The nominative to a passive verb, is the object, but not the agent,
of the action.
A verb is intransitive when it has no object; as, "The waters came upon me;" "I am he who was, and is, and is to come."
As an exercise on what you have been studying, I will now put to you a few questions, all of which you ought to be able to answer before you proceed any farther.
QUESTIONS NOT ANSWERED IN PARSING.
With what two general divisions of grammar does the second lecture begin?—Of what does Etymology treat?—Of what does Syntax treat?—On what is based the true principle of classification?—How do you ascertain the part of speech to which a word belongs?—What is meant by its manner of meaning?—Name the ten parts of speech.—Which of these are considered the most important?—By what sign may a noun be distinguished?—How many kinds of nouns are there?—What belong to nouns?—What is gender?—How many genders have nouns?—What is person?—How many persons have nouns?—What is number?—How many numbers have nouns?—What is case?—How many cases have nouns?—Does case consist in the inflections of a noun?—How many kinds of verbs are there?—By what sign may a verb be known?—What belong to verbs?—What is synthesis?—What is analysis?—What is parsing?—Repeat the order of parsing the noun.—Repeat the order of parsing the verb.—What rule do you apply in parsing a noun in the possessive case?—What rule, in parsing a noun in the nominative case?—What rule applies in parsing a verb?—What is meant by government?—Explain rules 3, 4, and 12.—By what rule are the nominative and objective cases of nouns known?—By what sign can you distinguish a transitive from an intransitive verb?—Do transitive verbs ever express a moral action?—Are intransitive and neuter verbs ever used as transitive?—Give some examples of transitive verbs with personal and verbal objects.—What rule do you apply in parsing a noun in the objective case?—Explain rule 20.—In parsing a verb agreeing with a noun of multitude conveying plurality of idea, what rule do you apply?
QUESTIONS ON THE NOTES.
Whether the learner be required to answer the following questions, or
not, is, of course, left discretionary with the teacher. The author
takes the liberty to suggest the expediency of not, generally,
enforcing such a requisition, until the pupil goes through the book a
second time.
Name some participial nouns.—What are abstract nouns?—What is the
distinction between abstract nouns and adjectives?—What are natural
nouns?—Artificial nouns?—What is the distinction between material
and immaterial nouns?—Are nouns ever of the masculine and feminine
gender?—Give examples.—When are nouns, naturally neuter, converted
into the masculine or feminine gender?—Give examples.—Speak some nouns
that are always in the singular number.—Some that are always
plural.—Speak some that are in the same form in both numbers.—Name
all the various ways of forming the plural number of nouns.—Of what
number are the nouns news, means, alms, and amends?—Name the
plurals to the following compound nouns, handful, cupful, spoonful,
brother-in-law, court-martial.
NOTES ON PHILOSOPHICAL GRAMMAR.
Perhaps no subject has, in this age, elicited more patient research,
and critical investigation of original, constituent principles,
formations, and combinations, than the English language. The
legitimate province of philology, however, as I humbly conceive,
has, in some instances, been made to yield to that of philosophy, so
far as to divert the attention from the combinations of our language
which refinement has introduced, to radical elements and
associations which no way concern the progress of literature, or the
essential use for which language was intended. Were this
retrogressive mode of investigating and applying principles, to
obtain, among philologists, the ascendency over that which
accommodates the use of language to progressive refinement, it is
easy to conceive the state of barbarism to which society would, in a
short time, be reduced. Moreover, if what some call the philosophy
of language, were to supersede, altogether, the province of
philology as it applies to the present, progressive and refined
state of English literature, the great object contemplated by the
learned, in all ages, namely, the approximation of language, in
common with every thing else, to that point of perfection at which
it is the object of correct philology to arrive, would be
frustrated.
The dubious and wildering track struck out by those innovators and
visionaries who absurdly endeavor to teach modern English, by
rejecting the authority and sanction of custom, and by conducting
the learner back to the original combinations, and the detached,
disjointed, and barbarous constructions of our progenitors, both
prudence and reason, as well as a due regard for correct philology,
impel me to shun. Those modest writers who, by bringing to their aid
a little sophistry, much duplicity, and a wholesale traffic in the
swelling phrases, "philosophy, reason, and common sense," attempt to
overthrow the wisdom of former ages, and show that the result of all
the labors of those distinguished philologists who had previously
occupied the field of grammatical science, is nothing but error and
folly, will doubtless meet the neglect and contempt justly merited
by such consummate vanity and unblushing pedantry. Fortunately for
those who employ our language as their vehicle of mental conference,
custom will not yield to the speculative theories of the visionary.
