Ride—Drive. Fashion, both in England and in this country, says that we must always use the second of these words when we speak of going out in a carriage, although ride means, according to all the lexicographers, "to be carried on a horse or other animal, or in any kind of vehicle or carriage."

Rolling. The use of this participial adjective in the sense of undulating is said to be an Americanism. Whether an Americanism or not, it would seem to be quite unobjectionable.

Rubbers. This word, in common with gums and arctics, is often, in defiance of good taste, used for overshoes.

Saw. The imperfect tense of the verb to see is carelessly used by good writers and speakers when they should use the perfect; thus, "I never saw anything like it before," when the meaning intended is, "I have never [in all my life] seen anything like it before [until now]." We say properly, "I never saw anything like it when I was in Paris"; but, when the period of time referred to extends to the time when the statement is made, it must be have seen. Like mistakes are made in the use of other verbs, but they are hardly as common; yet we often hear such expressions as, "I was never in Philadelphia," "I never went to the theatre in my life," instead of have been in Philadelphia, and have gone to the theatre.

Section. The use of this word for region, neighborhood, vicinity, part (of the town or country), is said to be a Westernism. A section is a division of the public lands containing six hundred and forty acres.

Seem—Appear. Graham, in his "English Synonymes," says of these two words: "What seems is in the mind; what appears is external. Things appear as they present themselves to the eye; they seem as they are represented to the mind. Things appear good or bad, as far as we can judge by our senses. Things seem right or wrong as we determine by reflection. Perception and sensation have to do with appearing; reflection and comparison, with seeming. When things are not what they appear, our senses are deceived; when things are not what they seem, our judgment is at fault."

Seraphim. This is the plural of seraph. "One of the seraphim." "To Thee cherubim and seraphim continually do cry." See Cherubim.

Set—Sit. The former of these two verbs is often incorrectly used for the latter. To set; imperfect tense, set; participles, setting, set. To sit; imperfect tense, sat; participles, sitting, sat. To set means to put, to place, to plant; to put in any place, condition, state, or posture. We say, to set about, to set against, to set out, to set going, to set apart, to set aside, to set down (to put in writing). To sit means to rest on the lower part of the body, to repose on a seat, to perch, as a bird, etc. We say, "Sit up," i. e., rise from lying to sitting; "We will sit up," i. e., will not go to bed; "Sit down," i. e., place yourself on a seat. We sit a horse and we sit for a portrait. Garments sit well or otherwise. Congress sits, so does a court. "I have sat up long enough." "I have set it on the table." We set down figures, but we sit down on the ground. We set a hen, and a hen sits on eggs. We should say, therefore, "as cross as a sitting [not, as a setting] hen."

Settle. This word is often inelegantly, if not incorrectly, used for pay. We pay our way, pay our fare, pay our hotel-bills, and the like. See, also, Locate.

Shall and Will. The nice distinctions that should be made between these two auxiliaries are, in some parts of the English-speaking world, often disregarded, and that, too, by persons of high culture. The proper use of shall and will can much better be learned from example than from precept. Many persons who use them, and also should and would, with well-nigh unerring correctness, do so unconsciously; it is simply habit with them, and they, though their culture may be limited, will receive a sort of verbal shock from Biddy's inquiry, "Will I put the kettle on, ma'am?" when your Irish or Scotch countess would not be in the least disturbed by it.

Shimmy. "We derive from the French language our word chemise—pronounced shemmeeze. In French, the word denotes a man's shirt, as well as the under garment worn by women. In this country, it is often pronounced by people who should know better—shimmy. Rather than call it shimmy, resume the use of the old English words shift and smock. Good usage unqualifiedly condemns gents, pants, kids, gums, and shimmy."—"Vulgarisms and Other Errors of Speech."

Should. See Ought.

Sick—Ill. These words are often used indiscriminately. Sick, however, is the stronger word, and generally the better word to use. Ill is used in England more than with us: there sick is generally limited to the expressing of nausea; as, "sick at the stomach."

