the perfection of writing several letters, finished
this week.”[63]
Again: When an action has been done long ago, but the
mind is still in possession of its consequences, these having
been extended to the present time, unconscious or regardless
of the interval between the time of acting and the time of
speaking, we use the auxiliary verb. Thus, “I, like others,
have, in my youth, trifled with my health, and old age now
prematurely assails me.” In all these cases, there is a clear
reference to present time. I have must imply present possession,
and that the action, either as finished or proceeding,
is present to the speaker. This must be admitted, unless we
suppose that the term have has no appropriate or determinate
meaning.
On the other hand, the aorist excludes all idea of the present
instant. It supposes an interval to have elapsed between
the time of the action and the time of speaking of it;
the action is represented as leaving nothing behind it which
the mind conceives to have any relation to its present circumstances,
as “Three days ago I lodged in the Strand.”
But, though it unquestionably excludes the present instant,
or the moment of speaking, which the verb have embraces,
yet it does not exclude that portion of present time which is
represented as passing. All that is necessary to the use of
this tense is, that the present now be excluded, that an interval
have elapsed between the time of action and the time
of speaking of it, and that these times shall not appear to be
continuous. When Swift says, “It has snowed terribly all
night, and is vengeance cold,” it is to be observed, that
though the former of these events took place in a time making
no part of the day then passing, yet its effects extended to
that day; he therefore employs the auxiliary verb. When
he says, “I have been dining to-day at Lord Mountjoy’s,
and am come home to study,” he, in like manner, connects
the two circumstances as continuous.
But when he says, “It snowed all this morning, and was
some inches thick in three or four hours,” it is to be observed
that, contrary to the opinion of the author[64] I have quoted,
he joins the aorist with a portion of time then conceived as
present or passing, but the circumstances which had taken
place were nowise connected with the time of his writing,
or conceived as continuous to the date of his letter. If he
had said, “It has snowed all this morning, and is now two
inches thick,” the two times would have appeared as continuous,
their events being connected as cause and effect.
I wrote I was writing I had written.
The first of these, as a tense, has been already explained;
it remains, therefore, to inquire, whether it be definite or indefinite
in respect to action.
I observe, then, that a tense may frequently, by inference,
denote the perfection of an action, and thus appear to be definite;
though, in its real import, it be significant neither of
completion nor imperfection, and therefore, in regard to action,
is indefinite. This seems to be the character of the
tenses, I write, I wrote, I shall write.
“Mr. Harris,” says Browne, “truly calls I wrote and I
write indefinites, although the man who wrote, has written,
that is, the action is perfected, and the man who writes, is
writing, that is, the action is imperfect; but the perfection
and imperfection, though it be implied, not being expressed,
not being brought into view, (to do which the auxiliary verb
is necessary,) nor intended to be so, such tenses are properly
called indefinites.”
Though I am persuaded that Harris and Browne, though
they concur in designing certain tenses indefinite, are in principle
by no means agreed, yet the observations of the latter,
when he confines the terms to action, appear to me incontrovertible.
I would only remark, that it is not the presence of
the auxiliary, as Browne conceives, which is necessary to
denote the completion of the action, but the introduction of
the perfect participle. Nay, I am persuaded, that, as it is
the participle in ing, and this only, which denotes the progression
or continuation of the action, this circumstance in
every other phraseology being inferred, not expressed, so I
am equally convinced, that it is the perfect participle only
which denotes the completion of the action; and that, if any
tense not compounded of this participle, express the same
idea, it is by inference, and not directly. According to this
view of the matter, a clear and simple analogy subsists among
the tenses; thus,
| First class. |
Second. |
Third. |
| I write |
I am writing |
I have written |
| I wrote |
I was writing |
I had written |
| I shall write |
I shall be writing |
I shall have written. |
Now, if the progression or the perfection of an action, as
present, past, or future, be all the possible variations, and if
these be expressed by the second and third classes, it follows
that, if there be any precise distinction between these and
the first class, or unless the latter be wholly supernumerary,
it differs in this from the second and third, that while they
express, either that the action is progressive, or that it is
complete, the first has no reference to its perfection, or imperfection.
I was writing.
This tense, like I wrote, is, in point of time, indefinite; but,
in respect to action, it is definite. It denotes that an action
was proceeding in a time past, which time must be defined
by some circumstance expressed or understood.
I had written.
This, as a tense, derives its character from the preterite of
the verb to have, implying past possession. Had being an
aorist, this tense, in regard to time, must therefore be indefinite.
In respect to action it is definite, implying, that the
action was finished. As the aorist expresses time past, and
by inference the perfection of the action, while the latter circumstance
is additionally denoted by the participle, this compound
tense is employed to denote, that an action was perfected
before another action or event, now also past, took
place.
The character of the remaining tenses seems to require no
farther explanation. I proceed therefore to consider how we
express interrogations, commands, necessity, power, liberty,
will, and some other accessary circumstances.
An interrogation is expressed by placing the nominative
after the concordant person of the tense; thus, “Thou
comest” is an affirmation; “Comest thou?” is an interrogation.
If the tense be compound, the nominative is placed
after the auxiliary, as “Dost thou come?” “Hast thou
heard?”
A command, exhortation, or entreaty, is expressed by
placing the pronoun of the second person after the simple
form of the verb; as,
| Write thou |
Write ye |
| or |
or |
| Do thou write |
Do ye write: |
and sometimes by the verb simply, the person being understood;
as, write, run, be, let[65]. By the help of the word let,
which is equivalent to “permit thou,” or “permit ye,” we
express the persons of the Latin and Greek imperatives;
thus, let me, let us, let him, let them, write.
Present necessity is denoted by the verb must, thus,
| I must |
Thou must |
He must |
} |
write[66]. |
| We must |
Ye must |
They must |
} |
This verb having only one tense, namely, the present, past
necessity is expressed by the preterite definite of the verb,
significant of the thing necessary, as,
| I must have |
Thou must have, &c. |
} |
written. |
| We must have |
Ye must have, &c. |
} |
| Present Liberty. |
| I may |
Thou mayest |
He may |
} |
write. |
| We may |
Ye may |
They may |
} |
| |
| Past Liberty. |
| I might |
Thou mightest |
He might |
} |
write. |
| We might |
Ye might |
They might |
} |
| Or, |
| I might have |
Thou mightest have, &c. |
} |
written. |
| We might have |
Ye might have, &c. |
} |
| Present Ability. |
| I can |
Thou canst |
He can |
} |
write. |
| We can |
Ye can |
They can |
} |
| |
| Past Ability. |
| I could |
Thou couldst |
He could |
} |
write. |
| We could |
Ye could |
They could |
} |
| Or, |
| I could have |
Thou couldst have, &c. |
} |
written. |
| We could have |
Ye could have, &c. |
} |
Could, the preterite of the verb can, expressing past power
or ability, is, like the tense might of the verb may, frequently
employed to denote present time. Of their denoting past
time the following may serve as examples.
“Can you construe Lycophron now? No; but once I
could.”
“May you speak your sentiments freely? No; but once
I might.”
That they likewise denote present time, I have already
adduced sufficient evidence. Might and could, being frequently
used in conjunction with other verbs, to express present
time, past liberty and ability are generally denoted by
the latter phraseology; thus, “I might have written,” “I
could have written.” Some farther observations respecting
the nature of these tenses I purpose to make, when I come
to consider what has been termed the subjunctive or conjunctive
mood.
| Present Duty or Obligation. |
| I ought |
Thou oughtest |
He ought |
} |
to write. |
| We ought |
Ye ought |
They ought |
} |
| |
| Past Duty. |
| I ought |
Thou oughtest |
He ought |
} |
to have |
| We ought |
Ye ought |
They ought |
} |
written. |
The same is expressed by the verb should. Ought being now
always considered as a present tense, past duty is expressed
by taking the preterite definitive of the following verb.
Having shown how most of the common accessary circumstances
are signified in our language, I proceed to explain
how we express the circumstance of suffering, or being acted
upon.
The manner of denoting this in English is simple and easy.
All that is necessary is to join the verb to be with the present
participle, if the state of suffering be imperfect or proceeding;
and with the perfect participle, if it be complete; thus,
| I am |
Thou art |
He is |
} |
written to. |
| We are |
Ye are |
They are |
} |
| |
| Preterite. |
| I was |
Thou wast |
He was |
} |
written to. |
| We were |
Ye were |
They were |
} |
| |
| I have been |
I had been |
I shall be |
} |
written to. |
| I may be |
I might be |
I could be |
} |
If the state be imperfect, the participle in ing must be substituted;
thus,
| The house is building |
} |
| The house was building |
} |
Progressive. |
| The house shall be building |
} |
| |
| The house is built |
} |
| The house was built |
} |
Perfect. |
| The house shall be built |
} |
Neuter verbs, expressing neither action nor passion, admit,
without altering their signification, either phraseology; thus,
I have arisen, or I am arisen; I was come, or I had come.
I conclude this part of the subject with a few observations
concerning the subjunctive or potential mood.
Various disputes have arisen respecting the existence and
the use of this mood; nor is there, perhaps, any other point
in grammar, on which respectable authorities are so much
divided.
That there is not in English, as in Latin, a potential mood
properly so called, appears to me unquestionable. Amarem
signifies ability or liberty[67], involving the verbs possum and
licet, and may therefore be termed a potential mood; but in
English these accessary circumstances are denoted by the preterites
of the verbs may and can; as, I might or could love.
That there is no subjunctive mood, we have, I conceive,
equal authority to assert. If I say in Latin, cum cepisset,
“when he had taken,” the verb is strictly in the subjunctive
mood; for, were not the verb subjoined to cum, it must have
taken the indicative form; but I hesitate not to assert, that
no example can be produced in English, where the indicative
form is altered merely because the verb is preceded by some
conjunctive particle. If we say, “though he were rich, he
would not despise the poor,” was is not here turned into were
because subjoined to though; for though is joined to the indicative
mood, when the sentiment requires it; the verb therefore
is not in the subjunctive mood.
In respect to what has been denominated the conditional
form of the verb, I observe, that the existence of this form
appears to me highly questionable. My reasons are these:
1st. Several of our grammarians have not mentioned it;
among these are the celebrated Dr. Wallis, and the author of
the British Grammar.
2dly. Those, who admit it, are not agreed concerning its
extent. Lowth and Johnson confine it to the present tense,
while Priestley extends it to the preterite.
3dly. The example which Priestley adduces of the conditional
preterite, if thou drew, with a few others which might
be mentioned, are acknowledged by himself to be so stiff and
so harsh, that I am inclined to regard them rather as anomalies,
than as constituting an authority for a general rule.
4thly. If then this form be, agreeably to the opinions of
Lowth and Johnson, confined to the present tense, I must
say that I have not been able to find a single example, in
which the present conditional, as it is termed, is anything
but an ellipsis of the auxiliary verb.
5thly. Those who admit this mood make it nothing but the
plural number of the correspondent indicative tense without
variation; as I love, thou love, he love, &c. Now as this is,
in fact, the radical form of the verb, or what may be deemed
the infinitive, as following an auxiliary, it forms a presumption
that it is truly an infinitive mood, the auxiliary
being suppressed.
The opinion here given will, I think, be confirmed by the
following examples.
“If he say so, it is well,” i.e. “if he shall say so.”
“Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him,” (Bible) i.e.
“though he should slay.”
“Though thou detain me, I will not eat,” (Ibid.) i.e.
“shouldst detain me.”
“If thy brother trespass against thee,” (Ibid.) i.e. “should
trespass.”
“Though he fall, he shall not utterly be cast down,” (Ibid.)
i.e. “though he should fall.”
“Remember that thou keep holy the sabbath day,” (Ibid.)
i.e. “thou shouldst keep.”
There are a few examples in the use of the auxiliaries do
and have, in which, when the ellipsis is supplied, the expression
appears somewhat uncouth; but I am persuaded
that a little attention will show, that these examples form no
exception to this theory.
“If now thou do prosper my way.”—Bible. It is here
obvious, that the event supposed was future; the appropriate
term, therefore, to express that idea, is either shall or will.
If the phrase were, “if thou prosper my way,” it would be
universally admitted that the auxiliary is suppressed, thus,
“if thou shalt or wilt prosper my way.” Again, when we
say, “if thou do it, I shall be displeased,” it is equally evident
that the auxiliary is understood, thus, “if thou shalt do
it.” Now, if these examples be duly considered, and if the
import of the verb to do, as formerly explained, be remembered,
I think it will appear that the expression is elliptical,
and truly proceeds thus, “if thou (shalt) do prosper my way.”
The same observations are applicable to Shakspeare’s phraseology,
when he says, “if thou do pardon, whosoever pray.”
Again; when Hamlet says, “if damned custom have not
brazed it so,” it is obvious that the auxiliary verb may is
understood; for, if the expression be cleared of the negative,
the insertion of the auxiliary creates no uncouthness;
thus, “if damned custom may have brazed it so.”
I am therefore inclined to think, that the conditional form,
unless in the verb to be[68], has no existence in our language.
Though this be not strictly the proper place, I would beg
the reader’s attention to a few additional observations.
Many writers of classic eminence express future and contingent
events by the present tense indicative. In colloquial
language, or where the other form would render the expression
stiff and awkward, this practice cannot justly be
reprehended. But where this is not the case, the proper
form, in which the note of contingency or futurity is either
expressed or understood, is certainly preferable. Thus,
“If thou neglectest, or doest unwillingly, what I command
thee, I will rack thee with old cramps.”—Shakspeare.
Better, I think, “if thou shalt neglect or do.”
“If any member absents himself, he shall forfeit a penny
for the use of the club.”—Spectator. Better, “if any member
absent, or shall absent.”
“If the stage becomes a nursery of folly and impertinence,
I shall not be afraid to animadvert upon it.”—Spectator.
Preferably thus, “If the stage become, or shall become.”
I observe also, that there is something peculiar and deserving
attention in the use of the preterite tense[69]. To illustrate
the remark, I shall take the following case. A servant
calls on me for a book; if I am uncertain whether I have it
or not, I answer, “if the book be in my library, or if I have
the book, your master shall be welcome to it:” but if I am
certain that I have not the book, I say, “if the book were
in my library, or if I had the book, it should be at your master’s
service.” Here it is obvious that when we use the
present tense it implies uncertainty of the fact; and when
we use the preterite, it implies a negation of its existence.
Thus also, a person at night would say to his friend, “if it
rain, you shall not go,” being uncertain at the time whether
it did or did not rain; but if, on looking out, he perceived it
did not rain, he would then say, “if it rained, you should
not go,” intimating that it did not rain.
“Nay, and the villains march wide between the legs, as if
they had gyves on.”—Shakspeare. Where as if they had
implies that “they had not.”
In the same manner, if I say, “I will go, if I can,” my
ability is expressed as uncertain, and its dependent event
left undetermined. But if I say, “I would go, if I could,”
my inability is expressly implied, and the dependent event
excluded. Thus also, when it is said, “if I may, I will accompany
you to the theatre,” the liberty is expressed as
doubtful; but when it is said, “if I might, I would accompany
you,” the liberty is represented as not existing.
In thus expressing the negation of the attribute, the conjunction
is often omitted, and the order inverted; thus, “if
I had the book,” or “had I the book.” “Were I Alexander,”
said Parmenio, “I would accept this offer;” or, “if I were
Alexander, I would accept.” Were is frequently used for
would be, and had for would have; as, “it were injustice to
deny the execution of the law to any individual;” that is,
“it would be injustice.” “Many acts, which had been
blameable in a peaceable government, were employed to
detect conspiracies;” where had is put for would have[70].—Hume’s
History of England.
Ambiguity is frequently created by confounding fact with
hypothesis, or making no distinction between dubitative and
assertive phraseologies. Thus, if we employ such expressions
as these, “if thou knewest,” “though he was learned,”
not only to express the certainty of a fact, but likewise to
denote a mere hypothesis as opposed to fact, we necessarily
render the expression ambiguous. It is by thus confounding
things totally distinct, that writers have been betrayed not
into ambiguity only, but even into palpable errors. In evidence
of this, I give the following example: “Though he
were divinely inspired, and spoke therefore as the oracles of
God, with supreme authority; though he were endowed with
supernatural powers, and could, therefore, have confirmed the
truth of what he asserted by miracles; yet in compliance
with the way in which human nature and reasonable creatures
are usually wrought upon, he reasoned.”—Atterbury’s
Sermons.
Here the writer expresses the inspiration and the supernatural
powers of Jesus, not as properties or virtues which
he really did possess, but which, though not possessing them,
he might be supposed to possess. Now, as his intention was
to ascribe these virtues to Jesus, as truly belonging to him, he
should have employed the indicative form was, and not were,
as in the following sentence: “though he was rich, yet for
our sakes he became poor.” “Though he were rich,” would
imply the non-existence of the attribute; in other words,
“that he was not rich.”
A very little attention would serve to prevent these ambiguities
and errors. If the attribute be conceived as unconditionally
certain, the indicative form without ellipsis must
be employed, as, “I teach,” “I had taught,” “I shall teach.”
If futurity, hypothesis, or uncertainty, be intended, with the
concessive term, the auxiliary may be either expressed or
understood, as perspicuity may require, and the taste and
judgment of the writer may dictate; thus, “if any man teach
strange doctrines, he shall be severely rebuked.” In the
former clause the auxiliary verb shall is unnecessary, and is
therefore, without impropriety, omitted. “Then hear thou in
heaven, and forgive the sin of thy servants, and of thy people
Israel, that thou teach them the good way wherein they
should walk.”—Bible. In this example the suppression of the
auxiliary verb is somewhat unfavourable to perspicuity, and
renders the clause stiff and awkward. It would be better, I
think, “thou mayest teach them the good way.” Harshness,
indeed, and the appearance of affectation, should be particularly
avoided. Where there is no manifest danger of
misconception, the use of the assertive for the dubitative form
is far preferable to those starched and pedantic phraseologies
which some writers are fond of exhibiting. For this reason,
such expressions as the following appear to me highly offensive:
“if thou have determined, we must submit;” “unless
he have consented, the writing will be void;” “if this
have been the seat of their original formation;” “unless
thou shall speak, we cannot determine.” The last I consider
as truly ungrammatical. In such cases, if the dubitative
phraseology should appear to be preferable, the stiffness and
affectation here reprehended may frequently be prevented by
inserting the note of doubt or contingency.
I observe farther, that the substitution of as for if when
the affirmation is unconditional, will often serve to prevent
ambiguity[71]. Thus, when the ant in the fable says to the
grasshopper who had trifled away the summer in singing,
“if you sung in summer, dance in winter;” as the first clause,
taken by itself, leaves the meaning somewhat ambiguous, “as
you sung,” would be the better expression.
The general rule for the formation of the preterite tense, and
the perfect participle, is to add to the present the syllable ed,
if the verb end with a consonant, or d, if it end with a
vowel, as
Turn, Turned, Turned; Love, Loved, Loved.
Verbs, which depart from this rule, are called irregular, of
which I believe the subsequent enumeration to be nearly
complete[72].
| Present. |
Preterite. |
Perfect Participle. |
| Abide |
Abode |
Abode |
| Am |
Was |
Been |
| Arise |
Arose |
Arisen |
| Awake |
Awoke R |
Awaked |
| Bake |
Baked |
Baken R |
| Bear, to bring forth |
Bore, or Bear |
Born[73] |
| Bear, to carry |
Bore, or Bear |
Borne |
| Beat |
Beat |
Beaten |
| Begin |
Began |
Begun |
| Become |
Became |
Become |
| Behold |
Beheld |
Beheld, or Beholden[74] |
| Bend |
Bent R |
Bent R |
| Bereave |
Bereft R |
Bereft R |
| Beseech |
Besought |
Besought |
| Bid |
Bade, or Bid |
Bidden |
| Bind |
Bound |
Bound |
| Bite |
Bit |
Bitten, Bit[75] |
| Bleed |
Bled |
Bled |
| Blow |
Blew |
Blown |
| Break |
Broke, or Brake |
Broken[76] |
| Breed |
Bred |
Bred |
| Bring |
Brought |
Brought |
| Build |
Built R |
Built[77] R |
| Burst |
Burst |
Burst |
| Buy |
Bought |
Bought |
| Can |
Could |
| Cast |
Cast |
Cast |
| Catch |
Caught R |
Caught R |
| Chide |
Chid[78] |
Chidden |
| Choose |
Chose |
Chosen |
| Cleave, to stick or adhere |
Clave R |
Cleaved |
| Cleave, to split |
Clove, or Clave, or Cleft |
Cloven, or Cleft |
| Cling |
Clung |
Clung |
| Climb |
Clomb[79] R |
Climbed |
| Clothe |
Clad[80] R |
Clad R |
| Come |
Came |
Come |
| Cost |
Cost |
Cost |
| Crow |
Crew R |
Crowed |
| Creep |
Crept |
Crept |
| Cut |
Cut |
Cut |
| Dare, to venture |
Durst R |
Dared |
| Dare, to challenge, is regular. |
| Deal |
Dealt R |
Dealt R |
| Dig |
Dug R |
Dug R |
| Do |
Did |
Done |
| Draw |
Drew |
Drawn |
| Drive |
Drove |
Driven |
| Drink |
Drank |
Drunk |
| Dwell |
Dwelt R |
Dwelt R |
| Eat |
Ate |
Eaten |
| Fall |
Fell |
Fallen |
| Feed |
Fed |
Fed |
| Feel |
Felt |
Felt |
| Fight |
Fought |
Fought |
| Find |
Found |
Found |
| Flee |
Fled |
Fled |
| Fly |
Flew |
Flown |
| Fling |
Flung |
Flung |
| Forget |
Forgot |
Forgotten |
| Forgo[81] |
|
Forgone |
| Forsake |
Forsook |
Forsaken |
| Freeze |
Froze |
Frozen |
| Freight |
Freighted |
Freighted, or Fraught[82] |
| Get |
Gat, or Got |
Gotten, or Got |
| Gild |
Gild R |
Gilt R |
| Gird |
Girt R |
Girt R |
| Give |
Gave |
Given |
| Go |
Went |
Gone |
| Grave |
Graved |
Graven R |
| Grind |
Ground |
Ground |
| Grow |
Grew |
Grown |
| Have |
Had |
Had |
| Hang[83] |
Hung R |
Hung R |
| Hear |
Heard |
Heard |
| Heave |
Hove[84] R |
Hoven R |
| Help |
Helped |
Holpen[85] R |
| Hew |
Hewed |
Hewn R |
| Hide |
Hid |
Hidden[86], or Hid |
| Hit |
Hit |
Hit |
| Hold |
Held |
Holden[87], or Held |
| Hurt |
Hurt |
Hurt |
| Keep |
Kept |
Kept |
| Kneel |
Knelt |
Knelt |
| Knit |
Knit, or Knitted |
Knit, or Knitted |
| Know |
Knew |
Known |
| Lade |
Laded |
Laden[88] |
| Lay |
Laid |
Laid[89] |
| Lead |
Led |
Led |
| Leave |
Left |
Left |
| Lend |
Lent |
Lent |
| Let |
Let |
Let |
| Lie, to lie down |
Lay |
Lien, or Lain[90] |
| Lift |
Lifted, or Lift |
Lifted, or Lift |
| Light |
Lighted, or Lit[91] |
Lighted, or Lit |
| Load |
Loaded |
Loaden, or Loaded |
| Lose |
Lost |
Lost |
| Make |
Made |
Made |
| May |
Might |
| Mean |
Meant R |
Meant R |
| Meet |
Met |
Met |
| Mow |
Mowed |
Mown[92] R |
| Must |
| Pay |
Paid |
Paid |
| Put |
Put |
Put |
| Quit |
Quit, or Quitted[93] |
Quit |
| Read |
Read |
Read |
| Rend |
Rent |
Rent |
| Ride |
Rode, or Rid |
Rid[94], or Ridden |
| Rid |
Rid |
Rid |
| Ring |
Rang, or Rung |
Rung |
| Rise |
Rose |
Risen |
| Rive |
Rived |
Riven |
| Roast |
Roasted |
Roasted, or Roast[95] |
| Rot |
Rotted |
Rotten R |
| Run |
Ran |
Run |
| Saw |
Sawed |
Sawn R |
| Say |
Said |
Said |
| See |
Saw |
Seen |
| Seek |
Sought |
Sought |
| Seethe |
Seethed, or Sod |
Sodden |
| Sell |
Sold |
Sold |
| Send |
Sent |
Sent |
| Set |
Set |
Set |
| Shake |
Shook |
Shaken[96] |
| Shall |
Should |
| Shape |
Shaped |
Shapen R |
| Shave |
Shaved |
Shaven R |
| Shear |
Shore |
Shorn |
| Shed |
Shed |
Shed |
| Shine |
Shone R |
Shone R |
| Shew |
Shewed |
Shewn |
| Show |
Showed |
Shown |
| Shoe |
Shod |
Shod |
| Shoot |
Shot |
Shot |
| Shrink |
Shrank[97], or Shrunk |
Shrunk |
| Shred |
Shred |
Shred |
| Shut |
Shut |
Shut |
| Sing |
Sang[98], or Sung |
Sung |
| Sink |
Sank, or Sunk |
Sunk |
| Sit |
Sat |
Sitten[99], or Sat |
| Slay |
Slew |
Slain |
| Sleep |
Slept |
Slept |
| Slide |
Slid |
Slidden |
| Sling |
Slang, or Slung |
Slung |
| Slink |
Slank, or Slunk |
Slunk |
| Slit |
Slit R |
Slit, or Slitted |
| Smite |
Smote |
Smitten |
| Sow |
Sowed |
Sown R |
| Speak |
Spoke, or Spake |
Spoken |
| Speed |
Sped |
Sped |
| Spend |
Spent |
Spent |
| Spill |
Spilt R |
Spilt R |
| Spin |
Spun, or Span |
Spun |
| Spit |
Spat, or Spit |
Spitten, or Spit |
| Split |
Split, or Splitted |
Split, Splitted |
| Spread |
Spread |
Spread |
| Spring |
Sprang, or Sprung |
Sprung |
| Stand |
Stood |
Stood |
| Steal |
Stole |
Stolen |
| Stick |
Stuck |
Stuck |
| Sting |
Stung |
Stung |
| Stink |
Stank, or Stunk |
Stunk |
| Stride |
Strode, or Strove |
Stridden |
| Strike |
Struck |
Struck, or Stricken |
| String |
Strung |
Strung |
| Strive |
Strove |
Striven |
| Strew, or Strow |
Strewed, or Strowed |
Strown |
| Swear |
Swore, or Sware |
Sworn |
| Sweat |
Sweat |
Sweat |
| Sweep |
Swept |
Swept |
| Swell |
Swelled |
Swelled, or Swollen |
| Swim |
Swam, or Swum |
Swum |
| Swing |
Swang |
Swung |
| Take |
Took |
Taken |
| Teach |
Taught |
Taught |
| Tear |
Tore, or Tare |
Torn |
| Tell |
Told |
Told |
| Think |
Thought |
Thought |
| Thrive |
Throve[100] |
Thriven |
| Throw |
Through |
Thrown |
| Thrust |
Thrust |
Thrust |
| Tread |
Trod |
Trodden |
| Wax |
Waxed |
Waxen R |
| Wash |
Washed |
Washed[101] |
| Wear |
Wore |
Worn |
| Weave |
Wove |
Woven |
| Weep |
Wept |
Wept |
| Will |
Would |
| Win |
Won |
Won |
| Wind |
Wound[102] R |
Wound |
| Work |
Wrought R |
Wrought R |
| Wring |
Wrung R |
Wrung |
| Write |
Wrote |
Written[103] |
| Writhe |
Writhed |
Writhen. |
These, as Lowth observes, are generally not only defective,
but also irregular, and are chiefly auxiliary verbs.
| Present. |
Preterite. |
Perfect Participle. |
| Must |
| May |
Might |
| Quoth |
Quoth |
| Can |
Could |
| Shall |
Should |
| Wit[104], or Wot |
Wot |
| Will[105] |
Would |
| Wis[106] |
Wist |
| Ought[107] |
The distinctive character of impersonal verbs has been a
subject of endless dispute among grammarians. Some deny
their existence in the learned languages, and others as
positively assert it. Some define them to be verbs devoid
of the two first persons; but this definition is evidently incorrect:
for, as Perizonius and Frischlinus observe, this may
be a reason for calling them defective, but not for naming
them impersonal verbs. Others have defined them to be
verbs, to which no certain person, as the subject, can be prefixed.
But with the discussion of this question, as it respects
the learned languages, the English grammarian has no concern.
I proceed, therefore, to observe, that impersonal verbs, as the
name imports, are those which do not admit a person as their
nominative. Their real character seems to be, that they
assert the existence of some action or state, but refer it to
no particular subject. In English we have very few impersonal
verbs. To this denomination, however, may certainly
be referred, it behoveth, it irketh; equivalent to, it is the
duty, it is painfully wearisome. That the former of these
verbs was once used personally, we have sufficient evidence;
and it is not improbable that the latter also was so employed,
though I have not been able to find an example of its
junction with a person. They are now invariably used as
impersonal verbs. We cannot say, I behove, thou behovest,
he behoves; we irk, ye irk, they irk.
There are one or two others, which have been considered
as impersonal verbs, in which the personal pronoun in the
objective case is prefixed to the third person singular of the
verb, as methinks, methought, meseems, meseemed; analogous
to the Latin expressions me pœnitet, me pœnituit.
You thinketh, him liketh, him seemeth, have long been
entirely obsolete. Meseems and meseemed occur in Sidney,
Spenser, and other contemporary writers; but are now universally
disused. Addison sometimes says methoughts, contrary,
I conceive, to all analogy.
An adverb is that part of speech which is joined to a verb,
adjective, or other adverb, to express some circumstance,
quality, degree, or manner of its signification; and hence
adverbs have been termed attributives of the second order.
“As the attributives hitherto mentioned,” says Mr. Harris,
“viz. adjective and verb, denote the attributes of substances,
so there is an inferior class of them, which denote the attributes
only of attributes. If I say, ‘Cicero was eloquent,’
I ascribe to him the attribute of eloquence simply and absolutely;
if I say, ‘he was exceedingly eloquent,’ I affirm
an eminent degree of eloquence, the adverb exceedingly
denoting that degree. If I say, ‘he died, fighting bravely
for his country,’ the word bravely here added to the verb
denotes the manner of the action.” An adverb is, therefore,
a word joined to a verb, or any attributive, to denote some
modification, degree, or circumstance, of the expressed attribute.
Adverbs have been divided into a variety of classes, according
to their signification. Some of those which denote
| Quality simply, are, |
Well, ill, bravely, prudently, softly, |
|
with innumerable others formed from |
|
adjectives and participles. |
| Certainty or Affirmation |
Verily, truly, undoubtedly, yea, yes, certainly. |
| Contingence |
Perhaps, peradventure, perchance. |
| Negation |
Nay, no, not, nowise. |
| Explaining |
Namely. |
| Separation |
Apart, separately, asunder. |
| Conjunction |
Together, generally, universally. |
| Indication |
Lo. |
| Interrogation |
Why, wherefore, when, how. |
| Excess or Preeminence |
Very, exceedingly, too, more, better, worse, best, worst. |
| Defect |
Almost, nearly, less, least. |
| Preference |
Rather, chiefly, especially. |
| Likeness or Equality |
So, thus, as, equally. |
| Unlikeness or Inequality |
Else, otherwise. |
| Abatement or Gradation |
Piecemeal, scarcely, hardly. |
| To or in a place |
Here, there, where. |
| To a place, only |
Hither, thither, whither. |
| Towards a place |
Hitherward, thitherward, whitherward. |
| From a place |
Hence, thence, whence. |
| Time present |
Now, to-day. |
| —— past |
Yesterday, before, heretofore, already, hitherto, lately. |
| —— future |
To-morrow, hereafter, presently, immediately, afterwards. |
| Repetition of times indef. |
Often, seldom, frequently. |
| —— Definitely |
Once, twice, thrice, again. |
| Order |
First[108], secondly, thirdly, &c. |
| Quantity |
Much, little, enough, sufficiently. |
On inquiring into the meaning and etymology of adverbs,
it will appear, that most of them are abbreviations or contractions
for two or more words. Thus, bravely, or “in a brave
manner,” is probably derived by abbreviation from brave-like,
wisely from wise-like, happily from happy-like[109]. Mr. Tooke,
indeed, has proved, as I conceive incontrovertibly, that most
of them are either corruptions of other words, or abbreviations
of phrases or of sentences. One thing is certain, that the adverb
is not an indispensable part of speech, as it serves merely
to express in one word what perhaps would otherwise require
two or more words. Thus,
| Where[110] |
denotes |
In what place |
| Here |
|
In this place |
| There |
|
In that place |
| Whither |
|
To what place |
| Hither |
|
To this place |
| Thither |
|
To that place. |
A preposition has been defined to be “that part of speech
which shows the relation that one thing bears to another.”
According to Mr. Harris, it is a part of speech devoid itself of
signification, but so formed as to unite words that are significant,
and that refuse to unite or associate of themselves.
He has, therefore, compared them to pegs or pins, which
serve to unite those parts of the building which would not,
by their own nature, incorporate or coalesce. When one considers
the formidable objections which present themselves to
this theory, and that the ingenious author now quoted has,
in defence of it, involved himself in palpable contradictions,
it becomes matter of surprise that it should have so long received
from grammarians an almost universal and implicit
assent. This furnishes one of many examples, how easily
error may be imposed and propagated by the authority of a
great name. But, though error may be repeatedly transmitted
from age to age, unsuspected and unquestioned, it cannot
be perpetuated. Mr. Horne Tooke has assailed this theory
by irresistible arguments, and demonstrated that, in our language
at least, prepositions are significant of ideas, and that,
as far as import is concerned, they do not form a distinct species
of words.
It is not, indeed, easy to imagine, that men, in the formation
of any language, would invent words insignificant, and
to which, singly, they attached no determinate idea; especially
when it is considered, that, in every stage of their existence,
from rudeness to civilization, new words would perpetually
be wanting to express new ideas. It is not, therefore, probable
that, while they were under the necessity of framing new
words, to answer the exigences of mental enlargement, and
while these demands on their invention were incessantly recurring,
they would, in addition to this, encumber themselves
with the idle and unnecessary task of forming new words to
express nothing.
But, in truth, Harris himself yields the point, when he says,
that prepositions, when compounded, transfuse something of
their meaning into the compound; for they cannot transfuse
what they do not contain, nor impart what they do not possess.
They must, therefore, be themselves significant words.
But it is not so much their meaning with which the grammarian
is concerned, as their syntactical character, their capacity
of affecting other words, or being affected by them.
In both these lights, however, I propose to consider them.
The name of preposition has been assigned to them, because
they generally precede their regimen, or the word which
they govern. What number of these words ancient and modern
languages contain, has been much disputed; some grammarians
determining a greater and some a less number. This,
indeed, of itself affords a conclusive proof that the character
of these words has not been clearly understood; for, in the
other parts of speech, noun, adjective, and verb, the discriminative
circumstances are so evident, that no doubt can arise
concerning their classification.
That most of our English prepositions have signification
per se, and form no distinct species of words, Mr. Tooke has
produced incontrovertible evidence: nor is it to be doubted,
that a perfect acquaintance with the Northern languages
would convince us, that all of them are abbreviations, corruptions,
or combinations of other words. A few of Mr.
Tooke’s examples I shall now present to the reader.
Above, from the Anglo-Saxon ufa, high; hence bufan, on
bufan, bove, above.
With, from withan, to join, of which with is the imperative;
thus, “a house with a party wall,”—“a house,
join a party wall;” or it is sometimes the imperative
of wyrthan, “to be;” hence, by and with are often
synonymous, the former being derived from beon, “to
be.”
Without, from the Saxon preposition withutan, extra, sine,
which is properly the imperative of the verb wyrthanutan,
“to be out.” Withutan, beutan, “without,”
“be out,” or “but.” The Saxon preposition occurs
frequently in the writings of Chaucer, and is still used
in Scottish poetry[111].
From[112], is simply the Anglo-Saxon and Gothic noun frum,
“beginning,” “source,” “origin;” thus, “Figs came
from Turkey;” that is, Figs came; “the source,” or
“beginning,” Turkey; to which is opposed the
word.
To, the same originally as do, signifying finishing or completion;
thus “Figs came from Turkey to England;”
“the beginning,” or “source,” Turkey; “the finishing,”
or “end,” England.
Beneath, is the imperative be, compounded with the noun
neath, of the same import with neden in Dutch, ned in
Danish, niedere in German, and nedre or neder in
Swedish, signifying the lower place; hence, the astronomical
term Nadir, opposed to Zenith. Hence also
nether and nethermost.