If it would, improvement in English literature would soon be at an
end, and we should be tamely conducted back to the Vandalic age.
As the use of what is commonly called the philosophy of language, is
evidently misapplied by those who make it the test of grammatical
certainty, it may not be amiss to offer a few considerations with a
view to expose the fallacy of so vague a criterion.
All reasoning and investigation which depend on the philosophy of
language for an ultimate result, must be conducted a posteriori.
Its office, according to the ordinary mode of treating the subject,
is to trace language to its origin, not for the purpose of
determining and fixing grammatical associations and dependances,
such as the agreement, government, and mutual relations of words,
but in order to analyze combinations with a view to develop the
first principles of the language, and arrive at the primitive
meaning of words. Now, it is presumed, that no one who has paid
critical attention to the subject, will contend, that the original
import of single words, has any relation to the syntactical
dependances and connexions of words in general;—to gain a knowledge
of which, is the leading object of the student in grammar. And,
furthermore, I challenge those who have indulged in such useless
vagaries, to show by what process, with their own systems, they can
communicate a practical knowledge of grammar. I venture to predict,
that, if they make the attempt, they will find their systems more
splendid in theory, than useful in practice.
Again, it cannot rationally be contended, that the radical meaning
has any efficiency in controlling the signification which, by the
power of association, custom has assigned to many words;—a
signification essentially different from the original import. Were
this the case, and were the language now to be taught and understood
in compliance with the original import of words, it would have to
undergo a thorough change; to be analyzed, divided, and sub-divided,
almost ad infinitum. Indeed, there is the same propriety in
asserting that the Gothic, Danish, and Anglo-Saxon elements in our
language, ought to be pronounced separately, to enable us to
understand our vernacular tongue, that there is in contending, that
their primitive meaning has an ascendency over the influence of the
principle of association in changing, and the power of custom in
determining, the import of words. Many of our words are derived from
the Greek, Roman, French, Spanish, Italian, and German languages;
and the only use we can make of their originals, is to render them
subservient to the force of custom in cases in which general usage
has not varied from the primitive signification. Moreover, let the
advocates of a mere philosophical investigation of the language,
extend their system as far as a radical analysis will warrant them,
and, with Horne Tooke, not only consider adverbs, prepositions,
conjunctions, and interjections, as abbreviations of nouns and
verbs, but, on their own responsibility, apply them, in teaching the
language, in compliance with their radical import, and what would
such a course avail them against the power of custom, and the
influence of association and refinement? Let them show me one
grammarian, produced by such a course of instruction, and they will
exhibit a "philosophical" miracle. They might as well undertake to
teach architecture, by having recourse to its origin, as
represented by booths and tents. In addition to this, when we
consider the great number of obsolete words, from which many now in
use are derived, the original meaning of which cannot be
ascertained, and, also, the multitude whose signification has been
changed by the principle of association, it is preposterous to
think, that a mere philosophical mode of investigating and teaching
the language, is the one by which its significancy can be enforced,
its correctness determined, its use comprehended, and its
improvement extended. Before what commonly passes for a
philosophical manner of developing the language can successfully be
made the medium through which it can be comprehended, in all its
present combinations, relations, and dependances, it must undergo a
thorough retrogressive change, in all those combinations, relations,
and dependances, even to the last letter of the alphabet. And before
we can consent to this radical modification and retrograde ratio of
the English language, we must agree to revive the customs, the
habits, and the precise language of our progenitors, the Goths and
Vandals. Were all the advocates for the introduction of such
philosophical grammars into common schools, at once to enter on
their pilgrimage, and recede into the native obscurity and barbarity
of the ancient Britons, Picts, and Vandals, it is believed, that the
cause of learning and refinement would not suffer greatly by their
loss, and that the good sense of the present age, would not allow
many of our best teachers to be of the party.