Signature, over or under? A man writes under, not over, a signature. Charles Dickens wrote under the signature of "Boz"; Mr. Samuel L. Clemens writes under the signature of "Mark Twain." The reason given in Webster's Dictionary for preferring the use of under is absurd; viz., that the paper is under the hand in writing. The expression is elliptical, and has no reference to the position either of the signature or of the paper. "Given under my hand and seal" means "under the guarantee of my signature and my seal." "Under his own signature" or "name" means "under his own character, without disguise." "Under the signature of Boz" means "under the disguise of the assumed name Boz." We always write under a certain date, though the date be placed, as it often is, at the bottom of the page.

Signs. In one of the principal business streets of New York there is a sign which reads, "German Lace Store." Now, whether this is a store that makes a specialty of German laces, or whether it is a store where all kinds of lace are sold, kept by a German or after the German fashion, is something that the sign doubtless means to tell us, but, owing to the absence of a hyphen ("German-Lace Store," or "German Lace-Store"), does not tell us. Nothing is more common than erroneous punctuation in signs, and gross mistakes by the unlettered in the wording of the simplest printed matter.

The bad taste, incorrect punctuation, false grammar, and ridiculous nonsense met with on signs and placards, and in advertisements, are really surprising. An advertisement tells us that "a pillow which assists in procuring sleep is a benediction"; a placard, that they have "Charlotte de Russe" for sale within, which means, if it means anything, that they have for sale somebody or something called Charlotte of Russian; and, then, on how many signs do we see the possessive case when the plural number is intended!

Simile. In rhetoric, a direct and formal comparison is called a simile. It is generally denoted by like, as, or so; as,

"As no roads are so rough as those that have just been mended, so no sinners are so intolerant as those who have just turned saints."—"Lacon."

Sin. See Crime.

Since—Ago. Dr. Johnson says of these two adverbs: "Reckoning time toward the present, we use since; as, 'It is a year since it happened': reckoning from the present, we use ago; as, 'It is a year ago.' This is not, perhaps, always observed."

Dr. Johnson's rule will hardly suffice as a sure guide. Since is often used for ago, but ago never for since. Ago is derived from the participle agone, while since comes from a preposition. We say properly, "not long" or "some time ago [agone]." Since requires a verbal clause after it; as, "Since I saw you"; "Since he was here."

Sing. Of the two forms—sang and sung—for the imperfect tense of the verb to sing, the former—sang—is to be preferred.

Sit. See Set.

Slang. The slang that is heard among respectable people is made up of genuine words, to which an arbitrary meaning is given. It is always low, generally coarse, and not unfrequently foolish. With the exception of cant, there is nothing that is more to be shunned. We sometimes meet with persons of considerable culture who interlard their talk with slang expressions, but it is safe to assert that they are always persons of coarse natures.

Smart. See Clever.

Smell of. See Taste of.

So. See As; Such; That.

So much so. "The shipments by the coast steamers are very large, so much so [large?] as to tax the capacity of the different lines."—"Telegram," September 19, 1881. The sentence should be, "The shipments by the coast steamers are very large, so large as to tax," etc.

Solecism. In rhetoric, a solecism is defined as an offense against the rules of grammar by the use of words in a wrong construction; false syntax.

"Modern grammarians designate by solecism any word or expression which does not agree with the established usage of writing or speaking. But, as customs change, that which at one time is considered a solecism may at another be regarded as correct language. A solecism, therefore, differs from a barbarism, inasmuch as the latter consists in the use of a word or expression which is altogether contrary to the spirit of the language, and can, properly speaking, never become established as correct language."—"Penny Cyclopædia." See, also, Barbarism.

Some. This word is not unfrequently misused for somewhat; thus, "She is some better to-day." It is likewise often misused for about; thus, "I think it is some ten miles from here": read, "about ten miles from here."

Specialty. This form has within a recent period been generally substituted for speciality. There is no apparent reason, however, why the i should be dropped, since it is required by the etymology of the word, and is retained in nearly all other words of the same formation.

