CHAPTER X.

OF GRAMMATICAL DEFINITIONS.

"Scientiam autem nusquam esse censebant, nisi in animi motionibus atque rationibus: quâ de causâ definitiones rerum probabant, et has ad omnia, de quibus disceptabatur, adhibebant."—CICERONIS Academica, Lib. i, 9.

1. "The first and highest philosophy," says Puffendorf, "is that which delivers the most accurate and comprehensive definitions of things." Had all the writers on English grammar been adepts in this philosophy, there would have been much less complaint of the difficulty and uncertainty of the study. "It is easy," says Murray, "to advance plausible objections against almost every definition, rule, and arrangement of grammar."—Gram., 8vo, p. 59. But, if this is true, as regards his, or any other work, the reason, I am persuaded, is far less inherent in the nature of the subject than many have supposed.[64] Objectionable definitions and rules are but evidences of the ignorance and incapacity of him who frames them. And if the science of grammar has been so unskillfully treated that almost all its positions may be plausibly impugned, it is time for some attempt at a reformation of the code. The language is before us, and he who knows most about it, can best prescribe the rules which we ought to observe in the use of it. But how can we expect children to deduce from a few particulars an accurate notion of general principles and their exceptions, where learned doctors have so often faltered? Let the abettors of grammatical "induction" answer.

2. Nor let it be supposed a light matter to prescribe with certainty the principles of grammar. For, what is requisite to the performance? To know certainly, in the first place, what is the best usage. Nor is this all. Sense and memory must be keen, and tempered to retain their edge and hold, in spite of any difficulties which the subject may present. To understand things exactly as they are; to discern the differences by which they may be distinguished, and the resemblances by which they ought to be classified; to know, through the proper evidences of truth, that our ideas, or conceptions, are rightly conformable to the nature, properties, and relations, of the objects of which we think; to see how that which is complex may be resolved into its elements, and that which is simple may enter into combination; to observe how that which is consequent may be traced to its cause, and that which is regular be taught by rule; to learn from the custom of speech the proper connexion between words and ideas, so as to give to the former a just application, to the latter an adequate expression, and to things a just description; to have that penetration which discerns what terms, ideas, or things, are definable, and therefore capable of being taught, and what must be left to the teaching of nature: these are the essential qualifications for him who would form good definitions; these are the elements of that accuracy and comprehensiveness of thought, to which allusion has been made, and which are characteristic of "the first and highest philosophy."

3. Again, with reference to the cultivation of the mind, I would add: To observe accurately the appearances of things, and the significations of words; to learn first principles first, and proceed onward in such a manner that every new truth may help to enlighten and strengthen the understanding; and thus to comprehend gradually, according to our capacity, whatsoever may be brought within the scope of human intellect:—to do these things, I say, is, to ascend by sure steps, so far as we may, from the simplest elements of science—which, in fact, are our own, original, undefinable notices of things—towards the very topmost height of human wisdom and knowledge. The ancient saying, that truth lies hid, or in the bottom of a well, must not be taken without qualification; for "the first and highest philosophy" has many principles which even a child may understand. These several suggestions, the first of which the Baron de Puffendorf thought not unworthy to introduce his great work on the Law of Nature and of Nations, the reader, if he please, may bear in mind, as he peruses the following digest of the laws and usages of speech.

4. "Definitions," says Duncan, in his Elements of Logic, "are intended to make known the meaning of words standing for complex ideas;[65] and were we always careful to form those ideas exactly in our minds, and copy our definitions from that appearance, much of the confusion and obscurity complained of in languages might be prevented."—P. 70. Again he says: "The writings of the mathematicians are a clear proof, how much the advancement of human knowledge depends upon a right use of definitions."—P. 72. Mathematical science has been supposed to be, in its own nature, that which is best calculated to develop and strengthen the reasoning faculty; but, as speech is emphatically the discourse of reason, I am persuaded, that had the grammarians been equally clear and logical in their instructions, their science would never have been accounted inferior in this respect. Grammar is perhaps the most comprehensive of all studies; but it is chiefly owing to the unskillfulness of instructors, and to the errors and defects of the systems in use, that it is commonly regarded as the most dry and difficult.