The last consideration which I shall give a philosophical manner of
investigating and enforcing the English language, is, that by this
mode of analyzing and reducing it to practice, it cannot, in this
age, be comprehended as the medium of thought. Were this method to
prevail, our present literal language would become a dead letter. Of
what avail is language, if it can not be understood? And how can it
be accommodated to the understanding, unless it receive the sanction
of common consent? Even if we admit that such a manner of unfolding
the principles of our language, is more rational and correct than
the ordinary, practical method, I think it is clear that such a mode
of investigation and development, does not meet the necessities and
convenience of ordinary learners in school. To be consistent, that
system which instructs by tracing a few of our words to their
origin, must unfold the whole in the same manner. But the student in
common schools and academies, cannot afford time to stem the tide of
language up to its source, and there dive to the bottom of the
fountain for knowledge. Such labor ought not to be required of him.
His object is to become, not a philosophical antiquarian, but a
practical grammarian. If I comprehend the design (if they have any)
of our modern philosophical writers on this subject, it is to make
grammarians by inculcating a few general principles, arising out of
the genius of the language, and the nature of things, which the
learner, by the exercise of his reasoning powers, must reduce to
practice. His own judgment, independent of grammar rules, is to be
his guide in speaking and writing correctly. Hence, many of them
exclude from their systems, all exercises in what is called false
Syntax. But these profound philological dictators appear to have
overlooked the important consideration, that the great mass of
mankind, and especially of boys and girls in common schools, can
never become philosophers; and, consequently, can never comprehend
and reduce to practice their metaphysical and obscure systems of
grammar. I wish to see children treated as reasoning beings. But
there should be a medium in all things. It is, therefore, absurd to
instruct children as if they were already profound philosophers and
logicians.
To demonstrate the utility, and enforce the necessity, of exercising
the learner in correcting false Syntax, I need no other argument
than the interesting and undeniable fact, that Mr. Murray's labors,
in this department, have effected a complete revolution in the
English language, in point of verbal accuracy. Who does not know,
that the best writers of this day, are not guilty of one
grammatical inaccuracy, where those authors who wrote before Mr.
Murray flourished, are guilty of five? And what has produced this
important change for the better? Ask the hundreds of thousands who
have studied "Mr. Murray's exercises in FALSE SYNTAX." If, then,
this view of the subject is correct, it follows, that the greater
portion of our philosophical grammars, are far more worthy the
attention of literary connoisseurs, than of the great mass of
learners.
Knowing that a strong predilection for philosophical grammars,
exists in the minds of some teachers of this science, I have thought
proper, for the gratification of such, to intersperse through the
pages of this work under the head of "PHILOSOPHICAL NOTES," an
entire system of grammatical principles as deduced from what appears
to me to be the most rational and consistent philosophical
investigations. They who prefer this theory to that exhibited in the
body of the work, are, of course, at liberty to adopt it.
In general, a philosophical theory of grammar will be found to
accord with the practical theory embraced in the body of this work.
Wherever such agreement exists, the system contained in these NOTES
will be deficient, and this deficiency may be supplied by adopting
the principles contained in the other parts of the work.
OF THE PHILOSOPHICAL CLASSIFICATION OF WORDS.
According to the method in which philosophical investigations of
language have generally been conducted, all our words should be
reduced to two classes; for it can be easily shown, that from the
noun and verb, all the other parts of speech have sprung. Nay, more.
They may even be reduced to one. Verbs do not, in reality, express
actions; but they are intrinsically the mere names of actions. The
idea of action or being communicated by them, as well as the
meaning of words in general, is merely inferential. The
principle of reasoning assumed by the celebrated Horne Tooke, if
carried to its full extent, would result, it is believed, in proving
that we have but one part of speech.
Adnouns or adjectives were originally nouns. Sweet, red,
white, are the names of qualities, as well as sweetness,
redness, whiteness. The former differ from the latter only in their
manner of signification. To denote that the name of some quality
or substance is to be used in connexion with some other name, or,
that this quality is to be attributed to some other name, we
sometimes affix to it the termination en, ed, or y; which
signifies give, add, or join. When we employ the words wooden,
woollen, wealthy, grassy, the terminations en and y, by
their own intrinsic meaning, give notice that we intend to give,
add, or join, the names of some other substances in which are found
the properties or qualities of wood, wool, wealth, or grass.
Pronouns are a class of nouns, used instead of others to prevent
their disagreeable repetition. Participles are certain forms of the
verb. Articles, interjections, adverbs, prepositions, and
conjunctions, are contractions of abbreviations of nouns and verbs.
An (a, one, or one) comes from ananad, to add, to heap.