Specious Fallacy. A fallacy is a sophism, a logical artifice, a deceitful or false appearance; while specious means having the appearance of truth, plausible. Hence we see that the very essence of a fallacy is its speciousness. We may very properly say that a fallacy is more or less specious, but we can not properly say that a fallacy is specious, since without speciousness we can have no fallacies.

Splendid. This poor word is used by the gentler sex to qualify well-nigh everything that has their approval, from a sugar-plum to the national capitol. In fact, splendid and awful seem to be about the only adjectives some of our superlative young women have in their vocabularies.

Standpoint. This is a word to which many students of English seriously object, and among them are the editors of some of our daily papers, who do not allow it to appear in their columns. The phrase to which no one objects is, point of view.

State. This word, which properly means to make known specifically, to explain particularly, is often misused for say. When say says all one wants to say, why use a more pretentious word?

Stop. "Where are you stopping?" "At the Metropolitan." The proper word to use here is staying. To stop means to cease to go forward, to leave off; and to stay means to abide, to tarry, to dwell, to sojourn. We stay, not stop, at home, at a hotel, or with a friend, as the case may be.

Storm. Many persons indulge in a careless use of this word, using it when they mean to say simply that it rains or snows. To a storm a violent commotion of the atmosphere is indispensable. A very high wind constitutes a storm, though it be dry.

Straightway. Here is a good Anglo-Saxon word of two syllables whose place, without any good reason, is being usurped by the Latin word immediately, of five syllables.

Street. We live in, not on—meet our acquaintances in, not on—things occur in, not on—houses are built in, not on, the street, and so forth.

Style. This is a term that is used to characterize the peculiarities that distinguish a writer or a composition. Correctness and clearness properly belong to the domain of diction; simplicity, conciseness, gravity, elegance, diffuseness, floridity, force, feebleness, coarseness, etc., belong to the domain of style.

Subjunctive Mood. This mood is unpopular with not a few now-a-day grammarians. One says that it is rapidly falling into disuse; that, in fact, there is good reason to suppose it will soon become obsolete. Another says that it would, perhaps, be better to abolish it entirely, as its use is a continual source of dispute among grammarians and of perplexity to schools. Another says that it is a universal stumbling-block; that nobody seems to understand it, although almost everybody attempts to use it.

That the subjunctive mood is much less used now than it was a hundred years ago is certain, but that it is obsolescent is very far from certain. It would not be easy, I think, to find a single contemporary writer who does not use it. That it is not always easy to determine what form of it we should employ is very true; but if we are justified in abolishing it altogether, as Mr. Chandler suggests, because its correct use is not always easy, then we are also justified in abolishing the use of shall and will, and of the prepositions, for surely their right use is likewise at times most puzzling. Meanwhile, most persons will think it well to learn to use the subjunctive mood properly. With that object in view, one can not, perhaps, do better than to attend to what Dr. Alexander Bain, Professor of Logic in the University of Aberdeen, says upon the subject. In Professor Bain's "Higher English Grammar" we find:

"In subordinate clauses.—In a clause expressing a condition, and introduced by a conjunction of condition, the verb is sometimes, but not always, in the subjunctive mood: 'If I be able,' 'if I were strong enough,' 'if thou should come.'

"The subjunctive inflexions have been wholly lost. The sense that something is wanting appears to have led many writers to use indicative forms where the subjunctive might be expected. The tendency appears strongest in the case of 'wert,' which is now used as indicative (for 'wast') only in poetical or elevated language.

"The following is the rule given for the use of the subjunctive mood:

"When in a conditional clause it is intended to express doubt or denial, use the subjunctive mood.[30] 'If I were sure of what you tell me, I would go.'

"When the conditional clause is affirmative and certain, the verb is indicative: 'If that is the case' (as you now tell me, and as I believe), 'I can understand you.' This is equivalent to a clause of assumption, or supposition: 'That being the case,' 'inasmuch as that is the case,' etc.