5. "Poor Scaliger (who well knew what a definition should be) from his own melancholy experience exclaimed—'Nihil infelicius grammatico definitore!' Nothing is more unhappy than the grammatical definer."—Tooke's Diversions, Vol. i, p. 238. Nor do our later teachers appear to have been more fortunate in this matter. A majority of all the definitions and rules contained in the great multitude of English grammars which I have examined, are, in some respect or other, erroneous. The nature of their multitudinous faults, I must in general leave to the discernment of the reader, except the passages be such as may be suitably selected for examples of false syntax. Enough, however, will be exhibited, in the course of this volume, to make the foregoing allegation credible; and of the rest a more accurate judgement may perhaps be formed, when they shall have been compared with what this work will present as substitutes. The importance of giving correct definitions to philological terms, and of stating with perfect accuracy whatsoever is to be learned as doctrine, has never been duly appreciated. The grand source of the disheartening difficulties encountered by boys in the study of grammar, lies in their ignorance of the meaning of words. This cause of embarrassment is not to be shunned and left untouched; but, as far as possible, it ought to be removed. In teaching grammar, or indeed any other science, we cannot avoid the use of many terms to which young learners may have attached no ideas. Being little inclined or accustomed to reflection, they often hear, read, or even rehearse from memory, the plainest language that can be uttered, and yet have no very distinct apprehension of what it means. What marvel then, that in a study abounding with terms taken in a peculiar or technical sense, many of which, in the common manuals, are either left undefined, or are explained but loosely or erroneously, they should often be greatly puzzled, and sometimes totally discouraged?

6. Simple ideas are derived, not from teaching, but from sensation or consciousness; but complex ideas, or the notions which we have of such things as consist of various parts, or such as stand in any known relations, are definable. A person can have no better definition of heat, or of motion, than what he will naturally get by moving towards a fire. Not so of our complex or general ideas, which constitute science. The proper objects of scientific instruction consist in those genuine perceptions of pure mind, which form the true meaning of generic names, or common nouns; and he who is properly qualified to teach, can for the most part readily tell what should be understood by such words. But are not many teachers too careless here? For instance: a boy commencing the process of calculation, is first told, that, "Arithmetic is the art of computing by numbers," which sentence he partly understands; but should he ask his teacher, "What is a number, in arithmetic?" what answer will he get? Were Goold Brown so asked, he would simply say, "A number, in arithmetic, is an expression that tells how many;" for every expression that tells how many, is a number in arithmetic, and nothing else is. But as no such definition is contained in the books,[66] there are ten chances to one, that, simple as the matter is, the readiest master you shall find, will give an erroneous answer. Suppose the teacher should say, "That is a question which I have not thought of; turn to your dictionary." The boy reads from Dr. Webster: "NUMBER—the designation of a unit in reference to other units, or in reckoning, counting, enumerating."—"Yes," replies the master, "that is it; Dr. Webster is unrivalled in giving definitions." Now, has the boy been instructed, or only puzzled? Can he conceive how the number five can be a unit? or how the word five, the figure 5, or the numeral letter V, is "the designation of a unit?" He knows that each of these is a number, and that the oral monosyllable five is the same number, in an other form; but is still as much at a loss for a proper answer to his question, as if he had never seen either schoolmaster or dictionary. So is it with a vast number of the simplest things in grammar.

7. Since what we denominate scientific terms, are seldom, if ever, such as stand for ideas simple and undefinable; and since many of those which represent general ideas, or classes of objects, may be made to stand for more or fewer things, according to the author's notion of classification; it is sufficiently manifest that the only process by which instruction can effectually reach the understanding of the pupil and remove the difficulties spoken of, is that of delivering accurate definitions. These are requisite for the information and direction of the learner; and these must be thoroughly impressed upon his mind, as the only means by which he can know exactly how much and what he is to understand by our words. The power which we possess, of making known all our complex or general ideas of things by means of definitions, is a faculty wisely contrived in the nature of language, for the increase and spread of science; and, in the hands of the skillful, it is of vast avail to these ends. It is "the first and highest philosophy," instructing mankind, to think clearly and speak accurately; as well as to know definitely, in the unity and permanence of a general nature, those things which never could be known or spoken of as the individuals of an infinite and fleeting multitude.

8. And, without contradiction, the shortest and most successful way of teaching the young mind to distinguish things according to their proper differences, and to name or describe them aright, is, to tell in direct terms what they severally are. Cicero intimates that all instruction appealing to reason ought to proceed in this manner: "Omnis enim quse à ratione suscipitur de re aliqua institutio, debet à definitione proficisci, ut intelligatur quid sit id, de quo disputetur."—Off. Lib. i, p. 4. Literally thus: "For all instruction which from reason is undertaken concerning any thing, ought to proceed from a definition, that it may be understood what the thing is, about which the speaker is arguing." Little advantage, however, will be derived from any definition, which is not, as Quintilian would have it, "Lucida et succincta rei descriptio,"—"a clear and brief description of the thing."