Between, “be twain,” “be two,” or “be separated.”[113]
| Before, |
} |
|
| Behind, |
} |
Imperative be, and the nouns, fore, hind, side, low. |
| Beside, |
} |
| Below, |
} |
Under, i.e. on neder.
Beyond, imperative be, and the participle past goned of
the verb gan, “to go:” as, “beyond the place,” i.e.
“be passed the place.”
Among, from gemong, the preterperfect of the verb mengan,
to mix, used as a participle, and signifying “mixed.”
Many other examples might be produced from Tooke’s ingenious
illustration of his theory; but those which I have
now offered suffice to prove, that our prepositions, so far
from being words insignificant, belong to the class of nouns
or verbs either single or compounded.
Besides, if prepositions denote relations, as Harris admits,
it is surely absurd to suppose, that they have no meaning;
for the relation, whether of propinquity, contiguity, approach,
or regress, &c., may be expressed, and apprehended by the
mind, though the objects between which the relation subsists
be not specified. If I hear the word with, I naturally conceive
the idea of conjunction; the reverse takes place when
I hear without. If it be said a soldier with, I have the idea
of a soldier associated with something else, which association
is denoted by with. What is conjoined to him I know not,
till the object be specified, as, “a soldier with a musquet;”
but the mere association was before sufficiently expressed,
and clearly apprehended. Again, if a person say, “he threw
a glass under,” I have instantly an idea of a glass, and of inferiority
of place, conceiving a glass removed into a situation
lower than something else. To ascertain that something, I
ask, under what? and the answer may be, under the table.
Now, if under had no meaning, this question would be insignificant,
or rather impossible.
From the examples given, I trust the young reader sufficiently
understands the difference between the doctrine of
Harris on this subject, and that of Horne Tooke; nay, I
think, he must perceive, that the former is merely a theory,
while the latter is supported by reason and fact. The syntax
of our prepositions will be afterwards explained. I shall
only observe at present, that the words which are in English
considered as prepositions, and joined to the objective case
are these:
| Above |
|
Beneath |
|
Since |
| About |
|
Below |
|
Through |
} |
| After |
|
Beside |
|
Throughout |
| Against |
|
By |
|
Till |
} |
| Among |
} |
Down |
|
Until |
| Amongst |
For |
|
To |
} |
| Amid |
} |
From |
|
Unto |
| Amidst |
In |
|
Toward |
} |
| Around |
} |
Into |
|
Towards |
| Round |
Near |
} |
Under |
} |
| At |
|
Nigh |
Underneath |
| Between |
} |
Of |
|
Up |
| Betwixt |
Off |
|
With |
| Beyond |
|
Over |
|
Within |
| Before |
|
On |
} |
Without |
| Behind |
|
Upon |
Some of these, though they are commonly joined to an objective
case, and may therefore be deemed prepositions, are,
notwithstanding, of an equivocal character, resembling the
Latin adverbs procul and prope, which govern a case by the
ellipsis of a preposition. Thus we say, “near the house”
and “near to the house,” “nigh the park,” and “nigh to the
park,” “off the table,” and “off from the table.”
Several are used as adverbs, and also as prepositions, no
ellipsis being involved, as, till, until, after, before.
There are certain particles, which are never found single
or uncompounded, and have therefore been termed inseparable
prepositions. Those purely English are, a, be, fore,
mis, un. The import of these, and of a few separable prepositions
when prefixed to other words, I proceed to explain.
A, signifies on or in, as, a foot, a shore, that is, on foot, on
shore. Webster contends, that it was originally the
same with one.
Be, signifies about, as, bestir, besprinkle, that is, stir about;
also for or before, as, bespeak, that is, speak for, or
before.
For, denies, or deprives, as, bid, forbid, seek, forsake, i.e.
bid, bid not; seek, not seek.
Fore, signifies before, as, see, foresee, that is, see beforehand.
Mis, denotes defect or error, as, take, mistake, or take
wrongly; deed, misdeed, that is, a wrong or evil deed.
Over, denotes eminence or superiority, as, come, overcome;
also excess, as, hasty, over hasty, or too hasty.
Out, signifies excess or superiority, as, do, outdo, run,
outrun, that is, “to surpass in running.”
Un, before an adjective, denotes negation, or privation,
as, worthy, unworthy, or “not worthy.” Before verbs
it denotes the undoing or the destroying of the energy
or act, expressed by the verb, as, say, unsay, that is,
“affirm,” retract the “affirmation.”
Up, denotes motion upwards, as, start, upstart; rest in a
higher place, as, hold, uphold; sometimes subversion,
as, set, upset.
With,
signifies against, as, stand, withstand, that is,
“stand against, or resist.”
The Latin prepositions used in the composition of English
words are these, ab or abs, ad, ante, con, circum, contra, de,
di, dis, e or ex, extra, in, inter, intro, ob, per, post, præ, pro,
præter, re, retro, se, sub, subter, super, trans.
A, ab, abs, signify from or away, as, to abstract, that is,
“to draw away.”
Ad, signifies to or at, as, to adhere, that is, “to stick to.”
Ante, means before, as, antecedent, that is, “going before.”
Circum, round, about, as, circumnavigate, or “sail round.”
Con, com, co, col, signify together, as, convoke, or “call
together,” co-operate, or “work together,” colleague,
“joined together.”
Contra, against, as, contradict, or “speak against.”
De, signifies down, as, deject, or “throw down.”
Di, dis, asunder, as distract, or “draw asunder.”
E, ex, out of, as, egress, or “going out,” eject, or “throw
out,” exclude, or “shut out.”
Extra, beyond, as, extraordinary, or “beyond the ordinary
or usual course.”
In, before an adjective, like un, denotes privation, as,
active, inactive, or “not active;” before a verb, it has
its simple meaning.
Inter, between, as, intervene, or “come between,” interpose,
or “put between.”
Intro, to within, as, introduce, or “lead in.”
Ob, denotes opposition, as, obstacle, that is, “something
standing in opposition,” “an impediment.”
Per, through, or thoroughly, as, perfect, or “thoroughly
done,” to perforate, or “to bore through.”
Post, after, as, postscript, or “written after,” that is, after
the letter.
Præ, before, as, prefix, or “fix before.”
Pro, forth, or forwards, as, promote, or “move forwards.”
Præter, past, or beyond, as, preternatural, or “beyond the
course of nature.”
Re, again, or back, as, retake, or “take back.”
Retro, backwards, as, retrograde, or “going backwards.”
Se, apart, or without, as, to secrete, “to put aside,” or “to
hide,” secure, “without care or apprehension.”
Subter, under, as, subterfluous, or “flowing under.”
Super, above, or over, as, superscribe, or “write above, or
over.”
Trans, over, from one place to another, as, transport, that
is, “carry over.”
The Greek prepositions and particles compounded with
English words are, a, amphi, anti, hyper, hypo, meta, peri,
syn.
A, signifies privation, as, anonymous, or “without a name.”
Amphi, both, or the two, as, amphibious, “having both
lives,” that is, “on land and on water.”
Anti, against, as, anti-covenanter, anti-jacobin, that is,
“an opponent of the covenanters,” “an enemy to the
jacobins.”
Hyper, over and above, as, hypercritical, or “over,” that
is, “too critical.”
Hypo, under, implying concealment or disguise, as, hypocrite,
“one dissembling his real character.”
Meta, denotes change or transmutation, as, to metamorphose,
or “to change the shape.”
Para, denotes sometimes propinquity or similarity, and
sometimes contrariety. It is equivalent to the Latin
terms juxta and præter, as, “to paraphrase,” παραφράζειν,
juxta alterius orationem loqui; “to speak
the meaning of another.” Paradox, “beyond,” or
“contrary to, general opinion,” or “common belief.”
Peri, round about, as, periphrasis, that is, “circumlocution.”
Syn, together, as synod, “a meeting,” or “coming together,”
sympathy, or “feeling together.”
A conjunction has been defined to be “that part of speech
which connects words and sentences together.”
Mr. Ruddiman, and several other grammarians, have
asserted, that conjunctions never connect words, but sentences.
This is evidently a mistake; for if I say, “a man
of wisdom and virtue is a perfect character,” it implies not
“that a man of wisdom is a perfect character, and a man of
virtue a perfect character,” but “a man who combines wisdom
and virtue.” The farther discussion of this question,
however, I shall at present postpone, as it will form a subject
of future inquiry.
Conjunctions have been distributed, according to their
significations, into different classes:
| Copulative, |
And, also, but, (bot). |
| Disjunctive, |
Either, or. |
| Concessive, |
Though, although, albeit, yet. |
| Adversative, |
But, however. |
| Exclusive, |
Neither, nor. |
| Causal, |
For, that, because, since. |
| Illative, |
Therefore, wherefore, then. |
| Conditional, |
If. |
| Exceptive, |
Unless. |
This distribution of the conjunctions I have given, in
conformity to general usage, that the reader may be acquainted
with the common terms by which conjunctions
have been denominated, if these terms should occur to him
in the course of reading. In respect to the real import, and
genuine character of these words, I decidedly adopt the theory
of Mr. Tooke, which considers conjunctions as no distinct
species of words, but as belonging to the class of attributives,
or as abbreviations for two or more significant words.
Agreeably to his theory, and is an abbreviation for anad,
the imperative of ananad, “to add,” or “to accumulate;”
as, “two and two make four;” that is, “two, add two, make
four.” Either is evidently an adjective expressive of “one
of two;” thus, “it is either day or night,” that is, “one of
the two, day or night.” It is derived from the Saxon ægther,
equivalent to uterque, “each.”[114]
Or is a contraction for other, a Saxon and English adjective
equivalent to alius or alter, and denotes diversity, either
of name or of subject. Hence or is sometimes a perfect disjunctive,
as when it expresses contrariety or opposition of
things; and sometimes a subdisjunctive, when it denotes
simply a diversity in name. Thus, when we say, “It is either
even or odd,” or is a perfect disjunctive, the two attributives
being directly contrary, and admitting no medium. If I say,
“Paris or Alexander” (these being names of the same individual);
or if I say, “Gravity or weight,” “Logic, or the art
of reasoning;” or in these examples is a subdisjunctive or
an explicative, as it serves to define the meaning of the preceding
term, or as it expresses the equivalence of two terms.
The Latins express the former by aut, vel, and the latter by
seu or sive. In the following sentence both conjunctions are
exemplified: “Give me either the black or the white;” i.e.
“Give me one of the two—the black—other, the white.”
To these are opposed neither, nor, as, “Give me neither
poverty nor riches;” i.e. “Give me not one of the two, poverty—nor,
i.e. not the other, riches.”
According to Mr. Tooke, the conjunction if is the imperative
of the Anglo-Saxon and Gothic verb gifan, “to give.”
Among others, he quotes the following example. “How
will the weather dispose of you to-morrow? If fair, it will
send me abroad; if foul, it will keep me at home”—i.e.
“Give,” or “grant it to be fair;” “give,” or “grant it to be foul.”
Though is the same as thaf, an imperative from thafan, to
allow, and is in some parts of the country pronounced thof;
as, “Though he should speak truth, I would not believe
him;” i.e. “allow or grant, what? he should speak truth,”
or “allow his speaking truth, I would not believe him.”
But, from beutan, the imperative of beon utan, to be out,
is the same as without or unless, there being no difference
between these in respect to meaning. Grammarians, however,
in conformity to the distinction between nisi and sine,
have called but a conjunction, and without a preposition.
But, therefore, being a word signifying exception or exclusion,
I have not termed it an “adversative,” as most
grammarians have, but an “exceptive.” In this sense it
is synonymous with præter, præterquam, or nisi; thus,
“I saw nobody but John,” i.e. “unless,” or “except John.”
But, from bot, the imperative of botan, to boot or superadd,
has a very different meaning. This word was originally
written bot, and was thus distinguished from but[115]. They
are now written alike, which tends to create confusion. The
meaning of this word is, “add,” or, “moreover.” This interpretation
is confirmed by the probable derivation and
meaning of synonymous words in other languages. Thus,
the French mais (but) is from majus, or magis, “more,” or
“in addition;” the Italian ma, the Spanish mas, and the
Dutch maar, are from the same etymon, signifying “more.”
And it is not improbable, that adsit (be it present, or be it
added) by contraction became ast and at: thus, adsit, adst,
ast, at. In this sense but is synonymous with at, autem,
cæterum, “moreover,” or “in addition.”
It is justly observed by Mr. Tooke, that bot or but allays
or mitigates a good or bad precedent, by the addition of
something; for botan means “to superadd,” “to supply,” “to
atone for,” “to compensate,” “to add something more,” “to
make amends,” or “make up deficiency.” Thus,
“Once did I lay an ambush for your life,
A trespass, that doth vex my grieved soul:
But (bot), ere I last received the sacrament,
I did confess...”
Richard II.
“Add (this) ere I last received.”
When but means be out, or without, it should, says Mr.
Tooke, be preceded by a negative; thus, instead of saying,
“I saw but John,” which means, “I saw John be out,” we
should say, “I saw none but John,” i.e. “none, John be
out,” or “had John been out,” or, “John being excluded.”
This, observes the ingenious author, is one of the most faulty
ellipses in our language, and could never have obtained, but
through the utter ignorance of the meaning of the word but
(bot).
Yet, from the imperative of getan, “to get.”
Still, from stell or steall, the imperative of stellan, ponere,
“to suppose.”
Horne Tooke observing that these words, like if and an[116],
are synonymous, accounts for their equivalence by supposing
them to be derived from verbs of the same import. His mode
of derivation, however, appears at first hearing to be incorrect:
the meaning of the conjunctions have little or no affinity
to that of the verbs. Mr. Tooke himself does not seem
perfectly satisfied with its truth. Both these conjunctions
are synonymous with “notwithstanding,” “nevertheless;”
terms, the obvious meaning of which does not accord with
verbs denoting “to get,” or “to suppose.” I am inclined,
however, to think that Tooke’s conjecture is founded in truth.
If I say, “he was learned, yet modest,” it may be expressed,
“he was learned, notwithstanding this, or this being granted,
even thus, or be it so (licet ita esset) he was modest;” where
the general incompatibility between learning and modesty is
conceived, not expressed, the expression denoting merely the
combination of the qualities in the individual mentioned.
Notwithstanding indirectly marks the repugnance, by signifying
that the one quality did not prevent the co-existence of
the other; yet or still supposes the incompatibility to be sufficiently
known. This derivation is rendered the more probable,
as the word though (thof, grant) may be substituted to
express the same idea, as “though (grant) he was learned, he
was modest;” which is equivalent to “he was learned, yet
(this granted) he was modest.” Hence many repeat the
concessive term, and say, “though he was learned, yet he
was modest.”
Unless. Mr. Horne Tooke is of opinion that this exceptive
conjunction is properly onles, the imperative of the verb onlesan,
to dismiss; thus, “you cannot be saved unless you
believe;” i.e. “dismiss your believing, and you cannot be
saved,” or, “you cannot be saved, your believing being dismissed.”
Lest is contracted for lesed, the participle of the same verb,
onlesan or lesan, signifying “dismissed;” as, “Young men
should take care to avoid bad company, lest their morals be
corrupted, and their reputation ruined;” that is, “Young
men should take care to avoid bad company, lest (this being
dismissed, or omitted) their morals be corrupted,” &c.
That is evidently in all cases an adjective, or, as some consider
it, a demonstrative pronoun; as, “They say that the
king is arrived;” “They say that (thing) the king is arrived.”
Whether is an adjective, denoting “which of two;” thus,
“Whether he live or die;” that is, “Which of the two
things, he live or die.”
As is the same with es, a German article, meaning it, that,
or which.
So is sa or so, a Gothic article of the same import.
Than, which Mr. Tooke does not seem to have noticed, is
supposed to be a compound of the definitive tha, and the
additive termination, en, thus, tha en, thænne, then, and now
spelled than[117].
These few examples will serve to explain Mr. Tooke’s
theory on this subject; and I am persuaded, that the further
we investigate the etymology and real import of conjunctions,
the more probable will it appear that they are all nouns or
attributives, some belonging to kindred languages, and others
compounds or abbreviations in our own. I am persuaded,
also, that from a general review of this subject, it must be
evident that adverbs, prepositions, and conjunctions, form no
distinct species of words, and that they are all reducible to
the class either of nouns or attributives, if their original character
and real import be considered. But, as many of them
are derived from obsolete words in our own language, or from
words in kindred languages, the radical meanings of which
are, therefore, either obscure, or generally unknown—and as
the syntactical use of several of them has undergone a
change—it can be no impropriety, nay, it is even convenient,
to regard them not in their original character, but their
present use. When the radical word still remains, the case
is different. Thus except is by some considered as a preposition;
but as the verb to except is still in use, except
may, and indeed should, be considered as the imperative of
the verb[118]. But in parsing, to say that the word unless is
the imperative of the verb onlesan, “to dismiss,” that verb
belonging to a different language, would serve only to perplex
and to confound, were it even true that the etymology is
correct. For this reason, though I perfectly concur with
Mr. Tooke as to the proper and original character of these
words, I have distributed them under the customary head of
prepositions, adverbs, and conjunctions.
An interjection has been defined to be, “that part of speech
which denotes some affection or emotion of the mind.” It
is clearly not a necessary part of speech; for, as Tooke observes,
interjections are not to be found in books of history,
philosophy, or religion: they occur in novels only, or
dramatic compositions. Some of these are entirely instinctive
and mechanical, as, ha! ha! ha! sounds common
to all men, when agitated with laughter. These physical
emissions of sound have no more claim to be called parts of
speech than the neighing of a horse, or the lowing of a cow.
There are others which seem arbitrary, and are expressive of
some emotion, not simply by the articulation, but by the accompanying
voice or gesture. Grief, for example, is expressed
in English by the word ah! or oh! in Latin by oi,
ei! and in Greek by οἶ, οἶ, αἶ, αἶ! Here the sounds are not
instinctive, or purely mechanical, as in laughing; but the
accompanying tone of voice, which is the same in all men,
under the influence of the same emotion, indicates clearly
the feeling or passion of the speaker. Others, which have
been deemed interjections, are, in truth, verbs or nouns, employed
in the rapidity of thought and expression, and under
the influence of strong emotion, to denote, what would otherwise
require more words to express: as, strange! for it is
strange; adieu! for I recommend you to God; shame! for
it is shame; welcome! for you are welcome.
The words which have been considered by our English
grammarians as interjections, are the following, expressive of
1. Joy, as, Hey, Io.
2. Grief, Ah, alas, alack.
3. Wonder, Vah! hah! aha!
4. Aversion, Tush, pish, pshaw, foh, fie, pugh.
5. Laughter, Ha, ha, ha.
6. Desire of attention, Hark, lo, halloo, hem, hip.
7. Languor, Heigh ho.
8. Desire of silence, Hush, hist, mum.
9. Deliberation, Hum.
10. Exultation, Huzza.
11. Pain, Oh! ho!
12. Taking leave, Adieu.
13. Greeting, Welcome.
Syntax is the arrangement of words in sentences or phrases,
agreeably to established usage, or to the received rules of
concord and government.
Sentences are either simple or complex.
A simple sentence consists of only one member, containing
therefore but one subject, and one finite verb, as,
“Alexander the Great is said to have wept.”
A complex sentence consists of two or more members, as,
“Alexander, when he had conquered the world, is said to
have wept, because there were not other worlds to subdue.”
Complex sentences are divided into members; and these,
if complex, are subdivided into clauses, as, “The ox knoweth
his owner | and the ass his master’s crib || but Israel doth
not know | my people doth not consider.” This complex
sentence has two members, each of which contains two
clauses.
When a member of a complex sentence is simple, it is
called indifferently a member, or a clause; as, “I have
called, but ye have refused.” The two parts, into which
this sentence divides itself, are termed each either a member
or a clause.
When a complex sentence is so framed, that the meaning
is suspended till the whole be finished, it is called a period;
otherwise the sentence is said to be loose. The following
sentence is an example of a period: “If Hannibal had not
wintered at Capua, by which circumstance his troops were
enervated, but had, on the contrary, after the battle of
Cannæ, proceeded to Rome, it is not improbable that the
great city would have fallen.”
The criterion of a period is, that you cannot stop before
you reach the end of the sentence, otherwise the sentence is
incomplete. The following is an example of a loose sentence.
“One party had given their whole attention during several
years, to the project of enriching themselves, and impoverishing
the rest of the nation; and, by these and other means, of
establishing their dominion, under the government, and with
the favour of a family, who were foreigners: and therefore
might believe, they were established on the throne, by the
good-will and strength of this party alone.” In this sentence
you may stop at the words themselves, nation, dominion,
government, or foreigners; and these pauses will severally
complete the construction, and conclude perfect sentences.
Thus, in a period, the dependence of the members is reciprocal;
in a loose sentence, the preceding are not necessarily
dependent on the subsequent members; whereas the
following entirely depend on those which are antecedent.
The former possesses more strength, and greater majesty;
hence it is adapted to the graver subjects of history, philosophy,
and religion. The latter is less artificial, and approaches
nearer to the style of conversation; hence it is
suited to the gayer and more familiar subjects of tales, dialogues,
and epistolary correspondence.
Concord is the agreement of one word with another, in
case, gender, number, or person; thus, “I love.” Here I
is the pronoun singular of the first person, and the verb is
likewise in the first person, and singular number; they agree
therefore in number and person.
Government is the power which one word hath over another
in determining its state; thus, “he wounded us.” In this
sentence, wounded is an active transitive verb, and governs
the pronoun in the objective case.
Rule I.—A verb agrees with its nominative in
number and person, as,
We teach
He learns
where we and teach are each plural, and of the first
person; he and learns are each singular, and of the
third person.
Note 1.—This rule is violated in such examples as these,
“I likes,” “thou loves,” “he need,” “you was.” In reference
to the last example, the reader should observe, that
you is plural, whether it relate to only one individual or to
more, and ought therefore to be joined with a plural verb.
It is no argument to say, that when we address a single person,
we should use a verb singular; for were this plea admissible,
we ought to say, “you wast,” for wast is the second
person singular, and not “you was,” for was is the first or
third. Besides, no one says, “you is,” or “you art,” but
“you are.”
Note 2.—The nominative to a verb is known by putting
the question, Who? or What? to the verb, as, I read; Who
reads? Ans. I.
Note 3.—The infinitive often supplies the place of a nominative
to a verb, thus, “To excel in every laudable pursuit
should be the aim of every one.” What should be the aim?
Ans. “To excel.”
Note 4.—As, considered now as a conjunction, but being,
in its primitive signification, equivalent to it, that, or which,
likewise supplies the place of a nominative, thus, “As far
as regards his interest, he will be sufficiently careful not
to offend.” Some grammarians suppose it to be understood
Note 5.—A verb is frequently construed with a whole
clause as its nominative, thus, “His being at enmity with
Cæsar was the cause of perpetual discord;” where, his being
at enmity, the subject of the affirmation, forms the nominative
to the verb.
Note 6.—The nominative, when the verb expresses command
or entreaty, is often suppressed, as, “speak,” for
“speak thou,” “honour the king,” for “honour ye the
king.” It is also frequently suppressed in poetry, as
“Lives there, who loves his pain?” Milton:—i.e. “Lives
there a man?” “To whom the monarch;” replied being
understood.
Note 7.—A noun singular, used for a plural, is joined to a
plural verb, as, “Ten sail of the line were descried at a distance.”
It has been already observed, that the plural termination
is sometimes suppressed, as, “ten thousand,” “three
brace,” “four pair.”
Note 8.—Priestley has said, that when the particle there is
prefixed to a verb singular, a plural noun may follow, “without
a very sensible impropriety.” But, if there be an impropriety
at all, why should the phraseology be adopted? His
example is this, “There necessarily follows from thence
these plain and unquestionable consequences.” Nothing,
we apprehend, can justify this violation of analogy. It
should be, “follow.” Would Dr. Priestley have said “There
is men who never reason?”
Note 9.—The nominative generally precedes the verb, and
is, in some examples, known by nothing but its place. This
arrangement, however, is sometimes altered, and the verb
placed before the nominative.
1st. Where the sentence is interrogative, as, “Does wealth
make men happy?” Here the nominative wealth follows the
auxiliary: “wealth does” would denote affirmation. “Stands
Scotland where it did?” Here also the nominative follows the
verb, to denote interrogation[119].
2ndly. In expressing commands or request, as “go thou,”
“read ye.”
3rdly. When a supposition is elliptically expressed, the
conditional particle if being understood, as, “Were I Alexander,”
said Parmenio, “I would accept the offer,” where
“were I,” is equivalent to “if I were.”
4thly. After the introductory word there, as “There was
a man sent by God, whose name was John.” “There are
many who have the wisdom to prefer virtue to every other
acquirement.” This arrangement is preferable to “a man
was sent,” “many are,” &c.; and, as a general rule, I
observe, that this collocation is not only proper but requisite,
when a sentiment of importance is to be introduced to the
hearer’s particular attention.
5thly. When the speaker is under the influence of vehement
emotion, or when vivacity and force are to be imparted
to the expression, the nominative energetically follows the
verb, as, “Great is Diana of the Ephesians.” Alter the arrangement,
saying, “Diana of the Ephesians is great,” and
you efface the signature of impetuosity, and render the expression
frigid and unaffecting. “Blessed is he, that cometh
in the name of the Lord.” “He is blessed” would convert,
as Campbell judiciously observes, a fervid exclamation into
a cold aphorism. “Fallen, fallen is Babylon, that great
city.” The energy of the last expression arises partly, I acknowledge,
from the epijeuxis or reduplication[120].
6thly. The auxiliary verb is placed before the nominative,
when the sentence or member begins with nor or neither, as,
“Nor did we doubt that rectitude of conduct would eventually
prove itself the best policy.” Thus also is placed the
principal verb, as, “Nor left he in the city a soul alive.”
Besides the cases now enumerated, in which the verb
should precede the nominative, there are several others not
easily reducible to any precise rule. In general, however, it
may be remarked, that the place of the nominative depends,
in some degree, on its connexion with other parts of the
sentence. “Hence appears the impossibility, that this undertaking
should be carried on in a monarchy.” Impossibility
being here in sense closely connected with the following
words, this arrangement is preferable to that in the original.
Hume says, “Hence the impossibility appears, that
this undertaking should be carried on in a monarchy.”
Priestley has said, that nouns, whose form is plural, but
signification singular, require a singular verb, as, “Mathematics
is a useful study.” This observation, however, is not
justified by general usage, reputable writers being in this
case much divided. (See p. 19.)
Rule II.—Two or more substantives singular, denoting
different things, being equivalent to a plural,
take a plural verb; or, when two or more substantives
singular are collectively subjects of discourse, they
require a plural verb, and plural representatives, as,
“Cato and Cicero were learned men; and they loved
their country.”
Note 1.—This rule is violated in such examples as this,
“I do not think, that leisure of life and tranquillity of mind,
which fortune and your own wisdom has given you, could be
better employed.”—Swift.
Note 2.—It was customary with the writers of antiquity,
when the substantives were nearly synonymous, to employ a
verb singular, as, mens, ratio, et consilium in senibus est, “understanding,
reason, and prudence is in old men.” In imitation
of these, some English authors have, in similar instances,
employed a verb singular. I concur, however, with L. Murray
in disapproving this phraseology. For either the terms
are synonymous, or they are not. If their equivalence be
admitted, all but one are redundant, and there is only one
subject of discourse; only one term should therefore be retained,
and a verb singular be joined with it. If they be not
equivalent, there are as many distinct ideas as there are
terms, and a plurality of subjects requires a plural verb.
This observation, however, requires some limitation. It
occasionally happens that one subject is represented by two
names, neither of which singly would express it with sufficient
strength. In such cases, the two nouns may take a
verb singular; and if the noun singular should be in juxta-position
with the verb, the singular number should be used;
as “Why is dust and ashes proud?”—Ecclesiasticus,
chap. x.
Note 3.—In such expressions as the following, it has been
doubted, whether the verb should be in the singular or in
the plural number: “Every officer and soldier claim a superiority
in regard to other individuals.”—De Lolme on the
British Constitution. Here, I conceive, the phraseology is
correct. Such an expression as “every officer and soldier
claims” might signify one individual under two different designations.
Whether we should say, “Every officer, and
every soldier, claim,” is a point more particularly questioned.
We often hear correct speakers say, in common conversation,
“Every clergyman, and every physician, is by education
a gentleman;” and there seems to be more ease, as well
as more precision, in this, than in the other mode of expression.
It is unquestionably, however, more agreeable to
analogy to say, “are gentlemen.”
Note 4.—It is not necessary, that the subjects of discourse
be connected, or associated by conjunctions: it is sufficient,
if the terms form a plurality of subjects to a common predicate,
whether with or without any connexive word, as
“Honour, justice, religion itself, were derided and blasphemed
by these profligate wretches.”[121] In this example the
copulative is omitted. “The king, with the lords and commons,
constitute an excellent form of government.” Here the
connexive word is not a conjunction, but a preposition; and
though the lords and commons be properly in the objective
case, and the king therefore the only nominative to the verb,
yet as the three subjects collectively constitute the government,
the verb without impropriety is put in the plural number.
This phraseology, though not strictly consonant with
the rules of concord, frequently obtains both in ancient and
modern languages; in some cases, indeed, it seems preferable
to the syntactical form of expression.
Note 5.—It is to be observed, that, when a pronominal adjective,
compounded with self, is joined to a verb, the simple
pronoun, which is the real nominative, is sometimes understood.
“If there be in me iniquity, slay me thyself:”
(Bible:) i.e. “Do thou thyself slay me.”
“To know but this, that thou art good,
And that myself am blind:”—Pope.
that is, “that I myself am blind.”
Note 6.—Where comparison is expressed or implied, and
not combination, the verb should be singular; thus, “Cæsar,
as well as Cicero, was remarkable for eloquence.”
“As she laughed out, until her back,
As well as sides, was like to crack.”—Hudibras.
Note 7.—When the nominatives are of different persons,
the first person is preferred to the second, and the second to
the third. In other words, I and you, I and he, are sylleptically
the same as we; you and he the same as ye. This
observation, however, is scarcely necessary, as the verb
plural admits no personal inflexion: it can be useful only in
determining what pronoun should be the representative of
the terms collectively, as, “he and I shared it between us.”
Note 8.—In the learned languages the pronoun of the first
person is deemed more worthy than that of the second, and
the second than that of the third; and hence arises the syllepsis
of persons which obtains in Greek and Latin. But,
though we admit the figure in English, we do not precisely
adopt the arrangement of the Latins; for though, like them,
we place the pronoun of the second person before that of the
third, we modestly place the pronoun of the first person after
those of the second and third. Thus, where a Roman would
say, Si tu et Tullia valetis, ego et Cicero valemus, we should
say, “If you and Tullia are well, Cicero and I are well.”
Rule III.—When, of two or more substantives singular,
one exclusively is the subject of discourse, a verb
singular is required, as, “John, James, or Andrew, intends
to accompany you;” that is, one of the three,
but not more than one.
Note.—When the predicate is to be applied to the different
subjects, though they be disjoined by the conjunction, they
may be followed by a plural verb. “Neither you, nor I, are
in fault.” This is the usual form of expression. If we consider
neither in its proper character, as a pronoun, we should
say, “neither you nor I, is in fault:” neither being the nominative
to the verb. The former, however, is the common
phraseology, and is analogous to the Latin idiom. “Quando
nec gnatus, nec hic, mihi quicquam obtemperant.”—Ter. Hec.
“Id neque ego, neque tu, fecimus.”—Id. “Num Lælius,
aut qui duxit ab oppressa meritum Carthagine nomen, ingenio
offensi?”—Hor.
Rule IV.—Nouns of number, or collective nouns,
may have a singular or plural verb, thus,
“My people do not consider,”
“My people does not consider.”
This licence, however, as Priestley observes, is not entirely
arbitrary. If the term immediately suggest the idea of number,
the verb is preferably made plural; but, if it suggest the
idea of a whole or unity, it should be singular. Thus it seems
harsh and unnatural to say, “In France the peasantry goes
barefoot, and the middle sort makes use of wooden shoes.”
It would be better to say, “the peasantry go”—“the middle
sort make;” because the idea is that of number. On the
contrary, there is something incongruous and unnatural in
these expressions: “The court of Rome were not without
solicitude—The house of commons were of small weight—Stephen’s
party were entirely broken up.”—Hume.
Rule V.—The adjectives this and that agree with
their substantives in number, as,
| This man |
These men |
| That woman |
Those women. |
All other adjectives are inflexible, as,
Note 1.—This rule is violated in such expressions as these,
which too frequently occur, “These kind of people.” “Those
sort of goods.”
Note 2.—The substantive, with which the adjective is
connected, is ascertained by putting the question, who, or
what? to the adjective, as, “a ripe apple.” What is ripe?
Ans. “The apple.”
Note 3.—The inflexibility of the English adjective sometimes
occasions ambiguity, rendering it doubtful to which of
two or more substantives the adjective refers. The defect is
sometimes supplied by the note termed hyphen. If, for example,
we hear a person designated “an old bookseller,” we
may be at a loss to know, whether the person intended be an
old man who sells books, that is, “an old book-seller,” or
one who sells old books, that is, “an old-book seller.” When
we read the notice, “Lime, slate, and coal wharf,” we are indebted
to the exercise of common sense, and not to the perspicuity
of the diction, for understanding what is meant by
attaching the term wharf to all the preceding nouns, while in
strict grammatical construction the notice might bear a different
signification.
Note 4.—Every adjective has a substantive, either expressed
or understood, as “the just shall live by faith,” i.e.
“the just man;” “few were present,” i.e. “few persons.”
Note 5.—The adjective is generally placed immediately before
the substantive, as, “a learned man,” “a chaste woman.”
Exc. 1.—When the adjective is closely connected with
some other word, by which its meaning is modified or explained,
as, “a man loyal to his prince,” where the attributive
loyal is closely connected with the following words.
Exc. 2.—When the verb to be expresses simple affirmation,
as, “thou art good;” or when any other verb serves as
a mere copula to unite the predicate with its subject, as, “he
seems courageous,” “it looks strange.”
Exc. 3.—For the sake of harmony, as, “Hail! bard divine.”
Exc. 4.—When there are more adjectives than one connected
with the substantive, as, “a man wise, valiant, and
good.”
Exc. 5.—Adjectives denoting extent, whether of space or
of time, are put after the clause expressing the measure, as,
“a wall ten feet high,” “a child three years old,” “a speech
an hour long.”
Note 6.—It has been doubted whether the cardinal should
precede or follow the ordinal numeral. Atterbury says, in
one of his letters to Pope, “Not but that the four first lines
are good.” We conceive the expression to be quite correct,
though the other form, namely, “the first four,” be often employed
to denote the same conception. There is no contrast
intended between these four and any other four, otherwise he
should have said, “The first four.” If we say, “the first
seven years,” it implies a division into sevens, as takes place,
for example, in the terms of a lease; “the seven first years”
implies no such division. The Latins, as far as I have observed,
had only one mode of arrangement. “Itaque quinque
primis diebus.”—Cæs. B. C. i. 5. “Tribus primis diebus.”—Ib.
i. 18. That the adoption of one and the same
collocation, in all cases, would sometimes mislead the reader,
is evident. If we take, for example, seven objects, A, B, C,
D, E, F, G, and say “the first, and the three last,” we clearly
refer to A, and E, F, G; but if we say “the first and the last
three,” we may indicate A, B, C, the first three, and E, F, G,
the last three.
Note 7.—Each is employed to denote two things taken
separately, and is therefore used as singular[122]. Either is also
singular, and implies only one of two; as, take either, that is
“the one or the other, but not both.” Both is a plural adjective,
and denotes the two collectively.
Note 8.—Every is an adjective singular, applied to more
than two subjects taken individually, and comprehends them
all. It is sometimes joined to a plural noun, when the things
are conceived as forming one aggregate, as, every twelve
years, i.e. “every period of twelve years.”
Note 9.—All is an adjective either singular or plural, denoting
the whole, whether quantity or number, as, “All men
are mortal.” “Six days shalt thou labour and do all thy
work.”
Note 10.—Much is an adjective of quantity, and of the
singular number, as, “much fruit.” Many an adjective of
number, and therefore plural, as, “many men.” This word,
however, is sometimes construed with a noun singular, as,
“Many a poor man’s son would have lain still.”—Shakspeare.
Note 11.—More, as the comparative of much, is singular,
denoting a greater quantity; as the comparative of many, it
is plural, and signifies a greater number, as more fruit, or,
“a greater quantity;” more men, “or a greater number.”