"As futurity is by its nature uncertain, the subjunctive is extensively used for future conditionality: 'If it rain, we shall not be able to go'; 'if I be well'; 'if he come shortly'; 'if thou return at all in peace'; 'though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.' These events are all in the uncertain future, and are put in the subjunctive.[31]

"A future result or consequence is expressed by the subjunctive in such instances as these: 'I will wait till he return'; 'no fear lest dinner cool'; 'thou shalt stone him with stones, that he die'; 'take heed lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting.'

"Uncertainty as to a past event may arise from our own ignorance, in which case the subjunctive is properly employed, and serves the useful purpose of distinguishing our ignorance from our knowledge. 'If any of my readers has looked with so little attention upon the world around him'; this would mean—'as I know that they have.' The meaning intended is probably—'as I do not know whether they have or not,' and therefore the subjunctive 'have' is preferable. 'If ignorance is bliss,' which I (ironically) admit. Had Gray been speaking seriously, he would have said, 'if ignorance be bliss,' he himself dissenting from the proposition.

"A wish contrary to the fact takes the subjunctive: 'I wish he were here' (which he is not).

"An intention not yet carried out is also subjunctive: 'The sentence is that you be imprisoned.'

"The only correct form of the future subjunctive is—'if I should.' We may say, 'I do not know whether or not I shall come'; but 'if I shall come,' expressing a condition, is not an English construction. 'If he will' has a real meaning, as being the present subjunctive of the verb 'will': 'if he be willing,' 'if he have the will.' It is in accordance with good usage to express a future subjunctive meaning by a present tense; but in that case the form must be strictly subjunctive, and not indicative. 'If any member absents himself, he shall forfeit a penny for the use of the club'; this ought to be either 'absent,' or 'should absent.' 'If thou neglectest or doest unwillingly what I command thee, I will rack thee with old cramps'; better, 'if thou neglect or do unwillingly,' or 'if thou should neglect.' The indicative would be justified by the speaker's belief that the supposition is sure to turn out to be the fact.

"The past subjunctive may imply denial; as, 'if the book were in the library (as it is not), it should be at your service.'

"'If the book be in the library,' means, 'I do not know whether it be or not.' We have thus the power of discriminating three different suppositions. 'If the book is in the library' (as I know it is); 'if it be' (I am uncertain); 'if it were' (as I know it is not). So, 'if it rains,' 'if it rain,' 'if it rained.' 'Nay, and the villains march wide between the legs, as if they had gyves on,' implying that they had not.

"The same power of the past tense is exemplified in 'if I could, I would,' which means, 'I can not'; whereas, 'if I can, I will,' means 'I do not know.'

"The past subjunctive may be expressed by an inversion: 'Had I the power,' 'were I as I have been.'

"In Principal Clauses.—The principal clause in a conditional statement also takes the subjunctive form when it refers to what is future and contingent, and when it refers to what is past and uncertain, or denied. 'If he should try, he would succeed'; 'if I had seen him, I should have asked him.'

"The usual forms of the subjunctive in the principal clause are 'would,' 'should,' 'would have,' 'should have'; and it is to be noted that in this application the second persons take the inflexional ending of the indicative: 'shouldst,' 'wouldst.'

"The English idiom appears sometimes to permit the use of an indicative where we should expect a subjunctive form. 'Many acts, that had been otherwise blamable, were employed'; 'I had fainted, unless I had believed,' etc.

"In 'else' there is implied a conditional clause that would suit 'lie'; or the present may be regarded as a more vivid form of expression. 'Had' may be indicative; just as we sometimes find pluperfect indicative for pluperfect subjunctive in the same circumstances in Latin. We may refer it to the general tendency, as already seen in the uses of 'could,' 'would,' 'should,' etc., to express conditionality by a past tense; or the indicative may be used as a more direct and vivid mode. 'Had' may be subjunctive; 'I had fainted' is, in construction, analogous to 'I should have fainted'; the word for futurity, 'shall,' not being necessary to the sense, is withdrawn, and its past inflexion transferred to 'have.' Compare Germ. würde haben and hätte."