9. Let it here be observed that scientific definitions are of things, and not merely of words; or if equally of words and things, they are rather of nouns than of the other parts of speech. For a definition, in the proper sense of the term, consists not in a mere change or explanation of the verbal sign, but in a direct and true answer to the question, What is such or such a thing? In respect to its extent, it must with equal exactness include every thing which comes under the name, and exclude every thing which does not come under the name: then will it perfectly serve the purpose for which it is intended. To furnish such definitions, (as I have suggested,) is work for those who are capable of great accuracy both of thought and expression. Those who would qualify themselves for teaching any particular branch of knowledge, should make it their first concern to acquire clear and accurate ideas of all things that ought to be embraced in their instructions. These ideas are to be gained, either by contemplation upon the things themselves as they are presented naturally, or by the study of those books in which they are rationally and clearly explained. Nor will such study ever be irksome to him whose generous desire after knowledge, is thus deservedly gratified.

10. But it must be understood, that although scientific definitions are said to be of things, they are not copied immediately from the real essence of the things, but are formed from the conceptions of the author's mind concerning that essence. Hence, as Duncan justly remarks, "A mistaken idea never fails to occasion a mistake also in the definition." Hence, too, the common distinction of the logicians, between definitions of the name and definitions of the thing, seems to have little or no foundation. The former term they applied to those definitions which describe the objects of pure intellection, such as triangles, and other geometrical figures; the latter, to those which define objects actually existing in external nature. The mathematical definitions, so noted for their certainty and completeness, have been supposed to have some peculiar preëminence, as belonging to the former class. But, in fact the idea of a triangle exists as substantively in the mind, as that of a tree, if not indeed more so; and if I define these two objects, my description will, in either case, be equally a definition both of the name and of the thing; but in neither, is it copied from any thing else than that notion which I have conceived, of the common properties of all triangles or of all trees.

11. Infinitives, and some other terms not called nouns, may be taken abstractly or substantively, so as to admit of what may be considered a regular definition; thus the question, "What is it to read?" is nearly the same as, "What is reading?" "What is it to be wise?" is little different from, "What is wisdom?" and a true answer might be, in either case, a true definition. Nor are those mere translations or explanations of words, with which our dictionaries and vocabularies abound, to be dispensed with in teaching: they prepare the student to read various authors with facility, and furnish him with a better choice of terms, when he attempts to write. And in making such choice, let him remember, that as affectation of hard words makes composition ridiculous, so the affectation of easy and common ones may make it unmanly. But not to digress. With respect to grammar, we must sometimes content ourselves with such explications of its customary terms, as cannot claim to be perfect definitions; for the most common and familiar things are not always those which it is the most easy to define. When Dr. Johnson was asked, "What is poetry?" he replied, "Why, sir, it is easier to tell what it is not. We all know what light is: but it is not easy to tell what it is."—Boswell's Life of Johnson, Vol. iii, p. 402. This was thought by the biographer to have been well and ingeniously said.

12. But whenever we encounter difficulties of this sort, it may be worth while to seek for their cause. If we find it, the understanding is no longer puzzled. Dr. Johnson seemed to his biographer, to show, by this ready answer, the acuteness of his wit and discernment. But did not the wit consist in adroitly excusing himself, by an illusory comparison? What analogy is there between the things which he compares? Of the difficulty of defining poetry, and the difficulty of defining light, the reasons are as different as are the two things themselves, poetry and light. The former is something so various and complex that it is hard to distinguish its essence from its accidents; the latter presents an idea so perfectly simple and unique that all men conceive of it exactly in the same way, while none can show wherein it essentially consists. But is it true, that, "We all know what light is?" Is it not rather true, that we know nothing at all about it, but what it is just as easy to tell as to think? We know it is that reflexible medium which enables us to see; and this is definition enough for all but the natively blind, to whom no definition perhaps can ever convey an adequate notion of its use in respect to sight.