Note 12.—Enough is an adjective singular, and denotes
quantity, as, “bread enough:” enow denotes number, as
“books enow.”
Note 13.—The correlative word to the adjective such, is
as, and not who. There is an impropriety in saying, with
Mr. Addison, “Such, who are lovers of mankind,” instead of
“Such as,” or, “Those who.”
Note 14.—The superlative degree is followed by of, and
also the comparative, when selection is implied, as, “Hector
was the bravest of the Trojans.” “Africanus was the greater
of the (two) Scipios.” When opposition is signified, the comparative
is followed by than, as, “Wisdom is better than
wealth.”
Note 15.—There is an ambiguity in the adjective no,
against which it is necessary to guard, and which Priestley
seems to think that it is impossible to avoid in any language.
Thus, if we say, “No laws are better than the English,” it
may mean either, that the absence of all law is better than
the English laws, or that no code of jurisprudence is superior
to the English. If the latter be the meaning intended, the
ambiguity is removed by saying, “There are no laws better
than the English.” If the former is the sentiment to be
expressed, we might say, “The absence of all law is preferable
to the English system.”
Note 16.—Adjectives are sometimes improperly used for
adverbs, as indifferent well, extreme bad, for indifferently
well, extremely bad. An example of this error is also found
in the following sentence. “He was interrogated relative to
that circumstance.” Relative is an adjective, and must have
a substantive expressed or understood; the question is then,
what, or who was relative? The answer, according to the
rules of construction, should be he. This, however, is not the
meaning. The word ought to be relatively.
I am somewhat, however, inclined to think that our grammarians
have been hypercritical, if not chargeable with error,
in condemning such expressions as these, exceeding great,
exceeding strong. This phraseology, I apprehend, has been
reprobated, partly because not conformable to the Latin
idiom, and partly because such expressions as these, excessive
good, extreme dear, excellent well, are justly repudiated.
Neither of these, however, can be deemed a sufficient reason
for condemning this phraseology. For when it is said, “His
strength was exceeding great,” may not the expression be
considered as elliptical, the word exceeding being construed
as a participle, thus, “his strength was exceeding,” or “surpassing
great strength,” that is, “his strength exceeded great
strength.”[123] So Shakspeare says, “it was passing strange.”
Though exceedingly strong, exceedingly good, are now considered
to be the preferable phraseologies, there can be no
doubt, as Webster has observed, that adjectives are sometimes
used to modify the sense of other adjectives; thus we say, “red
hot,” “a closer grained wood,” “a sharper edged sword.”
In connection with the preceding note, we would here
observe, that adjectives are used to modify the meaning of
the verbs to which they refer; thus we say, “Open thy hand
wide.”—Bible. “Cry shrill with thy voice.”—Ib. “He
fought hard for his life.” The use of the kindred adverbs,
as will be afterwards shown, would in many instances materially
alter the meaning.
Rule VI.—The article a or an is joined to nouns
of the singular number only, or nouns denoting a
plurality of things in one aggregate, as,
| A man |
An army |
A thousand |
A few. |
Note 1.—To distinguish between the use of a and an, it
is usually given as a general rule that a be placed before
consonants and h aspirated, and an before vowels and h
not aspirated, as a table, a hat, an oak, an heir. In respect
to a before h aspirated, it must be observed, that usage is
divided. It would appear that, when the Bible was translated,
and the Liturgy composed, an was almost universally used
before h, whether the aspirate belonged to an emphatic or
an unemphatic syllable. A change has since taken place;
and some give it as a rule, to put a before h, when the
syllable is emphatic, and an when the syllable has not the
emphasis. This rule, however, is not universally observed;
some writing “a history,” others “an history;” some writing
“a hypothesis,” others “an hypothesis.” As far as easy
pronunciation is concerned, or the practice of Greek and
Roman writers may furnish a precedent, there seems to be
no solid objection to either of these modes. The former is
more common in Scotch and Irish writers than it is in
English authors, with whom the aspiration is less forcible,
and less common.
An is used before a vowel; but from this rule two deviations
are admitted. Before the simple sound of u, followed
by another vowel sound, whether signified or not, a and not
an is used. Thus we say, “such a one,” “such a woman.”
If the sound of “one” be analyzed, we shall find it resolvable
into oo-un or won, as some orthoepists have expressed it;
and woman into oo-umman. Again, before the diphthongal
sound of eu, in whatsoever manner that sound may be noted,
a may be, and frequently is, used. Thus we say, “a youth,”
“a yeoman,” “a eunuch,” “a unicorn.” Sheridan, indeed,
contends, that all words beginning with u, when it has the
diphthongal sound of eu, should be preceded by a and not
an. And here I must remark, that it is with no common
surprise, I find Webster, in his introduction to his Dictionary,
denying that the vowel u is anywhere equivalent to eu or e-oo.
Who those public speakers are, whom, he says, he heard in
England, and to whose authority he appeals, we are utterly
at a loss to conjecture. But this we confidently affirm, that
there is no orthoepist, no public orator, nay, not an individual
in any rank of society, who does not distinguish between the
sound of u in brute, rude, intrude, and in cube, fume, cure.
His reference to Johnson, who says that u is long in confusion,
and short in discussion, is irrelevant and nugatory.
Dr. Webster surely has not to learn, that the vowel may be
long, whether the sound be monophthongal, or diphthongal.
It is strange, too, that in the very example which he quotes
from Johnson, the u has the diphthongal sound, which he,
notwithstanding, denies as anywhere existing.
Note 2.—A is employed to express one individual of a
species without determining who or which; the denotes some
particular individual or individuals; thus, “a book” means
any book, “the book” some particular book; and when both
articles are omitted the whole class is signified, as, “Man is
born unto trouble,” i.e. “all men.” Hobbes errs against
this rule when he says, “God Almighty has given reason to
a man, to be a light to him.” The article should be suppressed.
Pope commits a similar error when he writes,
“Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel.”
It is not any wheel that he meant to express, but a known
instrument of torture, or “the wheel.”
The article a serves to distinguish between two subjects
compared with each other, and two subjects compared with
a third. “He is the author of two works of a different
character.” If the writer meant to say that he was the
author of two works of a different character from that of one
previously mentioned, the expression would be correct. But
he intended to signify a dissimilarity between the two productions.
He should, therefore, have omitted the article,
and said, “of different character,” or “of different characters.”
Note 3.—The indefinite article, though generally placed
before the adjective, as, “a good man,” is put after the adjective
such; and where these words of comparison occur,
as, so, too, how, its place is between the adjective and substantive,
thus, “Such a gift is too small a reward for so great
a service.” When the order is inverted, this rule is not
observed, as “a reward so small,” “a service so great.” The
definite article is likewise placed before the adjective, as
“the great king.” All is the only adjective which precedes
the article. “All the servants,” “all the money.”
Note 4.—Pronouns and proper names do not admit the
definite article, themselves sufficiently determining the subject
of discourse; thus we cannot say, the I, the Alexander.
If we employ the definite article with a proper name, an
ellipsis is involved; thus, if I say, he commands the Cæsar,
I mean, he commands the ship called “Cæsar.”
Note 5.—The definite article is used to distinguish the explicative
from the determinative sense. The omission of the
article, when the sense is restricted, creates ambiguity. For
this reason the following sentence is faulty: “All words,
which are signs of complex ideas, furnish matter of mistake.”—Bolingbroke.
Here the clause, “which are signs of complex
ideas,” is not explicative, but restrictive; for all words
are not signs of complex ideas. It should, therefore, be “all
the,” or “all those words, which are signs of complex ideas,
furnish matter of mistake.”
“In all cases of prescription, the universal practice of
judges is to direct juries by analogy to the Statute of Limitations,
to decide against incorporeal rights, which for many
years have been relinquished.”—Erskine on the Rights of Juries.
This sentence is chargeable at once with ambiguity
and error. In the first place, it is doubtful whether a regard
to this analogy governs the directions of the judge, or is to
rule the decision of the jury. 2ndly. By the omission of the
definite article, or the word those before the antecedent, he
has rendered the relative clause explicative, instead of being
restrictive; for, as all incorporeal rights are not abolished,
he should have said, “against those incorporeal rights.”
There are certain cases, indeed, in which the antecedent
clause admits the definite article, though the relative clause
be not restrictive, thus,
“Blest are the pure, whose hearts are clean
From the defiling power of sin.”
Here the relative clause is merely explanatory, yet the antecedent
admits the article. Thus also, in the following sentence,
“My goodness extendeth not to thee, but to the saints,
and the excellent ones, in whom is all my delight.” The
relative clause is not intended to limit the meaning of the
antecedent terms, and yet they admit the definite article. In
all examples, therefore, like these, where the explanatory
meaning admits the article, it is necessary, for the sake of
perspicuity, to mark the determinative sense by the emphatic
words that or those. Thus, had the clause been determinative
in the latter of these examples, it would have been necessary
to say, “those saints, and those excellent ones, in whom
is my delight.”
Note 6.—The definite article is likewise used to distinguish
between things which are individually different, but have
one generic name, and things which are, in truth, one and
the same, but are characterized by several qualities. For example,
if I should say, “the red and blue vestments were
most admired,” it may be doubtful whether I mean that the
union of red and blue in the same vestments was most admired,
or that the red and the blue vestments were both more
admired than the rest. In strictness of speech, the former is
the only proper meaning of the words, though the latter sentiment
be often thus expressed. If the latter be intended,
we should say, “the red vestments and the blue,” or “the
red and the blue vestments,” where the article is repeated.
If I say, “the red and blue vestments,” it is obvious that
only one subject is expressed, namely, “vestments,” characterized
by two qualities, “redness,” and “blueness,” as combined
in the subject. Here the subject is one; its qualities
are plural. If I say, “the red vestments and the blue,” or
“the red and the blue vestments,” the subjects are plural,
expressed, however, by one generic name, vestments.
In the same manner, if we say, “the ecclesiastical and secular
powers concurred in this measure,” the expression is
ambiguous, as far as language can render it such. The
reader’s knowledge, as Dr. Campbell observes, may prevent
his mistaking it; but, if such modes of expression be admitted,
where the sense is clear, they may inadvertently be
imitated in cases, where the meaning would be obscure, if not
entirely misunderstood. The error might have been avoided,
either by repeating the substantive, or by subjoining the substantive
to the first adjective, and prefixing the articles to
both adjectives; or by placing the substantives after both adjectives,
the article being prefixed in the same manner; thus,
“the ecclesiastical powers, and the secular powers,” or better,
“the ecclesiastical powers, and the secular,” or “the ecclesiastical,
and the secular powers.” The repetition of the
article shows, that the second adjective is not an additional
epithet to the same subject, but belongs to a subject totally
different, though expressed by the same generic name.
“The lords spiritual and temporal,” is a phraseology objectionable
on the same principle, though now so long sanctioned
by usage, that we dare hardly question its propriety.
The subjects are different, though they have but one generic
name. It should therefore be, “the spiritual and the temporal
lords.”
On the contrary, when two or more adjectives belong as
epithets to one and the same thing, the other arrangement
is to be preferred. Thus, “the high and mighty states.”
Here both epithets belong to one subject. “The states high
and mighty,” would convey the same idea.
Where the article is not used, the place of the substantive
ought to show, whether both adjectives belong to the same
thing, or to different things having the same generic name.
“Like an householder, who bringeth out of his treasure
things new and old.” This arrangement is faulty; both epithets
cannot belong to the same subject. It should be, “new
things and old.”
If both adjectives belong to one and the same subject, the
substantive ought either to precede both adjectives, or to
follow both, the article being uniformly omitted before the
second adjective, whether prefixed to the substantive before
the first, or suppressed. If, on the contrary, they belong to
different subjects, with the same name, the substantive ought
to follow the first adjective, and may be either repeated after
the second, or understood; or it should follow both adjectives,
the article being prefixed to each of them.
Note 7.—The omission, or the insertion of the indefinite
article, in some instances, nearly reverses the meaning; thus,
“Ah, little think the gay, licentious proud.”—Thomson.
Here little is equivalent to “not much,” or rather by a common
trope it denotes not at all. Locke says, “I leave him to
reconcile these contradictions, which may be plentifully found
in him by any one, who reads with but a little attention.”
Here, on the contrary, where the indefinite article is inserted,
“a little” means “not none,” or “some.”
In like manner, when it is said, “Strait is the gate, and
narrow is the way, and few there be that find it;” few is opposed
to many. Thus also, “Many are called, but few are
chosen.” But when it is said, “Tarry a few days, till thy
brother’s fury turn;” a few is here equivalent to some, not as
opposed to many, but as opposed to not none. If we say, “few
accompanied the prince,” we seem to diminish the number,
and represent it as inconsiderable, as if we said, “not many,”
or “fewer than expectation:” if we say, a few, we seem to
amplify;—we represent the number as not unworthy of attention,
or as equal, at least, if not superior to expectation.
In short, if the article be inserted, the clause is equivalent to
a double negative, and thus it serves to amplify; if the article
be suppressed, the expression has either a diminutive or
a negative import.
Note 8.—The indefinite article has, sometimes, the meaning
of every or each; thus, “they cost five shillings a dozen,”
that is, “every dozen.”
“What makes all doctrines plain and clear?
About two hundred pounds a year.”—Hudibras.
That is, “every year.”
Note 9.—There is a particular use of this article, which
merits attention, as ambiguity may thus, in many cases, be
avoided. In denoting comparison, when the article is suppressed
before the second term, the latter, though it may be
an appellative, assumes the character of an attributive, and
becomes the predicate of the subject, or first term. If, on the
contrary, the second term be prefaced with the article, it continues
an appellative, and forms the other subject of comparison.
In the former case, the subject, as possessing different
qualities in various degrees, is compared with itself; in the
latter, it is compared with something else.
Thus, if we say, “he is a better soldier than scholar,” the
article is suppressed before the second term, and the expression
is equivalent to, “he is more warlike than learned,” or
“he possesses the qualities, which form the soldier, in a
greater degree than those, which constitute the scholar.” If,
we say, “he would make a better soldier, than a scholar,”
here the article is prefixed to the second term; this term,
therefore, retains the character of an appellative, and forms
the second subject of comparison. The meaning accordingly
is, “he would make a better soldier, than a scholar would
make;” that is, “he has more of the constituent qualities of
a soldier, than are to be found in any literary man.”
Pope commits a similar error, when, in one of his letters to
Atterbury, he says, “You thought me not a worse man than
a poet.” This strictly means “a worse man than a poet is;”
whereas he intended to say, that his moral qualities were not
inferior to his poetical genius. He should have said, “a
worse man than poet.”
These two phraseologies are frequently confounded, which
seldom fails to create ambiguity. Baker erroneously considers
them as equivalent, and prefers that, in which the article
is omitted before the second substantive. When there
are two subjects with one predicate, the article should be inserted;
but when there is one subject with two predicates, it
should be omitted.
Note 10.—Perspicuity in like manner requires, that, when
an additional epithet or description of the same subject is intended,
the definite article should not be employed. It is by
an attention to this rule, that we clearly distinguish between
subject and predicate. For this reason the following sentence
appears to me faulty: “The apostle James, the son of Zebedee,
and the brother of St. John, would be declared the apostle
of the Britons.”—Henry’s History of Britain. It should
be rather, “and brother of St. John.” When a diversity of
persons, or a change of subject is intended to be expressed,
the definite article is necessarily employed, as “Cincinnatus
the dictator, and the master of horse, marched against the
Æqui.” The definite article before the latter appellative
marks the diversity of subject, and clearly shows that two
persons are designed. Were the article omitted, the expression
would imply, that the dictator, and the master of horse,
were one and the same individual.
Rule VII.—Substantives signifying the same thing
agree in case, thus, “I, George the Third, king of
Great Britain, defender of the faith.” The words I,
George, king, defender, are all considered as the nominative
case. “The chief of the princes, he who defied
the bravest of the enemy, was assassinated by a dastardly
villain:” where the pronoun he agrees in case
with the preceding term chief. This rule, however,
may be deemed unnecessary, as all such expressions are
elliptical; thus, “the chief of the princes was assassinated,”
“he was assassinated.” “He was the son of
the Rev. Dr. West, perhaps him who published Pindar
at Oxford.”—Johnson’s Life of West. That is, “the
son of him.” Were the pronoun in the nominative case,
it would refer to the son, and not the father, and thus
convey a very different meaning.
Note 1.—As proper names are, by the trope antonomasia,
frequently used for appellatives, as when we say, “the Socrates
of the present age,” where Socrates is equivalent to
“the wisest man,” so also appellatives have frequently the
meaning and force of attributives. Thus, if we say, “he is
a soldier,” it means either that he is by profession a soldier,
or that he possesses all the qualities of a military man, whether
professionally a soldier or not. According to the former
acceptation of the term, it is a mere appellative; agreeably to
the latter, it has the force of an attributive.
Note 2.—Two or more substantives in concordance, and
forming one complex name, or a name and title, have the
plural termination annexed to the last only, as, “the two
Miss Louisa Howards, the two Miss Thomsons.” Analogy, Dr.
Priestley observes, would plead in favour of another construction,
and lead us to say, the two Misses Thomson, the two
Misses Louisa Howard; for if the ellipsis were supplied, we
should say, “the two young ladies of the name of Thomson,”
and this construction he adds, he has somewhere met with.
The latter form of expression, it is true, occasionally occurs;
but, general usage, and, I am rather inclined to think,
analogy likewise, decide in favour of the former; for, with a
few exceptions, and these not parallel to the examples now
given[124], we almost uniformly, in complex names, confine the
inflexion to the last substantive. Some proofs of this we
shall afterwards have an opportunity of offering. I would
also observe, in passing, that ellipsis and analogy are different
principles, and should be carefully distinguished.
Rule VIII.—One substantive governs another,
signifying a different thing, in the genitive, as,
| The tyrant’s rage. |
The apostle’s feet. |
Note 1.—This rule takes place when property, possession,
or the general relation, by which one thing appertains to another,
is implied.
Note 2.—It may be considered as violated in such examples
as these, “Longinus his Treatise on the Sublime.”—Addison.
“Christ his sake.”—Common Prayer.
Note 3.—Substantives govern not only nouns, but likewise
pronouns, as, “its strength,” “his reward.”
Note 4.—This case is generally resolvable into the objective
with the preposition of, as, “the king’s sceptre,” or “the
sceptre of the king;” “his head,” or “the head of him.” I
have said generally, for it is not always thus resolvable. For
example, the Christian sabbath is sometimes named, “the
Lord’s day;” but “the day of the Lord” conveys a different
idea, and denotes “the day of judgment.”
Note 5.—The latter or governing substantive is frequently
understood, as, “the king will come to St. James’s to-morrow,”
that is, “St. James’s palace.” “I found him at the
stationer’s,” that is, “the stationer’s shop,” or “the stationer’s
house.”
Note 6.—When a single subject is expressed as the common
property of two or more persons, the last only takes
the sign of the genitive, as, “this is John, William, and
Richard’s house;” that is, “this is the house of John, William,
and Richard.” But when several subjects are implied,
as severally belonging to various individuals, the names of
the individuals are all expressed in the genitive case, as
“these are John’s, William’s, and Richard’s houses.” In such
examples as these, the use of the genitive involves an ambiguity,
which it is sometimes difficult to prevent. Thus, if we
say, agreeably to the first observation in this note, “Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob’s posterity were carried captive to
Babylon,” one unacquainted with the history of these patriarchs,
might be at a loss to determine whether “the patriarch
Abraham,” “the patriarch Isaac,” and “the posterity
of Jacob,” were carried captive; in other words, whether
there be three subjects of discourse, namely, Abraham, Isaac,
and the posterity of Jacob, or only one subject, the posterity
of the patriarchs. Nor will the insertion of the preposition
in all cases prevent the ambiguity. For, in the example before
us, were the word “descendants” substituted for “posterity,”
and the phrase to proceed thus, “the descendants
of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob,” an ignorant reader
might be led to suppose that not one generation of descendants,
but three distinct generations of these three individuals
were carried into captivity. If we say, “the posterity of
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,” the expression appears to me
liable to the same misconstruction with the one first mentioned.
If we say, “the common posterity of Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob, were carried captive to Babylon,” all ambiguity
of expression is prevented.
Instead also of saying, “John, William, and Richard’s
house,” I should prefer “a house belonging in common to
John, William, and Richard.” This expression, though
laborious and heavy, is preferable to the inelegance and
harshness of three inflected substantives, while it removes
the ambiguity, which might in some cases be occasioned by
withholding the inflexion from the two first substantives.
Where neatness and perspicuity cannot possibly be combined,
it will not be questioned which we ought to prefer.
I observe, also, that though such phraseologies as this,
“John’s, William’s, and Richard’s houses,” be perfectly consonant
with syntactical propriety, and strictly analogous to
the established phraseology, “his, Richard’s, and my houses,”
yet, as there appears something uncouth in the former expression,
it would be better to say, “the houses belonging in
common, or severally (as the meaning may be) to John,
William, and Richard.”
Note 7.—When a name is complex, that is, consisting of
more terms than one, the last only admits the sign of the
genitive, as, “Julius Cæsar’s Commentaries,” “John the
Baptist’s head,” “for Herodias’ sake, his brother Philip’s
wife.”
Note 8.—When a short explanatory term is subjoined to
a name, it matters little to which the inflexion be annexed,
as, “I left the parcel at Mr. Johnson, the bookseller’s,” or
“at Mr. Johnson’s, the bookseller.” But if the explanatory
term be complex, or if there are more explanatory terms than
one, the sign of the genitive must be affixed to the name, or
first substantive, thus, “I left the book at Johnson’s, a respectable
bookseller, a worthy man, and an old friend.” In
the same manner we should say, “this psalm is David’s, the
king, priest, and prophet of the people,” and not “this
psalm is David, the king, priest, and prophet of the people’s.”
Note 9.—In some cases we employ both the genitive and
a preposition, as “this is a friend of the king’s,” elliptically,
for “this is a friend of the king’s friends.” We say also, “this
is a friend of the king.” These forms of expression, however,
though in many cases equivalent, sometimes imply different
ideas. Thus, if I say, “this is a picture of my friend,”
it means, “this is an image, likeness, or representation of my
friend.” If I say, “This is a picture of my friend’s,” it
means, “this picture belongs to my friend.”
As the double genitive involves an ellipsis, and implies
part of a whole, or one of a plurality of subjects, I think
the use of it should be avoided, unless in cases where this
plurality may be implied. Thus we may say, “a kinsman
of the traitor’s waited on him yesterday,” it being implied
that the traitor had several or many kinsmen. The expression
is equivalent to “a kinsman of the traitor’s kinsmen.”
But, if the subject possessed were singular, or the only one
of the kind, I should recommend the use of the simple
genitive; thus, if he had only one house, I should say, “this
is the house of the traitor,” or “this is the traitor’s house;”
but not “this is a house of the traitor’s.”
Note 10.—The recurrence of the analytical expression,
and likewise of the simple genitive, should be carefully
avoided. Thus, there is something inelegant and offensive
in the following sentence, “the severity of the distress of the
son of the king touched the nation.” Much better, “the
severe distress of the king’s son touched the nation.”
Note 11.—There is sometimes an abrupt vulgarity, or uncouthness,
in the use of the simple genitive. Thus, in “the
army’s name,” “the commons’ vote,” “the lords’ house,” expressions
of Mr. Hume, there is a manifest want of dignity
and of elegance. Much better, “the name of the army,”
“the vote of the commons,” “the house of lords.”
Rule IX.—Pronouns agree with their antecedents,
or the nouns which they represent, in gender, number,
and person, as, “They respected Cato and his party,”
where Cato is singular and masculine, and his agrees
with it in gender and number. “He addressed you
and me, and desired us to follow him,” where us sylleptically
represents the two persons. “Thou, who
writest.” Here the antecedent thou being a person,
the relative who, not which, is employed. The antecedent
also being of the second person and singular
number, the relative is considered as of the same character,
and is therefore followed by the verb in the second
person and singular number. “Vice, which no
man practises with impunity, proved his destruction.”
Here the antecedent vice not being a person, the pronoun
which, of the neuter gender, is therefore employed.
“The rivers, which flow into the sea.” Here
also the antecedent not being a person, the relative is
which. It is also considered as in the plural number;
and, as all substantives are joined to the third person,
which, the representative of rivers, is joined to the
third person plural of the verb.
Note 1.—This rule is transgressed in the following examples:
“Beware of false prophets, which come to you in
sheep’s clothing.” “The fruit tree bearing fruit after his
kind.” “There was indeed in our destinies such a conformity,
as seldom is found in that of two persons in the
same age.” Here that, referring to destinies, is put for those.
“The crown had it in their power to give such rewards as
they thought proper.”—Parliamentary Debates.
Note 2.—The relative should be placed as near as possible
to the antecedent, otherwise ambiguity is sometimes occasioned.
Note 3.—In the earlier editions of Murray’s Grammar, we
find the following rule: “When the relative is preceded by
two nominatives of different persons, it may agree in person
with either, as, ‘I am the man who commands you,’ or ‘I
am the man who command you.’” The rule here given is
erroneous. The construction is by no means arbitrary. If
we say, “I am the man who commands you,” the relative
clause, with the antecedent man, form the predicate; and
the sentence is equivalent to “I am your commander.” If
we say, “I am the man who command you,” the man simply
is the predicate, and I who command you the subject; thus,
“I who command you,” or “I your commander am the man.”
This error, sufficiently obvious to every discerning reader, I
pointed out in the former edition of this Treatise. Murray’s
rule, as it stood, is clearly repugnant to perspicuity, and syntactical
correctness.
In the last edition of his Grammar, and, I believe, in every
edition posterior to the publication of the “Etymology and
Syntax,” the rule is altered; but whether from a disinclination
to expunge a rule, which he had once delivered—a disinclination
perhaps accompanied with a belief, that it might
be corrected with little prejudice to its original form, or from
what other motive he has left it in its present state, I will
not presume to determine; but in the alteration, which he
has introduced, he appears to me to have consulted neither
usefulness nor perspicuity. He says, “When the relative is
preceded by two nominatives of different persons, it may
agree in person with either.” So far he has transcribed the
former rule; but he adds, “according to the sense.” Now
it cannot be questioned, and the learner needs not to be informed,
that the relative may agree with either. If after
having taught the learner, that a Latin adjective must agree
with its substantive, we were to add, as a distinct rule, that
it may agree with either of the two substantives, according to
the sense, I apprehend, we should be chargeable with vain
repetition, or with extreme inattention to correctness and
precision. For what would our rule imply? Clearly nothing
more, than that the adjective is capable of agreeing with the
substantive to which it belongs; and of this capacity no
scholar, who had learned to decline an adjective, could possibly
be ignorant; or it might convey some idea, that the
concord is optional. Now, is it not certain, that the adjective
must agree with its proper substantive, namely, that whose
meaning it is intended to modify, and no other? The relative,
in like manner, must agree with that antecedent, and
that only, whose representative it is in the relative clause.
There is nothing arbitrary in either the one case, or the other.
Perhaps it may be answered that, though the former part
of the altered rule leaves the concord as it first stood, discretionary,
the latter confines the agreement of the relative to
its proper antecedent. But why this apparent contrariety?
Why is that represented as arbitrary, which is determined by
the sense? This, however, is not the only objection; for it
may be affirmed, without hesitation, that the rule, thus considered,
is completely superfluous. For the learner has been
already told, that the relative agrees with the antecedent in
gender, number, and person. And can the antecedent be any
other, than that which the sense indicates? And what does
this rule teach? Precisely the same thing. The rule, therefore,
is either calculated to mislead by representing as arbitrary
what is fixed and determinate, or it is purely a rule of
supererogation. As it stood originally, it gave some new information;
but that information was erroneous: as it stands
now, it is either indefinite, or it is useless.
The scholar may require an admonition, when there are
two antecedents of different persons, to be careful in referring
the relative to its proper antecedent; but to tell him that it
may agree with the one, or the other, according to the sense,
is to tell him nothing, or tell him that, which he already
knows. In the examples just now adduced, the termination
of the verb, by indicating the person of the relative, clearly
shows the antecedent; but, where the substantives are of the
same person, and the verb cannot therefore by its termination
indicate the antecedent, ambiguity should be precluded by
the mode of arrangement. Thus, “He is the hero who did
it,” and “He who did it is the hero.” In the former, he is
the subject, and the hero who did it the predicate; and in
the latter, he who did it is the subject, and the hero the predicate.
Note 4.—The relative, instead of referring to any particular
word as its antecedent, sometimes refers to a whole clause,
thus, “the bill was rejected by the lords, which excited no
small degree of jealousy and discontent,” that is, “which
thing,” namely, the rejection of the bill.
Note 5.—The antecedent pronoun of the third person is
often suppressed, when no particular emphasis is implied;
as, “Who steals my purse, steals trash,” i.e. “he,” or “the
man, who.” “Whom he would he slew; and whom he
would he kept alive,” Bible; i.e. “Those whom he would.”
“Whosoever committeth sin, is the servant of sin.” In this
example the antecedent he, and nominative to the principal
verb, is understood.
Priestley has remarked that the pronouns whoever and whosoever
have sometimes a double construction. He gives the
two following examples. “Elizabeth publicly threatened
that she would have the head of whoever had advised it.”—Hume.
“He offered a great recompense to whomsoever
would help him to a sight of him.”—Hume. Though the
learned author seems to admit both these modes of construction,
we apprehend that only one of them is grammatical.
It has been just now observed that the antecedent is often
understood to the relative who, and to the compounds whoever
and whosoever. If the antecedent be supplied, it will
be found that the construction is not arbitrary, as Priestley
supposes, but definite and fixed. The first sentence is correct.
“She would have the head of him, or them, whoever
had advised,” the relative being the nominative to the verb.
“He offered a great recompense to him, or them, whosoever
should help him.” Whomsoever is a solecism: though close
to the preposition to, it is not under its government. (See the
following rules.)
Rule X.—If no nominative intervene between the
relative and the verb, the relative shall be the nominative
to the verb, as, “Solomon, who was the son of
David, built the temple of Jerusalem.” Here who is
the nominative to the verb was.
Rule XI.—But, if a nominative intervene between
the relative and the verb, the relative shall be under the
government of the preposition going before, or the noun
or verb following, as, “God, whom we worship, is the
Lord, by whose gift we live, and by whom all things
were made.” In the first relative clause, where we is
the intervening nominative, the relative is in the objective
case, and governed by the verb following: in the
second clause, where the intervening nominative is
likewise we, the relative is in the genitive case, and governed
by the noun following, thus, “by whose gift,” or
“by the gift of whom;” and in the third clause, where
things is the intervening nominative, the relative is in
the objective case, and governed by the preposition.
Note 1.—The case of the relative may always be ascertained
by repeating the antecedent, and arranging the clause
in the natural order, thus, “the city, which is called Rome,
was founded by Romulus,” i.e. “the city, which city is
called Rome.” The antecedent repeated is the nominative to
the verb is, which therefore agrees with it in case. “God,
who sees all things, will punish the wicked,” i.e. “God,
which God sees all things;” the relative, therefore, is the nominative
to the verb sees, that is, it is in the same case in
which the antecedent would be put, if again expressed. “Solomon,
whom David loved, was the wisest of princes.” Here,
if we arrange the relative clause in the natural order, beginning
with the nominative and the verb, it will run thus,
“David loved whom,” an expression analogous to “David
loved him,” or “David loved which Solomon.” Many solecisms
in the construction of the relative would be easily
avoided, by a little attention to the natural arrangement.
Thus, instead of committing the error involved in the following
examples, “The philosopher, who he saw to be a man of
profound knowledge,” “’Twas my brother, who you met
with,” “I was a stranger to the person, who I spoke to,” we
should be led by the natural order to the correct phraseology;
“he saw whom,” “you met with whom,” “I spoke to whom.”
It is to be observed, however, that, though the personal pronouns,
when under the government of a verb, may either
precede or follow it, the relative in the same state of government
must invariably go before it.
Note 2.—The relatives who and which are often understood,
especially in colloquial language: “The friend I
visited yesterday is dead to-day,” i.e. “the friend whom I
visited yesterday is dead to-day.”
Note 3.—After a comparative, both relative and antecedent
are often understood. “The damage was far greater than
he knew.” Here there is a comparison of two objects, the
damage suffered, and the damage known; but only one is
expressed. The sentence, if the ellipsis were supplied, would
run thus, “The damage was far greater, than what,” or “that,
which he knew.”
Note 4.—There are a few cases, which are considered by
some distinguished critics and grammarians, as requiring
the use of that in preference to the pronouns who and
which.
1st. After superlatives the pronoun that is generally used,
as, “The wisest man, that ever lived, is liable to error.”
2ndly. After the word same, that is generally used, as, “he
is the same man, that you saw yesterday.” But, if a preposition
should precede the relative, one of the other two
pronouns must be employed, the pronoun that not admitting
a preposition prefixed to it, as, “he is the same man, with
whom you were acquainted.” It is remarkable, however,
that when
the arrangement is somewhat changed, the word
that admits the preposition, as, “he is the same man, that
you were acquainted with.”
3rdly. That is used after who, taken interrogatively, as,
“Who, that has the spirit of a man, would suffer himself to
be thus degraded?”
4thly. When persons and things are referred to, as, “the
men and things, that he hath studied, have not contributed
to the improvement of his morals.”
Rule XII.—An active transitive verb governs the
accusative or objective case, as,
“He teaches me.”
“We honour him.”
Note 1.—As examples of transgression against this rule,
we may adduce the following: “Who do I love so much?”—Shakspeare.
“Who should I meet the other day, but my
old friend?”—Spectator. “Those, who he thought true to
his party.”—Clarendon.
Note 2. As substantives have no objective case, the subject
or object of the energy or affection is distinguished by its
place, which is after the verb, as “Achilles slew Hector,”
where Achilles, the agent, precedes, and Hector, the subject
of the action, follows the verb. Reverse this order, and the
meaning is reversed, as “Hector slew Achilles.” Where
the proper arrangement is not observed, ambiguity or misconstruction
is frequently produced. Thus, when Pope says,
Odyss. xix.
“And thus the son the fervent sire address’d,”
it may be asked, did the son address the sire, or the sire address
the son? A little attention would have prevented the
ambiguity. If the sire addressed the son, the line should
run thus,
“And thus his son the fervent sire address’d.”
If the son addressed the sire,
“And thus the son his fervent sire address’d.”
Note 3.—An active intransitive verb sometimes governs
the objective case of a noun, of the same or a kindred signification,
as, “Let us run the race, which is set before us.”
“If any man see his brother sin a sin, which is not unto
death.”—Bible. The latter verb, however, though thus used,
must not be employed in a transitive sense. It is an error,
therefore, to say, “What have I sinned?”—Bible. It should
be, “How?” or “In what?” Some intransitive verbs also,
when used in a reflex sense, are joined to an objective case,
as, “Then having shown his wounds, he’d sit him down.”—Home’s
Douglas. This is a poetic licence, which, in a prose
writer, would not be tolerated, unless in colloquial and very
familiar language.
Note 4.—The objective case should not, if possible, be
separated from its verb. This rule is violated in the following
sentence: “Becket could not better discover, than by
attacking so powerful an interest, his resolution to maintain,”
&c.—Hume. The regimen is here unnecessarily, and very
inelegantly, separated from its verb.
Rule XIII.—Verbs signifying to ask, teach, offer,
promise, pay, tell, allow, deny, and some others of like
signification, are sometimes, especially in colloquial
language, followed in the passive voice by an objective
case.
Note 1.—This rule seems to have escaped the attention of
all our English grammarians, except Priestley, who observes,
“that in some familiar phrases, the subject and object of our
affirmation seem to be transposed.” This idiom, except in
a very few instances, is not to be found in Latin, though it
occurs pretty often in Greek: it therefore particularly merits
the attention of the junior Latin scholar, lest in his Anglo-Latin
translations it should betray him into an egregious
solecism. “He allowed me great liberty,” turned passively,
in concurrence with the Latin idiom, “great liberty was allowed
me.” But we say also in English, “I was allowed
great liberty.” “He promised (to) me a ship in five days,”
passively, “a ship was promised me,” and “I was promised
her in five days.” “She would not accept the jewels, though
they were offered to her by her mother,” or, “though she
was offered them by her mother.”
Note 2.—After verbs of giving, telling, sending, promising,
offering, and others of like signification, the thing is very
generally placed before the person. In the time of Swift
and Addison this rule was not uniformly observed. We find
authors of that period saying indiscriminately, “Give it us,”
and “Give us it;” “Tell him it,” and “Tell it him;” “He
promised me it,” and “He promised it me.” In Scotland
these two modes of expression still obtain. In England
they are now reduced under one general rule. We say,
“Give it me,” “Tell it him,” “He sent it us.”