The and that, from the Anglo-Saxon verb thean, to get, assume.
Lo is the imperative of look; fy, of fian, to hate; and
welcome means, it is well that you are come. In comes from the
Gothic noun inna, the interior of the body; and about, from
boda, the first outward boundary. Through or thorough is the
Teutonic noun thuruh, meaning passage, gate, door. From is the
Anglo-Saxon noun frum, beginning, source, author. He came from
(beginning) Batavia. If (formerly written gif, give, gin) is
the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon verb gifan, to give. I will
remain if (give or grant that fact) he will (remain.) But
comes from the Saxon verb beon-utan, to be-out. I informed no one
but (be-out, leave-out) my brother.
This brief view of the subject, is sufficient to elucidate the
manner in which, according to Horne Tooke's principles, the ten
parts of speech are reduced to one. But I am, by no means, disposed
to concede, that this is the true principle of classification; nor
that it is any more philosophical or rational than one which
allows a more practical division and arrangement of words. What has
been generally received as "philosophical grammar," appears to
possess no stronger claims to that imposing appellation than our
common, practical grammars. Query. Is not Mr. Murray's octavo
grammar more worthy the dignified title of a "Philosophical
Grammar," than Horne Tooke's "Diversions of Purley," or William S.
Cardell's treatises on language? What constitutes a philosophical
treatise, on this, or on any other subject? Wherein is there a
display of philosophy in a speculative, etymological performance,
which attempts to develop and explain the elements and primitive
meaning of words by tracing them to their origin, superior to the
philosophy employed in the development and illustration of the
principles by which we are governed in applying those words to their
legitimate purpose, namely, that of forming a correct and convenient
medium by means of which we can communicate our thoughts? Does
philosophy consist in ransacking the mouldy records of antiquity, in
order to guess at the ancient construction and signification of
single words? or have such investigations, in reality, any thing to
do with grammar?
Admitting that all the words of our language include, in their
original signification, the import of nouns or names, and yet, it
does not follow, that they now possess no other powers, and, in
their combinations and connexions in sentences, are employed for no
other purpose, than barely to name objects. The fact of the
case is, that words are variously combined and applied, to answer
the distinct and diversified purposes of naming objects,
asserting truths, pointing out and limiting objects,
attributing qualities to objects, connecting objects, and so on;
and on this fact is founded the true philosophical principle of
the classification of words. Hence, an arrangement of words into
classes according to this principle, followed by a development and
illustration of the principles and rules that regulate us in the
proper use and application of words in oral and written discourse,
appears to approximate as near to a true definition of
philosophical grammar, as any I am capable of giving.
Nouns, or the names of the objects of our perceptions, doubtless
constituted the original class of words; (if I may be allowed to
assume such a hypothesis as an original class of words;) but the
ever-active principle of association, soon transformed nouns into
verbs, by making them, when employed in a particular manner,
expressive of affirmation. This same principle also operated in
appropriating names to the purpose of attributing qualities to other
names of objects; and in this way was constituted the class of words
called adjectives or attributes. By the same principle were
formed all the other classes.
In the following exposition of English grammar on scientific
principles, I shall divide words into seven classes; Nouns or
Names, Verbs, Adjectives, Adnouns, or Attributes, Adverbs,
Propositions, Pronouns, and Conjunctions or Connectives.
For an explanation of the noun, refer to the body of the work.
PHILOSOPHICAL NOTES.
Plausible arguments may be advanced, for rejecting neuter and
passive verbs; but they have been found to be so convenient in
practice, that the theory which recognises them, has stood the test
of ages. If you tell the young learner, that, in the following
expressions, The church rests on its foundation; The book lies
on the desk; The boys remain (are) idle, the nouns church, book,
and boys, are represented as acting, and, therefore, the verbs
rests, lies, remain, and are, are active, he will not believe
you, because there is no action that is apparent to his senses. And
should you proceed further, and, by a labored and metaphysical
investigation and development of the laws of motion, attempt to
prove to him that "every portion of matter is influenced by
different, active principles, tending to produce change," and,
therefore, every thing in universal nature is always acting, it is
not at all probable, that you could convince his understanding, in
opposition to the dearer testimony of his senses. Of what avail to
learners is a theory which they cannot comprehend?