13. If a person cannot tell what a thing is, it is commonly considered to be a fair inference, that he does not know. Will any grammarian say, "I know well enough what the thing is, but I cannot tell?" Yet, taken upon this common principle, the authors of our English grammars, (if in framing their definitions they have not been grossly wanting to themselves in the exercise of their own art,) may be charged, I think, with great ignorance, or great indistinctness of apprehension; and that, too, in relation to many things among the very simplest elements of their science. For example: Is it not a disgrace to a man of letters, to be unable to tell accurately what a letter is? Yet to say, with Lowth, Murray, Churchill, and a hundred others of inferior name, that, "A letter is the first principle or least part of a word," is to utter what is neither good English nor true doctrine. The two articles a and the are here inconsistent with each other. "A letter" is one letter, any letter; but "the first principle of a word" is, surely, not one or any principle taken indefinitely. Equivocal as the phrase is, it must mean either some particular principle, or some particular first principle, of a word; and, taken either way, the assertion is false. For it is manifest, that in no sense can we affirm of each of the letters of a word, that it is "the first principle" of that word. Take, for instance, the word man. Is m the first principle of this word? You may answer, "Yes; for it is the first letter." Is a the first principle? "No; it is the second." But n too is a letter; and is n the first principle? "No; it is the last!" This grammatical error might have been avoided by saying, "Letters are the first principles, or least parts, of words." But still the definition would not be true, nor would it answer the question, What is a letter? The true answer to which is: "A letter is an alphabetic character, which commonly represents some elementary sound of human articulation, or speech."

14. This true definition sufficiently distinguishes letters from the marks used in punctuation, because the latter are not alphabetic, and they represent silence, rather than sound; and also from the Arabic figures used for numbers, because these are no part of any alphabet, and they represent certain entire words, no one of which consists only of one letter, or of a single element of articulation. The same may be said of all the characters used for abbreviation; as, & for and, $ for dollars, or the marks peculiar to mathematicians, to astronomers, to druggists, &c. None of these are alphabetic, and they represent significant words, and not single elementary sounds: it would be great dullness, to assume that a word and an elementary sound are one and the same thing. But the reader will observe that this definition embraces no idea contained in the faulty one to which I am objecting; neither indeed could it, without a blunder. So wide from the mark is that notion of a letter, which the popularity of Dr. Lowth and his copyists has made a hundred-fold more common than any other![67] According to an other erroneous definition given by these same gentlemen, "Words are articulate sounds, used by common consent, as signs of our ideas."—Murray's Gram., p. 22; Kirkham's, 20; Ingersoll's, 7; Alger's, 12; Russell's, 7; Merchant's, 9; Fisk's, 11; Greenleaf's, 20; and many others. See Lowth's Gram., p. 6; from which almost all authors have taken the notion, that words consist of "sounds" only. But letters are no principles or parts of sounds at all; unless you will either have visible marks to be sounds, or the sign to be a principle or part of the thing signified. Nor are they always principles or parts of words: we sometimes write what is not a word; as when, by letters, we denote pronunciation alone, or imitate brute voices. If words were formed of articulate sounds only, they could not exist in books, or be in any wise known to the deaf and dumb. These two primary definitions, then, are both false; and, taken together, they involve the absurdity of dividing things acknowledged to be indivisible. In utterance, we cannot divide consonants from their vowels; on paper, we can. Hence letters are the least parts of written language only; but the least parts of spoken words are syllables, and not letters. Every definition of a consonant implies this.

15. They who cannot define a letter or a word, may be expected to err in explaining other grammatical terms. In my opinion, nothing is well written, that can possibly be misunderstood; and if any definition be likely to suggest a wrong idea, this alone is enough to condemn it: nor does it justify the phraseology, to say, that a more reasonable construction can be put upon it. By Murray and others, the young learner is told, that, "A vowel is an articulate sound, that can be perfectly uttered by itself;" as if a vowel were nothing but a sound, and that a sort of echo, which can utter itself; and next, that, "A consonant is an articulate sound, which cannot be perfectly uttered without the help of a vowel." Now, by their own showing, every letter is either a vowel or a consonant; hence, according to these definitions, all the letters are articulate sounds. And, if so, what is a "silent letter?" It is a silent articulate sound! Again: ask a boy, "What is a triphthong?" He answers in the words of Murray, Weld, Pond, Smith, Adams, Kirkham, Merchant, Ingersoll, Bacon, Alger, Worcester, and others: "A triphthong is the union of three vowels, pronounced in like manner: as eau in beau, iew in view." He accurately cites an entire paragraph from his grammar, but does he well conceive how the three vowels in beau or view are "pronounced in like manner?" Again: "A syllable is a sound, either simple or compound, pronounced by a single impulse of the voice."—Murray's Gram., 8vo, p. 22. This definition resolves syllables into sounds; whereas their true elements are letters. It also mistakes the participle compounded for the adjective compound; whereas the latter only is the true reverse of simple. A compound sound is a sound composed of others which may be separated; a sound compounded is properly that which is made an ingredient with others, but which may itself be simple.