Rule XIV.—The verb to be has the same case
after it as it has before it, thus denoting that the subjects
are identical, or that the one term is the predicate
of the other, as, “It is he,” “You believed it to be
him.” In the former example, it is the nominative to
the verb, the nominative case he therefore follows the
verb. In the latter, it is the regimen of the verb believed,
the verb to be is therefore followed by the objective
case.
Note 1.—This rule is violated in such examples as “it
is me,” “it was him,” “I believed it to be he,” “whom do
men say that I am?” In the last example, the natural arrangement
is, “men say that I am whom,” where, contrary
to the rule, the nominative I precedes, and the objective case
whom follows the verb.
Note 2.—Priestley has asked, “Who would not say, ‘If
it be me,’ rather than ‘If it be I?’” Our ears are certainly
more familiar with the former than with the latter phraseology,
and those who consult the ear only, may prefer it: but,
where no advantage is gained by a departure from analogy,
every deviation is at once idle and reprehensible.
Note 3.—The verb to be is called by logicians the copula,
as connecting the subject with the predicate. Thus, when
we say, “he is wise,” “they are learned,” he and they are the
subjects; wise and learned the predicates. Now, it particularly
deserves the attention of the classical scholar, that in
English almost any verb may be used as a copula. This circumstance
is the more worthy of his notice, as a conformity
to the Latin idiom may lead him to reject expressions, which
are unexceptionable, and to adopt others not strictly correct[125].
Thus we say, “it tastes good,” “he strikes hard,” “I remember
right,” “he feels sick;” “we came late,” “they rise
early,” “he drinks deep.” I am aware that the words late,
early, are in such examples considered as adverbs. It appears
to me they are adjectives,—that the idiom is truly English,
and that all these expressions are perfectly analogous.
Rule XV.—When two verbs come together, the
attribute signified by the one verb being the subject
or object of the action, energy, or affection expressed
by the other, the former is governed in the infinitive
mood, as, “he taught me to read,” “I knew him
to be.”
Note 1.—The infinitive thus frequently supplies the place of
an objective case after the verb, as it often stands for a nominative
before it, as, “he loves to study,” or “he loves study.”
Note 2.—In such examples as, “I read to learn,” where
the latter phrase, though in the same form as to study, in the
preceding example, has, notwithstanding, a different meaning,
and cannot be resolved like it into “I read learning,” in such
examples, as Tooke justly observes, the preposition for denoting
the object, and equivalent to pour in French, is understood,
as, “I read for to learn.” Our southern neighbours
indeed, in these examples, never omit the casual term; and
Trusler has not improperly observed, that, when the verb
does not express the certain and immediate effect, but something
remote and contingent, the words in order to, which are
nearly equivalent to for, may be pertinently introduced as, “in
order to acquire fame, men encounter the greatest dangers.”
Note 3.—The verbs to bid, dare, need, make, see, hear, feel,
let, are not followed by the sign of the infinitive, as, “He bade
me go,” “I saw him do it.” It is to be observed, however,
that in the language of Scripture the verb “to make” is often
followed by to, as, “He maketh his sun to rise.” The verb
“to dare,” for “to challenge,” or “to defy,” is also construed
with to, “I dare thee but to breathe upon my love.”—Shakspeare.
Note 4.—Nouns, adjectives, and participles, are often followed
by an infinitive, as, “your desire to improve will
ultimately contribute to your happiness.” “Good men are
desirous to do good.”
Note 5.—As the proper tense of the subsequent or secondary
verb has, in certain cases, been a subject of dispute,
it may be necessary to observe, that, when the simple
attribute, or merely the primary idea expressed by the subsequent
verb, is intended to be signified, it should then be put
in the present tense: but when the idea of perfection or completion
is combined with the primary idea, the subsequent
verb should have that form, which is termed the perfect of
the infinitive. Or, perhaps, this rule may, more intelligibly
to the scholar, though less correctly, be thus expressed, that
when the action or state, denoted by the subsequent verb, is
contemporary with that of the primary verb, then the secondary
verb must be put in the present tense; but when the
action or state is prior to that expressed by the secondary
verb, the latter must be put in the preterite tense. Usage,
indeed, and the opinions of grammarians, are divided on this
subject. But when nothing but usage can be pleaded in
favour of one phraseology, and when reason concurs with
usage to recommend another, it will not be questioned that
the latter deserves the preference. Thus, we should say, “I
expected to see you,” and not “I expected to have seen you;”
because either the expectation and the seeing must be regarded
as contemporary, or the former must be considered as
prior to the latter. But why, it may be asked, must the seeing
be considered as contemporary with the expectation?
Might not the former have been anterior to the latter? This
is certainly possible; I may see a friend before I expect him.
But though the sight, abstractedly considered, may precede
the expectation, it cannot possibly, as an object of expectation,
be prior to it. The idea involves absurdity, equal and
analogous to the assertion, that the paper, on which I write,
existed as an object of my perception, previously to my perceiving
it. Agreeably to the second form of the rule here
given, we find that the Latins very generally used the present
of the infinitive, to express an action or state contemporary
with the attribute of the primary verb. Thus, dixit me scribere,
“he said that I wrote,” or “was writing,” that is, at the time of
his saying so: dixit me scripsisse, “he said that I had written.”
I have observed, that, when the simple attribute denoted
by the subsequent verb is implied, we should use the present
of the infinitive. This phraseology should not only be used
in all cases, where contemporary actions or states are to be
signified, but may also be sometimes employed, where the secondary
verb denotes something posterior to what is implied
by the first. For though in no instance, where the simple
action or state is to be expressed, should we use the sign of
past or future time, yet for obvious reasons we may, and often
do, employ the present infinitive, or simple name, to denote
what is future, when the primary verb necessarily implies the
futurity of its object. Thus, instead of saying, “he promised
that he would pay,” where the constructive sign of futurity
is used to denote the posteriority of the payment, we often
say, “he promised to pay,” employing the present tense, synonymous
with the simple name, as, “he promised payment.”
The Latins also, though they almost universally, unless in
colloquial language, preferred the former mode of expression,
sometimes adopted the latter, as, denegavit se dare.—Plaut.
Jusjurandum pollicitus est dare.—Id. “He refused to give,”
“he promised to give,” or “he promised giving,” the secondary
verb expressing the act simply, and the time being
necessarily implied.
Note 6.—The infinitive mood is sometimes used in an absolute
or independent sense, as, “to speak the truth, we are
all liable to error.” “Not to trespass on your time, I will
briefly explain the whole affair,” that is, “that I may speak,”
“that I may not trespass.”
Rule XVI.—The imperative, agreeably to the
general rule, agrees with its nominative, as,
“Love thou;” “listen ye,” or “you.”
Note 1.—The imperative is frequently used, without its
subject, that is, the nominative being suppressed, but the
person or persons being perfectly understood. “And
Samuel said to the people, Fear not,” i.e. “Fear ye not.”
Note 2.—It is employed in the same way, in an absolute
sense, without its subject. “Our ideas are movements of the
nerves of sense, as of the optic nerve, in recollecting visible
ideas, suppose of a triangular piece of ivory.”—Darwin. I
agree with Webster in thinking, that there is “a peculiar
felicity” in such absolute forms of expression, the verb being
thus applicable to any of the three persons, thus, “I may
suppose,” “you may suppose,” “one may suppose.”
Rule XVII.—Participles are construed as the verbs
to which they belong, as,
“Teaching us to deny ungodliness.”
Note 1.—The imperfect participle is frequently used like
a substantive, and is, in such examples, of the same import
with the infinitive of the verb; as, “they love reading,” i.e.
“they love to read.” In some examples it becomes a real
noun, and has a plural number, as, the outgoings of the
morning.
Note 2.—Lowth contends that, when the imperfect participle
of a transitive verb is not preceded by the definite article,
it properly governs the objective case, and is analogous
to the Latin gerund, as, “much advantage will be derived
from observing this rule;” in which example, this rule is the
regimen of the participle observing; and that, when the definite
article precedes the participle, it becomes then a pure
noun, and, therefore, cannot have the regimen of a verb. He
therefore condemns this expression, “by the sending them
the light of thy holy Spirit.” Some of our grammarians
consider Lowth, in this instance, as fastidiously critical;
but to me he appears chargeable with error. Let us examine
the reasons, which the author adduces in support of his
opinion.
In this inquiry, the first and most pertinent question is,
does usage justify the opinion of the author? He acknowledges
the contrary: he even admits that there is not a single
writer who does not violate this rule. Were it necessary,
indeed, after this concession, it would be easy to evince, that
not only our translators of the Bible, whose authority surely
is of great weight, but also other writers of the highest eminence,
employ the phraseology which he condemns.
Again. Does the distinction, which he wishes to establish,
favour perspicuity? The very reverse appears to me to
be the case; for he admits an identity of sense in two distinct
phraseologies, which are incontestably, in many instances,
susceptible of different meanings. And, though this ambiguity
may not be involved in every example, we have surely
good reasons for repudiating a phraseology which may, in
any instance, be liable to misconstruction. We are to prescribe,
not what may be perspicuous in some instances, but
what must be intelligible in all.
Lowth says, that we may express the sentiment, either by
inserting the article before the participle and the preposition
after it, or by the omission of both; in other words, that these
phraseologies are equivalent. Thus, according to him, we may
say either, “by sending his Son into the world,” or “by the
sending of his Son.” Here, perhaps, the meaning is sufficiently
clear, whichsoever of these forms of expression be
adopted. But let us take another example, as, “he expressed
the pleasure he had, in hearing the philosopher.” Now, according
to Lowth, we may also say, “he expressed the pleasure
he had, in the hearing of the philosopher.” Is there no
difference of sentiment here? Are these expressions equivalent?
The contrary must be obvious to the most inattentive
reader. According to the former phraseology, the philosopher
was heard—he is represented as passive; agreeably to
the latter, he was active—he heard.
Again. “When the Lord saw it, he abhorred them, because
of the provoking of his sons and daughters.” Our
translators have correctly exhibited the sentiment. The sons
and daughters had given offence; they had provoked the Deity.
But, if Lowth’s opinion be correct, the expression might be
“because of provoking his sons and daughters;” a phrase
which evidently conveys a very different idea.
Again. When it is said, “at the hearing of the ear, they
will believe,” is this expression convertible, without violating
the sense, into, “at hearing the ear they will believe?”
Many more examples might be produced to prove that these
phraseologies, which Lowth considers of the same import, are
by no means equivalent. It appears, then, that perspicuity
is not consulted by adopting this rule.
Again. He considers the participle, with a preposition
before it, as correspondent to the Latin gerund, and therefore
governing an objective case; but the participle preceded
by an article, he considers as a substantive, and therefore
incapable of any regimen. Now, as the author reasons from
one language to another, we may pertinently ask, is not the
Latin gerund a noun, a verbal substantive, not only having
the form, and the inflexions of a noun, but governed like it,
by nouns, adjectives, verbs, and prepositions, itself likewise
governing the case of its verb? This position, were this the
place for it, we could easily prove, notwithstanding the objections
which Scioppius, Vossius, with some other grammarians,
have alleged against it. Nay, whatever theory be adopted
respecting the nature of the gerund, there cannot exist a
doubt, that, in the early ages of Roman literature, the verbal
nouns in io governed an accusative, like the verbs whence
they were derived. Quid tibi curatio est hanc rem, is one
example from Plautus out of many, which might be produced[126].
That the supines also were, in truth, substantives
admitting a regimen, is equally clear: Difficile dictu was
originally difficile in dictu; and misit oratum opem, misit
ad oratum opem. Nor can the structure of the future infinitive
passive be so satisfactorily resolved, notwithstanding a
few repugnant examples, as on this supposition: Dixit libros
lectum iri is resolved into dixit (id) iri ad lectum libros,
where libros is the regimen of the verbal noun lectum.
Thus it is evident, that the Latin gerunds, supines, and
verbal nouns in io, though in form and inflexion substantives,
governed an accusative case. It matters not, indeed,
to the point in question, what was the practice of the ancients
in this respect; nor should I, therefore, have dwelt so
long on this subject, did I not conceive, that the very authority
to which Dr. Lowth seems to appeal, militates against
him; and that the very language, to which in this, as in most
other cases, he strives to assimilate ours, had nouns governing
cases, like the verbs from which they came.
From the preceding observations, I think it must appear,
that the rule given by Dr. Lowth, is neither sanctioned by
general usage, nor friendly to perspicuity; while the violation
of it is perfectly reconcilable with the practice of the
Roman writers, if their authority can, in this question, be
deemed of any value.
Having attempted to prove the invalidity of Lowth’s argument,
and the impropriety of his rule, as establishing an identity
of meaning, where a difference must exist, I would submit
to the candid and judicious critic the following remarks.
The participle in ing has either an active or passive signification;
its import must, therefore, be determined by the
judgment of the reader, or by explanatory adjections. Whatever,
then, is calculated to remove all misconstruction, and
to render its import clear and unequivocal, merits attention.
Consistently, then, with some of the examples already adduced,
I am inclined to suggest, that, when the noun, connected
with the participle, is active or doing something, the
preposition should be inserted, as, “in the hearing of the
philosopher,” that is, the philosopher hearing; and that,
when the noun represents the subject of an action, or what is
suffering, the preposition should be omitted, as, “in hearing
the philosopher,” or the philosopher being heard. An attention
to this rule will, I conceive, in most cases prevent
ambiguity.
If it should be said that I have admitted Lowth’s phraseologies,
I answer, it is true; but with this difference, that
he considers them as equivalent, and I as diametrically
opposite. I observe, likewise, that, though I prefer the suppression
of the article when the participle is not followed by
of, and its insertion when it is followed by the preposition,
it is not because I perceive any impropriety in the other
phraseology, but because, since the publication of Lowth’s
Grammar, it has been less employed; and because also it
less forcibly marks the distinction, which I have recommended.
That it has the sanction of good authority, is unquestionable;
and that it is not inconsistent with analogy,
will still further appear from the following note.
Note 3.—The participle in ing is construed like a noun,
governing the genitive case, and, at the same time, having
the regimen of its proper verb, as, “Much depends on
Richard’s observing the rule, and error will be the consequence
of his neglecting it.” In this example, the words
Richard’s and his are in the genitive case, governed by the
participles observing and neglecting, while these participles,
having here every character of a noun, admit the objective
case. This form of expression has been received as unexceptionable;
the following phraseology, however, has been
censured, though, in truth, precisely analogous to the one
now exemplified: “Much depends on the rule’s being observed,
and error will be the consequence of its being
neglected.” “Here,” said a certain writer, “is a noun with
a pronoun representing it, each in the possessive case, that is,
under the government of another noun, but without any other
noun to govern it; for being observed and being neglected
are not nouns, nor can you supply the place of the possessive
case by the preposition of, before the noun or pronoun.”
I concur with Dr. Campbell, who has examined this objection,
in thinking, that the expression is not only sanctioned
by good usage, but is also agreeable to analogy, and
preventive of circumlocution. The objector, indeed, does
not seem to have been aware, that his opinion is at variance
with itself; and that the reason, which he assigns for rejecting
this phraseology, would, with equal force, conclude
against another mode of expression, which he himself approves.
For he would have no objection to say, “Much
depends on his observing the rule, and error will be the consequence
of his neglecting it.” Now let us try whether this
sentence be not liable to the same objection as the other.
In the former, he says, you cannot possibly supply the place
of the possessive case, by the preposition of before the noun
or pronoun. This is true; for it would not be English to
say, “Much depends on the being observed of the rule; and
error will be the consequence of the being neglected of it.”
But will his own approved phraseology admit this? Let us
see; “Much depends on the observing of him of the rule,
and error will be the consequence of the neglecting of him
of it.” Were the example simpler, the argument would be
equally strong; as, “Much depends on your pupil’s composing,
but more on his reading frequently.” This sentence,
the author alluded to, would have approved. Let us try if it
can be resolved by of: “Much depends on the composing
of your pupil, but more on the reading of him frequently.”
The author’s argument, then, if it prove anything, proves
too much; it cannot, therefore, have any weight.
In addition to these observations, I would remark, that the
writer’s argument involves another inconsistency. He admits
that the participle in ing may be thus construed; for he approves
the phrases, “his observing the rule,” and “his neglecting
it.” Why then does he reject “his being” and “its
being?” for the past or perfect participles observed and neglected
have no share in the government, rule’s and it’s being
under the regimen of the participle in ing. In fact, then, the
phrase seems no more objectionable than “his being a great
man did not make him a happy man;” which our author
would admit to be wholly unexceptionable.
Some late writers, reasoning doubtless on a principle
similar to that, the absurdity of which we have been attempting
to expose, have discarded a phraseology which appears
unobjectionable, and substituted one which seems less correct.
Many writers, instead of saying, “his being smitten
with the love of Orestilla was the cause of his murdering his
son,” would say, “he being smitten with the love of Orestilla
was the cause.” This seems to me an idle affectation of the
Latin idiom, less precise than the common mode of expression,
and less consonant with the genius of our language.
For, ask what was the cause; and, according to this phraseology,
the answer must be he; whereas the meaning is, that
not he, but his being smitten, was the cause of his murder.
“This jealousy accounts for Hall charging the Duke of
Gloucester with the murder of Prince Edward.” “This,”
says Mr. Baker, very justly, “is, in my opinion, a very uncouth
way of speaking, though much used by ignorant
people, and often affected by those who are not ignorant.”
The writer should have said, “for Hall’s charging.” “His
words being applicable to the common mistake of our age
induce me to transcribe them.” Here I agree with the same
writer in thinking, that it would be better to consider words
as in the genitive case plural, governed by the participle, as
Hall’s in the preceding example, and join his words’ being
applicable, equivalent to the applicability of his words, with
the verb singular; thus, “his words’ being applicable to the
common mistake of our age, induces me to transcribe them.”
A ridiculous partiality in favour of the Latin idiom, which in
this case is not so correct as our own, not exhibiting the
sentiment with equal precision, has given birth to this
phraseology, which in many cases conveys not the intended
idea. For, as Priestley remarks, if it is said, “What think
you of my horse’s running to-day?” it is implied, that the
horse did actually run. If it is said, “What think you
of my horse running to-day?” it is intended to ask, whether
it be proper for my horse to run to-day. This distinction,
though frequently neglected, deserves attention; for it is
obvious, that ambiguity may arise from using the latter only
of these phraseologies, to express both meanings.
Note 4.—This participle is sometimes used absolutely, in
the same manner as the infinitive mood, as, “this conduct,
viewing it in the most favourable light, reflects discredit on
his character.” Here the participle is made absolute, and is
equivalent to the infinitive in that state, as, “to view it in
the most favourable light.” Both these modes of expression
are resolvable, either by the hypothetical, or the perfective
conjunctions; thus, “if we view it in the most favourable
light.” “To confess the truth, I have no merit in the case;”
i.e. “that I may confess.”
Rule XVIII.—A noun or pronoun joined to a
participle, its case being dependent on no word in
the sentence, is put in the nominative.
Note 1.—This rule will be perfectly understood by the
classical scholar, when we say, that the absolute case in
English is the nominative. Thus, “We being exceedingly
tossed the next day, they lightened the ship.” The pronoun
of the first person, joined to the participle, being, is neither
the nominative to any verb, nor is it connected with any
word, of which it can be the regimen. It is therefore put in
the nominative case.
Note 2.—This rule is violated in such examples as the
following, “Solomon made as wise proverbs as anybody has
done, him only excepted, who was a much wiser man than
Solomon.”—Tillotson.
“For only in destroying I find ease
To my relentless thoughts; and, him destroy’d,
Or won to what may work his utter loss,
For whom all this was made, all this will soon
Follow,”—Milton.
This seems to be the only example in which the poet has
transgressed this rule; and in several instances, in which he
has observed it, Bentley would erroneously substitute the
objective case.
Rule XIX.—Prepositions are joined with the objective
case, or govern nouns and pronouns in the accusative,
as, “he ran to me,” “he was loved by us.”
Note 1.—This rule is violated in such expressions as these,
“Who servest thou under?” “Who do you speak to?” for
the syntactical arrangement is, “thou servest under who?”
“thou speakest to who?” instead of “under whom?” “to
whom?”
Note 2.—The preposition is frequently separated from its
regimen, as, “Horace is an author, whom I am much delighted
with,” i.e. “with whom I am much delighted.”
Note 3.—The prepositions to and for are often understood,
as, “he gave me a book,” “he told me the news:” i.e. “he
gave to me,” “he told to me.”
Lowth has, indeed, observed, that in such examples, the
pronouns, me, thee, &c., may be considered to be in the dative
case, as, in truth, they are in Saxon the datives of their
respective pronouns, and in their form include to, as, “woe
is to me.” This phrase, he observes, is pure Saxon, the
same as, “wae is me,” in which me is a dative case.
The preposition by is also, in a few colloquial expressions,
omitted, as, “he went across the bridge,” “he crossed the
bridge,” for “he crossed (the river) by the bridge.”
Note 4.—A preposition, following a verb, constituting with
it what has been termed a compound active verb, is sometimes
suppressed. We say, “he hoped for a reward,” “you
wondered at his courage.” Addison, Steele, and Johnson,
with several other reputable writers, say, “It is to be hoped,”
instead of “to be hoped for;” and Johnson very generally
says, “It is not to be wondered,” for “not to be wondered at.”
The latter form of expression seems to have been adopted,
in order to avoid the abrupt and inelegant conclusion of the
clause, especially when followed by the word that.
Note 5.—The prepositions in, on, for, and from, are often
understood before nouns of time and place; thus, “this day,”
“next month,” “last year,” are often used elliptically for
“on this day,” “in next month,” “in last year.” We say,
also, “He was banished England,” i.e. “from England.”
Care, however, should be taken that the omission create
no ambiguity. If we say, “He was deaf some years before
he died,” referring to a temporary deafness, and a point of
time at which it occurred, the expression is not improper,
though the meaning might be more clearly expressed; but if
we intend to signify a continued deafness, we ought to say,
“for” or “during some years.”
Note 6.—The preposition is improperly omitted in the
following line of Pope’s:
“And virgins smiled at what they blush’d before.”
It should be, according to the rules of syntax, “smiled at what
they blushed at before,” both verbs requiring at after them,
thus, “they smiled at that, at which they blushed before.”
Note 7.—Prepositions should be placed as near as possible
to each of the words, whose relation they express. The following
sentence from Hume is, in this respect, faulty: “The
ignorance of the age in mechanical arts, rendered the progress
very slow of this new invention.” It should be, “the
progress of this new invention.” The following sentence
from Johnson, is, for the same reason, chargeable with faulty
arrangement: “The country first dawned, that illuminated the
world, and beyond which the arts cannot be traced of civil
society or domestic life.”—Rasselas. It should be, “the arts
of civil society or domestic life cannot be traced.” Priestley
has censured the following clause from Harris, “being in no
sense capable of either intention or remission.” If it be considered,
however, that the word either properly means “the
one or the other,” and in truth denotes the subject, being,
therefore, in strict propriety, the regimen of the preposition,
the arrangement of Harris, though now not so common as the
other, will not appear exceptionable. Nay, whatever may be
the future decision of usage, that great arbitress of all language,
(for at present she is divided,) Harris’s arrangement
seems more conformable to the strict meaning of the words,
as well as to Priestley’s own rule, than that, which the latter
recommends; thus, “capable of either (i.e. of the one or of
the other), intension, or remission.”
Rule XX.—Adverbs have no government.
Note 1.—They are sometimes improperly used for adjectives,
as, “After those wars of which they hoped for a soon
and prosperous issue.”—Sidney. “A soon issue” is not
English; an adverb cannot agree with a substantive; it should
be “a speedy and prosperous issue.” Such expressions likewise
as the following, though not destitute of authority, are
exceedingly inelegant, and irreconcilable with analogy: “the
then ministry,” for “the ministry of that time;” “the above
discourse,” for “the preceding discourse.”
Note 2.—They are sometimes used like substantives, as,
“a little while,” for “in a little time,” or “for a little time.”
“Worth while,” “some how,” “any how,” “any where,”
are examples of the same kind.
Note 3.—The adverbs whence, thence, hence, are equivalent
to, “from which place,” “from that place,” “from this
place;” from whence, from thence, from hence, are therefore
chargeable with redundancy.
Note 4.—Never is sometimes erroneously used for ever, as,
“they might be extirpated, were they never so many.” It
should be, “ever so many,” i.e. “how many soever.” “Who
will not hearken to the voice of the charmer, charm he never
so sweetly.” It should be, “ever so sweetly;” i.e. “however
sweetly,” or “how sweetly soever.”
Note 5.—Ever is likewise sometimes improperly used for
never, as, “I seldom or ever see him now.” It should be,
“seldom or never,” the speaker intending to say, “that rarely,
or rather at no time, does he see him now;” not “rarely,” or
“at any time.”
Note 6.—Priestley remarks, that the French always place
their adverbs immediately after their verbs, which order, he
observes, by no means suits the English idiom. “His government
gave courage to the English barons to carry farther
their opposition.”—Hume. It would be better, “to carry
their opposition farther.” “Edward obtained a dispensation
from his oath, which the barons had compelled Gaveston to
take, that he would abjure for ever the realm;” better “the
realm for ever.”
Note 7.—The adverb is generally placed between the auxiliary
verb and the participle, as, “this is perfectly understood.”
When there are more auxiliaries than one, the same
author observes, that the adverb should be placed after the
first. This rule, however, is by no means universally followed;
for many of our best writers employ a different arrangement,
and, I think, with great propriety; as, “this will
be perfectly understood,” where the adverb follows both auxiliaries.
The place of the adverb may, in general, be ascertained,
by considering what word it is intended to qualify:
and, in the last example, it should be closely connected with
understood. But more on this subject in the following note.
Note 8.—The adverb, as its name imports, is generally
placed close to the word, which it modifies or affects: its force,
therefore, very much depends upon its position. Inattention
to the proper collocation of adverbs is frequently the cause
of much obscurity and misconception. To this inattention
we may ascribe the ambiguity in the following sentence: “He
was not honoured with this reward, but with the approbation
of the people.” This sentence may imply, either that he was
honoured with this reward, not without the approbation of
the people; or that he was not honoured with this reward,
but was honoured with the approbation of the people. The
latter is the meaning intended. It should therefore be, “he
was honoured, not with this reward, but with the approbation
of the people.” By this arrangement the sentiment is
correctly exhibited—the two subjects, reward and approbation,
are perspicuously contrasted, and while the former is
negatived, the latter is affirmed[127].
Note 9.—Lowth observes that “the adverb should be for
the most part placed before adjectives, and after verbs;”
thus, “he was excessively modest,” “he fought bravely.”
This is, indeed, the general arrangement; but it admits many
exceptions. In no case are writers so apt to err as in the
position of the word only. Its place, in my opinion, is after
the substantive to which it refers, or which it exclusively implies,
and before the attributive. In the following sentence
of Steele’s, the collocation is faulty: “
The bridegroom sits with an aspect which intimates his thoughts were not only
entertained with the joys with which he was surrounded, but
also with a noble gratitude, and divine pleasure.” This collocation
of the two adverbs implies that his thoughts were
something more than entertained: whereas it is the author’s
intention to say, that his thoughts were entertained with
something more than joys. The sentence, therefore, should
proceed thus: “The bridegroom sits with an aspect, which
intimates, that his thoughts were entertained not with the
joys only, with which he was surrounded, but also with a
noble gratitude and divine pleasure.”[128]
When Addison says (Spec. No. 412), “By greatness I do
not only mean the bulk of any single object, but the largeness
of a whole view,” the question naturally occurs, what
does he more than mean? It is evident that, agreeably to
this arrangement, the adverb refers to mean, exclusively of all
other attributes or actions, and being prefaced by a negative,
implies “that he does something more than mean.” In this
criticism I concur with Blair, who has expressed his disapprobation
of this arrangement.
Had he, as the same author observes, placed the adverb
after bulk, it would have still been wrong. For if he had
said, “I do not mean the bulk only,” then the adverb, following
a noun substantive, must refer to it exclusively of every
other, and the clause being negative, the question would be,
what does he mean more than the bulk? Is it the colour,
the beauty, or what else?
Now, as Mr. Addison intended to say that he did not mean
one thing, the word only should have followed the name of that
thing, whether its designation was simple or complex. He
should, therefore, have said, “the bulk of any single object
only, but the largeness of a whole view.” According to this
arrangement, the word only refers, as it ought, to “the bulk
of any single object” as one idea; and the question occurs,
what does he mean more than the bulk of any single object?
to which the answer follows, “the largeness of a whole view.”
It may, however, at the same time be observed that, consistently
with the practice of some of our best writers, who
place the adverb before its subject, there seems no impropriety
here in saying, “I do not mean only,” i.e. “one thing,”
“the bulk of a single object, but the largeness of a whole
view.”
“The perfidious voice of flattery reminded him,” says Gibbon,
“that by exploits of the same nature, by the defeat of
the Nemean lion, and the slaughter of the wild boar of Erymanthus,
the Grecian Hercules had acquired a place among
the gods, and an immortal memory among men.” “They
only forgot to observe that, in the first ages of society, a successful
war against savage animals is one of the most beneficial
labours of heroism.” In the beginning of the latter sentence
the adverb only is misplaced. As it stands, the meaning
is that they were the only persons who forgot: it should
be “only they forgot to observe;” i.e. “one thing they forgot,”
namely, “to observe.” To this erroneous collocation
in Gibbon, I shall oppose a similar example from Pope, in
which the adverb is correctly placed. In a letter to Hughes,
speaking of the compliments which this gentleman had paid
to him on his translation of Homer, he acquaints him, that
he should be ashamed to attempt returning these compliments;
one thing, however, he would observe, namely, that
he esteemed Mr. Hughes too much not to be pleased with the
compliments which he had received from him. His words,
therefore, are, “I should be ashamed to offer at saying any
of those civil things, in return to your obliging compliments,
in regard to my translation of Homer: only I have too great
a value for you not to be pleased with them;” where the word
only introduces the clause, and is equivalent to “one thing
is true,” or “thus much (tantum), I say, I have too great a
value,” &c. Here it is obvious that the adverb, as it precedes
the pronoun, does not refer to it; and that Mr. Pope’s
collocation of it is perfectly correct, to express the sentiment,
which he intended. Had he said, “I only,” the adverb
would have referred to the pronoun, and implied that he
was the only person who valued. Had he intended to say,
that he merely entertained an esteem for him, but could not
manifest it, then the presence of the auxiliary would have
been necessary, and he would have expressed himself thus,
“I do only entertain too great an esteem for you;” that is,
“I do only (one thing) entertain too great an esteem.” Had
he said, “I have only too great a value for you,” it would
be properly opposed to, “and not too little.” Had he said,
“I have too great a value only,” then value would be contrasted
with some other sentiment, as when one says, he “has
wealth only, but not virtue,” for example, or any other acquirement.
As a violation of this rule, I adduce also the
following expression of a reviewer. “We only discharge
our duty to the public;” a declaration which, strictly interpreted,
means “we are the only persons who discharge.”
It should be, “we do only (one thing) discharge our duty;”
for the writer intended to say, that he did nothing but discharge
his duty to the public[129]. In justification of such inaccuracies,
it is impertinent to plead, that a little attention will
prevent misconception. It is the business of every author to
guard his reader, as far as the language in which he writes
will permit, from the possibility of misconstruction, and to
render that attention to the language unnecessary. Quintilian’s
maxim cannot be too often repeated to those who, by
such apologies, attempt to defend any avoidable ambiguity[130].
The following sentence is justly censured by Blair, and also
by Baker, in his “Remarks.” “Theism,” says Shaftesbury,
“can only be opposed to polytheism or atheism.” He ought
to have said, observes Baker, “Theism can be opposed only
to polytheism or atheism.” Dr. Blair concurs in opinion with
the remarker. I am inclined, however, to differ from both;
and think, that the sentence should run thus: “Theism can
be opposed to polytheism only, or atheism;” where the adverb
only refers to the noun immediately preceding, and is understood
to the other, implying, that these two systems of belief
are the only creeds to which theism can be opposed. If this
be not the proper arrangement, it is obvious, that no definite
rule can be given on the subject. For, if the adverb may be
placed either before or after the substantive, to which it refers,
then precision becomes impossible, and we may say, “he
only” or “only he” to express the same sentiment; which
collocations, I have already shown, denote ideas materially
different. But, if there be a definite and precise rule for the
position of this word, and if the sense be different, according
to the collocation of the adverb, then I think it will
appear, that it ought to be subjoined to the substantive or
pronoun to which it refers; and this opinion is supported
by the authority of Blair himself, in the examples which I
have just now adduced. For why, unless on this principle,
does he contend that the word only should be placed after the
bulk of a single object? If the adverb then be, in this example,
rightly placed after the substantive or complex name,
to which it refers, it ought to have the same position assigned
to it in every similar instance. That the adverb, in the last
example, refers to “polytheism,” there can be no question;
it should therefore follow, and not precede, it.
I am well aware, that many examples may be produced,
wherein, with an arrangement different from that here recommended,
the sense would, notwithstanding, be perfectly
clear; and, perhaps, Blair’s collocation, in the last example,
may be adduced as an instance. But when a rule, conducive
to perspicuity, is once established, every unnecessary deviation
from it should be studiously avoided, or, at least, not
wantonly adopted.
The sentence, as it stands in Shaftesbury, implies that
theism is capable of nothing, but of being opposed to polytheism,
or atheism; “Theism can only (one thing, namely)
be opposed to polytheism or atheism;” where it is evident
that only refers to be opposed, agreeably to the rule now
given. In the same manner, if I say, “he was only great,”
it is implied, that he was nothing but great, the adverb being
placed before the attributive, to which it refers. Hence the
question naturally is, what was he not besides? The answer
may be, “not good,” “not wise,” “not learned.” Were the
adverb placed after the pronoun, it would imply, that “he
was the only person who was great.”[131]
I am perfectly aware, that the rule here given will not, in
all cases, preclude ambiguity; but whenever it becomes
doubtful, whether the adverb is intended to affect the preceding
substantive, or the following attributive, a different
form of expression may be adopted, and the use of the
auxiliary, along with the principal verb, will, in many instances,
ensure perspicuity. This expedient, however, cannot
always be employed. If we say, “The manufacturer only
was prosperous,” it may be uncertain, whether the adverb is
to restrict the predicate “prosperous” to the manufacturer,
implying that he was the only prosperous man, or to the verb
expressing past time, signifying that he was then, but is not
now prosperous. If the former be the meaning intended, we
may say, “he was the only prosperous man;” if the latter,
we may say, “the manufacturer was once,” or “was then, the
only prosperous man.”
It would have contributed much to perspicuity, if authors
had adopted one uniform practice, placing the adverb constantly,
either before or after its subject, whether a substantive
or an attributive[132]. But, where usage is so divided,
and where the adoption of a new and general rule would
be now liable to insuperable objections, all that can be successfully
attempted is, in accommodation to existing circumstances,
to reduce the evil within narrow limits, if we cannot,
by any precise rule, entirely remove it. With this view we
would recommend, that when the adverb refers not to a
word, but to a sentence or clause, it be placed at the beginning
of that sentence or clause; where it refers to a
predicate, it precede the predicating term; and when it has
a reference to a subject, it follow its name or description.
An observation, however, already made, may be here repeated,
namely, that in the last case, a different collocation
may often be adopted without the risk of ambiguity, and even
with advantage to the structure of the sentence.
Note 10.—Adverbs, as Lowth observes, are generally
placed before the adjective to which they refer. This rule,
however, admits a few exceptions. The adverb enough is
always placed after its adjective, as, “the reward was small
enough.” The proper position of this adverb, indeed, seems
to be immediately after the adjective; it is frequently, however,
placed at some distance from it, as, “a large house
enough.” Usage is, indeed, somewhat divided on this point,
Mr. Baker, and a few others, pleading for the following
arrangement, “a large enough house.” The former collocation,
however, seems far the more general; and is recommended
by that rule, by which the substantive and adjective
should be placed in juxta-position, or as near as
possible to each other. The latter is defended by the principle,
that the qualifying adverb should be placed close to
the adjective, whose signification it modifies. This collocation
is generally, however, pronounced a Scotticism; but it is
not peculiar to Scotch writers.
Rule XXI.—Conjunctions have no government.