Among the various theorists and speculative writers on philosophical
grammar, the ingenious Horne Tooke stands pre-eminent; but,
unfortunately, his principal speculations on the verb, have never
met the public eye. William S. Cardell has also rendered himself
conspicuous in the philological field, by taking a bolder stand than
any of his predecessors. His view of the verb is novel, and
ingeniously supported. The following is the substance of his theory
OF THE VERB.
A verb is a word which expresses action; as, Man exists; Trees
grow; Watersflow; Mountains stand; I am.
All verbs are active, and have one object or more than one,
expressed or implied. The pillar stands; that is, it keeps
itself in an erect or standing posture; it upholds or sustains
itself in that position. They are; i.e. they air themselves, or
breathe air; they inspirit, vivify, or uphold themselves by
inhaling air.
Many verbs whose objects are seldom expressed, always have a persona
or verbal one implied. The clouds move; i.e. move themselves
along. The troops marched twenty miles a day; i.e. marched
themselves. The moon shines:—The moon shines or sheds a
shining, sheen, lustre, or brightness. The sparrow
flies:—flies or takes a flight. Talkers talk or speak words
or talk; Walkers walk walkings or walks; The rain rains
rain; Sitters sit or hold sittings or sessions.
To prove that there is no such thing as a neuter verb, the following
appear to be the strongest arguments adduced.
1. No portion of matter is ever in a state of perfect quiescence;
but the component parts of every thing are at all times "influenced
by different, active principles, tending to produce change." Hence,
it follows, that no being or thing can be represented in a neuter
or non-acting state.
This argument supposes the essential character of the verb to be
identified with the primary laws of action, as unfolded by the
principles of physical science. The correctness of this position may
be doubted; but if it can be clearly demonstrated, that every
particle of matter is always in motion, it does not, by any means,
follow, that we cannot speak of things in a state of quiescence.
What is false in fact may be correct in grammar. The point
contested, is not whether things always act, but whether, when we
assert or affirm something respecting them, we always represent
them as acting.
2. Verbs were originally used to express the motions or changes of
things which produced obvious actions, and, by an easy transition,
were afterward applied, in the same way, to things whose actions
were not apparent. This assumption is untenable, and altogether
gratuitous.
3. Verbs called neuter are used in the imperative mood; and, as this
mood commands some one to do something, any verb which adopts it,
must be active. Thus, in the common place phrases, "Be there
quickly; Stand out of my way; Sit or lie farther."
It is admitted that these verbs are here employed in an active
sense; but it is certain, that they are not used according to their
proper, literal meaning. When I tell a man, literally, to
stand, sit, or lie, by moving he would disobey me; but when I
say, "Stand out of my way," I employ the neuter verb stand,
instead of the active verb move or go, and in a correspondent
sense. My meaning is, Move yourself out of my way; or take your
stand somewhere else. This, however, does not prove that stand
is properly used. If we choose to overstep the bounds of custom, we
can employ any word in the language as an active-transitive verb.
Be, sit, and lie, may be explained in the same manner.
4. Neuter verbs are used in connexion with adverbs which express the
manner of action. They must, therefore, be considered active
verbs. The child sleeps soundly; He sits genteelly; They live
contentedly and happily together.
The class of verbs that are never employed as active, is small. By
using adverbs in connexion with verbs, we can fairly prove that some
verbs are not active. It is incorrect to say, I am happily; They
were peacefully; She remains quietly; The fields appear
greenly. These verbs in their common acceptation, do not express
action; for which reason we say, I am happy; They are
peaceful; &c. But in the expressions, The child sleeps soundly;
She sits gracefully; They live happily and contentedly; we
employ the verbs sleeps, sits, and live, in an active sense.
When no action is intended, we say, They live happy and
contented.
If, on scientific principles, it can be proved that those verbs
generally denominated neuter, originally expressed action, their
present, accepted meaning will still oppose the theory, for the
generality of mankind do not attach to them the idea of action.
Thus I have endeavored to present a brief but impartial abstract of
the modern theory of the verb, leaving it with the reader to
estimate it according to its value.
To give a satisfactory definition of the verb, or such a one as
shall be found scientifically correct and unexceptionable, has
hitherto baffled the skill, and transcended the learning, of our
philosophical writers. If its essential quality, as is generally
supposed, is made to consist in expressing affirmation, it remains
still to be defined when a verb expresses affirmation. In
English, and in other languages, words appropriated to express
affirmation, are often used without any such force; our idea of
affirmation, in such instances, being the mere inference of
custom.