16. It is observable, that in their attempts to explain these prime elements of grammar, Murray, and many others who have copied him, overlook all written language; whereas their very science itself took its origin, name, and nature, from the invention of writing; and has consequently no bearing upon any dialect which has not been written. Their definitions absurdly resolve letters, vowels, consonants, syllables, and words, all into sounds; as if none of these things had any existence on paper, or any significance to those who read in silence. Hence, their explanations of all these elements, as well as of many other things equally essential to the study, are palpably erroneous. I attribute this to the carelessness with which men have compiled or made up books of grammar; and that carelessness to those various circumstances, already described, which have left diligence in a grammarian no hope of praise or reward. Without alluding here to my own books, no one being obliged to accuse himself, I doubt whether we have any school grammar that is much less objectionable in this respect, than Murray's; and yet I am greatly mistaken, if nine tenths of all the definitions in Murray's system are not faulty. "It was this sort of definitions, which made Scaliger say, 'Nihil infelicius definitore grammatico.'"—See Johnson's Gram. Com., p. 351; also Paragraph 5th, above.

17. Nor can this objection be neutralized by saying, it is a mere matter of opinion—a mere prejudice originating in rivalry. For, though we have ample choice of terms, and may frequently assign to particular words a meaning and an explanation which are in some degree arbitrary; yet whenever we attempt to define things under the name which custom has positively fixed upon them, we are no longer left to arbitrary explications; but are bound to think and to say that only which shall commend itself to the understanding of others, as being altogether true to nature. When a word is well understood to denote a particular object or class of objects, the definition of it ought to be in strict conformity to what is known of the real being and properties of the thing or things contemplated. A definition of this kind is a proposition susceptible of proof and illustration; and therefore whatsoever is erroneously assumed to be the proper meaning of such a term, may be refuted. But those persons who take every thing upon trust, and choose both to learn and to teach mechanically, often become so slavishly habituated to the peculiar phraseology of their text-books, that, be the absurdity of a particular expression what it may, they can neither discover nor suspect any inaccuracy in it. It is also very natural even for minds more independent and acute, to regard with some reverence whatsoever was gravely impressed upon them in childhood. Hence the necessity that all school-books should proceed from skillful hands. Instruction should tell things as they are, and never falter through negligence.

18. I have admitted that definitions are not the only means by which a general knowledge of the import of language may be acquired; nor are they the only means by which the acquisition of such knowledge may be aided. To exhibit or point out things and tell their names, constitutes a large part of that instruction by which the meaning of words is conveyed to the young mind; and, in many cases, a mere change or apposition of terms may sufficiently explain our idea. But when we would guard against the possibility of misapprehension, and show precisely what is meant by a word, we must fairly define it. There are, however, in every language, many words which do not admit of a formal definition. The import of all definitive and connecting particles must be learned from usage, translation, or derivation; and nature reserves to herself the power of explaining the objects of our simple original perceptions. "All words standing for complex ideas are definable; but those by which we denote simple ideas, are not. For the perceptions of this latter class, having no other entrance into the mind, than by sensation or reflection, can be acquired only by experience."—Duncan's Logic, p. 63. "And thus we see, that as our simple ideas are the materials and foundation of knowledge, so the names of simple ideas may be considered as the elementary parts of language, beyond which we cannot trace the meaning and signification of words. When we come to them, we suppose the ideas for which they stand to be already known; or, if they are not, experience alone must be consulted, and not definitions or explications."—Ibid., p. 69.

19. But this is no apology for the defectiveness of any definition which might be made correct, or for the effectiveness of our English grammars, in the frequent omission of all explanation, and the more frequent adoption of some indirect form of expression. It is often much easier to make some loose observation upon what is meant by a given word or term in science, than to frame a faultless definition of the thing; because it is easier to refer to some of the relations, qualities, offices, or attributes of things, than to discern wherein their essence consists, so as to be able to tell directly and clearly what they are. The improvement of our grammatical code in this respect, was one of the principal objects which I thought it needful to attempt, when I first took up the pen as a grammarian. I cannot pretend to have seen, of course, every definition and rule which has been published on this subject; but, if I do not misjudge a service too humble for boasting, I have myself framed a greater number of new or improved ones, than all other English grammarians together. And not a few of them have, since their first publication in 1823, been complimented to a place in other grammars than my own. This is in good keeping with the authorship which has been spoken of in an other chapter; but I am constrained to say, it affords no proof that they were well written. If it did, the definitions and rules in Murray's grammar must undoubtedly be thought the most correct that ever have been given: they have been more frequently copied than any others.