Note 1.—In giving this rule, I differ from all other grammarians,
who have erroneously, as I conceive, assigned them
a regimen. Some conjunctions, says Lowth, govern the indicative,
and some the subjunctive mood. This I affirm
without hesitation to be a great mistake; for not a single example,
I venture to assert, can be produced, in which the
verb is divested of its indicative form, in consequence of its
being subjoined to any conjunction. The Latins had a form
of the verb, which they properly enough denominated the
subjunctive mood; because, where the meaning was unconditionally
assertive, they employed this form, if the clause
was preceded by some particular conjunctive or adverbial
term. Thus, when they said, adeo benevolus erat, ut omnes
eum amarent, “he was so benevolent, that all men loved
him,” though the assertion in the latter clause, be evidently
unconditional, as the English shows, they changed the indicative
into another form, because the verb is preceded by the
conjunction ut. No similar example can be produced in
English.
Lowth informs us, that, when hypothesis, conditionality,
or contingency is implied, the mood should be subjunctive;
if certainty, or something determinate and absolute be signified,
the verb should be indicative. Now surely, if the
sense require a form different from the indicative, the verb
cannot be said to be under the government of the conjunction;
for the verb assumes that form, not because preceded
by the conjunctive term, or because it is under its government,
but because the sentiment to be expressed requires that
phraseology. Whether the conditional, or what Lowth terms
the subjunctive, be a distinct form of the verb, or only an
elliptical mode of expression, we have already inquired. See
p. 126.
Note 2.—Mr. Harris says, that the chief difference between
prepositions and conjunctions is, that the former couple
words, and the latter sentences. This opinion is erroneous;
for conjunctions frequently couple words, as in the following
example: “A man of wisdom and virtue is a perfect character.”
Here it is not implied, that “a man of wisdom is a
perfect character;” but “a man of wisdom combined with
virtue, or a man of wisdom and virtue.” That conjunctions,
indeed, do not couple at all, in that sense, at least, in which
grammarians have understood the term, Mr. Tooke seems to
have incontestably proved. That they sometimes couple
sentences, or that instances may be produced, in which
Harris’s definition will appear correct, the following example
will serve as an evidence: “You, and I, and John rode to
town;” i.e. “you rode,” “and I rode,” “and John rode.”
But to assert, that this is their distinctive property, is to affirm
what may be disproved by numberless examples. If we
say, “two and two are four.” Are two four, and two four?
“A B, B C, and C A, form a triangle.” Is A B a triangle?
or B C? or C A? “John and Mary are a handsome couple.”
Is John a couple? and Mary a couple? The common theory,
therefore, is false; nor is it to be doubted, that conjunctions
are, in respect to signification, and were originally in regard
to their regimen, verbs, or words compounded of nouns and
attributives. In explaining them, however, I divided them,
as the reader may remember, into the several classes of adversative,
concessive, conditional, &c. This I did, not only in
conformity to general usage, and that he might not be a
stranger to the names assigned to them; but likewise for this
reason, that, though they originally formed no distinct species
of words, but were either verbs, or compounds of nouns and
verbs, they have now assumed another character, and are
construed in a different manner. It is necessary, however,
that he should be acquainted not only with their present use,
but also with their primitive import, and classification.
How these words were degraded from their original rank,
and deemed insignificant, while some, perhaps, lost their syntactical
power, is a matter, I conceive, of no difficult inquiry.
For, when the verbs, to which any of these words belonged,
became obsolete, the words themselves, thus separated from
their parent stock, and stripped of that consequence and
authority which they thence derived, their extraction becoming
daily more dubious, and their original value more obscure,
sunk by degrees into inferior note, and at last dwindled into
comparative insignificance. Besides, many of them, doubtless,
were transplanted into our language without the radices;
their etymology, therefore, being little known, their primitive
character, and real import, would soon be involved in increasing
darkness.
It is to be considered, also, that those who have dispensed
the laws of grammar in our language, or assumed the office
of critics, have been generally such as, though perhaps
sufficiently conversant in Greek and Latin, were entirely unacquainted
with the Northern languages. Accustomed,
therefore, to render the conjunctions and prepositions in
Greek or Latin, by synonymous English words, and unacquainted
with the true character of these vernacular terms,
their etymons being obsolete, or having never been used in
our language, it is easy to conceive how they would naturally
assign to the English words the same character and the same
name which were affixed to the synonymous Latin terms.
Nay, this has been so much the case, that we have ascribed
an ambiguous character to several English words, referring
them now to one class, then to another, merely because they
agree in signification with certain Greek and Latin terms,
which have been severally referred by classical grammarians
to different orders. That the word whether has uniformly,
in our language, the same import and the same character,
denoting “which of the two,” there can be no doubt; yet,
because this word answers sometimes to an, anne, num, and
sometimes to uter, grammarians and lexicographers have accounted
it both a conjunction and a pronoun. Utrum in
Latin has shared the same fate. So far, indeed, has this
spirit been carried, that we will not admit except, according,
concerning, respecting, with many similar terms, to be verbs
or participles, because præter, secundum, de, are prepositions.
It is from this propensity to assimilate ours with the Latin
language, that all these errors have arisen.
That the words now termed prepositions and conjunctions
were originally verbs, or nouns, or compounds of these,
Tooke has, in my judgment, incontrovertibly proved. This
being admitted, it appears to me highly probable, that they
were primitively construed as such, joined either with the nominative
or the objective case, as the verbs had either a transitive
or intransitive meaning; and that they were followed
by either single words or clauses. This, however, is merely
conjecture, founded indeed in the nature of the words, but
not supported by any evidence. In process of time, in consequence
of that assimilation which naturally takes place between
a living language and a dead one, much read, much
written, and much admired, these words, when their origin
became obscure, would, as I have remarked, be divested of
their primitive character, and be considered as belonging to
those classes, to which the synonymous Latin words were
referred. Hence their regimen would likewise undergo a
change. It would appear awkward and vicious to say now,
“I saw nobody but he;” is not improbable, however, that
the mode of expression was originally, “I saw nobody, be out
he,” i.e. “he be out.” But I am now indulging in conjecture,
the very error which chiefly has misled us in our grammatical
researches. One thing, however, is certain, that several words,
which were originally employed as prepositions or conjunctions
indifferently, have now acquired a more fixed character,
and are used but seldom in a double capacity. Of this the
word without is an example. Thus, it was not unusual to
say, “without you go, I will not,” where the term of exclusion,
though in truth a preposition prefixed to a clause, was
considered as a conjunction synonymous with nisi. This
usage, unless in conversation, is now almost entirely relinquished;
and the term without is now generally employed as
a preposition, being prefixed to single words. It is likewise
certain that in respect to signification there is no difference
between conjunctions and prepositions: vidi neminem nisi
eum, is equivalent to vidi neminem præter eum. In like
manner, “I saw nobody but him,” is synonymous with “I
saw nobody besides him;” in which examples the conjunctions
nisi and but are perfectly synonymous with præter and
besides, which are termed prepositions.
It may be asked, if then prepositions and conjunctions be
alike verbs, or nouns, or compounds of these, and if many
prepositions and conjunctions be in point of meaning identical,
what forms the ground of distinction between them? It
is simply this, that the former are prefixed to single words
only, as nouns and pronouns, or to clauses involving an infinitive
mood[133], the infinitive being strictly the name of the
verb; and that they have a regimen; while the latter are
prefixed to clauses, and have no regimen. This is the only
distinction between prepositions and conjunctions as discriminated
in modern use. Their original character is sufficiently
established by Mr. Tooke.
I have said that some of these words have, in our language,
an ambiguous character, being employed both as prepositions
and conjunctions. Of this the word than is an example.
Priestley seems to consider it as a preposition, and pleads in
favour of the following expression, “you are taller than him,”
not “taller than he.” “Since it is allowed,” says the Doctor,
“that the oblique case should follow prepositions, and since
the comparative degree of an adjective, and the particle than,
have certainly between them the force of a preposition, expressing
the relation of one word to another, they ought to
require the oblique case of the pronoun following, so that,
greater than me will be more grammatical than greater than
I.” Here I cannot concur with the learned author. The
same argument would prove that major quam me, would be
more grammatical than major quam ego; a conclusion which
is opposed by universal authority. The truth is, than must be
either a conjunction or a preposition, or both. If a conjunction,
it can have no government, any more than the Latin
quam; unless we confound the distinction which has been
just now explained, and is universally admitted, namely, that
conjunctions are distinguished from prepositions, by their
having no government. If it be a preposition, no argument
is necessary to prove that it may be joined with an objective
case; for such is the distinguishing character of prepositions.
If it be either a preposition or a conjunction, it follows, that
it may be construed either with or without a regimen. Lowth,
with greater propriety, considers it as a conjunction; and
Campbell, in his “Rhetoric,” recommends this usage as the
only means of preventing that ambiguity, which necessarily
arises from the employment of this word as a preposition
only. For, if we use it as a preposition, we should say, “I
love you better than him,” whether it be meant “I love you
better than I love him,” or “I love you better than he does.”
By using it as a conjunction, the ambiguity is prevented.
For, if the former sentiment be implied, we say, “I love you
better than him,” i.e. “than I love him;” if the latter, we
say, “I love you better than he,” i.e. “than he loves you.”
Whatever may have been the original character or syntax of
this word, since usage is now divided, some writers employing
it as a conjunction, and others as a preposition, the grammarian
may, consistently with his duty, plead for that usage
only, which prevents ambiguity.
The rule here recommended is generally violated, when
than is joined with the relative pronoun, as, “Alfred, than
whom a greater king never reigned.” “Beelzebub, than
whom, Satan excepted, none higher sat.” Salmon has attempted
to account for this almost universal phraseology, by
saying, that the expression is elliptical, being the same as,
“than compared with whom.” This explanation is forced
and unnatural. It is likewise unnecessary. The simple fact
is, that the word than was formerly used as a preposition,
and, I believe, more frequently than it is now. Hence,
doubtless, arose this phraseology.
Rule XXII.—Derivatives are generally construed
like their primitives; as, “it was a happy thing for this
country, that the Pretender was defeated;” or “happily
for this country the Pretender was defeated.” Thus also,
“to compare with,” and “in comparison with riches;”—“to
depend on,” and his “dependence on the court.”
Rule XXIII.—One negative destroys another; or
two negatives are equivalent to an affirmative; as,
“nor have I no money, which I can spare;” that is,
“I have money, which I can spare.”—“Nor was the
king unacquainted with his designs;” that is, “he
was acquainted.”
Note 1.—Here our language accords with the Latin. In
Greek and French, two negatives render the negation stronger.
Note 2.—This rule is violated in such examples as this,
“Nor is danger ever apprehended in such a government, no
more than we commonly apprehend danger from thunder or
earthquakes.” It should be any more.
Rule XXIV.—Interjections are joined with the objective
case of the pronoun of the first person, and with
the nominative of the pronoun of the second, as, “ah
me,” “oh me,” “ah thou wretch,” “O thou who
dwellest.”
Syntax being that part of grammar, which teaches rules
not only for the concord and government, but also for the
order of words in clauses and sentences, I shall subjoin the
few following brief directions for the guidance of the scholar,
respecting arrangement.
1st. The collocation should never invert the natural order
of events, or violate the principles of reason and metaphysical
propriety. It is obvious, for example, that no person
can write, who cannot read. The ability to do the former
necessarily implies a capacity to do the latter. It is preposterous,
therefore, to say with Addison, “There will be few in
the next generation, who will not at least be able to write and
read.” He should have said, “to read and write.” “He was
the son of a mother, who had nursed him with maternal
tenderness, and had borne him in an hour of the deepest
affliction.” The natural order of events should have dictated
the reverse arrangement. There would be a manifest impropriety
in saying “Our father is well, and alive;” the former
state necessarily implying the latter. In the following passage,
however, it is perhaps excusable, the answers particularly
corresponding to the questions: Joseph says to his
brothers, “Is your father well? The old man, of whom ye
spake, is he yet alive?” They answer, “Thy servant, our
father, is in good health; he is yet alive.” This error was
termed by the ancient grammarians hysteron proteron; and,
though not so palpably as in the preceding examples, it
occurs much more frequently than an inattentive reader is
apt to imagine.
2nd. The English language admits but few inflexions, and
therefore little or no room for variety of arrangement. The
connection of one word with another is not to be perceived,
as in Greek and Latin, by correspondence of termination,
but by relative position. This renders it indispensably
necessary, that those words which are intimately related by
sense one to another, should be closely connected by collocation.
“The cunning of Hannibal was too powerful for the
Pergamenians, who by the same kind of stratagem had frequently
obtained great victories at land.” The relative here,
by its position, must be understood as referring to the Pergamenians;
whereas it is intended to refer to Hannibal. The
relative clause, therefore, should have followed the name of
the Carthaginian. “His picture, in distemper, of calumny,
borrowed from the description of one painted by Apelles,
was supposed to be a satire on that cardinal.”—Walpole.
The error here is obvious. He should have said, “His
picture of calumny.” “It is folly to pretend to arm ourselves
against the accidents of life, by heaping up treasures, which
nothing can protect us against, but the good providence of
our heavenly Father.”—Sherlock. Here the grammatical
antecedent is treasures; but it is intended to be accidents.
The relative is removed from its proper subject.
3rd. As the converse of the preceding rule, it may be observed,
that those words should be separated, which in juxta-position
may, at first sight, or first hearing, possibly convey
a meaning which the speaker or writer does not intend. “I,
like a well-bred man, who is never disposed to mortify or to
offend, praised both sorts of food.” As the two introductory
words are capable of two meanings, would it not be better to
say, “Like a well-bred man ... I praised both sorts of
food.” I am aware, that the other collocation is preferable,
where a particular stress is to be laid on the principal subject;
but ambiguity is an error, which should be studiously
avoided, and the meaning should not be left to the determination
of a comma.
4th. From the preceding rules, it follows as a corollary,
that no clause should be so placed in a sentence, as to be
referable either to what precedes, or what follows. “The
knight, seeing his habitation reduced to so small a compass,
and himself in a manner shut out of his own house, on the
death of his mother, ordered all the apartments to be flung
open.” The clause in italics is ambiguously placed.
5th. When each of two arrangements is equally favourable
to perspicuity, and equally consistent with metaphysical propriety,
that should be preferred which is the more agreeable
to the ear.
6th. Harsh and abrupt cadences should be avoided; and
in elevated style, the clauses should swell towards the close
of the sentence. This latter rule, however, which requires
some limitations, belongs to the province of the rhetorician,
rather than to that of the grammarian.
Having explained and illustrated the etymology and syntax
of the English language, as fully as the limits, which I have
prescribed to myself, will permit, I would now request the
reader’s attention to some additional observations.
The grammar of every language is merely a compilation of
those general principles, or rules, agreeably to which that
language is spoken. When I say, a compilation of rules, I
would not be understood to mean, that the rules are first
established, and the language afterwards modelled in conformity
to these. The very reverse is the fact: language is
antecedent to grammar. Words are framed and combined to
express sentiment, before the grammarian can enter on his
province. His sole business is, not to dictate forms of
speech, or to prescribe law to our modes of expression; but,
by observing the modes previously established, by remarking
their similarities and dissimilarities, his province is to deduce
and explain the general principles, and the particular forms,
agreeably to which the speakers of that language express
themselves. The philosopher does not determine by what
laws the physical and moral world should be governed; but,
by the careful observation and accurate comparison of the
various phenomena presented to his view, he deduces and
ascertains the general principles, by which the system is
regulated. The province of the grammarian seems precisely
similar. He is a mere digester and compiler, explaining
what are the modes of speech, not dictating what they
should be. He can neither assign to any word a meaning
different from that which custom has annexed to it; nor can
he alter a phraseology, to which universal suffrage has given
its sanction. Usage is, in this case, law; usage quem penes
arbitrium est, et jus et norma loquendi. If it were now the
practice to say, “I loves,” instead of “I love,” the former
phraseology would rest on the same firm ground, on which
the latter now stands; and “I love,” would be as much a
violation of the rules of grammar, or, which is the same
thing, of established usage, as “I loves” is at present.
Regula est, quæ rem, quæ est, breviter enarrat; non ut ex
regula jus sumatur, sed ex jure, quod est, regula fiat.—Paul.
Leg. 1, de Reg. Jur.
Having said thus much to prevent misconception, and to
define the proper province of the grammarian, I proceed to
observe, that this usage, which gives law to language, in
order to establish its authority, or to entitle its suffrage to
our assent, must be, in the first place, reputable.
The vulgar in this, as in every other country, are, from
their want of education, necessarily illiterate. Their native
language is known to them no farther, than is requisite for
the most common purposes of life. Their ideas are few, and
consequently their stock of words poor and scanty. Nay,
their poverty, in this respect, is not their only evil. Their
narrow competence they abuse and pervert. Some words
they misapply, others they corrupt; while many are employed
by them, which have no sanction, but provincial or
local authority. Hence the language of the vulgar, in one
province, is sometimes hardly intelligible in another. Add
to this, that debarred by their occupations from study, or
generally averse to literary pursuits, they are necessarily
strangers to the scientific improvements of a cultivated
mind; and are therefore entirely unacquainted with that
diction, which concerns the higher attainments of life.
Ignorant of any general principles respecting language, to
which they may appeal; unable to discriminate between
right and wrong; prone therefore to adopt whatever usage
casual circumstances may present; it is no wonder, if the
language of the vulgar be a mixture of incongruity and error,
neither perfectly consistent with itself, nor to themselves
universally intelligible. Their usage, therefore, is not the
standard, to which we must appeal for decisive authority;
a usage so discordant and various, that we may justly apply
to it the words of a celebrated critic,
Bellua multorum es capitum; nam quid sequar, aut quem?
The question then is, what is reputable usage? On this
subject philologists have been divided. Dr. Campbell appears
to me to decide judiciously, when he says, that the
usage, to which we must appeal, is not that of the court, or
of great men, nor even of authors of profound science, but of
those, whose works are esteemed by the public, and who
may, therefore, be denominated reputable authors. By referring
to their practice, he appeals to a standard less equivocal,
than if he had resorted to the authority of good writers;
for, as he justly observes, there may be various opinions
respecting the merits of authors, when there may be no disagreement
concerning the rank which they hold in the estimation
of the public; and, because it is the esteem of the
public, and not their intrinsic merit, (though these go generally
hand in hand,) that raises them to distinction, and
stamps a value on their language. Besides, it is to be observed,
that consummate knowledge is not always accompanied
with a talent for communicating it: hence the sentiment
may be confessedly valuable, while the language is
regarded as of no authority.
This usage must be, in the second place, national. It
must not be confined to this or that province; it must not be
the usage of this or that district, the peculiarities of which
are always ridiculous, and frequently unintelligible beyond
its own limits; but it must be the general language of the
country, intelligible everywhere, and in no place ridiculous.
And, though the variety of dialects may collectively form a
greater number of authorities than national usage can boast,
taken singly they are much fewer. Those, to use Campbell’s
apposite similitude, who deviate from the beaten road, may
be incomparably more numerous than those who travel in it;
yet, into whatever number of by-paths the former may be
divided, there may not be found in any one of these tracks so
many as travel in the king’s highway.
In the third place, this usage must be present. Here it
may be asked, what is meant by present usage? Is it the
usage of the present year, the present age, or the present century?
How is it defined, or by what boundary is it limited?
In short, how far may we revert in search of decisive authority?
may we go back, for example, as far as Chaucer, or
must we stop at the age of Addison?
In determining this matter, the same learned and judicious
critic observes, that regard must be had to the species of composition
and the nature of the subject. Poetry is properly
allowed a greater latitude than prose; and therefore, a word,
which in prose we should reject as a barbarism, may, with
strict propriety, be admitted in verse. Here, also, there are
limits which must not be passed; and, perhaps, any word,
which cannot plead the authority of Milton, or of any contemporary
or later poet, may be justly regarded as obsolete.
In prose, no word, unless the subject be art or science, should
be employed, which has been disused for a period greater
than the age of man. This is the judgment of the same
critic. Against this answer, indeed, it is possible to raise a
thousand cavils; and, perhaps, we shall be reminded of the
poet’s strictures on the term ancient in his days[134]. One thing,
however, is certain, that, though it be difficult to fix a precise
limit, where the authority of precedent terminates, and
legislative usage commences, or to define with precision the
age of man, it must be acknowledged, that there are limits,
in respect to usage, which we must not overleap, as there is
a certain term, which the life of man cannot surpass.
As there is a period, beyond which precedent in language
ceases to have authority; so, on the contrary, the usage of
the present day is not implicitly to be adopted. Mankind are
fond of novelty; and there is a fashion in language, as there
is in dress. Whim, vanity, and affectation, delight in creating
new words. Of these, the far greater part soon sink into
contempt. They figure for a little, like ephemeral productions,
in tales, novels, and fugitive papers; and are shortly
consigned to degradation and oblivion. Now, to adopt every
new-fangled upstart at its birth, would argue not taste, nor
judgment, but childish fondness for singularity and novelty.
On the contrary, if any of these should maintain its ground,
and receive the sanction of a reputable usage, to reject it, in
this case, would be to resist that authority, to which every
critic and grammarian must bow with submission. The term
mob, for example, was, at its introduction, zealously opposed
by Dean Swift. His resistance, however, was ineffectual;
and to reject it now would betray prudish affectation, and
fruitless perversity. The word inimical, previously to the
American war, could, I believe, plead, in its favour, only one
authority. In some dictionaries, accordingly it was omitted;
and in others stigmatized as a barbarism. It has now obtained
a permanent establishment, and is justly admitted by
every lexicographer.
“In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold;
Alike fantastic, if too new or old:
Be not the first, by whom the new are tried,
Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.”
Pope’s Essay on Criticism.
In short, in this, as in every other question on this subject,
perspicuity should be our guide. If the subject be
art or science, or if the composition be intended for literary
men, then a greater latitude may be allowed, as the reader is
supposed to be master of the language, in all its varieties.
But if the subject be accommodated to common capacity, and
the composition designed for ordinary readers, the rule now
given, not to employ a word, which has been disused for a
period greater than the age of man, will be deemed, I conceive,
rational and necessary.
The usage, then, which gives law to language, and which
is generally denominated “good usage,” must be reputable,
national, and present. It happens, however, that “good
usage” is not always uniform in her decisions, and that unquestionable
authorities are found for different modes of expression.
In such cases, the following canons, proposed by
the same author, will be of considerable service, in enabling
the reader to decide, to which phraseology the preference is
due. These canons I shall give, nearly in the words of the
author; and illustrate them, as I proceed, by a few apposite
examples, partly his, and partly my own.
Canon I.—When the usage is divided, as to any particular
words or phrases, and when one of the expressions is susceptible
of a different meaning, while the other admits only one
signification, the expression, which is strictly univocal, should
be preferred.
For this reason, aught[135], for “anything,” is better than
ought; scarcely, as an adverb, better than scarce; by consequence
is preferable to of consequence, which signifies
also “of importance;” and exceedingly, as an adverb, is
preferable to exceeding.
For the same reason, to purpose, for “to intend,” is better
than to propose, which signifies also “to lay before,” or “submit
to consideration;” and proposal, for “a thing offered or
proposed,” is better than “proposition,” which denotes also
“a position,” or the “affirmation of any principle or maxim.”
Thus we say, “he demonstrated Euclid’s proposition,” and
“he rejected the proposal of his friend.”
Agreeably also to this canon, disposal, in common language,
when a grant, or giving away is denoted, or when the
management of anything is to be expressed, is preferable to
disposition, which signifies also arrangement, and likewise
temper of mind; and exposure, as the verbal noun from expose,
is better than exposition, the verbal noun of expound.
We should say, “the exposure of a fault,” and “the exposition
of a text.” The analogous words composure, from compose,
and composition, from compound, or compose, have been
suffered to retain their distinct significations. “To speak
contemptuously of a person,” is better than “to speak contemptibly;”
the latter term meaning generally, “in a contemptible
manner,” or, “in a manner worthy of contempt;”
whereas the former is univocal, and denotes disrespectfully, or
“in a manner significant of contempt.”
For the same reason, obvious, for “evident,” is better than
apparent, which means also “seeming,” as opposed to “real.”
The term primitive, as equivalent to original, is preferable
to primary. The latter is synonymous with principal, and is
opposed to secondary; the former is equivalent to original,
and is opposed to derivative or acquired. I shall illustrate
this distinction by a few examples. The words falsehood and
lie agree in expressing the same primary idea, namely, “contrariety
to fact;” but they differ in their secondary ideas, the
former implying simply, “inconsistency with physical truth,”
the latter being a term of reproach, expressing “a wilful
breach of veracity, or of moral truth.” To kill, and to murder,
agree also in their primary ideas, both denoting “the deprivation
of life;” but they differ in their secondary, the former
implying no moral turpitude, the latter denoting an immoral
act. From these examples it will appear, that primary denotes
“what is principal or chief,” as opposed to “secondary,”
or “subordinate.”
Primitive is equivalent to original; thus we say, the primitive
meaning of the word villain, was “a nearer tenant to
the lord of the manor;” custom has altered its signification,
and it now denotes “a wicked fellow.” Thus the primary
and the primitive meaning of words may be very different;
these terms, therefore, ought to be duly discriminated.
Intension, for “the act of stretching or straining,” is for
the same reason, preferable to intention, which signifies also
“purpose,” or “design.” “I am mistaken,” is frequently
used to denote “I misunderstand,” or “I am in error;” but
as this expression may also signify, “I am misunderstood,”
it is better to say, “I mistake.”
This canon I would earnestly recommend to the observance
of every writer, who is solicitous to exclude all unnecessary
ambiguity, but more emphatically to my junior readers, who
are peculiarly prone to the violation of this rule, misled by
false notions of elegance and dignity. There prevails at present
a foolish and ridiculous, not to say absurd, disposition in
some writers, to prefer in every instance, with no discrimination,
long to short words. They seem to entertain an inveterate
antipathy to monosyllabic terms; and disdaining
whatever savours of Saxon origin, are incessantly searching
after the sesquipedalia verba of Greek or Latin extraction,
with no regard whatever to precision and perspicuity. Thus
many words, which cannot be dismissed without detriment
to the language, are falling into disuse, and their places supplied
by equivocal and less appropriate terms.
Canon II.—In doubtful cases analogy should be regarded.
For this reason, contemporary is better than cotemporary,
con being used before a consonant, and co before a vowel; as,
concomitant, coeval.
For the same reason, “he needs,” “he dares,” “whether
he will or not,” are better than “he need,” “he dare,”
“whether he will or no.” The last of the three phraseologies,
here recommended, Priestley thinks exceptionable. To me,
as to Campbell, the ellipsis appears evident; thus, “whether
he will, or will not:” hence “will not” seems the only analogical
expression.
Canon III.—When expressions are in other respects equal,
that should be preferred, which is most agreeable to the ear.
This requires no illustration.
Canon IV.—When none of the preceding rules take place,
regard should be had to simplicity. On this ground, “accept,”
“approve,” “admit,” are preferable to “accept of,”
“approve of,” “admit of.”
I have already observed, that no expression, or mode of
speech, can be justified, which is not sanctioned by usage.
The converse, however, does not follow, that every phraseology,
sanctioned by usage, should be retained; and, in such
cases, custom may properly be checked by criticism, whose
province it is, not only to remonstrate against the introduction
of any word or phraseology, which may be either unnecessary
or contrary to analogy, but also to extrude whatever
is reprehensible, though in general use. It is by this exercise
of her prerogative, that languages are gradually refined
and improved; and were this denied, language would soon
become stationary, or more probably would hasten to decline.
In exercising this authority, she cannot pretend to degrade instantly
any phraseology, which she may deem objectionable;
but she may, by repeated remonstrances, gradually effect its
dismission. Her decisions in such cases may be properly regulated
by the following canons, as delivered by the same author.
Canon I.—All words and phrases, particularly harsh, and
not absolutely necessary, should be dismissed; as, “shamefacedness,”
“unsuccessfulness,” “wrongheadedness.”
Canon II.—When the etymology plainly points to a different
signification from what the word bears, propriety and
simplicity require its dismission. For example, the word
“beholden,” taken for “obliged,” or the verb “to unloose,”
for “to loose,” or “untie,” should be rejected.
Canon III.—When words become obsolete, or are never
used, but in particular phrases, they should be repudiated;
as they give the style an air of vulgarity and cant, when their
general disuse renders them obscure. Of these “lief,” “dint,”
“whit,” “moot,” “pro and con,” furnish examples; as, “I
had as lief go,” “by dint of argument,” “not a whit better,”
“a moot point,” “it was argued pro and con.” These
phraseologies are vulgar, and savour too much of cant to be
admitted in good writing.
Canon IV.—All words and phrases, which, analyzed grammatically,
include a solecism, should be dismissed; as, “I
had rather go.” The expression should be, “I would,” or
“I’d rather go:” and from the latter, the solecism “I had
go,” seems by mistake to have arisen, I’d being erroneously
conceived to be contracted for I had, instead of a contraction
for I would. This is the opinion of Campbell, and to this
opinion I expressed my assent, in the former edition of this
Treatise. I acknowledge, however, that it now appears to me
not strictly correct; and that Webster has not questioned its
accuracy on insufficient grounds. In the phrases adduced by
Campbell, such as “I’d go,” “I’d rather stay,” we can readily
perceive the probability that I’d is a contraction for “I would.”
But in such expressions as “I had like to have been caught,”
which occur not only in colloquial language, but also in
authors of considerable name, it is impossible to admit Campbell’s
explanation. I must observe also, that the phraseology,
which he censures, occurs in some of our earliest writers, and
is so frequently found in Pope and Swift, that one is tempted
to infer, notwithstanding its solecistic appearance, that it is
genuine English. It is difficult, however, nay, perhaps impossible,
to reconcile it to analogy. Were I to offer conjecture
on the subject, I should be inclined to say, that in such
phrases as “I had go,” I had is, by a grammatical figure
very common in English, put for I would have, or I would
possess, and that the simple name of the act or state, by an
ellipsis perhaps of the verbal sign, is subjoined, as the object
wished, no regard being had to the completion of the action;
in the same manner as we say, I would have gone, when we
wish the action perfected. But by whatever authority this
phraseology may be recommended, and in whatever way it
may be reconciled to the rules of syntax, it has so much the
appearance of solecism, that I decidedly prefer with Campbell
the unexceptional form of expression, I would. The phrase
I had like appears to me utterly irreconcilable with any
principle of analogy.
Canon V.—All expressions, which, according to the established
rules of the language, either have no meaning, or
involve a contradiction, or, according to the fair construction
of the words, convey a meaning different from the intention
of the speaker, should be dismissed. Thus, when a person
says, “he sings a good song,” the words strictly imply that
“the song is good,” whereas the speaker means to say, “he
sings well.” In like manner, when it is said, “this is the
best part he acts,” the sentence, according to the strict interpretation
of the words, expresses an opinion, not of his
manner of acting, but of the part or character which he acts.
It should be, “he acts this part best,” or “this is the part
which he acts best.” “He plays a good fiddle,” for “he
plays well on the fiddle,” is, for the same reason, objectionable.
Of expressions involving a contradiction, the following
will serve as an example. “There were four ladies in company,
every one prettier than another.” This is impossible.
If A was prettier than B, B must have been less pretty than
A; but by the expression every one was prettier than another,
therefore B was also prettier than A. Such absurdities as
this ought surely to be banished from every language[136].
Of those, which have little or no meaning, Campbell has
given us examples, “currying favour,” “having a month’s
mind,” “shooting at rovers.” Such modes of expression, he
justly calls trash, the disgrace of any language.
These canons I have extracted from “Campbell on
Rhetoric,” a book which I would recommend to the reader’s
attentive perusal.
I proceed to observe, that to write any language with
grammatical purity, implies these three things:
1st. That the words be all of that language.
2ndly. That they be construed and arranged, according to
the rules of syntax in that language.
3rdly. That they be employed in that sense, which usage
has annexed to them.
Grammatical purity, therefore, may be violated in three
ways:
1st. The words may not be English. This error is called
barbarism.
2ndly. Their construction may be contrary to the English
idiom. This error is termed solecism.
3rdly. They may be used in a sense different from their established
acceptation. This error is named impropriety[137].
The barbarism is an offence against lexicography, by admitting
new words, as, “volupty,” “connexity,” “majestatic;”
or by using obsolete words, as, “uneath,” “erst;” or an
offence against etymology, by improper inflection, as,
“teached” for “taught,” “oxes” for “oxen.”
The solecism is an offence against the rules of syntax, as,
“I reads,” “you was.”
The impropriety is an offence against lexicography, by
mistaking the meaning of words or phrases.
A solecism is regarded by grammarians as a much greater
offence than either of the others; because it betrays a greater
ignorance of the principles of the language. Rhetorically
considered, it is deemed a less trespass; for the rhetorician
and grammarian estimate the magnitude of errors by different
standards; the former inquiring only how far any error
militates against the great purpose of his art—persuasion;
the latter, how far it betrays an ignorance of the principles of
grammar. Hence with the former, obscurity is the greatest
trespass; with the latter, solecism, and that species of barbarism
which violates the rules of etymology[138].
Having, in the preceding chapter, explained the nature of
that usage which gives law to language; and having proposed
a few rules for the student’s direction in cases where
usage is divided, and also where her authority may be justly
questioned and checked by criticism; I intend, in the following
pages, to present the young reader with a copious exemplification
of the three general species of error against
grammatical purity, arranging the examples in the order of
the parts of speech.
BARBARISM.
“I rode in a one-horse chay.” It ought to be “a one-horse
chaise.” There is no such word as chay.
“That this has been the true and proper acception of this
word, I shall testify by one evidence.”—Hammond. Acception
is obsolete; it ought to be acceptation.
“Were the workmen to enter into a contrary combination
of the same kind, not to accept of a certain wage.”—Wealth
of Nations. Wage is obsolete; the plural only is used.
“Their alliance was sealed by the nuptial of Henry, with
the daughter of the Italian prince.”—Gibbon. Nuptial has
not, I believe, been used as a substantive since the days of
Shakspeare, and may be deemed obsolete. The plural nuptials
is the proper word.
“He showed that he had a full comprehension of the whole
of the plan, and of the judicious adaption of the parts to
the whole.”—Sheridan’s Life of Swift. Adaption is obsolescent,
if not obsolete: adaptation is the proper term.
Adaption is frequently employed by Swift, from whom
Sheridan seems to have copied it.
... “Which even his brother modernists themselves, like
ungrates, whisper so loud that it reaches up to the very
garret I am now writing in.”—Swift. “Ungrate” is a barbarism.
“Ingrate” is to be found in some of our English
poets as an adjective, and synonymous with “ungrateful;”
but “ungrate,” as a substantive, is truly barbarous. Almost
equally objectionable is Steele’s use of stupid as a substantive
plural. “Thou art no longer to drudge in raising
the mirth of stupids.”—Spectator, No. 468. And also of
ignorant, “the ignorants of the lowest order.”—Ibid.
Pope also says, in one of his letters, “We are curious impertinents
in the case of futurity.” This employment of the
adjective as a noun substantive, though never sanctioned by
general use, is now properly avoided by our most reputable
writers. It tends to confusion, where distinction is necessary.
“The Deity dwelleth between the cherubims.” The
Hebrews form the plural of masculines by adding im;
“cherubims,” therefore, is a double plural. “Seraphims,”
for the same reason, is faulty. The singular of these words
being “cherub” and “seraph,” the plural is either “cherubs”
and “seraphs,” or “cherubim” and “seraphim.” Milton has
uniformly avoided this mistake, which circumstance Addison,
in his criticisms on that author, has overlooked; nay, he has,
even with Milton’s correct usage before him, committed the
error. “The zeal of the seraphim,” says he, “breaks forth
in a becoming warmth of sentiments and expressions, as the
character which is given of him,” &c. Here “seraphim,” a
plural noun, is used as singular. It should be, “the zeal of
the seraph.”
“Nothing can be more pleasant than to see virtuosoes
about a cabinet of medals descanting upon the value, the
rarity, and authenticalness of the several pieces.” Authenticalness,
though used by Addison, is obsolescent, and may,
perhaps, be deemed a barbarism. It may be properly dismissed,
as a harsh and unnecessary term.
“He broke off with Lady Gifford, one of his oldest acquaintances
in life.”—Sheridan’s Life of Swift. Acquaintances
is now deemed a Scotticism, being almost peculiar to
the northern parts of the island. Johnson, however, did not
disclaim it. “A young student from the inns of court, who
has often attacked the curate of his father’s parish, with such
arguments as his acquaintances could furnish.”—Rambler.
We find it also in Steele; thus, “she pays everybody their
own, and yet makes daily new acquaintances.”—Tatler, No. 109.