In addition to the foregoing, we find in Professor Bain's "Composition Grammar" the following:

"The case most suited to the subjunctive is contingent futurity, or the expression of an event unknown absolutely, as being still in the future: 'If to-morrow be fine, I will walk with you.'

"'Unless I were prepared,' insinuates pretty strongly that I am or am not prepared, according to the manner of the principal clause.

"'I am to second Ion if he fail'; the failing is left quite doubtful. 'I should very imperfectly execute the task which I have undertaken if I were merely to treat of battles and sieges.' Macaulay thus implies that the scope of his work is to be wider than mere battles and sieges.

"The subjunctive appears in some other constructions. 'I hope to see the exhibition before it close'; 'wait till he return'; 'thou shall stand by the river's brink against he come'; 'take heed lest passion sway thy judgment'; 'speak to me, though it be in wrath'; 'if he smite him with an instrument of iron so that he die, he is a murderer'; 'beware this night that thou cross not my footsteps' (Shelley).

"Again. 'Whatever this be'; 'whoever he be'; 'howe'er it be' (Tennyson); and such like.

"The Future Subjunctive is given in our scheme of the verb as 'should' in all persons: 'If I should, if thou should, if he should.' In old English, we have 'thou shouldst': 'if thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquities.'

"An inverted conditional form has taken deep root in our language, and may be regarded as an elegant and forcible variety. While dispensing with the conjunction, it does not cause ambiguity; nevertheless, conditionality is well marked.

"'If you should abandon your Penelope and your home for Calypso, ——': 'should you abandon ——.'

"The following examples are given by Mätzner:

"'Varney's communications, be they what they might, were operating in his favor.'—Scott.

"'Governing persons, were they never so insignificant intrinsically, have for most part plenty of Memoir-writers.'—Carlyle.

"'Even were I disposed, I could not gratify the reader.'—Warren.

"'Bring them back to me, cost what it may.'—Coleridge, 'Wallenstein.'

"'And will you, nill you, I will marry you.'—'Taming of the Shrew.'

"Were is used in the principal clause for 'should be' or 'would be.'[32]

"'He were (=would be) no lion, were not Romans hinds.'

"Had is sometimes used in the principal clause for 'should have' or 'would have.'[33]

"'Had I known this before we set out, I think I had (= would have) remained at home.'—Scott.

"'Had better, rather, best, as lief, as well, etc.,' is a form that is explained under this heading. 'Had' stands for 'would have.' The exploded notion that 'had' is a corrupted 'would' must be guarded against.

"'I had as lief not be.' That is—'I would as lief have not (to) be' = 'I would as willingly (or as soon) have non-existence.'

"'Had you rather Cæsar were living——?' 'Would you rather have (would you prefer that) Cæsar were living?'

"'He had better reconsider the matter' is 'he would better have (to) reconsider the matter.'

"Let us compare this form with another that appears side by side with it in early writers. (Cp. Lat. 'habeo' and 'mihi est.')

"The construction of 'had' is thus illustrated in Chaucer, as in—Nonne Prestes Tale, 300:

"Compare now:

"Here 'were' is unquestionably for 'would be'; and the whole expression might be given by 'had,' thus: 'Ah, I hadde levere ——,' '(to) loose' and '(to) falle,' changing from subjects of 'were' to objects of 'hadde.'

"So, in the Chaucer example above, if we substitute 'be' for 'have,' we shall get the same meaning, thus: 'By God, me were levere ——.' The interchange helps us to see more clearly that 'hadde' is to be explained as subjunctive for 'would have.'" See Indicative and Subjunctive.