20. But I have ventured to suggest, that nine tenths of this author's definitions are bad, or at least susceptible of some amendment. If this can be shown to the satisfaction of the reader, will he hope to find an other English grammar in which the eye of criticism may not detect errors and deficiencies with the same ease? My object is, to enforce attention to the proprieties of speech; and this is the very purpose of all grammar. To exhibit here all Murray's definitions, with criticisms upon them, would detain us too long. We must therefore be content to take a part of them as a sample. And, not to be accused of fixing only upon the worst, we will take a series. Let us then consider in their order his definitions of the nine parts of speech;—for, calling the participle a verb, he reduces the sorts of words to that number. And though not one of his nine definitions now stands exactly as it did in his early editions, I think it may be said, that not one of them is now, if it ever has been, expressed grammatically.

21. FIRST DEFINITION:—"An Article is a word prefixed to substantives, to point them out, and to show how far their[68] signification extends."—Murray, and others, from, Lowth's Gram., p. 10. This is obscure. In what manner, or in what respect, does an article point out substantives? To point them out as such, or to show which words are substantives, seems at first view to be the meaning intended; but it is said soon after, "A or an is used in a vague sense, to point out one single thing of the kind, in other respects indeterminate; as, 'Give me a book;' 'Bring me an apple.'"—Lowth, p. 11; Murray, p. 31. And again: "It is of the nature of both the articles to determine or limit the thing spoken of."—Murray's Gram., 8vo, p. 170. Now to point out nouns among the parts of speech, and to point out things as individuals of their class, are very different matters; and which of these is the purpose for which articles are used, according to Lowth and Murray? Their definition says the former, their explanations imply the latter; and I am unable to determine which they really meant. The term placed before would have been better than "prefixed;" because the latter commonly implies junction, as well as location. The word "indeterminate" is not a very easy one for a boy; and, when he has found out what it means, he may possibly not know to which of the four preceding nouns it ought to be referred:—"in a vague sense, to point out one single thing of the kind, in other respects indeterminate." What is this "vague sense?" and what is it, that is "indeterminate?"

22. SECOND DEFINITION:—"A Substantive or Noun is the name of any thing that exists, or of which we have any notion."—Murray, and others. According to his own syntax, this sentence of Murray's is wrong; for he himself suggests, that when two or more relative clauses refer to the same antecedent, the same pronoun should be used in each. Of clauses connected like these, this is true. He should therefore have said, "A Substantive, or Noun, is the name of any thing which exists, or of which we have any notion." His rule, however, though good against a text like this, is utterly wrong in regard to many others, and not very accurate in taking two for a "series" thus: "Whatever relative is used, in one of a series of clauses relating to the same antecedent, the same relative ought, generally to be used in them all. In the following sentence, this rule is violated: 'It is remarkable, that Holland, against which the war was undertaken, and that, in the very beginning, was reduced to the brink of destruction, lost nothing.' The clause ought to have been, 'and which in the very beginning.'"—Murray's Gram., 8vo, p. 155. But both the rule and the example, badly as they correspond, were borrowed from Priestley's Grammar, p. 102, where the text stands thus: "Whatever relative be used, in one of a series of clauses, relating to the same antecedent, the same ought to be used in them all. 'It is remarkable, that Holland,'" &c.

23. THIRD DEFINITION:—"An Adjective is a word added to a substantive, to express its quality."—Lowth, Murray, Bullions, Pond, and others. Here we have the choice of two meanings; but neither of them is according to truth. It seems doubtful whether "its quality" is the adjective's quality, or the substantive's; but in either sense, the phrase is false; for an adjective is added to a noun, not to express any quality either of the adjective or of the noun, but to express some quality of the thing signified by the noun. But the definition is too much restricted; for adjectives may be added to pronouns as well as to nouns, nor do they always express quality.