“I am sure that the farmeress at Bevis would feel emotions
of vanity ... if she knew you gave her the character
of a reasonable woman.”—Lord Peterborough to Pope.
This, I believe, is the only passage in which farmeress is to
be found; but, though it may therefore be pronounced a
barbarism, the author could not have expressed himself so
clearly and so concisely, in any other way. We every now
and then, as Johnson observes, feel the want of a feminine
termination.
“The bellowses were broken.” The noun, as here inflected,
is barbarous. “Bellows” is a plural word denoting
a single instrument, though consisting of two parts. There
is, therefore, no such word as “bellowses.”
“I have read Horace Art of Poetry.” This expression
may be deemed solecistical, being a violation of that rule,
by which one substantive governs another in the genitive.
It should be, “Horace’s Art of Poetry.” “These are ladies
ruffles,” “this is the kings picture,” are errors of the same
kind, for “ladies’ ruffles,” “the king’s picture.”
“These three great genius’s flourished at the same time.”
Here “genius’s,” the genitive singular, is improperly used
for “geniuses,” the nominative plural.
“They have of late, ’tis true, reformed, in some measure,
the gouty joints and darning work of whereunto’s, whereby’s,
thereof’s, therewith’s, and the rest of this kind.”—Shaftesbury.
Here also the genitive singular is improperly used for
the objective case plural. It should be, whereuntos, wherebys,
thereofs, therewiths.
“Both those people, acute and inquisitive to excess, corrupted
the sciences.”—Adams’s History of England.
“Two rival peoples, the Jews and the Samaritans, have
preserved separate exemplars of it.”—Geddes’ Preface to his
Translation of the Bible. The former of these passages involves
a palpable error, the word “people,” here equivalent
to nation, and in the singular number, being joined with both
or “the two,” a term of plurality. In the latter, this error is
avoided, the noun being employed in the plural number.
This usage, however, though sanctioned by the authority of
our translators of the Bible in two passages, seems now to be
obsolete. States, tribes, nations, appear to be preferable.
“I bought a scissars,” “I want a tongs,” “it is a tattered
colours,” involve a palpable solecism, the term significant of
unity being joined with a plural word. It should be “a pair
of scissars,” “a pair of tongs,” “a pair of colours.”
“They tell us, that the fashion of jumbling fifty things together
in a dish was at first introduced, in compliance to a
depraved and debauched appetite.”—Swift.
We say, “comply with;” therefore, by Rule xvii. “in compliance
with” is the analogical form of expression, and has
the sanction of classical usage.
“The fortitude of a man, who brings his will to the
obedience of his reason.”—Steele. Analogy requires “obedience
to.” We say, obedient to command: the person
obeying is expressed in the genitive, or with the preposition
of; and the person or thing obeyed with the preposition to,
as, “a servant’s obedience,” or “the obedience of a servant
to the orders of his master.”
“Give attendance to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine.”—Bible.
“Attendance” and “attention” are verbal nouns,
derived from “attend.” When the verb signifies “to regard,”
or “to fix the mind upon,” it is followed by to, as,
“he attends to his studies,” and the verbal noun is “attention,”
construed, agreeably to Rule xvii. in the same manner
as the verb. Thus, “he gives attention to his studies.” But
when “to attend” signifies “to wait on,” or “be present at,”
it is followed by on, upon, or at, and is sometimes used
without the preposition.
Thus, “if any minister refused to admit a lecturer recommended
to him, he was required to attend upon the committee.”—Clarendon.
“He attended at the consecration with becoming gravity.”—Hume.
In this sense the verbal noun is “attendance,” and
construed like the verb, when it bears this signification. In
the sentence, therefore, last quoted, syntax requires, either
“attendance at” or “attention to.” The latter conveys the
meaning of the original.
IMPROPRIETY.
“The observation of the Sabbath is a duty incumbent on
every Christian.” It should be, “the observance.” Both
substantives are derived from the verb “to observe.” When
the verb means “to keep,” or “obey,” the verbal noun is
“observance;” when “to remark,” or “to notice,” the noun
is “observation.”
“They make such acquirements, as fit them for useful
avocations.”—Staunton’s Embassy to China.
The word avocation is frequently, as in the example before
us, confounded with vocation. By the latter is clearly signified
“calling,” “trade,” “employment,” “business,” “occupation;”
and by the former is meant whatever withdraws,
distracts, or diverts us from that business. No two words
can be more distinct; yet we often see them confounded.
“A supplication of twenty days was decreed to his honour.”—Henry’s
History of Britain. The term supplication is in
our language confined to what Johnson calls “petitionary
worship,” and always implies request, entreaty, or petition.
The Latin term supplicatio has a more extensive meaning,
and likewise supplicium, each denoting not only prayer,
strictly so called, but also thanksgiving. The latter of these
should have been employed by the author.
“Our pleasures are purer, when consecrated by nations,
and cherished by the greatest genii among men.”—Blackwell’s
Mythology. Genii means spirits. (See p. 18.) It
ought to be geniuses.
I have already remarked (see p. 31), that, when the primary
idea implied in the masculine and feminine terms is the
chief object of attention, and when the sex does not enter as
a matter of consideration, the masculine term should be employed,
even when the female is signified. Thus, the
Monthly Reviewer, in giving a critique on the poems of
Mrs. Grant, says, in allusion to that lady, “such is the poet’s
request.” This is strictly proper. He considers her merely
as a writer of poetry. But, were we to say, “as a poet she
ought not to choose for her theme the story of Abelard,” we
should be chargeable with error. For this would imply, that
the story of Abelard is not a fit subject for a poem,—a
sentiment manifestly false. There is no incongruity between
the subject and poetry, but between the subject and female
delicacy. We ought, therefore, to say, “as a poetess, she
ought not to choose for her theme the story of Abelard.”
“It was impossible not to suspect the veracity of this
story.” “Veracity” is applicable to persons only, and properly
denotes that moral quality or property, which consists
in speaking truth, being in its import nearly synonymous with
the fashionable, but grossly perverted term, honour: it is,
therefore, improperly applied to things. It should be “the
truth of this story.” The former denotes moral, and the
latter physical truth. We therefore say “the truth” or
“verity of the relation or thing told,” and “the veracity of
the relater.”
Pope has entitled a small dissertation, prefixed to his
translation of the Iliad, “A View of the Epic Poem,” misled,
it is probable, by Bossu’s title of a similar work, “Traité du
Poëme Epique.” Poem denotes the work or thing composed;
“the art of making,” which is here intended, is
termed poesy.
An error similar to this occurs in the following passage:
“I apprehend that all the sophism which has been or can be
employed, will not be sufficient to acquit this system at the
tribunal of reason.”—Bolingbroke. “Sophism” is properly
defined by Johnson, “a fallacious argument;” sophistry
means “fallacious reasoning,” or “unsound argumentation.”
The author should have said “all the sophistry,” or “all the
sophisms.”
“The Greek is, doubtless, a language much superior in
riches, harmony, and variety to the Latin.”—Campbell’s
Rhet. As the properties or qualities of the languages are
here particularly compared, I apprehend, that the abstract
“richness” would be a more apposite term. “Riches” properly
denotes “the things possessed,” or “what constitutes
the opulence of the owner;” “richness” denotes the state,
quality, or property of the individual, as possessed of these.
The latter, therefore, appears to me the more appropriate
term.
“He felt himself compelled to acknowledge the justice of
my remark.” The justness would, agreeably to Canon 1st,
be the preferable word, the former term being confined to
persons, and the latter to things.
“The negligence of this leaves us exposed to an uncommon
levity in our usual conversation.”—Spectator. It ought
to be “the neglect.” “Negligence” implies a habit; “neglect”
expresses an act.
“For I am of opinion that it is better a language should
not be wholly perfect, than it should be perpetually changing;
and we must give over at one time, or at length infallibly
change for the worse; as the Romans did when they
began to quit their simplicity of style for affected refinements,
such as we meet with in Tacitus, and other authors, which
ended, by degrees, in many barbarities.” Barbarity, in this
sense, is obsolescent. The univocal term, barbarism, is much
preferable.
Gibbon, speaking of the priest, says, “to obtain the acceptation
of this guide to salvation, you must faithfully pay
him tythes.” Acceptation in this sense is obsolete, or at least
nearly out of use; it should be favour or acceptance.
“She ought to lessen the extravagant power of the duke
and duchess, by taking the disposition of employments into
her own hands.”—Swift. Disposal, for reasons already
assigned[140], is much better.
“The conscience of approving one’s self a benefactor to
mankind, is the noblest recompense for being so.” “Conscience”
is the faculty by which we judge our own conduct.
It is here improperly used for “consciousness,” or the perception
of what passes within ourselves.
“If reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no
man a reason on compulsion.”—Shakspeare. Here plenty,
a substantive, is improperly used for plentiful.
“It had a prodigious quantity of windows.”—Spence’s
Excursions. It should be number. This error frequently
occurs in common conversation. We hear of “a quantity
of people,” of “a quantity of troops,” “a quantity of boys
and girls,” just as if they were to be measured by the bushel,
or weighed in the balance.—“To-morrow will suit me equally
well.” If we enquire here for a nominative to the verb, we
find none, morrow being under the government of the preposition.
This error is so common, that we fear its correction
is hopeless. The translators of the Bible seem carefully
to have avoided this inaccuracy:—“To-morrow (i.e. ‘on the
morrow’) the Lord shall do this;” “And the Lord did that
thing on the morrow.” Analogy requires, that we should
say, “The morrow will suit me equally well.”
“I have the Dublin copy of Gibbon’s History.” This is
a Scotticism for Dublin edition; and so palpable, that I
should not have mentioned it, were it not found in authors of
no contemptible merit. “I have no right to be forced,” said
a citizen to a magistrate, “to serve as constable.” This perversion
of the word right, originally, we believe, a cockneyism,
is gradually gaining ground, and is found in compositions,
into which nothing but extreme inattention can account
for its introduction. A right implies a just claim, or
title to some privilege, freedom, property, or distinction, supposed
by the claimant to be conducive to his benefit. We
should smile, if we heard a foreigner, in vindication of his innocence,
say, “I have no right to be imprisoned;” “I have
no right to be hanged.” The perversion here is too palpable
to escape our notice. But we hear a similar, though not so
ridiculous, an abuse of the word, in common conversation
without surprise. “I have no right,” says one, “to be taxed
with this indiscretion;” “I have no right,” says another, “to
be subjected to this penalty.” These phraseologies are absurd.
They involve a contradiction; they presume a benefit,
while they imply an injury. The correlative term on one
side is right, and on the other obligation; a creditor has a
right to a just debt, and the debtor is under an obligation to
pay it. Instead of these indefensible phraseologies we should
say, “I am not bound,” or “I am under no obligation to
submit to this penalty;” “I ought not to be taxed with
this indiscretion,” or “you have no right to subject me,”
“you have no right to tax me.”
Robertson, when speaking of the Mexican form of government
(Book viith), says, “But the description of their policy
and laws is so inaccurate and contradictory, that it is difficult
to delineate the form of their constitution with any precision.”
I should here prefer the appropriate and univocal
term polity, which denotes merely the form of government;
policy means rather wisdom or prudence, or the art of governing,
which may exist where there is no settled polity.
“A letter relative to certain calumnies and misrepresentations
which have appeared in the Edinburgh Review, with
an exposition of the ignorance of the new critical junto.”—Here,
agreeably to Canon I. (see p. 229), I should prefer exposure,
as being a word strictly univocal. It would conduce to
perspicuity were we to consider exposition as the verbal noun
of expound, and confine it entirely to explanation, and exposure
as the verbal noun of expose, signifying the act of setting
out, or the state of being set out or exposed.
BARBARISM.
“Instead of an able man, you desire to have him an insignificant
wrangler, opiniatre in discourse, and priding himself
on contradicting others.”—Locke. Opiniatre is a barbarism;
it should be opinionative.
“And studied lines, and fictious circles draw.”—Prior.
The word fictious is of Prior’s own coining; it is barbarous.
“The punishment that belongs to that great and criminous
guilt is the forfeiture of his right and claim to all mercies.”—Hammond.
Criminous is a barbarism.
“Which, even in the most overly view, will appear incompatible
with any sort of music.”—Kames’s Elements. Overly
is a Scotticism; in England it is now obsolete. The proper
term is cursory or superficial.
“Who should believe, that a man should be a doctor for
the cure of bursten children?”—Steele. The participle
bursten is now obsolete.
“Callisthenes, the philosopher, that followed Alexander’s
court, and hated the king, being asked, how one should become
the famousest man in the world, answered, By taking
away him that is.”—Bacon’s Apophth. The superlative is a
barbarism; it should be, “most famous.”
SOLECISM.
“I do not like these kind of men.” Here the plural word
these is joined to a noun singular; it should be, “this kind.”
“Those sort,” “these kind of things,” are gross solecisms.
“Neither do I see it is any crime, farther than ill manners,
to differ in opinion from the majority of either, or both
houses; and that ill manners I have often been guilty of.”—Swift’s
Examiner. Here is another egregious solecism. He
should have said, “those ill manners,” or “that species of
ill manners.”
“The landlord was quite unfurnished of every kind of provision.”—Sheridan’s
Life of Swift. We say, “to furnish
with,” not “to furnish of.” Furnished and unfurnished are
construed in the same manner. It should be, “unfurnished
with.”
“A child of four years old was thus cruelly deserted by its
parents.” This form of expression frequently occurs, and is
an egregious solecism. It should be, “a child four years old,”
or “aged four years,” not “of four years.” Those who employ
this incorrect phraseology, seem misled by confounding
two very different modes of expression, namely, “a child of
four years of age,” or “of the age of four years,” and “a child
four years old.” The preposition of is requisite in the two
first of these forms, but inadmissible in the third. They
would not say, “I am of four years old,” but “I am four
years old;” hence, consistently, they ought to say, “a child
four years old.” “At ten years old, I was put to a grammar
school.”—Steele. Grammatically this is, “I old at ten
years.”
“This account is very different to what I told you.” “I
found your affairs had been managed in a different manner
than what I advised.” Both these phraseologies are faulty.
It should be in each, “different from.” The verb “to differ”
is construed with from before the second object of disparity;
the adjective therefore should (by Rule xvii.) be construed in
the same manner.
“These words have the same sense of those others.”
Same should be followed with as, with, or the relatives who,
which, that. It ought, therefore, to be, “as those,” or “with
those,” or “have the sense of those others.”
“I shall ever depend on your constant friendship, kind
memory, and good offices, though I were never to see or
hear the effects of them, like the trust we have in benevolent
spirits, who, though we never see or hear them, we think
are constantly serving and praying for us.”—Pope’s Letters
to Atterbury. Like can have no grammatical reference to
any word in the sentence but I, and this reference is absurd.
He should have said, “as, or just as, we trust in benevolent
spirits.”
“This gentleman rallies the best of any man
I know.”—Addison.
The superlative must be followed by of, the preposition
implying out of a plurality, expressed either by a
collective noun, or a plural number. But here we have a selection
denoted by of, and the selection to be made out of
one. This is absurd. It should be, “better than any other”—the
best of all men—“I know;” “this gentleman, of all
my acquaintance, rallies the best;” or “of all my acquaintance,
there is no one, who rallies so well as this gentleman.”
“Besides, those, whose teeth are too rotten to bite, are
best, of all others, qualified to revenge that defect with their
breath.”—Preface to A Tale of a Tub.
“Here,” says Sheridan, “the disjunction of the word best
from the word qualified makes the sentence uncouth, which
would run better thus, ‘are, of all others, best qualified.’”
So far Mr. Sheridan is right; but he has left uncorrected a
very common error. The antecedent subject of comparison
is here absurdly referred at once to the same, and to a different
aggregate, the word of referring it to others, to which
it is opposed, and to which therefore it cannot, without a
contradiction, be said to belong. The sentence, therefore, involves
an absurdity: either the word others should be expunged,
when the sentence would run thus, “Those, whose
teeth are too rotten to bite, are, of all, best qualified to revenge
that defect;” or, if the word others be retained, the
clause should be, “are better qualified than all others.”[141]
The phraseology here censured is admissible in those cases
only where a previous comparison has been made. If we
say, “To engage a private tutor for a single pupil is, perhaps,
of all others, the least eligible mode of giving literary
instruction,” (Barrow on Education,) without making that
previous discrimination, which the word others implies, we
commit an error. But we may say with propriety, “I prefer
the mode of education adopted in our public schools;
and of all other modes, to engage a private tutor appears to
me the least eligible.”
IMPROPRIETY.
“They could easier get them by heart, and retain them in
memory.”—Adams’s History of England. Here the adjective
is improperly used for the adverb; it ought to be “more
easily.” Swift commits a similar error, when he says, “Ned
explained his text so full and clear,” for “so fully and clearly.”
“Thus much, I think, is sufficient to serve, by way of address,
to my patrons, the true modern critics, and may very
well atone for my past silence as well as for that, which I
am like to observe for the future.”—Swift. Like, or similar,
is here improperly used for likely, a word in signification
nearly synonymous with probable. We say, “he is likely to
do it,” or “it is probable he will do it.”
“Charity vaunteth not itself, doth not behave itself unseemly.”
Here the adjective unseemly is improperly used for
the adverb, denoting “in an unseemly manner.” Unseemlily
not being in use, the word indecently should be substituted.
“The Romans had no other subsistence but the scanty
pillage of a few farms.” Other is redundant; it should be,
“no subsistence but,” or “no other subsistence than.” In the
Saxon language, and the earlier English writers, the word
other is not uniformly followed by than, but sometimes with
but, before, save, except[142], thus, Mark xii. 32,
“thær an God is, and nis other butan him,” thus rendered in the Bishops’
Translation, “there is one God, and there is none but he,”
and in the common version, “none other but he.” In the
Book of Common Prayer we have, “Thou shalt have no other
Gods but me;” and the same form of expression occurs in
Addison, Swift, and other contemporary writers. Usage,
however, seems of late to have decided almost universally in
favour of than. This decision is not only consistent with
analogy, if the word other is to be deemed a comparative, but
may also, in some cases, be subservient to perspicuity. No
other but, no other beside, no other except, are equivalent expressions,
and do not perhaps convey precisely the same idea
with none but, no other than. Thus, if we take an example
similar to Baker’s, and suppose a person to say “A called on
me this morning,” B asks, “No one else?” “No other,”
answers A, “but my stationer.” Here the expression, as
Baker remarks, seems strictly proper, the words no other
having a reference to A. But if the stationer had been the
only visitor, he should say, “none but,” or “no other than
the stationer called on me this morning.” This is the opinion
of Baker. The distinction, which he wishes to establish, is
sufficiently evident; but that it is warranted by strict analysis,
I do not mean to affirm.
“He has eaten no bread, nor drunk no water, these two
days.” No is here improperly used for any, two negatives
making an affirmative: it should be, “nor drunk any water.”
“The servant must have an undeniable character.” Undeniable
is equivalent to incontrovertible, or “not admitting
dispute.” An “undeniable character,” therefore, means, a
character which cannot be denied or disputed, whether good
or bad: it should be “unexceptionable.”
“But you are too wise to propose to yourselves an object
inadequate to your strength.”—Watson’s History of
Philip III. Inadequate means “falling short of due proportion,”
and is here improperly used in a sense nearly the
reverse. It should be “to which your strength is inadequate,”
or “superior to your strength.”
“I received a letter to-day from our mutual friend.” I
concur with Baker in considering this expression to be incorrect.
A may be a friend to B, and also to C, and is therefore
a friend common to both; but not their mutual friend:
for this implies reciprocity between two individuals, or two
parties. The individuals may be mutually friends; but one
cannot be the mutual friend of the other. Locke more properly
says, “I esteem the memory of our common friend.”
This is, doubtless, the correct expression; but, as the term
common may denote “ordinary,” or “not uncommon,” the
word mutual, though not proper, may, perhaps, as Baker
observes, be tolerated.
The superlatives lowest and lowermost, highest and uppermost,
appear to me to be frequently confounded. Thus we say,
“the lowest house in the street,” when we mean the lowest in
respect to measurement, from the basement to the top, and
also the lowest in regard to position, the inferiority
being occasioned by declivity. Now it appears to me, that when we
refer to dimension, we should say, lowest or highest; and
when we refer to site or situation, we ought to say, lowermost
or uppermost.
“It was due, perhaps, more to the ignorance of the scholars,
than to the knowledge of the masters.”—Swift. It
should be rather, “it was owing,” or “it is ascribable.” The
author had previously been speaking of the first instructors
of mankind, and questioning their claim to the title of sages.
To say, then, that their right to this title, or that the appellation
itself, “was due more to ignorance than to knowledge,”
is manifestly improper. Swift, however, was not singular in
using the adjective in this sense. Steele, and some other
contemporary writers, employed it in the same acceptation.
“The calamities of children are due to the negligence of the
parents.”—Spectator, No. 431. It is now seldom or never
employed as equivalent to “owing to,” or “occasioned by.”
“Risible,” “ludicrous,” and “ridiculous,” are frequently
confounded. Risible denotes merely the capacity of laughing,
and is applied to animals having the faculty of laughter, as,
“man is a risible creature.” Ludicrous is applicable to things
exciting laughter simply; ridiculous to things exciting laughter
with contempt. The tricks of a monkey are ludicrous, the
whimsies of superstition are ridiculous. “The measure of the
mid stream for salmon among our forefathers is not less risible.”—Kames’s
Sketches. He should have said “ridiculous.”
We have already expressed our doubt of the propriety of
using the numeral adjective one, as referring to a plurality of
individuals, denoted by a plural noun. (See p. 48.) There is
something which is not only strange to the ear, but also
strikes us as ungrammatical, in saying[143], “The Greeks and
the Trojans continued the contest; the one were favoured by
Juno, the other by Venus.” At the same time, it must be
acknowledged, that there seems to be an inconsistency in
questioning this phraseology, and yet retaining some others,
which appear to be analogous to it, and can plead in their
defence reputable usage. We say, “The Romans and the
Carthaginians contended with each other;” and “The
English, the Dutch, and the Spaniards disputed, one with
another, the sovereignty of the sea.” Here each and one
clearly refer to a plurality, expressed by a noun plural. A
similar example occurs in the following sentence: “As the
greatest part of mankind are more affected by things, which
strike the senses, than by excellences, that are discovered by
reason and thought, they form very erroneous judgments,
when they compare one with the other.”—Guardian. If we
inquire, what one? we find the answer to be “things.” Here
is a manifest incongruity, which might have been prevented,
by saying, “one subject with the other,” or “when they compare
them together.” As this construction of one, referring
to a noun plural, seems irreconcilable with the notion of
unity, and may be avoided, it becomes a question, whether
this phraseology ought to be imitated. The subject, as far as I
know, has not been considered by any of our grammarians.
“That this was the cause of the disaster, was apparent to
all.” Apparent is sometimes used in this sense. The word,
however, is equivocal, as it denotes seeming, opposed to real;
and obvious, opposed to doubtful or obscure. “I consider
the difference between him and the two authors above mentioned,
as more apparent than real.”—Campbell. Here apparent
is opposed to real; and to this sense it would be
right to confine it, as thus all ambiguity would be effectually
prevented. “But there soon appeared very apparent reasons
for James’s partiality.”—Goldsmith. Obvious, or evident,
would unquestionably be preferable.
“How seldom, then, does it happen, that the mind does
not find itself in similar circumstances? Very rare indeed.”—Trusler’s
Preface to Synon. The adjective rare is here
improperly used for the adverb. As the question, indeed, is
adverbially proposed, it is somewhat surprising that the author
should answer adjectively: it ought to be, “very rarely.”
“No man had ever less friends, and more enemies.” Less
refers to quantity, fewer to number; it should be, “fewer
friends.”
“The mind may insensibly fall off from this relish of virtuous
actions, and by degrees exchange that pleasure, which
it takes in the performance of its duty, for delights of a much
more inferior and unprofitable nature.”—Addison. Inferior
implies comparison, but it is grammatically a positive. When
one thing is, in any respect, lower than another, we say, “it
is inferior to it;” and if a third thing were still lower, we
should say, “it is still more inferior.” But the author is
comparing only two subjects; he should therefore have said,
“of a much inferior, and more unprofitable nature.” The
expression “more preferable” is for the same reason faulty,
unless when two degrees of excess are implied.
The adjectives agreeable, suitable, conformable, independent,
consistent, relative, previous, antecedent, and many
others, are often used, where their several derivative adverbs
would be more properly employed; as, “he lives agreeable
to nature,” “he wrote to me previous to his coming to town,”
“tolerable good,” “he acted conformable to his promise.”
It is worthy of remark, however, that the idiom of our language
is not repugnant to some of these phraseologies; a
circumstance which many of our grammarians have overlooked,
if we may judge from the severity with which they
have condemned them. If I say, “he acted according to
nature,” the expression is deemed unobjectionable: but is
not according a participle, or, perhaps, here more properly a
participial? “He acted contrary to nature” is also considered
as faultless; but is not contrary an adjective? Were
we to reason on abstract principles, or to adopt what is
deemed the preferable phraseology, we should say, “contrarily”
and “accordingly to nature.” This, however, is not
the case. “Contrary to nature,” “according to nature,” and
many similar phraseologies, are admitted as good: why, then,
is “conformable to nature,” an expression perfectly analogous,
so severely condemned? Johnson has, indeed, uselessly
enough, in my opinion, called according a preposition; fearful,
however, of error, he adds, it is properly a participle, for
it is followed by to. According is always a participle, as
much as agreeing, and can be nothing else. Because secundum
in Latin is termed a preposition, hence some have
referred according to the same species of words. With equal
propriety might in the power of be deemed a preposition, because
penes in Latin is so denominated. Now, if “he acted
contrary to nature” and “according to nature” be deemed
unexceptionable expressions, with many others of the same
kind, which might be adduced, it follows that, “he acted
agreeable,” “conformable,” “suitable to nature,” may plead
in their favour these analogous phraseologies. I offer these
observations, in order to show that, misled by abstract reasonings,
or by the servile imitation of another language, we
sometimes hastily condemn, as altogether inadmissible, modes
of expression, which are not repugnant to our vernacular
idiom. I would not, however, be understood to mean, that
the adverb is not, in these cases, much to be preferred, when
it can be employed consistently with good usage. For, if
we say, “he acts agreeable to the laws of reason,” the question
is, who or what is agreeable? the answer, according to
the strict construction of the sentence, is he; but it is not he,
but his mode of acting, of which the accordance is predicated;
agreeably is, therefore, the preferable term.
I observe also, that, wherever the adjective is employed to
modify the meaning of another adjective, it becomes particularly
exceptionable, and can scarcely, indeed, plead aught in
its favour, as, “indifferent good,” “tolerable strong,” instead
of “indifferently good,” and “tolerably strong.” The following
phraseology is extremely inelegant, and is scarcely
admissible on any principle of analogy: “Immediately consequent
to the victory, Drogheda was invested.”—Belsham’s
History. What was consequent? Grammatically “Drogheda.”
“No other person, besides my brother, visited me to-day.”
Here the speaker means to say that no person, besides his
brother, visited him to-day; but his expression implies two
exceptions from none, the terms other and besides each implying
one, and can, therefore, be correct on this supposition
only, that some one besides his brother had visited him. It
should be rather, “no person besides.”
“The old man had, some fifty years ago, been no mean
performer on the vielle.”—Sterne. This phraseology appears
to me very objectionable; and can be proper in no case, except
when the date of the period is to be expressed as uncertain.
The word some should be cancelled. We may say, “I
was absent some days,” because the period is indefinite; but
to say, “I was absent some five days,” either involves an
incongruity, representing a period as at once definite and
indefinite; or denotes “some five days or other,” a meaning
which the expression is rarely intended to signify.
“Brutus and Aruns killed one another.” It should be,
“each other:” “one another” is applied to more than two.
“The one the other” would be correct, though inelegant.
“It argued the most extreme vanity.”—Hume. Extreme
is derived from a Latin superlative, and denotes “the
farthest,” or “greatest possible:” it cannot, therefore, be
compared.
“Of all vices pride is the most universal.” Universal is
here improperly used for general. The meaning of the latter
admits intension and remission, and may, therefore, be compared.
The former is an adjective, whose signification cannot
be heightened or lessened; it therefore rejects all intensive
and diminutive words, as, so, more, less, least, most.
The expression should be, “Of all vices pride is the most
general.”
“Tho’ learn’d, well-bred; and tho’ well-bred, sincere:
Modestly bold, and humanly severe.”—Pope.
Human and humane, as Dr. Campbell observes, are sometimes
confounded. The former properly means “belonging
to man;” the latter, “kind and compassionate:” humanly,
therefore, is improperly, in the couplet now quoted, used for
humanely.
BARBARISM.
Pronouns are so few in number, and so simple, that this
species of error, in respect to them, can scarcely occur. To
this class, however, may perhaps be reduced such as, his’n,
her’n, our’n, your’n, their’n, for his own, her own, our own,
&c., or for his one, her one, &c.
SOLECISM.
“Who calls?” “’T is me.” This is a violation of that rule,
by which the verb to be has the same case after it that it has
before it. It should be, “It is I.”
“You were the quarrel,” says Petulant in “The Way of
the World.” Millamant answers, “Me!” For the reason
just given it should be “I.”
“Spare thou them, O God, which confess their faults.”
As the relative refers to persons, it should be who.
“Nor is mankind so much to blame, in his choice thus determining
him.”—Swift. Mankind is a collective noun, and
is uniformly considered as plural; his, therefore, is a gross
solecism.
“By this institution, each legion, to whom a certain portion
of auxiliaries was allotted, contained within itself every
species of lighter troops, and of missile weapons.”—Gibbon.
It ought to be, to which—the pronoun itself, which follows,
referring to a noun of the neuter gender. To whom and
itself cannot each agree with one common antecedent.
“The seeming importance given to every part of female
dress, each of which is committed to the care of a different
sylph.”—Essay on the Writings of Pope. This sentence is
ungrammatical. Each implying “one of two,” or “every
one singly of more than two,” requires the correlative to be
considered as plural; yet the antecedent part, to which it
refers, is singular. It should be “all parts of female dress.”
“To be sold, the stock of Mr. Smith, left off business.”
This is an ungrammatical and very offensive vulgarism. The
verb left off, as Baker observes, has no subject, to which it
can grammatically belong. It should be, “who has left off,”
or “leaving off business” “A. B. lieutenant, vice C. D. resigned.”
Here is a similar error. Is C. D. resigned? or is
it the office which has been resigned? An excessive love
of brevity gives occasion to such solecisms.
“He was ignorant, the profane historian, of the testimony
which he is compelled to give.”—Gibbon’s Decline of the
Roman Empire.
“The youth and inexperience of the prince, he was only
fifteen years of age, declined a perilous encounter.”—Ib.
In the former sentence the historian appears neither as the
nominative, nor the regimen to any verb. If it be intended
to agree with he by apposition, it should have immediately
followed the pronoun. If it be designed emphatically, and
ironically, to mark the character of the historian, it should
have been thrown into the form of a parenthetic exclamation.
In the latter sentence a phraseology occurs, which, notwithstanding
its frequency in Gibbon, is extremely awkward and
inelegant. The fault may be corrected either by throwing
the age of the prince into a parenthesis, or, preferably, by the
substitution of who for he.
“Fare thee well” is a phraseology which, though sanctioned
by the authority of a celebrated poet, and also by
other writers, involves a solecism. The verb is intransitive,
and its imperative is fare thou. No one would say, “I fare
me well,” “we fare us well.”
“That faction in England, who most powerfully opposed
his arbitrary pretensions.”—Mrs. Macaulay. It ought rather
to be, “that faction in England, which.” It is justly observed
by Priestley, “that a term, which only implies the idea of
persons, and expresses them by some circumstance or epithet,
will hardly authorize the use of who.”
“He was certainly one of the most acute metaphysicians,
one of the deepest philosophers, and one of the best critics,
and most learned divines, which modern times have produced.”—Keith
on the Life and Writings of Campbell.
“Moses was the mildest of all men, which were then on
the face of the earth.”—Geddes.
“Lord Sidney was one of the wisest and most active
governors, whom Ireland had enjoyed for several years.”—Hume.
In the two first of these passages, which is improperly applied
to persons; in the last, the author has avoided this impropriety,
and used whom. The pronoun that, however, is
much preferable to who, or which, after a superlative.
“Such of the Morescoes might remain, who demeaned
themselves as Christians.”—Watson’s Life of Philip III.
Such is here improperly followed by who instead of as. The
correlative terms are those who, and such as.
“It is hard to be conceived, that a set of men could ever
be chosen by their contemporaries, to have divine honours
paid to them, while numerous persons were alive, who knew
their imperfections, and who themselves, or their immediate
ancestors, might have as fair a pretence, and come in competition
with them.”—Prideaux’s Connexion. The identity
of subject, in the relative clauses of this sentence, requires
the repetition of the same pronoun. It should be, “who
themselves, or whose immediate ancestors.”
“If you were here, you would find three or four in the
parlour, after dinner, whom you would say past their afternoons
very agreeably.”—Swift. The pronoun whom should
not be under the government of the verb would say, having
no connection with it; but should be a nominative to the
verb passed; thus, “who, you would say, passed their afternoons.”
“By these means, that religious princess became acquainted
with Athenias, whom she found was the most accomplished
woman of her age.” Whom, for the reason
already assigned, should be who, being the nominative to the
verb was. If it were intended to be a regimen to the verb
found, the sentence should proceed thus, “whom she found
to be.”
“Solomon was the wisest man, him only excepted, who
was much greater and wiser than Solomon.” In English the
absolute case is the nominative; it should, therefore, be,
“he only excepted.”
“Who, instead of being useful members of society, they
are pests to mankind.” Here the verb are has two nominatives,
who and they, each representing the same subjects
of discourse. One of them is redundant; and by the use of
both, the expression becomes solecistical, there being no verb
to which the relative who can be a nominative.
“My banks, they are furnish’d with bees,”
is faulty for the same reason, though here, perhaps, the poetic
licence may be pleaded in excuse.
“It is against the laws of the realm, which, as they are
preserved and maintained by your majesty’s authority, so we
assure ourselves, you will not suffer them to be violated.”
Which is neither a regimen nor a nominative to any verb;
the sentence, therefore, is ungrammatical—Them is redundant.
“Whom do men say that I am?” The relative is here in
the objective case, though there be no word in the sentence
by which it can be governed. In such inverted sentences, it
is a good rule for those who are not well acquainted with
the language to arrange the words in the natural order, beginning
with the nominative and the verbs, thus, “men say,
that I am who,” a sentence precisely analogous to “men say,
that I am he,” the verb requiring the same case after it, as
before it. Hence it is obvious, that it should be, “Who do
men say that I am?”
“Who do you speak to?” It ought to be whom, the
relative being under the government of the preposition, thus,
“To whom do you speak?”
“Who she knew to be dead.”—Henry’s Hist. of Britain.
Here also the relative should be in the objective case, under
the government of the verb, thus, “whom she knew,” or
“she knew whom to be dead.”
“Than whom, Satan except, none higher sat.”—Milton.
“The king of dykes, than whom no sluice of mud,
With deeper sable blots the silver flood.”—Pope.
This phraseology I have already examined. In answer to
Mr. Baker’s reason for condemning the phrase “than whom,”
Story’s observations betray, as I conceive, extreme ignorance,
and require correction. “The English,” says he, “is strictly
good; for the relative whom is not in the same case with
sluice, (which is the nominative to the verb blots,) but referring
to its antecedent, the king of dykes, is very properly
in the objective case, even though the personal pronoun he,
if substituted in its place, would be in the nominative.”
If Mr. Story conceives that the relative must agree with
its antecedent in case, he labours under an egregious mistake.
Every page of English evinces the contrary. Yet, such
must be his opinion, or his argument means nothing; for the
only reason, which he offers for whom, is, that its antecedent
is in the objective case. Besides, if than whom be admissible,
nay proper, he will have difficulty in assigning a good
reason, why it should not be also than him. But Mr. Story
should have known, that, when two nouns are coupled by a
conjunction, the latter term is not governed by the conjunction,
but is either the nominative to the verb, or is
governed by it, or by the preposition understood. The
sentence proceeds thus, “no sluice of mud blots with deeper
sable, than he or who blots.”
“It is no wonder if such a man did not shine at the court
of Queen Elizabeth, who was but another name for prudence
and economy.”—Hume. The word Elizabeth, as represented
in the latter clause, is here a mere word, nuda vox, and
not the sign of a person; for it is said to be another name
for prudence and economy. Not the person, but the word, is
said to be significant of this quality. The pronoun, therefore,
should be which, not who. The sentence, however,
even thus corrected, would be inelegant. Better thus,
“Queen Elizabeth, whose name was but another word for
prudence and economy.”