Such. "I have never before seen such a large ox." By a little transposing of the words of this sentence, we have, "I have never before seen an ox such large," which makes it quite clear that we should say so large an ox and not such a large ox. As proof that this error in the use of such is common, we find in Mr. George Washington Moon's "Dean's English and Bad English," the sentence, "With all due deference to such a high authority on such a very important matter." With a little transposing, this sentence is made to read, "With all due deference to an authority such high on a matter such very important." It is clear that the sentence should read, "With all due deference to so high an authority on so very important a matter." The phrases, such a handsome, such a lovely, such a long, such narrow, etc., are incorrect, and should be so handsome, so lovely, so long, and so on.

Summon. This verb comes in for its full share of mauling. We often hear such expressions as "I will summons him," instead of summon him; and "He was summonsed," instead of summoned.

Superfluous Words. "Whenever I try to write well, I always find I can do it." "I shall have finished by the latter end of the week." "Iron sinks down in water." "He combined together all the facts." "My brother called on me, and we both took a walk." "I can do it equally as well as he." "We could not forbear from doing it." "Before I go, I must first be paid." "We were compelled to return back." "We forced them to retreat back fully a mile." "His conduct was approved of by everybody." "They conversed together for a long time." "The balloon rose up very rapidly." "Give me another one." "Come home as soon as ever you can." "Who finds him in money?" "He came in last of all." "He has got all he can carry." "What have you got?" "No matter what I have got." "I have got the headache." "Have you got any brothers?" "No, but I have got a sister." All the words in italics are superfluous.

Superior. This word is not unfrequently used for able, excellent, gifted; as, "She is a superior woman," meaning an excellent woman; "He is a superior man," meaning an able man. The expression an inferior man is not less objectionable.

Supposititious. This word is properly used in the sense of put by a trick into the place or character belonging to another, spurious, counterfeit, not genuine; and improperly in the sense of conjectural, hypothetical, imaginary, presumptive; as, "This is a supposititious case," meaning an imaginary or presumptive case. "The English critic derived his materials from a stray copy of some supposititious indexes devised by one of the 'Post' reporters."—"Nation." Here is a correct use of the word.

Swosh. There is a kind of ill-balanced brain in which the reflective and the imaginative very much outweight the perceptive. Men to whom this kind of an organization has been given generally have active minds, but their minds never present anything clearly. To their mental vision all is ill-defined, chaotic. They see everything in a haze. Whether such men talk or write, they are verbose, illogical, intangible, will-o'-the-wispish. Their thoughts are phantomlike; like shadows, they continually escape their grasp. In their talk they will, after long dissertations, tell you that they have not said just what they would like to say; there is always a subtle, lurking something still unexpressed, which something is the real essence of the matter, and which your penetration is expected to divine. In their writings they are eccentric, vague, labyrinthine, pretentious, transcendental,[35] and frequently ungrammatical. These men, if write they must, should confine themselves to the descriptive; for when they enter the essayist's domain, which they are very prone to do, they write what I will venture to call swosh.

We find examples in plenty of this kind of writing in the essays of Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson. Indeed, the impartial critic who will take the trouble to examine any of Mr. Emerson's essays at all carefully, is quite sure to come to the conclusion that Mr. Emerson has seen everything he has ever made the subject of his essays very much as London is seen from the top of Saint Paul's in a fog.

Mr. Emerson's definition of Nature runs thus: "Philosophically considered, the universe is composed of Nature and the Soul. Strictly speaking, therefore, all that is separate from us, all which philosophy distinguishes from the Not Me—that is, both Nature and Art, and all other men, and my own body—must be ranked under this name 'Nature.' In enumerating the values of Nature and casting up their sum, I shall use the word in both senses—in its common and in its philosophical import. In inquiries so general as our present one, the inaccuracy is not material; no confusion of thought will occur. Nature, in the common sense, refers to essences unchanged by man: space, the air, the river, the leaf. Art is applied to the mixture of his will with the same things, as in a house, a canal, a picture, a statue. But his operations, taken together, are so insignificant—a little chipping, baking, patching, and washing—that in an impression so grand as that of the world on the human mind they do not vary the result."