24. FOURTH DEFINITION:—"A Pronoun is a word used instead of a noun, to avoid the too frequent repetition of the same word."—Dr. Ash's Gram., p. 25; Murray's, 28 and 50; Felton's, 18; Alger's, 13; Bacon's, 10; and others. The latter part of this sentence is needless, and also contains several errors. 1. The verb avoid is certainly very ill-chosen; because it implies intelligent agency, and not that which is merely instrumental. 2. The article the is misemployed for a; for, "the too frequent repetition," should mean some particular too frequent repetition—an idea not intended here, and in itself not far from absurdity. 3. The phrase, "the same word" may apply to the pronoun itself as well as to the noun: in saying, "I came, I saw, I conquered," there is as frequent a repetition of the same word, as in saying, "Cæsar came, Cæsar saw, Cæsar conquered." If, therefore, the latter part of this definition must be retained, the whole should be written thus: "A Pronoun is a word used in stead of a noun, to prevent too frequent a repetition of it."

25. FIFTH DEFINITION:—"A Verb is a word which signifies to be, to do, or to suffer"—Lowth, Murray, and others. NOTE:—"A verb may generally be distinguished by its making sense with any of the personal pronouns, or the word to before it."—Murray, and others. It is confessedly difficult to give a perfect definition of a verb; and if, with Murray, we will have the participles to be verbs, there must be no small difficulty in forming one that shall be tolerable. Against the foregoing old explanation, it may be objected, that the phrase to suffer, being now understood in a more limited sense than formerly, does not well express the nature or import of a passive verb. I have said, "A Verb is a word that signifies to be, to act, or to be acted upon." Children cannot readily understand, how every thing that is in any way acted upon, may be said to suffer. The participle, I think, should be taken as a distinct part of speech, and have its own definition. The note added by Murray to his definition of a verb, would prove the participle not to be included in this part of speech, and thus practically contradict his scheme. It is also objectionable in respect to construction. The phrase "by its making sense" is at least very questionable English; for "its making" supposes making to be a noun, and "making sense" supposes it to be an active participle. But Lowth says, "Let it be either the one or the other, and abide by its own construction." Nay, the author himself, though he therein contradicts an other note of his own, virtually condemns the phrase, by his caution to the learner against treating words in ing, "as if they were of an amphibious species, partly nouns and partly verbs."—Murray's Gram., 8vo, p. 193.

26. SIXTH DEFINITION:—"An Adverb is a part of speech joined to a verb, an adjective, and sometimes to another adverb, to express some quality or circumstance respecting it."—Murray's Gram., pp. 28 and 114. See Dr. Ash's Gram., p. 47. This definition contains many errors; some of which are gross blunders. 1. The first word, "An," is erroneously put for The: an adverb is one adverb, not the whole class; and, if, "An adverb is a part of speech," any and every adverb is a part of speech; then, how many parts of speech are there? 2. The word "joined" is not well chosen; for, with the exception of not in cannot, the adverb is very rarely joined to the word to which it relates. 3. The want of a comma before joined, perverts the construction; for the phrase, "speech joined to a verb," is nonsense; and to suppose joined to relate to the noun part, is not much better. 4. The word "and" should be or; because no adverb is ever added to three or four different terms at once. 5. The word "sometimes" should be omitted; because it is needless, and because it is inconsistent with the only conjunction which will make the definition true. 6. The preposition "to" should either be inserted before "an adjective," or suppressed before the term which follows; for when several words occur in the same construction, uniformity of expression is desirable. 7. For the same reason, (if custom may be thus far conformed to analogy,) the article "an" ought, in cases like this, if not always, to be separated from the word other; thus, "An adverb is a word added to a verb, a participle, an adjective, or an other adverb." Were the eye not familiar with it, another would be thought as irregular as theother. 8. The word "quality" is wrong; for no adverb ever expresses any quality, as such; qualities are expressed by adjectives, and never, in any direct manner, by adverbs. 9. The "circumstances" which we express by adverbs never belong to the words, as this definition avers that they do, but always to the actions or qualities which the words signify. 10. The pronoun it, according to Murray's second rule of syntax, ought to be them, and so it stands in his own early editions; but if and be changed to or, as I have said it should be, the pronoun it will be right.

27. SEVENTH DEFINITION:—"Prepositions serve to connect words with one another, and to show the relation between them."—Lowth, Murray, and others. This is only an observation, not a definition, as it ought to have been; nor does it at all distinguish the preposition from the conjunction. It does not reach the thing in question. Besides, it contains an actual solecism in the expression. The word "between" implies but two things; and the phrase "one another" is not applicable where there are but two. It should be, "to connect words with each other, and to show the relation between them;"—or else, "to connect words with one an other, and to show the relations among them." But the latter mode of expression would not apply to prepositions considered severally, but only to the whole class.