“Be not diverted from thy duty by any idle reflections the
silly world may make upon you.” Consistency requires
either “your duty,” or “upon thee.” Thy and your, a singular
and a plural pronoun, each addressed to the same individual,
are incongruous.
A similar error occurs in the following passage: “I pray
you, tarry all night, lodge here, that thy heart may be merry.”—Bible.
“It is more good to fall among crows than flatterers, for
these only devour the dead, those the living.” The pronoun
this always refers to the nearer object, that to the more remote.
This distinction is here reversed. It should be,
“those (crows) devour the dead; these (flatterers) the living.”
I observe also, in passing, that those adjectives, whose mode
of comparison is irregular, are not compared by more and
most. It ought to be, “it is better.”
“It is surprising, that this people, so happy in invention,
have never penetrated beyond the elements of geometry.”
It should be has, this people being in the singular number.
We may say, “people have,” the noun being collective, but
not “this people have.”
“I and you love reading.” This is a Latinism, and not
accordant with our mode of arrangement. Wolsey was right,
when he said, “Ego, et rex meus;” but in English we reverse
the order. It should be, “you and I.” We say also,
“he and I,” “they and I.” You always precedes.
“Each of the sexes should keep within its proper bounds,
and content themselves with the advantages of their particular
districts.”—Addison. Here the pronoun does not
agree with the word to which it refers, the word each being
singular; whereas themselves and their are plural. It should
be, itself and its.
A similar error occurs in the following sentence: “Some of
our principal public schools have each a grammar of their
own.”—Barrow on Education. It ought to be, “each a
grammar of its own.” The expression is elliptical, for
“schools have each (has) a grammar of its own.” Thus we
say, “Simeon and Levi took each man his sword,” not their
swords.—Gen. xxxiv. 25.
“Let each esteem other better than themselves.”—Bible.
For the reason just given, it ought to be himself.
“So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you,
if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their
trespasses.”—Bible. Here is a manifest solecism, the pronoun
their referring to “his brother,” a singular subject.
“I wonder that such a valiant hero as you should trifle
away your time in making war upon women.”—Essay on the
Writings of Pope. Here the pronoun disagrees in person
with the noun to which it refers, hero being of the third
person, and your of the second. The connexion is, “I
wonder that such a valiant hero should trifle away his
time.”
“The venison, which I received yesterday, and was a
present from a friend,” &c. Which is here in the objective
case, and cannot properly be understood as the nominative
to the verb was: better, therefore, “and which was a
present.” The following sentence is still more faulty: “It
was happy for them, that the storm, in which they were, and
was so very severe, lasted but a short time.” This is ungrammatical,
the verb “was” having no nominative. It
should be, “which was.”
“There is not a sovereign state in Europe, but keeps a
body of regular troops in their pay.” This expression, to say
the least of it, is inelegant and awkward. Better, “its pay.”
“Is any nation sensible of the lowness of their own manners?”—Kames. Nation
is here improperly construed as both singular
and plural. It should be rather “its own.”
“The treaty he concluded can only be considered as a temporary
submission, and of which he took no care to secure
the continuance of it.”—Dryden. The redundancy of the
words of it, renders the sentence somewhat ungrammatical.
It should run thus, “The treaty he concluded can only be
considered as a temporary submission, of which he took no
care to secure the continuance.”
An improper reference occurs in the following sentence:
“Unless one be very cautious, he will be liable to be deceived.”
One here answers to the indefinite word on in
French, and cannot be represented by any pronoun. It must,
therefore, be repeated, thus, “Unless one be very cautious,
one will be liable to be deceived.”
IMPROPRIETY.
“Give me them books.” Here the substantive pronoun is
used adjectively, instead of the demonstrative those or these.
The substantive pronouns, which are, strictly speaking, the
only pronouns, cannot be construed as adjectives agreeing with
substantives. We cannot say, “it book,” “they books,” “them
books:” but “this” or “that book,” “these” or “those books.”
The former phraseology may be deemed solecistical.
“Great numbers were killed on either side.”—Watson’s
Philip III. “The Nile flows down the country above five
hundred miles from the tropic of Cancer, and marks on either
side the extent of fertility by the measure of its inundation.”—Gibbon.
It has been already observed, that the Saxon word ægther
signifies each, as Gen. vii. 2. “Clean animals thou shalt take
by sevens of each kind,” ægthres gecyndes. The English word
either is sometimes used in the same sense. But as this is
the only word in our language, by which we can express
“one of two,” “which of the two you please,” and as it is
generally employed in that sense, perspicuity requires that it
be strictly confined to this signification. For, if either be
used equivocally, it must, in many cases, be utterly impossible
for human ingenuity to ascertain, whether only “one of two,”
or “both,” be intended. In such expressions, for example,
as “take either side,” “the general ordered his troops to
march on either bank,” how is the reader or hearer to divine,
whether both sides, both banks, or only one, be signified?
By employing each to express “both,” taken individually, and
either to denote “one of the two,” all ambiguity is removed.
“The Bishop of Clogher intends to call on you this morning,
as well as your humble servant, in my return from Chapel
Izzard.”—Addison to Swift. After the writer has spoken of
himself in the third person, there is an impropriety in employing
the pronoun of the first. Much better “in his return.”
“The ends of a divine and human legislator are vastly different.”—Warburton.
From this sentence it would seem,
that there is only one subject of discourse, the ends belonging
to one individual, a divine and human legislator. The
author intended to express two different subjects, namely,
“the objects of a divine,” and “the objects of a human legislator.”
The demonstrative those is omitted. It should be,
“the ends of a divine, and those of a human legislator, are
vastly different.” This error consists in defect, or an improper
ellipsis of the pronoun: in the following sentence the
error is redundancy. “They both met on a trial of skill.”
Both means “they two,” as ambo in Latin is equivalent
to “
οἱ δύο”
It should therefore be, “both met on a trial of skill.”
“These two men (A and B) are both equal in strength.”
This, says Baker, is nonsense; for these words signify only,
that A is equal in strength, and B equal in strength, without
implying to whom; so that the word equal has nothing to
which it refers. “A and B,” says he, “are equal in strength,”
is sense; this means, that they are equal to each other. “A
and B are both equal in strength to C,” is likewise sense. It
signifies, that A is equal to C, and that B likewise is equal
to C. Thus Mr. Baker. Now, it appears to me, that, when
he admits the expression, “are both equal,” as significant of
the equality of each, he admits a phraseology which does not
strictly convey that idea. For if we say, “A and B are both
equal,” it seems to me to imply, that the two individuals are
possessed of two attributes or qualities, one of which is here
expressed; and in this sense only, as I conceive, is this
phraseology correct. Thus we may say, with strict propriety,
“A and B are both equal in strength, and superior in
judgment to their contemporaries.” Or it may denote, that
“they two together, namely, A and B, are equal to C singly.”
In the former case, both is necessarily followed by and, which
is in Latin rendered by et. Thus, “A and B are the two things,
(both) equal in strength, and (add) superior in judgment to
their contemporaries.” In the latter case, it is equivalent to
ambo, expressing two collectively, as, “they two together are
equal to C, but not separately.” I am aware, that the word
both in English, like ambo in Latin, is an ambiguous term, denoting
either “the two collectively,” or “the two separately,”
and that many examples of the latter usage may be adduced.
But that surely cannot be deemed a correct or appropriate
term, which, in its strict signification, conveys an idea
different from that intended by the speaker; or which leaves
the sentiment in obscurity, and the reader in doubt. The word
each, substituted for both, renders the expression clear and
precise, thus, “A and B are each equal to C, in strength.”[144]
An error the reverse of this occurs in the following sentence:
“This proves, that the date of each letter must have
been nearly coincident.” Coincident with what? Not surely
with itself; nor can the date of each letter be coincident with
each other. It should be, “that the dates of both letters
must have been nearly coincident with each other.”
“It’s great cruelty to torture a poor dumb animal.” Better,
’Tis, in order to distinguish the contraction from the genitive
singular of the pronoun it.
“Neither Lady Haversham, nor Miss Mildmay, will ever
believe but what I have been entirely to blame.” The pronoun
what, equivalent to that which, is here improperly used
for that. This mode of expression still obtains among the
lower orders of the people, and is not confined to them in the
northern parts of the island. It should be, “that I have been.”
The converse of this error occurs in the following passages:
“That all our doings may be ordered by thy governance,
to do always that is righteous in thy sight.”—Book of Common
Prayer.
“For, if there be first a willing mind, it is accepted, according
to that a man hath.”—Bible.
The pronouns it and that were formerly used as including
the relative. “This submission is it implieth them all.”
“This is it men mean by distributive justice.”—Hobbes. “To
consider advisedly of that is moved.”—Bacon. This usage is
now obsolete. The clauses should therefore proceed thus,
“to do always what,” or “that, which is righteous.” “According
to what,” or “that, which a man hath.”
BARBARISM.
“Thus did the French ambassadors, with great show of
their king’s affection, and many sugared words, seek to addulce
all matters between the two kings.”—Bacon. The
verb “to addulce” is obsolete.
“Do villany, do; since you profess to
Like workmen, I’ll example you with thievery.”
Shakspeare.
The verb “to example,” as equivalent to the phrase “to
set an example,” is obsolete; and when used for “to exemplify,”
may be deemed obsolescent. “The proof whereof,”
says Spencer in his State of Ireland, “I saw sufficiently
exampled;” better “exemplified.”
“I called at noon at Mrs. Masham’s, who desired me not
to let the prophecy be published, for fear of angering the
queen.”—Swift. The verb “to anger” is almost obsolete.
In Scotland, and in the northern part of England, it is still
colloquially used; but in written language, of respectable
authority, it now rarely occurs. I have met with it once or
twice in Swift or Pope; since their time it appears to have
been gradually falling into disuse.
“Shall we once more go to fight against our brethren, or
shall we surcease?”—Geddes’s Transl. The verb to “surcease”
is obsolete.
“And they and he, upon this incorporation and institution,
and onyng of themself into a realme, ordaynyd,” &c.—Fortescue.
Here we have the participle of the verb “to one,”
now obsolete, for “to unite.”
“For it is no power to may alien, and put away; but it
is a power to may have, and kepe to himself. So it is no
power to may syne, and to do ill, or to may be syke, or wex
old, or that a man may hurt himself; for all thees powers
comyne of impotencye.”—Ib. It has been already observed,
that the verb may is derived from the Saxon mægan, posse.—See
p. 97. From the passage before us it appears, that in
the time of Fortescue (anno 1440) the infinitive “to may,”
for “to be able,” was in use. It has now been long obsolete.
In the following passage, it forms what is called a compound
tense with the word shall, the sign of the infinitive being
suppressed. “Wherthorough the parlements schall may do
more good in a moneth.”—Ib. That is, “shall be able to do.”
“Wherefor al, that he dothe owith to be referryed to his
kingdom.”—Ib. The verb to owe, as expressive of duty, is
now obsolete. It has been supplanted by ought, formerly its
preterite tense, and now used as a present. We should now
say, “ought to be referred.”
“Both these articles were unquestionably true, and could
easily have been proven.”—Henry’s History of Britain.
“Admitting the charges against the delinquents to be fully
proven.”—Belsham’s History. Proven is now obsolete, having
given place to the regular participle. It is still, however,
used in Scotland, and is therefore deemed a Scotticism.
“Methoughts I returned to the great hall, where I had
been the morning before.” Methoughts is barbarous, and
also violates analogy, the third person being thought, and
not thoughts.
SOLECISM.
“You was busy, when I called.” Here a pronoun plural
is joined with a verb in the singular number. It should be,
“you were.”
“The keeping good company, even the best, is but a less
shameful art of losing time. What we here call science and
study are little better.” What is equivalent to that which.
It should be is, and not are; thus, “that, which we call ...
is little better.”
“Three times three is nine,” and “three times three are
nine,” are modes of expression in common use; and it has
become a question, which is the more correct. The Romans
admitted both phraseologies. “Quinquies et vicies duceni
quadrageni singuli fiunt sex millia et viginti quinque.”—Colum.
Here the distributive numerals are the nominatives
to the verb. “Ubi est septies millies sestertium.”—Cic.
Here the adverbial numerals make the nominative, and the
verb is singular. Plurality being evidently implied, the
plural verb seems more consonant with our natural conception
of numbers, as well as with the idiom of our language.
“This is one of those highwaymen, that was condemned
last sessions.” According to the grammatical construction
of this sentence, “one of those highwaymen” is the predicate;
for the syntactical arrangement is, “This (highwayman),
that was condemned last sessions, is one of those
highwaymen.” But this is not the meaning which this sentence
is in general intended to convey: for it is usually
employed to denote, that several highwaymen were condemned,
and that this is one of them. The sentence, therefore,
thus understood, is ungrammatical; for the antecedent is, in
this case, not one, but highwaymen. The relative, therefore,
being plural, should be joined with a plural verb, thus, “This
is one of those highwaymen, that were condemned last
sessions.”
“I had went to Lisbon, before you knew that I had
arrived in England.” This is an egregious solecism, the
auxiliary verb had, which requires the perfect participle,
being here joined with the preterite tense. It should be, “I
had gone.”
“He would not fall the trees this season.” The verb “to
fall” is intransitive, and cannot therefore be followed by an
objective case, denoting a thing acted upon. It should be,
“he would not fell.”
“Let him know, that I shall be over in spring, and that
by all means he sells the horses.”—Swift. Here we have in
the latter clause a thing expressed as done or doing, for a
thing commanded. It should be, “that he should sell;” or
elliptically, “that he sell.”
“It is very probable that neither of these are the meaning
of the text.” Neither, means, “not the one, nor the other,”
denoting the exclusion of each of two things. It should,
therefore, be, “neither is the meaning of the text.”
“He was a man, whose vices were very great, and had the
art to conceal them from the eyes of the public.” According
to the grammatical construction of this sentence, vices understood
is the nominative to the verb had; thus, “whose
vices were very great, and whose vices had the art to conceal
them.” It should be, “and who had the art to conceal them.”
“At the foot of this hill was soon built such a number of
houses, that amounted to a considerable city.” Here the
verb amounted has no nominative. To render the sentence
grammatical, it should be, “that they amounted,” or “as
amounted to a considerable city.”
“It requires more logic than you possess, to make a man
to believe that prodigality is not a vice.” After the verb “to
make,” the sign of the infinitive should be omitted. See
Rule xv. note 3.
“He dare not,” “he need not,” may be justly pronounced
solecisms, for “he dares,” “he needs.”
“How do your pulse beat?” Pulse is a noun singular,
and is here ungrammatically joined with a verb plural. It
should be, “how does your pulse beat?”
“The river had overflown its banks.” Overflown is the
participle of the verb to fly, compounded with over. It
should be “overflowed,” the participle of “overflow.”
“They that sin rebuke before all.” The pronoun, which
should be the regimen of the verb rebuke, is here put in the
nominative case. It should, therefore, be them. The natural
order is, “rebuke them, that sin.”
“There are principles innate in man, which ever have, and
ever will incline him to this offence.” If the ellipsis be supplied,
the sentence will be found to be ungrammatical; thus
“which ever have incline, and ever will incline.” It should
be, “which ever have inclined, and ever will incline.”
“Nor is it easy to conceive that in substituting the manners
of Persia to those of Rome, he was actuated by vanity.”—Gibbon.
“Substitute to,” is a Latinism. It should be,
“substitute for.”
“I had rather live in forty Irelands, than under the frequent
disquiets of hearing, that you are out of order.”—Swift’s
Letters. “You had better return home without delay.”
In both these examples would is far preferable, thus,
“I would rather live,” “you would better return,” or “you
would do better to return.”
“That he had much rather be no king at all, than have
heretics for his subjects.”—Watson’s Philip III. Here is
involved the same error. It should be, “he would.”
“The nobility of England consisted only of one duke, four
earls, one viscount, and twenty-nine barons, all the nobles of
the Lancastrian party having been either killed in battles, or
on scaffolds, or had fled into foreign parts.”—Henry’s
History. This sentence is ungrammatical. The word nobles
joined to the participle having must be regarded as put absolutely,
and therefore to the verb had there is strictly no nominative.
But, even were a nominative introduced, the structure
of the sentence would be still highly objectionable, the
two last clauses, “having been killed,” and “they had fled,”
being utterly discordant one with the other. The primary
idea to be expressed is the fewness of the nobility; this forms
the subject of the principal clause. There are two reasons
to be assigned for this fewness, their destruction and their
flight; these form the subjects of the two subordinate clauses.
Between these two, therefore, there should be the strictest
congruity; and in this respect the sentence is faulty. It
ought to proceed either thus, “The nobility of England consisted
only of one duke, four earls, one viscount, and twenty-nine
barons; for all the nobles of the Lancastrian party had
either been killed in battles, or on scaffolds, or had fled into
foreign parts;” or thus, “all the nobles having been killed,
or having fled.” The latter is the preferable form.
“He neglected to profit of this occurrence.” This phraseology
occurs frequently in Hume. “To profit of,” is a Gallicism;
it ought to be, “to profit by this occurrence.”
“The people of England may congratulate to themselves,
that the nature of our government and the clemency of our
king, secure us.”—Dryden. “Congratulate to,” is a Latinism.
The person congratulated should be in the objective
case governed by the verb; the subject is preceded by the
preposition on, as, “I congratulate you on your arrival.”
“You will arrive to London before the coach.”
“A priest newly arrived to the north-west parts of Ireland.”—Swift’s
Sacr. Test.
In these examples the verb “to arrive,” is followed by to,
instead of at, an error which should be carefully avoided.
Good writers never construe it with the preposition significant
of motion or progression concluded, but with those prepositions
which denote propinquity or inclusion, namely, at
or in. Hence also to join this verb with adverbs, expressive
of motion to, or towards a place, is improper. We should
say, “he arrived here, there, where,” not—“hither, thither,
whither.”
“Elizabeth was not unconcerned; she remonstrated to
James.”—Andrew’s Continuation of Henry’s History. This
is incorrect. We remonstrate with and not to a person, and
against a thing.
“I am the Lord that maketh all things, that stretcheth
forth the heavens alone, that spreadeth the earth abroad by
myself.” According to the structure of the second and third
clauses of this sentence, the Lord is the antecedent to that,
which is, therefore, properly joined with the third person of
the verbs following, “maketh,” “spreadeth;” but the pronoun
of the first person, myself, in the last clause, does not
accord with this structure; for as we cannot say, “he spreadeth
the earth by myself,” there being only one agent implied, and
where he and myself are supposed to allude to one person,
so we cannot say, “that (Lord) spreadeth the earth by myself,”
but “by himself,” an identity of person being indispensably
requisite. The sentence, therefore, should conclude
thus, “that spreadeth abroad the earth by himself.” If myself
be retained, the pronoun I must be considered as the
antecedent, and the sentence will then run thus: “I am the
Lord, that make all things, that stretch forth the heavens
alone, that spread abroad the earth by myself.”
“Thou great First Cause, least understood,
Who all my sense confin’d
To know but this, that thou art good,
And that myself am blind.”—Pope.
The antecedent to the pronoun who is the pronoun of the
second person singular. The relative, therefore, being of the
same person, should be joined to the second person singular
of the verb, namely, “confinedst.”
“The executive directory, to prove that they will not reject
any means of reconciliation, declares,” &c.—Belsham’s
Hist. The nominative is here joined to a verb singular, and
at the same time represented by a pronoun plural. The error
may be corrected either by the substitution of it for they, or
declare instead of declares.
“These friendly admonitions of Swift, though they might
sometimes produce good effects, in particular cases, when
properly timed, yet could they do but little towards eradicating
faults.”—Sheridan. The nominative admonitions is connected
with no verb, the pronoun they being the nominative
to the verb could. The sentence, therefore, is ungrammatical;
nor can the figure hyperbaton be here pleaded in excuse,
as the simplicity and shortness of the sentence render it unnecessary.
They in the third clause should be suppressed.
“This dedication may serve for almost any book, that has,
is, or shall be published.”—Bolingbroke. Has being merely
a part of a compound tense, conveys no precise meaning
without the rest of the tense. When joined, then, to the participle,
here belonging to the three auxiliaries, the sentence
proceeds thus, “This dedication may serve for almost any
book, that has published.” It ought to be “has been, is,
or shall be published.” The following sentence is chargeable
with an error of the same kind.
“This part of knowledge has been always growing, and will
do so, till the subject be exhausted.” Do what? The auxiliary
cannot refer to been, for the substantive verb, or verb
of existence, does not imply action, nor can we say, “do
growing.” It ought to be, “has been growing, and will still
be so.”
“All that can be now urged, is the reason of the thing, and
this I shall do.”—Warburton. Here is a similar incongruity.
He should have said, “and this shall be done.”
Some of the preceding errors, with those which follow
under this head, may be denominated rather inaccuracies,
than solecisms.
“’T was twenty years and more, that I have known him,”
says Pope to Gay, speaking of Congreve’s death. It ought
to be, “It is twenty years and more,” the period concluding
with the present time, or the time then present. He
might have said, “It is now twenty years,” where the adverb
now, being obviously admissible, points to present time, and
necessarily excludes the preterite tense. Pope says, “’T was
twenty years.” When? not surely in some part of the past
time, but at the time of writing.
“It were well for the insurgents, and fortunate for the king,
if the blood, that was now shed, had been thought a sufficient
expiation for the offence.”—Goldsmith. “It were,”
which is equivalent to “it would be,” is evidently incongruous
with the following tense, “had been thought.” It
ought to be, as he was speaking of past time, “it would have
been,” or, “it had been, well for the insurgents.”
“Was man like his Creator in wisdom and goodness, I
should be for allowing this great model.”—Addison. This
form of expression cannot be pronounced entirely repugnant
to analogy, the preterite of the auxiliary “to have” being
used in a similar sense. But the verb “to be” having a
mood appropriate to the expression of conditionality, the
author should have said, “Were man like his Creator.”
“If you please to employ your thoughts on that subject,
you would easily conceive the miserable condition many of
us are in.”—Steele. Here there is obviously an incongruity
of tense. It should be either, “if you please to employ, you
will conceive,” or “if it pleased you to employ, you would
conceive.”
“James used to compare him to a cat, who always fell
upon her legs.”—Adam’s Hist. of England. Here the latter
clause, which is intended to predicate an attribute of the species,
expresses simply a particular fact; in other words, what
is intended to be signified as equally true of all, is here limited
to one of the kind. It should be, “always falls upon her
legs.”
“This is the last time I shall ever go to London.” This
mode of expression, though very common, is certainly improper
after the person is gone, and can be proper only
before he sets out. The French speak correctly when they
say, “la dernière fois que je vais,” i.e. the last time of my
going. We ought to say, “this is the last time I shall be in
London.”
“He accordingly draws out his forces, and offers battle to
Hiero, who immediately accepted it.” Consistency requires,
that the last verb be in the same tense with the preceding
verbs. The actions are described as present; the language
is graphical, and that which has been properly enough denominated
the “historical tense” should not be employed.
It ought to be, “who immediately accepts it.”
“I have lost this game, though I thought I should have
won it.” It ought to be, “though I thought I should win
it.” This is an error of the same kind, as, “I expected to
have seen you,” “I intended to have written.” The preterite
time is expressed by the tenses “expected,” “intended;”
and, how far back soever that expectation or intention may
be referred, the seeing or writing must be considered as
contemporary, or as soon to follow; but cannot, without
absurdity, be considered as anterior. It should be, “I expected
to see,” “I intended to write.” Priestley, in defending
the other phraseology, appears to me to have greatly
erred, the expression implying a manifest impossibility. The
action, represented as the object of an expectation or intention,
and therefore, in respect to these, necessarily future,
cannot surely, without gross absurdity, be exhibited as past,
or antecedent to these. In the following passage the error
seems altogether indefensible. “The most uncultivated Asiatics
discover that sensibility, which, from their situation on
the globe, we should expect them to have felt.”—Robertson’s
History of America. The author expresses himself, as if he
referred to a past sensation, while the introductory verb
shows that he alludes to a general fact. The incongruity is
obvious. He should have said, “expect them to feel.”
“Fierce as he moved, his silver shafts resound.”—Pope.
Much better, “Fierce as he moves.” Congruity of tense is
thus preserved; and there is, besides, a peculiar beauty in
employing the present,—a beauty, of which the preterite is
wholly incapable. The former imparts vivacity to the expression;
it presents the action, with graphical effect, to the
mind of the reader; and thus, by rendering him a spectator
of the scene, impresses the imagination, and rouses the feelings
with greater energy. Compared to the latter, it is like
the pencil of the artist to the pen of the historian.
“Jesus answering said unto him, What wilt thou, that I
should do unto thee?” The blind man said unto him: “Lord,
that I might receive my sight.” It ought to be, “that I may
receive my sight,” I will being understood; thus, “I will,
that I may receive my sight,” where the present wish, and the
attainment of it, are properly represented as contemporary.
“These things have I spoken unto you, that your joy might
be full.” Better, “that your joy may be full.”
“If an atheist would peruse the volume of nature, he would
confess, that there was a God.” Universal, or abstract truths,
require the present tense; it should be, “that there is a God.”
“ ... impresses us with a feeling, as if refinement was nothing,
as if faculties were nothing, as if virtue was nothing,
as if all that was sweetest, and all that was highest in human
nature was an idle show.”—Godwin’s Life of Chaucer. This
sentence errs at once against elegance and accuracy. The
former offence may be partly corrected, by substituting the
conditional for the indicative tense, in the hypothetical
clauses. But the author’s principal error consists in converting
a general proposition into a particular fact, by representing
that as past which is always present and immutable.
The sentence should proceed thus: “Impresses us with a
feeling, as if refinement were nothing, as if faculties were
nothing, as if virtue were nothing, as if all that is sweetest,
and all that is highest in human nature, were an idle show.”
A similar error occurs in this passage: “He proceeded to
demonstrate, that death was not an evil;” and also in this,
“I have frequently been assured by great ministers, that
politics were nothing, but common sense.”
“Tom has wit enough to make him a pleasant companion,
was it polished by good manners.” As the latter clause is
intended to be purely hypothetical, the verb should not be
in the indicative mood. “Were it polished,” is the proper
expression.
“He understood the language of Balnibarbi, although it
were different from that of this island.”—Swift’s Voyage to
Laputa. From the phraseology here employed, the reader
might naturally infer, that the language of the island, and
that of Balnibarbi, were identical; for a concessive term, as
I have already said, when joined to what is called the conjunctive
form of the verb, implies pure hypothesis, as contrary
to fact; or, in other words, implies a negation of the
attribute expressed. The author’s intention was to signify,
that the languages were not the same. He should, therefore,
have said, “although it was different.”
“The circumstances were as follows.” Several grammarians
and critics have approved this phraseology; I am inclined,
however, to concur with those, who prefer “as follow.”
To justify the former mode of expression, the verb
must be considered as impersonal. This, I own, appears to
me a very questionable solution of the difficulty; for I am
convinced, that we have no impersonal verbs in English, but
such as are uniformly preceded by it. We frequently, indeed,
meet with sentences, where verbs occur without a nominative,
and in the singular number. These are, by some, considered
as impersonal verbs, to which the nominative it is understood.
I apprehend, however, that, on strict inquiry, some one or
other of the preceding words, which are now considered as
conjunctions, adverbs, or particles, was originally the nominative;
and that it is only since the primitive and real character
of these words has been obliterated and lost, that we
have found it necessary to inquire for another nominative.
Thus, if the word as be equivalent to it, that, or which[145], then
it is obvious, that, when we say, “the circumstances were
as follows,” there is no real ellipsis of the nominative involved,
nor, therefore, any ground for asserting the impersonality of
the verb, in order to explain the syntax, or construction of
the phrase; for the word as, equivalent to it, that, or which,
is the true nominative. It is evident, then, that this solution
of the difficulty must be rejected as false; and that the argument
in favour of “as follows,” resting on the supposed impersonality
of the verb, and the suppression of the pronoun,
is entirely unfounded.
If as then be the nominative to the verb, and be synonymous
with it, that, or which, it is of importance to determine, whether
as be a singular, or a plural word; or whether it be either
the one, or the other. That it is construed as singular, there
can be no doubt. We say, “his insensibility is such, as excites
our detestation.” That it is also joined to a verb plural
is equally certain, thus, “his manners are such, as are universally
pleasing.” In the former example, such as is equivalent
to that which, and in the latter to those which. If as,
then, be either singular or plural, and synonymous with it,
that, or which, I conceive that, when it refers to a plural antecedent,
it must, like which, be considered as plural, and
joined to a plural verb. Now, it is surely more consonant
with analogy to say, “the circumstances were, which follow,”
than it follows, or that follows. Besides, when the demonstrative
such precedes, and is joined to a plural noun, it is
universally admitted, that as must then be followed by a
plural verb. If so, the construction of the word as cannot, I
apprehend, be in the least degree affected by the ellipsis of
the correlative term. Let us now hear those who adopt the
contrary opinion.
Baker prefers the verb singular, and remarks “that there
are instances in our language of verbs in the third person
without a nominative case, as, ‘he censures her, so far as regards.’”
In answer to this it may be observed, that, if the
word as is to be considered in no other light, than as a conjunctive
particle, it is certainly true, that the verb regards
has no nominative. But I am persuaded, no person who has
examined the theory of Mr. Tooke can entertain a doubt respecting
the original and real character of this word. Nay,
if we investigate the true and primitive import of the correspondent
Latin terms ut and uti, we shall find, that these,
which are termed adverbs, are, in fact, the pronouns ὅτι, ὁτ’,
and that quod (anciently written quodde) is nothing else than
καὶ ὅττι, which, like our word that, is sometimes called a conjunction,
and sometimes a pronoun. Why the original character
and real import of the word as have been completely
merged in the name of adverb, while the word that has been
assigned the double character of pronoun and conjunction, it
would be easy to show, if the discussion were essential to the
question before us. But in answer to Baker’s remark, it is
sufficient to observe, that as means properly it, that, or which.
Campbell adopts the opinion of Baker. “When a verb,”
says he, “is used impersonally, it ought undoubtedly to be
in the singular number, whether the neuter pronoun be expressed
or understood.” But a question naturally arises,
whence has the author learned that the verb is impersonal?
There appears to me to be no more impersonality in the verb,
when we say, “it is as follows,” than when we say, “it is
such, as follows,” or, “they are such, as follow.” If as be
admitted as the nominative in two of these examples, I can
perceive no reason for rejecting it in the third. But here lies,
as will presently appear, the author’s great error. Unacquainted
with the true meaning of the word as, he conceived
it as incapable of becoming a nominative to a verb, as ut or
uti is deemed in Latin; and he therefore immediately recurs
to ellipsis.
“For this reason” (that is, because the verb is impersonal),
he proceeds to observe, “analogy as well as usage favour this
mode of expression, The conditions of the agreement were as
follows, and not as follow.”
How analogy favours this mode of expression, I am utterly
at a loss to conceive. The general rule surely is, that to
every verb there shall be a nominative, and that this nominative
shall be expressed, unless its presence in some preceding
clause shall render the repetition of it unnecessary. But how
is it consonant with analogy, that no nominative shall appear;
or that the supposed nominative shall not be found in any
part of the sentence? This surely is repugnant to analogy.
“A few late writers,” he observes, “have inconsiderately
adopted this last form (as follow) through a mistake of the
construction.” But, if the verb be not impersonal, the error
is his, not theirs. I must observe, likewise, that from the
manner in which the author expresses himself, one would
naturally infer, that a few writers, either contemporary, or
immediately preceding his own time, had inconsiderately introduced
a solecism into our language. When he offered
this observation, he surely was not aware that Steele and
Addison, nearly seventy years before the publication of
“The Philosophy of Rhetoric,” used the plural form. “The
most eminent of the kennel,” says Steele, “are blood-hounds,
which lead the van, and are as follow.”—Tatler, No. 62.
“The words were as follow.”—Ibid. No. 104. “The words
are as follow.”—Addison, Spectator, No. 513.
“For the same reason,” continues he, still presuming the
verb to be impersonal, “we ought to say, I shall consider
his censures so far only, as concerns my friend’s conduct, not
concern. It is manifest,” he observes, “that the word conditions
in the first case, and censures in the second, cannot
serve as nominatives.” This observation demonstrates that
the author’s argument is founded in his ignorance of the real
character of the word as. The most extraordinary part of
his reasoning follows. “But,” says he, “if we give either
sentence another turn, and instead of as, say such as, the verb
is no longer impersonal. The pronoun such is the nominative,
whose number is determined by its antecedent. Thus
we must say, they were such as follow; such of his censures
only as concern my friend.” This is truly an extraordinary
assertion. The antecedent correlative term such can have
no connexion whatever with the subsequent verb, but must
agree with the principal subject of discourse. Not only does
analogy require this, but the usage of every language with
which I am acquainted. If we say, Perseverantia fuit tanta,
quantus erat furor. Is est, quem dicimus. Talis est, qualem
esse creditis. Illæ erant conditiones, quæ sequuntur,—the
antecedent correlative terms tanta, is, talis, illæ,—have no
connexion whatever with the verbs in the subsequent clause,
erat, dicimus, creditis, sequuntur. The truth of this observation
must be sufficiently obvious to every classical
scholar.
But to illustrate the extreme inaccuracy of the learned
author’s opinion, let us change the correlative terms, and say,
“I will consider those censures only, which concern my
friend.” In this sentence it will not be questioned that those
and censures are in the objective case, under the government
of the verb. And can it be doubted, if we say, “I will consider
such censures,” that censures with its concordant adjective
are in the same case? It is impossible, I conceive,
to make this plainer; but we shall suppose, for the sake of
illustration, if this should yet be deemed necessary, the example
in question to be thus rendered in Latin, eas tantum
reprehensiones perpendam, quæ ad amicum meum attinent.
Now, what should we think of his classical attainments who
should contend that eas or reprehensiones is the nominative
to the verb? If we revert, then, to the original terms, and say,
“I will consider such of his censures as concern my friend,”
by what rule of grammar, by what principle of analysis, can
we suppose such to be the nominative to the verb? For let
me ask, what is he to consider? Is it not such censures?
And are we, contrary to every principle of English grammar,
to represent the object or subject after an active verb, as in
the nominative case? The absurdity is too monstrous for a
moment’s consideration. The very argument, therefore, by
which the author defends his doctrine is founded in error,
and involves an absurdity. Murray, as usual, adopts the
opinion of Campbell.
If it should be inquired how as, an adverb or a conjunctive
particle, can be the nominative to a verb, it may be answered,
that to whatever order of words we reduce this term, it was
evidently at first what we denominate a pronoun; and that
it still so far retains its primitive character as to supply the
place of a nominative. It is of little moment by what designation
it be called, if its character and real import are well
understood, any more than it can be of consequence whether
we call that a conjunction or a pronoun, provided we know,
that it is truly and essentially the same word in the same
meaning wherever it occurs. I would observe, also, though
my limits will not permit me to illustrate the principle, that
those, who disapprove the verb singular in the examples in
question, may notwithstanding admit it in such expressions
as so far as, so long as, and all similar phraseologies.
“To illustrate, and often to correct him, I have meditated
Tacitus, examined Suetonius, and consulted the following
moderns.”—Gibbon. To meditate, when a regimen is assigned
to it, as here, means to plot, to contrive, as, “he meditated
designs against the state.” When it signifies to
ponder, or to reflect seriously, it should be followed by the
preposition on, as, “he meditates on the law of God day and
night.”
IMPROPRIETY.
“They form a procession to proceed the palanquin of the
ambassador.”—Anderson’s Embassy to China. Here the verb
to proceed, or go forward, is improperly used for to precede,
or to go before.
“He waved the subject of his greatness.”—Dryden. “To
wave” is properly “to move loosely,” and should be distinguished
from “to waive,” i.e. “to leave” or “to turn
from.”—See Skinner’s Etym.
“It lays on the table; it laid on the table.” This error is
very common, and should be carefully avoided. The verb
to lay is an active verb; to lie is a neuter verb. When the
subject of discourse is active, the former is to be used; when
the subject is neither active nor passive, the latter ought to
be employed. Thus, “he lays down the book,” “he laid
down the book,” where the nominative expresses an agent, or
a person acting. “The book lies there,” “the book lay
there,” where the nominative expresses something, neither
active, nor passive. When we hear such expressions as
these, “he lays in bed,” “he laid in bed,” a question naturally
occurs, what does he lay? what did he lay? This question
demonstrates the impropriety of the expressions. The error
has originated, partly in an affected delicacy, rejecting the
verb “to lie,” as being synonymous with the verb “to tell a
falsehood wilfully,” and partly from the identity of the one
verb in the present with the other in the preterite sense;
thus, “lay,” “laid,” “laid;” “lie,” “lay,” “lain.”