In the sentence,—"Think, love, and hate, denote moral actions,"
the words think, love, and hate, are nouns, because they are
mere names of actions. So, when I say, "John, write—is an
irregular verb," the word write is a noun; but when I say, "John,
write—your copy," write is called a verb.
Why is this word considered a noun in one construction, and a verb
in the other, when both constructions, until you pass beyond the
word write, are exactly alike? If write does not express action in
the former sentence, neither does it in the latter, for, in both, it
is introduced in the same manner. On scientific principles, write
must be considered a noun in the latter sentence, for it does not
express action, or make an affirmation; but it merely names the
action which I wish John to perform, and affirmation is the
inferential meaning.
The verb in the infinitive, as well as in the imperative mood, is
divested of its affirmative or verbal force. In both these moods, it
is always presented in its noun-state.
If, after dinner, I say to a servant, "Wine," he infers, that I
wish him to bring me wine; but all this is not said. If I say,
Bring some wine, he, in like manner, understands, that I wish
him to bring me wine; but all that is expressed, is the name of
the action, and of the object of the action. In fact, as much is
done by inference, as by actual expression, in every branch of
language, for thought is too quick to be wholly transmitted by
words.
It is generally conceded, that the termination of our verbs, est,
eth, s, ed, and, also, of the other parts of speech, were
originally separate words of distinct meaning; and that, although
they have been contracted, and, by the refinement of language, have
been made to coalesce with the words in connexion with which they
are employed, yet, in their present character of terminations, they
retain their primitive meaning and force. To denote that a verbal
name was employed as a verb, the Saxons affixed to it a verbalizing
adjunct; thus, the (to take, hold) was the noun-state of the verb;
and when they used it as a verb, they added the termination an;
thus, thean. The termination added, was a sign that affirmation
was intended. The same procedure has been adopted, and, in many
instances, is still practised, in our language. An, originally
affixed to our verbs, in the progress of refinement, was changed to
en, and finally dropped. A few centuries ago, the plural number of
our verbs was denoted by the termination, en; thus, they weren,
they loven; but, as these terminations do not supersede the
necessity of expressing the subject of affirmation, as is the case
in the Latin and Greek verbs, they have been laid aside, as
unnecessary excrescences. For the same reason, we might, without any
disparagement to the language, dispense with the terminations of our
verbs in the singular.
In support of the position, that these terminations were once
separate words, we can trace many of them to their origin. To denote
the feminine gender of some nouns, we affix ess; as, heiress,
instructress. Ess is a contraction of the Hebrew noun essa, a
female. Of our verbs, the termination est is a contraction of
doest, eth, of doeth, s of does. We say, thou dost or
doest love; or thou lovest; i.e. love-dost, or love-doest.
Some believe these terminations to be contractions of havest,
haveth, has. We affix ed, a contraction of dede, to the present
tense of verbs to denote that the action named is dede, did, doed,
or done.
To and do from the Gothic noun taui, signifying act or
effect, are, according to Horne Tooke, nearly alike in meaning and
force; and when the custom of affixing some more ancient verbalizing
adjunct, began to be dropped, its place and meaning were generally
supplied by prefixing one of these. When I say, "I am going to
walk," the verbal or affirmative force is conveyed by the use of
to, meaning the same as do; and walk is employed merely as a
verbal name; that is, I assert that I shall do the act which I
name by the word walk, or the act of walking.
Perhaps such speculations as these will prove to be more curious
than profitable. If it be made clearly to appear, that, on
scientific principles, whenever the verbal name is unaccompanied by
a verbalizing adjunct, it is in the noun-state, and does not
express affirmation, still this theory would be very inconvenient in
practice.
I shall resume this subject in Lecture XI.
QUESTIONS ON THE PHILOSOPHICAL NOTES.
What has usually been the object of philosophical investigations of
language? (page 32.)—Do the syntactical dependances and connexions of
words depend on their original import?—Is the power of association
and custom efficient in changing the radical meaning of some
words?—Have words intrinsically a signification of their own; or is
their meaning inferential; i.e. such as custom has assigned to them?