In "Letters and Social Aims" Mr. Emerson writes: "Eloquence is the power to translate a truth into language perfectly intelligible to the person to whom you speak. He who would convince the worthy Mr. Dunderhead of any truth which Dunderhead does not see, must be a master of his art. Declamation is common; but such possession of thought as is here required, such practical chemistry as the conversion of a truth written in God's language into a truth in Dunderhead's language, is one of the most beautiful and cogent weapons that is forged in the shop of the Divine Artificer."

The first paragraph of Mr. Emerson's "Essay on Art" reads: "All departments of life at the present day—Trade, Politics, Letters, Science, or Religion—seem to feel, and to labor to express, the identity of their law. They are rays of one sun; they translate each into a new language the sense of the other. They are sublime when seen as emanations of a Necessity contradistinguished from the vulgar Fate by being instant and alive, and dissolving man, as well as his works, in its flowing beneficence. This influence is conspicuously visible in the principles and history of Art."

Another paragraph from Mr. Emerson's "Essay on Eloquence": "The orator, as we have seen, must be a substantial personality. Then, first, he must have power of statement—must have the fact, and know how to tell it. In a knot of men conversing on any subject, the person who knows most about it will have the ear of the company, if he wishes it, and lead the conversation, no matter what genius or distinction other men there present may have; and, in any public assembly, him who has the facts, and can and will state them, people will listen to, though he is otherwise ignorant, though he is hoarse and ungrateful, though he stutters and screams."

Mr. Emerson, in his "Essay on Prudence," writes: "There are all degrees of proficiency in knowledge of the world. It is sufficient to our present purpose to indicate three. One class live to the utility of the symbol, esteeming health and wealth a final good. Another class live above this mark to the beauty of the symbol, as the poet and artist, and the naturalist and man of science. A third class live above the beauty of the symbol to the beauty of the thing signified; these are wise men. The first class have common sense; the second, taste; and the third, spiritual perception. Once in a long time a man traverses the whole scale, and sees and enjoys the symbol solidly; then, also, has a clear eye for its beauty; and, lastly, whilst he pitches his tent on this sacred volcanic isle of nature, does not offer to build houses and barns thereon, reverencing the splendor of God which he sees bursting through each chink and cranny."

Those who are wont to accept others at their self-assessment and to see things through other people's eyes—and there are many such—are in danger of thinking this kind of writing very fine, when in fact it is not only the veriest swosh, but that kind of swosh that excites at least an occasional doubt with regard to the writer's sanity. We can make no greater mistake than to suppose that the reason we do not understand these rhetorical contortionists is because they are so subtle and profound. We understand them quite as well as they understand themselves. At their very best, they are but incoherent diluters of other men's ideas. They have but one thing to recommend them—honesty. They believe in themselves.

"Whatever is dark is deep. Stir a puddle, and it is deeper than a well."—Swift.

Synecdoche. The using of the name of a part for that of the whole, the name of the whole for that of a part, or the using of a definite number for an indefinite, is called, in rhetoric, synecdoche. "The bay was covered with sails"; i. e., with ships. "The man was old, careworn, and gray"; i. e., literally, his hair, not the man, was gray. "Nine tenths of every man's happiness depends on the reception he meets with in the world." "He had seen seventy winters." "Thus spoke the tempter": here the part of the character is named that suits the occasion.

"His roof was at the service of the outcast; the unfortunate ever found a welcome at his threshold."

Take. I copy from the "London Queen": "The verb to take is open to being considered a vulgar verb when used in reference to dinner, tea, or to refreshments of any kind. 'Will you take' is not considered comme il faut; the verb in favor for the offering of civilities being to have." According to "The Queen," then, we must say, "Will you have some dinner, tea, coffee, wine, fish, beef, salad," etc.

Taste of. The redundant of, often used, in this country, in connection with the transitive verbs to taste and to smell, is a Yankeeism. We taste or smell a thing, not taste of nor smell of a thing. The neuter verbs to taste and to smell are often followed by of. "If butter tastes of brass." "For age but tastes of pleasures."