“The child was overlain.” The participle, for the reason
now given, should be overlaid.
“It has been my brother you saw in the theatre, and not
my cousin.” This use of the preterite definite is, I believe,
confined to Scotland, where, in colloquial language, it is very
common. The Scots employ it in those cases, in which an
Englishman uses either the preterite indefinite, or the verb
signifying necessity. Thus, in the preceding instance, an
Englishman would say, “it must have been my brother, you
saw in the theatre.”
“Without having attended to this, we will be at a loss in
understanding several passages in the classics.”—Blair’s
Lectures. “In the Latin language, there are no two words
we would more readily take to be synonymous, than amare
and diligere.”—Ib. This error occurs frequently in Blair.
In the former example it should be shall, and in the latter
should. (See p. 98.)
An error, the reverse of this, occurs in the following
passage. “There is not a girl in town, but let her have her
will, in going to a mask, and she shall dress like a shepherdess.”—Spectator,
No. 9. It should be, she will. The
author intended to signify mere futurity; instead of which he
has expressed a command.
“He rose the price of bread last week.” Here rose, the
preterite of the neuter verb to rise, and, therefore, unsusceptible
of a regimen, is ungrammatically joined with an objective
case, instead of raised, the preterite of the active verb
to raise. This error, therefore, involves a solecism, as well
as an impropriety.
“Does the price of bread raise this week?” This error is
the converse of the former, the active verb being here used
instead of the neuter. The question, What does it raise?
shows the impropriety of the expression. It ought to be,
“Does the price of bread rise this week?” These verbs,
like the verb to lay and to lie, are very often confounded in
vulgar use.
“It would be injurious to the character of Prince Maurice,
to suppose, that he would demean himself so far, as to be
concerned in those anonymous pamphlets.”—Watson’s Philip III.
Here the verb to demean, which signifies “to behave,”
is used as equivalent to the verb to debase, or “to degrade.”
This impropriety is now, I believe, almost entirely confined
to Scotland; it has, therefore, been ranked in the number of
Scotticisms. “I demean myself” is equivalent to “I behave
myself;” and in this sense the author last quoted has, in
another passage, very properly used it. “Such of the
Morescoes might remain, who, for any considerable time, demeaned
themselves as Christians.”—Ibid.
“Considerable arrears being now resting to the soldiers.”—Ibid.
“Resting,” which is equivalent to “being quiet,” or
“remaining,” is, in the sense in which it is here employed, a
rank Scotticism: it should be, “due,” or “owing.”
“The reason will be accounted for hereafter.”—Warburton.
Accounted for is here improperly used for assigned. “To
account for a reason,” is “to account for an account.”
“But no evidence is admitted in the house of lords, this
being a distinct jurisdiction, which differs it considerably
from these instances.”—Blackstone. The verb to differ is a
neuter verb, and cannot admit a regimen. The author has
improperly used it in an active sense, for “to make to differ.”
It should be, “by which it differs,” or “which makes it
differ considerably from these instances.”[146]
“In order to have this project reduced to practice, there
seems to want nothing more, than to put those in mind,” &c.—Swift.
Here, “to want,” that is, “to need,” “to require,”
is improperly used for “to be wanting,” “to be required,”
“to be wanted.” It should be, “there seems to be nothing
wanting.” The verb to want was frequently employed by
Pope and Swift in the sense in which we here find it. Johnson,
likewise, in one or two passages, has adopted the same
usage, thus, “there had never wanted writers to talk occasionally
of Arcadia and Strephon.”—Life of Phillips. But in
this sense it may now be deemed obsolescent, if not entirely
obsolete.
The reader will here permit me to observe, that there is
an idiom in our language, respecting the use of active for
passive verbs, which seems worthy of attention, and which
I do not recollect to have seen remarked by any of our grammarians.
In the languages of antiquity, the distinction between
active and passive was strictly observed; but in English
the active is frequently employed for the passive voice.
Of this remarkable idiom numberless examples might be produced;
but the few following will suffice. Thus we say,
“the sentence reads ill,” “the wine drinks harsh,” “the grass
cuts easily,” “the apples eat hard,” “the drum beats to arms,”
“the metal works well.” In these examples, the subject
clearly is acted upon; the verb, therefore, must be considered
as having a passive signification. It is almost unnecessary
to observe, that this phraseology should be avoided, whenever
it is likely to create ambiguity.
“Lead me forth in thy truth, and learn me.”—Book of
Common Prayer, Psal. xxv. The verb to learn formerly denoted,
either “to teach,” or “to acquire knowledge.” In the
former sense it is now obsolete. It should therefore be,
“lead me forth in thy truth, and teach me.”
“Prevent us, O Lord, in all our doings by thy most
gracious favour.”—Book of Common Prayer. “He had prevented
the hour, because we might have the whole day before
us.”—Bacon. The verb to prevent, as signifying “to go before,”
or “come before,” is now obsolete.
“There was no longer any doubt, that the king was determined
to wreck his resentment on all concerned.”—Watson’s
Philip II.
“They not only wrecked their vengeance on the living,
but on the ashes of the dead heretics.”—Henry’s Britain.
Here the verb to wreck, or “to destroy, by dashing on
rocks,” is improperly used for “to wreak,” or “to discharge.”
In the last example the adverbs not only are improperly
placed. It should be, “they wreaked their vengeance not
only,” &c.
“We outrun our present income, not doubting to disburse
ourselves out of the profits of some future plan.”—Addison.
“To disburse,” or “to expend money,” is here improperly
used for “to reimburse,” or “to repay.”
“And wrought a great miracle conform to that of the
apostles.”—Bacon.
“The last is the most simple, and the most perfect, as
being conform to the nature of knowledge.”—Hutton’s Investigation,
vol. i. p. 643. Conform, here used for conformable,
is, in this sense, deemed a Scotticism.
BARBARISM.
“Friendship, a rare thing in princes, more rare between
princes, that so holily was observed to the last, of those two
excellent men.”—Sidney on Government. Holily is obsolete.
“Enquire, what be the stones, that do easiliest melt.”—Bacon.
The adverb easily is not compared,—see p. 70.
Easiliest is, therefore, a barbarism.
“Their wonder, that any man so near Jerusalem should be
a stranger to what had passed there, their acknowledgment
to one they met accidently, that they believed in this prophet,”
&c.—Guardian. Steele has here used accidently, for
accidentally. The former is a barbarism, and its derivation
is repugnant to analogy.
“Uneath may she endure the flinty street,
To tread them with her tender feeling feet.”—Shakspeare.
Uneath is now obsolete, and may therefore be deemed a barbarism.
“In northern clime, a val’rous knight
Did whilom kill his bear in fight,
And wound a fiddler.”—Hudibras.
Whilom is now entirely disused. The adverbs whilere, erst,
and perhaps also anon, may be ranked in the class of barbarisms.
“And this attention gives ease to the person, because the
clothes appear unstudily graceful.”—Wollstonecraft’s Original
Stories. The word unstudily is barbarous, and its
mode of derivation contrary to analogy.
SOLECISM.
“Use a little wine for thy stomach’s sake, and thine often
infirmities.” Often, an adverb, is here improperly used as
an adjective, in accordance with the substantive “infirmities.”
It ought to be “thy frequent infirmities.”
“We may cast in such seeds and principles, as we judge
most likely to take soonest and deepest root.” Here, as in
the preceding example, the adverb “soonest” is used as an
adjective; for the connexion is, “soonest root,” and “deepest
root.” Now, we cannot say “soon root,” the former term
being incapable of qualifying the latter; nor can we, therefore,
say, “soonest root.” It ought to be, “the earliest and
the deepest root.”
“After these wars, of which they hope for a soon and
prosperous issue.” Soon issue is another example of the
same error.
“His lordship inveighed, with severity, against the conduct
of the then ministry.” Here then, the adverb equivalent
to at that time, is solecistically employed as an adjective,
agreeing with ministry. This error seems to gain ground;
it should therefore be vigilantly opposed, and carefully
avoided. “The ministry of that time,” would be correct.
“He tells them, that the time should come, that the temple
should be graced with the presence of the Messias.” Here
that is incorrectly used for when, i.e. “at which time the
temple should be graced.”
IMPROPRIETY.
“By letters, dated the third of May, we learn that the
West India fleet arrived safely.” Here safely is improperly
used for safe. The adverb is equivalent to “in a safe manner;”
and when it is said, “that the fleet arrived safely,” it
signifies that the manner of the arrival, rather than the fleet
itself, was safe or free from accident. If I say, “he carried
the parcel as safely as possible,” it implies merely his great
attention to the manner of carrying it; but this does not infallibly
exclude accident; for I may add, “but he unluckily
fell,” or, “he was unfortunately thrown down, and the glass
was broken.” But if I say, “he carried it as safe as possible,”
or, “he carried it safe,” it implies that it came safe, or escaped
all accidents. We should, therefore, say “that the West
India fleet arrived safe.” In disapproving the expression,
“he arrived safely,” I concur with Baker; but the judicious
reader will perceive, that my reason for reprehending it, does
not entirely coincide with his. The author’s words are these:
“If a man says, that he arrived safely, or in a safe manner,
he seems to suppose, that there is danger of some mischance
in arriving. But what danger is there to be apprehended in
the circumstance of arriving? The danger is only during the
journey, or voyage; in the arrival there is none at all. The
proper way of speaking is, therefore, ‘I arrived safe,’ that is,
‘having escaped all the dangers of the passage.’”
“The poor woman carried them to the person to whom
they were directed; and when Lady Cathcart recovered her
liberty, she received her diamonds safely.” It should be,
“she received her diamonds safe.”
Errors like the one on which I have now animadverted,
frequently arise from a desire to avoid the opposite mistake;
I mean the improper use of the adjective for the adverb.—See
Syntax, Rule V. Note 16. Hence many, when they employ
such phraseologies as I have here exemplified, conceive
that they express themselves with the strictest accuracy, thus
verifying the poet’s observation,
“In vitium ducit culpæ fuga, si caret arte.”
In order to avoid this error, it should be remembered, that
many English verbs, while they affirm some action, passion,
or state of the subject, frequently serve as a copula, connecting
the subject with another predicate. This is one of those
idioms, in the grammar of our language, which demand the
particular attention of the classical scholar. For, though an
acquaintance with the learned languages will not seduce him
into an improper use of an adjective for the adverb, it may,
as in the example now before us, betray him into the converse
error. And I am inclined to think, that from a propensity
almost irresistible in the classical scholar to assimilate our
language with the Latin tongue, our lexicographers have designated
many of our words as adverbs, which are strictly adjectives.
When it is said, for example, “it goes hard,” Johnson
considers hard as an adverb. Yet when we say, “it goes
contrary,” he considers contrary as an adjective. There appears
to me to be more of caprice than of reason, more of
prejudice than of truth, in this classification. Both words, I
am persuaded, belong to one and the same species. Nay, I
might venture to assert, that no person, who had studied the
principles of the English language, and of that only, would
pronounce the one to be an adverb, and the other an adjective.
It is to be observed, likewise, that we have the regular
adverb hardly to express the manner. When we say, “he
reasoned concerning the rule,” “we argued respecting the
fact,” “he lives according to nature,” is there not something
extremely arbitrary and unphilosophical, in calling concerning
a preposition, according a preposition, followed by to, but
properly a participle, and respecting a participle? Are not all
the three participles? Yet Johnson has classed them, as I
have now mentioned. But the farther illustration of this subject
would lead us into a field much too large for the limits of
the present treatise. We must therefore revert to our primary
observation, in which we cautioned the reader against the improper
use of the adjective for the adverb. It should be remembered
that, when it is intended to predicate something
of the subject, beside the attribute of the verb, the adjective
should be employed; but, when it is intended to express
merely some modification of the attribute of the verb, we
should then use the adverb. The difference may be illustrated
by the following examples. When Gustavus says to
his troops, “your limbs tread vigorous and your breasts beat
high,” he predicates with the act of treading their physical
strength; but had he said, “your limbs tread vigorously,” it
would merely modify their treading, and express an act, not
a constitutional habit. The same distinction may be made
between saying with Arnoldus in the same play, “the tear
rolls graceful down his visage,” and “the tear rolls gracefully.”
The former predicates grace of the tear itself, the
latter merely of its rolling. When we say, “he looks sly,”
we mean he has the look or the appearance of being a sly
man; when it is said, “he looks slyly,” we signify that he
assumes a sly look. When we say, “it tastes good,” we
affirm that the subject is of a good quality, whether the taste
be pleasant or unpleasant; if we say, “it tastes well,” we
affirm the taste of it to be pleasant.
“The manner of it is thus.” The adverb thus means “in
this manner.” The expression, therefore, amounts to “the
manner of it is in this manner.” It should be, “the manner
of it is this,” or, “this is the manner of it.” “This much is
certain.” Better, “thus much,” or “so much.”
“It is a long time since I have been devoted to your interest.”
Since properly means “from the time when,” and
not “during which time.” The expression might be construed
into a meaning the reverse of that which is intended,
implying, that the attachment had ceased for a long time. It
should be, “it is a long time since I became devoted,” or, “it
is a long time, that I have been devoted to your interest.”
“It is equally the same.” Equally is here redundant; it
ought to be, “it is the same.”
“Whenever I call on him, he always inquires for you.”
Whenever means “at what time soever,” “always when,”
or “as often as;” always, therefore, is redundant.
“They will not listen to the voice of the charmer, charm
he never so wisely.” Never is here improperly used for ever.
It ought to be, “charm he ever so wisely;” that is, “however
wisely,” or “how wisely soever, he may charm.”
“And even in those characteristical portraits, on which he
has lavished all the decorations of his style, he is seldom or
ever misled.”—Stewart’s Life of Robertson. This error is
the converse of the former. It ought to be, “seldom or
never;” that is, “seldom, or at no time.” “Seldom or ever”
is equivalent to “seldom or always,” or to “seldom or at any
time;” expressions evidently improper.
“Whether thou be my son or not.”—Bible. “Whether
you will keep his commandments, or no.” Both these phraseologies
are in use; but I am inclined to agree with those
grammarians, who prefer the former, as more consistent with
the ellipsis—“Whether thou be, or be not.” “Whether you
will keep his commandments, or will not keep.”
“Some years after being released from prison, by reason
of his consummate knowledge of civil law, and military
affairs, he was soon exalted to the supreme power.” The first
clause of this sentence is ambiguous; for the sentence may
imply, either that he gained the supremacy, some years after
he was released from prison, that period being left indeterminate;
or that some years after a time previously mentioned,
he was released from prison, and attained the chief power.
The latter being the author’s meaning, it ought to be,
“some years afterwards being released from prison.” Another
ambiguity is here involved by improper arrangement;
for, as the sentence stands, it is somewhat doubtful, whether
his consummate knowledge was the cause of his releasement,
or the cause of his elevation. This error, however, belongs
more to the rhetorician, than the grammarian. The French
term this ambiguity, “construction louche,” or a squinting
construction.
The following error consists in wrong collocation: “The
Celtiberi in Spain borrowed that name from the Celtæ and
Iberi, from whom they were jointly descended.” Jointly,
with whom? It should be, “from whom (the Celtæ and
Iberi) jointly they were descended.”
“And the Quakers seem to approach nearly the only regular
body of Deists in the universe, the literati, or the disciples
of Confucius in China.”—Hume’s Essays. The adverb
nearly, which is synonymous with almost, is here improperly
used for near[147]. It should be, approach near.
“This is the Leviathan, from whence the terrible wits of
our age are said to borrow their weapons.”—Swift. From
is here redundant; whence, denoting “from which place.”
“An ancient author prophecies from hence.”—Dryden.
Here a similar impropriety is involved. It should be, hence.
“E’er we can offer our complaints,
Behold him present with his aid.”
E’er, a contraction for ever, which is synonymous with always,
and also at any time, is here improperly used for ere or before.
In the two following passages, there appears to me to be
a similar error: “Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the
golden bowl be broken.”—Bible. “I was set up from everlasting,
from the beginning, or ever the earth was.”—Ibid.
“And, as there is now never a woman in England, I hope,
I may talk of women without offence.”—Steele.
“He spake never a word.”—Bible.
This usage of the word “never,” is now, I believe, entirely
confined to the vulgar.
“As for conflagrations and great droughts, they do not
merely dispeople and destroy.”—Bacon. Merely is here used,
as it is uniformly by Bacon, and very frequently by Shakspeare,
for entirely. In this sense, it is obsolete; and it now
signifies purely, simply, only, nothing more than. From inattention
to this, the passage, now quoted, has been corrupted
in several editions. They have it, “do not merely dispeople,
but destroy,” conveying a sentiment very different from what
the author intended.
SOLECISM.
“Who do you speak to?” Here the preposition is joined
with the nominative, instead of the objective case. It should
be, “whom do you speak to?” or “to whom do you speak?”
To who is a solecism.
“He talked to you and I, of this matter, some days ago.”
It should be, “to you and me;” that is, “to you and to me.”
“Now Margaret’s curse is fallen upon our heads,
When she exclaim’d on Hastings you and I.”
Shakspeare.
It ought to be, “on Hastings you and me,” the pronouns
being under the government of the preposition understood.
“Neither do I think, that anything could be more entertaining,
than the story of it exactly told, with such observations,
and in such a spirit, style, and manner, as you alone
are capable of performing it.” This sentence is extremely
faulty. “To perform a story” is not English; and the relative
clause is ungrammatical, the preposition being omitted.
It should be, “performing it in,” which would be grammatically
correct, but inelegant, as well as improper. It would
be better expressed thus, “in that spirit, style, and manner,
in which you alone are capable of narrating it.”
“Notwithstanding of the numerous panegyrics on the ancient
English liberty.”—Hume’s Essays. The error here in
the use of the preposition after notwithstanding, is, I believe,
peculiar to Scotland. Notwithstanding is a compound word
of the same import as not preventing. The grammatical construction
therefore is, “the numerous panegyrics notwithstanding,”
that is, “not hindering,” the noun and the participle
being in the absolute case. Of renders the expression
solecistical.
IMPROPRIETY.
“If policy can prevail upon force.”—Addison. Here upon
is improperly used for over. To prevail on, is “to persuade;”
to prevail over, is “to overcome.”
“I have set down the names of several gentlemen, who
have been robbed in Dublin streets, for these three years
past.”—Swift. It should be, “within these three years past.”
Swift’s expression implies, as Baker observes, that these gentlemen
had been robbed during the whole three years.
“Ye blind guides, who strain at a gnat, and swallow a
camel.” In this sentence, the preposition at is very improperly
used for out. It should be, “strain out a gnat;” that
is, exclude it from the liquor by straining.
“Oliver Proudfute, a freeman and burgess, was slain upon
the streets of the city.”—Scott. This form of expression is
almost universal in Scotland. An Englishman says, “in the
streets.”
“I have several times inquired of you without any satisfaction.”—Pope.
We say, “inquire of,” when we ask a
question; and “inquire for,” or “after,” when we desire to
know the circumstances, in which any object is placed. He
should have employed the latter expression.
“The greatest masters of critical learning differ among one
another.”—Spectator. If the ellipsis be supplied, the sentence
proceeds thus: “The greatest masters of critical learning
differ, one differs among another.” Here the preposition
among, which implies a number, or a plurality, is joined to
a term significant of unity. It ought to be, “from one another;”
that is “one from another,” or “differ among themselves.”
“I intended to wait of you this morning.” The preposition
of is here improperly used for on. We say, to wait on,
not to wait of.
“He knows nothing on it.” This is a vile vulgarism for
“he knows nothing of it.”
“He is now much altered to the better.” To is here improperly
used instead of for. “Altered to the better,” may,
I believe, be deemed a Scotticism. It ought to be, “he is
altered for the better.”
Ambiguity is sometimes produced by putting the preposition
in an improper place. “A clergyman is, by the militia
act, exempted from both serving and contributing.” This,
though intended to express a different meaning, strictly implies,
that he is not obliged both to serve and to contribute,
but does not exclude his liability to do the one, or the
other. If we say, “he is exempted both from serving and
contributing,” we express an exemption from both.
“Such of my readers, as have a taste of fine writing.”—Addison’s
Spect. “To have a taste of a thing,” is “to feel
how it affects the sensitive or perceptive faculty;” “to have
a taste for a thing,” is “to relish its agreeable qualities;”
“to have a taste in a thing,” which is the expression used by
Addison in the same paper, is “to have a discriminative
judgment in examining the object.” The first expression is
incorrect, as not conveying his meaning.
Swift, speaking of Marlborough’s dismission from the
queen’s ministry, as a bad requital of his public services,
says, “If a stranger should hear these furious outcries of
ingratitude against our general, he would be apt to inquire,”
&c. One would naturally conclude from the author’s expression,
that Marlborough, and not the nation, was charged
with ingratitude. He should have said, “ingratitude towards
our general.”
“I received the sword in a present from my brother.”
This is a very common colloquial Scotticism, and occurs
occasionally in written language. The sword was not received
in, but as a present.
In the use of prepositions, a distinction is properly made
between their literal and figurative meaning. “Wit,” says
Shakspeare, “depends on dilatory time.” Here the verb is
employed figuratively, and the idea involved in the primitive
meaning is dismissed.
“From gilded roofs depending lamps display.”—Dryden.
Here the verb is used in its literal acceptation, denoting “to
hang,” and is followed, therefore, by from.
To the same purpose it has been remarked by Campbell,
that the verb “to found,” used literally, is followed by on
preferably to in, as, “the house was founded on a rock;”
but, when employed metaphorically, is better followed by in,
as, “dominion is founded in grace.”
“There is no need for your assistance.” It should be,
“of your assistance.” We say, “occasion for,” and “need
of.” Need for may likewise be pronounced a Scotticism,
as, I believe, this phraseology is seldom or never used by
English writers.
“For, what chiefly deters the sons of science and philosophy
from reading the Bible, and profiting of that lecture,
but the stumbling-block of absolute inspiration?”—Geddes.
“To profit of” is a Gallicism; it should be, “profiting by.”
SOLECISM.
“A system of theology, involving such absurdities, can be
maintained, I think, by no rational man, much less by so
learned a man as him.” Conjunctions having no government,
the word as ought not to be joined with an objective
case. It should be, “so learned a man as he,” the verb is
being understood.
“Tell the cardinal, that I understand poetry better than
him.”—Smollett. According to the grammatical construction
of the latter clause, it means, “I understand poetry better
than I understand him.” This, however, is not the sentiment
which the writer intended to convey. The clause should
proceed thus, “I understand poetry better than he;” that is,
“than he understands it.” Those who contend for the use
of than as a preposition, and justify the phraseology which
is here censured, must at least admit, that to construe than
as a preposition, creates ambiguity. Thus, when it is said,
“you think him handsomer than me,” it would be impossible
to determine whether the meaning is, “you think him handsomer
than I think him,” or “you think him handsomer than
you think me.”
“There is nothing more pleases mankind, as to have others
to admire and praise their performances, though they are
never so trivial.” Here there are two errors. The comparative
more is followed by as, instead of than; and the adverb
never is improperly used for ever. “How trivial so ever.”
It should be, “There is nothing that pleases mankind more,
than,” &c.
Conjunctions having no government, the scholar, desirous
to avoid error, should carefully observe, whether the predicate
be applicable to the two subjects, connected by the conjunction,
or, to speak more generally, whether the two nouns be
dependent on the same verb or preposition, expressed or
understood. “The lover got a woman of greater fortune
than her he had missed.”—Addison, Guardian. This sentence,
if not acknowledged to be ungrammatical, is at least
inelegant. The pronoun should have been introduced. If
than be considered as having the power of a preposition, the
charge of solecism is precluded; but if than be a conjunction,
he should have said, “than she, whom he had missed.”
For, as Lowth observes, there is no ellipsis of the verb got,
so that the pronoun her cannot be under its government.
The meaning is not, “The lover got a woman of greater
fortune, than he got her, whom he missed,” for this would be
a contradiction, but, “of greater fortune, than she was.” In
like manner, in the following passage:
“Nor hope to be myself less miserable,
By what I seek, but others to make
Such as I.”—Milton.
Bentley says, that it should be me. We concur with Dr.
Lowth in rejecting this correction, and approving the expression
of Milton. There is no ellipsis of the verb make;
others and I are not under the government of the same word.
The meaning is not, “to make others such, as to make me,”
but, “such as I am” the substantive verb being understood.
In the following passage, on the contrary, the ellipsis seems
evident: “I found none so fit as him to be set in opposition
to the father of the renowned city of Rome.” It has been
contended, that the author should have said, “as he,” and
not “as him:” but it appears to me, that the verb found is
understood in the secondary clause, and that the expression
is correct, the sense being, “I found none so fit, as I found
him.”
In the following passage the two subjects belong to the
same verb:
“The sun, upon the calmest sea,
Appears not half so bright as thee.”—Prior.
It ought to be, “as thou;” that is, “as thou appearest.”
“So as,” and “as, as,” though frequently, have not always
the same import. “These things,” said Thales to Solon,
who was lamenting the supposed death of his son, “which
strike down so firm a man as you, have deterred me from
marriage.” The expression clearly refers to Solon; but, if
he had said “as firm a man as you,” it might have referred
to a different person from Solon, but a man of equal fortitude.
“For ever in this humble cell,
Let thee and I, my fair one, dwell.”
The second line of the couplet is ungrammatical, the conjunction
connecting an objective with a nominative case, or,
to speak more correctly, the pronoun of the first person,
which should be a regimen to the verb understood, being
here in the nominative case. Thus, “let thee,” and, “let I,
my fair one, dwell,” instead of “let thee, and let me.”
“Let us make a covenant, I and thou.”—Bible. The
error here, though similar, does not come under precisely the
same predicament with the former. The pronoun us is very
properly in the objective case, after the verb let; I and thou
should therefore be in the same case, according to Rule vii.
of Syntax. The expression is in fact elliptical, and when
completed proceeds thus, “Let us make a covenant: let me
and thee make.”
“Though he were a son, yet learned he obedience by the
things which he suffered.” The first clause is intended to
express a fact, not a hypothesis; the verb, therefore, should
be in the indicative mood. Conjunctions have no government,
either of cases or moods.
IMPROPRIETY.
“If in case he come, all will be well.” If and in case are
synonymous, the one meaning “suppose,” and the other,
“on the supposition.” One of them, therefore, is redundant.
“The reason of my desiring to see you was, because I
wanted to talk with you.” Because means “by reason;” the
expression, therefore, is chargeable with redundancy. It
should be, “that I wanted to talk with you.”
“No sooner was the cry of the infant heard, but the old
gentleman rushed into the room.”—Martinus Scrib. The
comparative is here improperly followed by but, instead of
than.
“Scarce had the Spirit of Laws made its appearance, than
it was attacked.” Than is employed after comparatives only,
and the word other. It ought to be “scarce,” or, for reasons
formerly given, “scarcely had the Spirit of Laws made its
appearance, when it was attacked,” or “no sooner—than.”
“The resolution was not the less fixed, that the secret was
as yet communicated to very few, either in the French or
English court.” This passage from Hume I have not been
able to find. Priestley observes, that it involves a Gallicism,
the word that being used instead of as. If the meaning intended
be, that some circumstances, previously mentioned, had
not shaken the resolution, because the secret was as yet
known to few, then Priestley’s observation was correct, and
the word as should be substituted for that, to express the
cause of the firmness. But, if the author intended to say,
that the very partial discovery of the secret had not shaken
the resolution, the clause is then perfectly correct. According
to the former phraseology, the circumstance subjoined
operated as a cause, preventing the resolution from being
shaken: according to the latter, it had no effect, or produced
no change of the previous determination. In other words,
“the less fixed that,” implies that the subject of the following
clause did not affect that of the preceding; “the less
fixed as” denotes, that the latter circumstance contributed
to the production of the former. As it is obvious, that, in
such examples, the definite article may refer either to the
antecedent or the subsequent clause, the distinction, here
specified, should, for the sake of perspicuity, be carefully
observed[148].
“His donation was the more acceptable, that it was given
without solicitation.” That the word that is frequently used
for because cannot be questioned; thus, “I am glad that you
have returned safe,” that is, “because you have returned safe.”
“’T is not that I love you less
Than when before your feet I lay.”—Waller.
Here that is equivalent to because. English writers, however,
after a comparative, employ as or because, to denote
that the circumstance subjoined was the cause of the preceding
one. The use of that in such examples is accounted
a Scotticism; it should, therefore, be, “his donation was
the more acceptable, as” or “because it was given without
solicitation.”
“His arguments on this occasion had, it may be presumed,
the greater weight, that he had never himself entered within
the walls of a playhouse.”—Stewart’s Life of Robertson.
“A mortification, the more severe, that the joint authority
of the archduke and the infanta governed the Austrian
Netherlands.”—Thomson’s Continuation of Watson’s History.
These sentences are chargeable with the same error; and,
it is not a little remarkable, though the impropriety has been
pointed out again and again, that there is scarcely a Scotch
writer, not even among those of the highest name, who is
not chargeable with the frequent commission of this error.
“On the east and west sides, it (America) is washed by the
Atlantic and Pacific oceans.”—Robertson. This mode of
expression is incorrect; and, though to the geographer intelligible,
it strictly conveys a conception not intended by the
author. The copulative joins the two sides, which ought to
be separated; and combines the two seas, instead of the two
facts, implying, that both sides are washed by the same two
oceans. It should be rather, “On the east side it is washed
by the Atlantic, and on the west (is washed) by the Pacific
ocean.”
“Will it be believed, that the four Gospels are as old, or
even older than tradition?”—Bolingbroke. Here there is a
faulty omission of the particle corresponding to as; for the
positive and comparative cannot be followed by the same
conjunction. It ought to be, “as old as, or even older than
tradition;” or, perhaps, better, “as old as tradition, or even
older.”
“The books were to have been sold as this day.” This is
a most offensive vulgarism. The conjunction as can have no
regimen; nor can it be properly used as equivalent to on.
It ought to be, “sold this day,” or “on this day.”
“It is supposed, that he must have arrived at Paris as
yesterday.” This sentence is chargeable with the same error.
Construed strictly, it is, “he must have arrived at Paris as,
or in like manner as, he arrived yesterday.”
“The duke had not behaved with that loyalty, as he ought
to have done.” Propriety of correspondence here requires
with that to be followed by with which, instead of as. The
sentence, even thus corrected, would be still inelegant and
clumsy. “The duke had not behaved with becoming
loyalty,” would be much better.
“In the order as they lie in his preface.” This involves a
similar impropriety. It should be, “in order as,” or “in the
order, in which they lie in his preface.”
“No; this is not always the case neither.”—Beattie.
“Men come not to the knowledge of ideas which are
thought innate, till they come to the use of reason; nor then
neither.”—Locke.
In old English two negatives denied; hence, perhaps, this
phraseology originated. Johnson remarks, that the use of
neither, after a negative, and at the end of a sentence, though
not grammatical, renders the expression more emphatic.
Analogy, however, is decidedly in favour of the affirmative
term; I, therefore, prefer the word “either.” Were Johnson’s
argument admitted, such expressions as these, “I forbade
you not to go;” “I won’t suffer no such thing;” “He
would not have none of my assistance,” might, I apprehend,
be justified on the same principle. Those who employ them,
doubtless, believe them to be more emphatic, than if they included
a single negative.
“This I am the rather disposed to do, that it will serve to
illustrate the principles above laid down.”—Campbell on
Rhetoric. This sentence involves an error, on which I have
already animadverted. “The rather” should be followed by
as, not that.
“This is another use, that in my opinion contributes rather
to make a man learned than wise: and is neither capable of
pleasing the understanding, or imagination.” Lowth justly
observes, that or is here improperly used for nor, the correlative
words being neither, nor. In addition to this observation,
I remark, that the word neither is erroneously placed.
To render this collocation of the conjunction correct, there
should be another attributive opposed to the word “capable,”
as, “neither capable of pleasing the understanding, nor calculated
to gratify the imagination.” But, as the author intended
to exclude two subjects, these should have been contrasted
by the exclusive conjunctions, thus, “is capable of
pleasing neither the understanding, nor the imagination.”
A similar error occurs in the following sentence: “Adversity
both taught you to think and reason.”—Steele. The
conjunction, which is, in truth, the adjective both, is improperly
placed. It should be, “taught you both,” i.e. the
two things, “to think and reason.”
It has been already observed, that the conjunction or is
used disjunctively, and subdisjunctively, sometimes denoting
a diversity of things, and sometimes merely a difference of
names. Hence often arises ambiguity, where the utmost precision
of expression is necessary[149]. When Ruddiman delivers
it as a rule, that “verbal adjectives, or such as signify an affection
of the mind, require the genitive,” I have known the
scholar at a loss to understand, whether there be two distinct
classes of adjectives, here intended, or one class under two
designations. The ambiguity might here be avoided, by using
and or with instead of or. It may also be prevented in many
cases, by more forcibly marking the distinction by the use of
either. Thus, if we say, “whosoever shall cause, or occasion
a disturbance,” it may be doubtful, whether the latter of
the two verbs be not designed as explanatory of the former,
they, though their meanings be distinct, being often used as
synonymous terms. If we say, “shall either cause or occasion,”
all doubt is removed. Sometimes ambiguity may be
precluded either by the insertion, or the omission, of the article.
Thus, if we say, “a peer, or lord of parliament,”[150]
meaning to designate only one individual, or one order,
the expression is correct. But if it be intended to signify
two individuals, every peer not being a lord of parliament,
and every lord of parliament not being a peer, we should
say, “a peer, or a lord of parliament,” or “either a peer,
or lord of parliament.”
Having now endeavoured to explain and illustrate the etymology
and syntax of the English language, I cannot dismiss
the subject without earnestly recommending to the classical
student to cultivate a critical acquaintance with his native
tongue. It is an egregious, but common error, to imagine,
that a perfect knowledge of Greek and Latin precludes the
necessity of studying the principles of English grammar.
The structure of the ancient, and that of modern languages,
are very dissimilar. Nay, the peculiar idioms of any language,
how like soever in its general principles to any other,
must be learned by study, and an attentive perusal of the best
writers in that language. Nor can any imputation be more
reproachful to the proficient in classical literature, than, with
a critical knowledge of Greek and Latin, which are now dead
languages, to be superficially acquainted with his native
tongue, in which he must think, and speak, and write.
The superiority of Greek and Latin over the English language
in respect of harmony, graceful dignity, conciseness,
and fluency, will be readily admitted. Our language is, comparatively,
harsh and abrupt. It possesses strength, indeed;
but unaccompanied with softness, with elegance, or with
majesty. It must be granted also, that the Greek is, perhaps,
a more copious, and is certainly a more ductile[151] and tractable
language. But though, in these respects, the English be inferior
to the languages of Greece and Rome, yet in preciseness
of expression, diversity of sound, facility of communication,
and variety of phrase, it may claim the pre-eminence.
It would be easy to evince the truth of this assertion, did
the limits, which I have prescribed to myself permit. The
fact is, that analogous languages almost necessarily possess
a superiority in these respects over those, which are transpositive.
It is to be remembered, also, that our language is susceptible
of high improvement; and though its abrupt and rugged
nature cannot be entirely changed, much may be done to
smooth its asperities and soften its harshness.
As a further inducement to the study of the English language,
I would assure the young reader, that a due attention
to accuracy of diction is highly conducive to correctness of
thought. For, as it is generally true, that he, whose conceptions
are clear, and who is master of his subject, delivers his
sentiments with ease and perspicuity[152]; so it is equally certain,
that, as language is not only the vehicle of thought, but
also an instrument of invention, if we desire to attain a habit
of conceiving clearly and thinking correctly, we must learn
to speak and write with accuracy and precision.
It must, at the same time, be remembered, that to give our
chief attention to mere phraseology, or to be more solicitous
about the accuracy of the diction than the value of the sentiment,
is a sure indication of a nerveless and vacant mind.
As we estimate a man, not by his garb, but by his intellectual
and moral worth, so it is the sentiment itself, not the
dress in which it is exhibited, that determines its character,
and our opinion of its author.
“True expression, like th’ unchanging sun,
Clears and improves whate’er it shines upon;
It gilds all objects, but it alters none.”—Pope.
In short, the precept of Quintilian should be studiously
observed: “curam ergo verborum, rerum volo esse solicitudinem.”—Inst.
Orat. lib. viii.
THE END.
G. Woodfall and Son, Printers, Angel Court, Skinner Street, London.