(page 38.)—On what fact is based the true, philosophical principle of
classification?—Define philosophical grammar.—Which is supposed to be
the original part of speech?—How were the others formed from that?—How
many parts of speech may be recognised in a scientific development and
arrangement of the principles of our language?—Name them.—What
testimony have we that many things do not act? (page 43.)—Repeat some
of the arguments in favor of, and against, the principle which regards
all verbs as active.—In what moods are verbs used in their
noun-state? (page 48.)—Give examples.—What is said of the
terminations est, eth, s, and en, and of the words to and do?
REMARKS ON VERBS AND NOUNS.
You have already been informed, that verbs are the most important part
of speech in our language; and to convince you of their importance, I
now tell you, that you cannot express a thought, or communicate an
idea, without making use of a verb, either expressed or implied. Verbs
express, not only the state or manner of being, but, likewise, all
the different actions and movements of all creatures and things,
whether animate or inanimate. As yet I have given you only a partial
description of this sort of words; but when you are better prepared to
comprehend the subject, I will explain all their properties, and show
you the proper manner of using them.
A word that is generally a noun, sometimes becomes a verb; and a
verb is frequently used as a noun. These changes depend on the sense
which the word conveys; or, rather, on the office it performs in the
sentence; that is the manner in which it is applied to things. For
instance, glory is generally a noun; as "The glory of God's throne."
But if I say, I glory in religion; or, He glories in wickedness, the
word glory becomes a verb. The love of man is inconstant. In this
sentence, love is a noun; in the next, it is a verb: They love
virtue. He walks swiftly; Scavengers sweep the streets; The ship
sails well. In these phrases, the words walks, sweep, and sails,
are verbs; in the following they are nouns: Those are pleasant walks;
He takes a broad sweep; The ship lowered her sails.
Thus you see, it is impossible for you to become a grammarian without exercising your judgment. If you have sufficient resolution to do this, you will, in a short time, perfectly understand the nature and office of the different parts of speech, their various properties and relations, and the rules of syntax that apply to them; and, in a few weeks, be able to speak and write accurately. But you must not take things for granted, without examining their propriety and correctness. No. You are not a mere automaton, or boy-machine; but a rational being. You ought, therefore, to think methodically, to reason soundly, and to investigate every principle critically. Don't be afraid to think for yourself. You know not the high destiny that awaits you. You know not the height to which you may soar in the scale of intellectual existence. Go on, then, boldly, and with unyielding perseverance; and if you do not gain admittance into the temple of fame, strive, at all hazards, to drink of the fountain which gurgles from its base.
EXERCISES IN FALSE SYNTAX.
NOTE 1, TO RULE 12. A noun in the possessive case, should always be distinguished by the apostrophe, or mark of elision; as, The nation's glory.
That girls book is cleaner than those boys books.
Not correct, because the nouns girls and boys are both in the
possessive case, and, therefore, require the apostrophe, by which they
should be distinguished; thus, "girl's, boys'" according to the
preceding NOTE. [Repeat the note.]
Thy ancestors virtue is not thine.
If the writer of this sentence meant one ancestor, he should have
inserted the apostrophe after r, thus, "ancestor's"; if more than
one, after s, thus, "ancestors' virtue;" but, by neglecting to place
the apostrophe, he has left his meaning ambiguous, and we cannot
ascertain it. This, and a thousand other mistakes you will often meet
with, demonstrate the truth of my declaration, namely, that "without the
knowledge and application of grammar rules, you will often speak and
write in such a manner as not to be understood." You may now turn back
and re-examine the "illustration" of Rules 3, 4, and 12, on page 52, and
then correct the following examples about five times over.
A mothers tenderness and a fathers care, are natures gift's for mans advantage. Wisdoms precept's form the good mans interest and happiness. They suffer for conscience's sake. He is reading Cowpers poems. James bought Johnsons Dictionary.
RULE 4. A verb must agree with its nominative in number and person.
Those boys improves rapidly. The men labors in the field. Nothing delight some persons. Thou shuns the light. He dare not do it. They reads well.
I know you can correct these sentences without a rule, for they all have
a harsh sound, which offends the ear. I wish you, however, to adopt the
habit of correcting errors by applying rules; for, by-and-by, you will
meet with errors in composition which you cannot correct, if you are
ignorant of the application of grammar rules.
Now let us clearly understand this 4th Rule. Recollect, it applies to
the verb and not to the noun; therefore, in these examples the verb is
ungrammatical. The noun boys, in the first sentence, is of the third
person plural, and the verb improves is of the third person
singular; therefore, Rule 4th is violated, because the verb dues not
agree with its nominative in number. It should be, "boys improve."
The verb would then be plural, and agree with its nominative according
to the Rule. In the fourth sentence, the verb does not agree in person
with its nominative. Thou is of the second person, and shuns is of
the third. It should be, "thou shunnest," &c. You may correct the
other sentences, and, likewise, the following exercises in
FALSE SYNTAX.
A variety of pleasing objects charm the eye. The number of inhabitants of the United States exceed nine millions. Nothing but vain and foolish pursuits delight some persons.
In vain our flocks and fields increase our store,
When our abundance make us wish for more.
When our abundance make us wish for more.
While ever and anon, there falls
Huge heaps of hoary, moulder'd walls.
Huge heaps of hoary, moulder'd walls.
LECTURE III.
OF ARTICLES.
An article is a word prefixed to nouns to limit their signification; as,
a man, the woman.
There are only two articles, a or an, and the. A or an is called
the indefinite article. The is called the definite article.
The indefinite article limits the noun to one of a kind, but to no
particular one; as, a house.
The definite article generally limits the noun to a particular object,
or collection of objects; as, the house, the men.
The small claims of the article to a separate rank as a distinct part of speech, ought not to be admitted in a scientific classification of words. A and the, this and that, ten, few, and fourth, and many other words, are used to restrict, vary, or define the signification of the nouns to which they are joined. They might, therefore, with propriety, be ranked under the general head of Restrictives, Indexes, or Defining Adjectives. But, as there is a marked distinction in their particular meaning and application, each class requires a separate explanation. Hence, no practical advantage would be gained, by rejecting their established classification, as articles, numerals, and demonstratives, and by giving them new names. The character and application of a and the can be learned as soon when they are styled articles, as when they are denominated specifying or defining adjectives.
The history of this part of speech is very brief. As there are but two articles, a or an and the, you will know them wherever they occur.
A noun used without an article, or any other restrictive, is taken in its general sense; as, "Fruit is abundant;" "Gold is heavy;" "Man is born to trouble" Here we mean, fruit and gold in general; and all men, or mankind.
When we wish to limit the meaning of the noun to one object, but to no particular one, we employ a or an. If I say, "Give me a pen;" "Bring me an apple;" you are at liberty to fetch any pen or any apple you please. A or an, then, is indefinite, because it leaves the meaning of the noun to which it is applied, as far as regards the person spoken to, vague, or indeterminate; that is, not definite. But when reference is made to a particular object, we employ the, as, "Give me the pen;" "Bring me the apple, or the apple." When such a requisition is made, you are not at liberty to bring any pen or apple you please, but you must fetch the particular pen or apple to which you know me to refer. The is, therefore, called the definite article.
"A star appears." Here, the star referred to, may be known as a particular star, definite, and distinguished from all others, in the mind of the speaker; but to the hearer, it is left, among the thousands that bedeck the vault of heaven, undistinguished and indefinite. But when the star has previously been made the subject of discourse, it becomes, in the minds of both speaker and hearer a definite object, and he says, "The star appears;" that is, that particular star about which we were discoursing.
"Solomon built a temple." Did he build any temple, undetermined which? No; it was a particular temple, pre-eminently distinguished from all others. But how does it become a definite object in the mind of the hearer? Certainly, not by the phrase, "a temple," which indicates any temple, leaving it altogether undetermined which; but supposing the person addressed was totally unacquainted with the fact asserted, and it becomes to him, in one respect only, a definite and particular temple, by means of the associated words, "Solomon built;" that is, by the use of these words in connexion with the others, the hearer gets the idea of a temple distinguished as the one erected by Solomon. If the speaker were addressing one whom he supposed to be unacquainted with the fact related, he might make the temple referred to a still more definite object in the mind of the hearer by a farther explanation of it; thus, "Solomon built a temple on mount Zion; and that was the temple to which the Jews resorted to worship."
"The lunatic, the poet, and the lover,
"Are of imagination all compact."
"The horse is a noble animal;" "The dog is a faithful creature;" "The wind blows;" "The wolves were howling in the woods." In these examples, we do not refer to any particular lunatics, poets, lovers, horses, dogs, winds, wolves, and woods, but we refer to these particular classes of things, in contradistinction to other objects or classes. The phrase, "Neither the one nor the other," is an idiom of the language.