28. EIGHTH DEFINITION:—"A Conjunction is a part of speech that is chiefly used to connect sentences; so as, out of two or more sentences, to make but one: it sometimes connects only words."—Murray, and others. Here are more than thirty words, awkwardly and loosely strung together; and all that is said in them, might be much better expressed in half the number. For example: "A Conjunction is a word which connects other terms, and commonly of two sentences makes but one." But verbosity and want of unity are not the worst faults of this definition. We have three others to point out. 1. "A conjunction is" not "a part of speech;" because a conjunction is one conjunction, and a part of speech is a whole class, or sort, of words. A similar error was noticed in Murray's definition of an adverb; and so common has this blunder become, that by a comparison of the definitions which different authors have given of the parts of speech, probably it will be found, that, by some hand or other, every one of the ten has been commenced in this way. 2. The words "or more" are erroneous, and ought to be omitted; for no one conjunction can connect more than two terms, in that consecutive order which the sense requires. Three or more simple sentences may indeed form a compound sentence; but, as they cannot be joined in a cluster, they must have two or more connectives. 3. The last clause erroneously suggests, that any or every conjunction "sometimes connects only words;" but the conjunctions which may connect only words, are not more than five, whereas those which connect only sentences are four times as many.

29. NINTH DEFINITION:—"Interjections are words thrown in between the parts of a sentence, to express the passions or emotions of the speaker; as, 'O Virtue! how amiable thou art!'"—Murray, and many others. This definition, which has been copied from grammar to grammar, and committed to memory millions of times, is obviously erroneous, and directly contradicted by the example. Interjections, though often enough thrown in between the parts of a discourse, are very rarely "thrown in between the parts of a sentence." They more frequently occur at the beginning of a sentence than any where else; and, in such cases, they do not come under this narrow definition. The author, at the head of his chapter on interjections, appends to this definition two other examples; both of which contradict it in like manner: "Oh! I have alienated my friend."—"Alas! I fear for life." Again: Interjections are used occasionally, in written, as well as in oral discourse; nor are they less indicative of the emotions of the writer, than of those "of the speaker."

30. I have thus exhibited, with all intentional fairness of criticism, the entire series of these nine primary definitions; and the reader may judge whether they sustain the praises which have been bestowed on the book,[69] or confirm the allegations which I have made against it. He will understand that my design is, here, as well as in the body of this work, to teach grammar practically, by rectifying, so far as I may, all sorts of mistakes either in it or respecting it; to compose a book which, by a condensed exposition of such errors as are commonly found in other grammars, will at once show the need we have of a better, and be itself a fit substitute for the principal treatises which it censures. Grammatical errors are universally considered to be small game for critics. They must therefore be very closely grouped together, to be worth their room in this work. Of the tens of thousands who have learned for grammar a multitude of ungrammatical definitions and rules, comparatively few will ever know what I have to say of their acquisitions. But this I cannot help. To the readers of the present volume it is due, that its averments should be clearly illustrated by particular examples; and it is reasonable that these should be taken from the most accredited sources, whether they do honour to their framers or not. My argument is only made so much the stronger, as the works which furnish its proofs, are the more esteemed, the more praised, or the more overrated.

31. Murray tells us, "There is no necessary connexion between words and ideas."—Octavo Gram., Vol. i, p. 139. Though this, as I before observed, is not altogether true, he doubtless had very good reason to distinguish, in his teaching, "between the sign and the thing signified." Yet, in his own definitions and explanations, he frequently confounds these very things which he declares to be so widely different as not even to have a "necessary connexion." Errors of this kind are very common in all our English grammars. Two instances occur in the following sentence; which also contains an error in doctrine, and is moreover obscure, or rather, in its literal sense, palpably absurd: "To substantives belong gender, number, and case; and they are all of the third person when spoken of, and of the second person when spoken to."—Murray's Gram., p. 38; Alger's Murray, 16; Merchant's, 23; Bacon's, 12; Maltby's, 12; Lyon's, 7; Guy's, 4; Ingersoll's, 26; S. Putnam's, 13; T. H. Miller's, 17; Rev. T. Smith's, 13. Who, but a child taught by language like this, would ever think of speaking to a noun? or, that a noun of the second person could not be spoken of? or, that a noun cannot be put in the first person, so as to agree with I or we? Murray himself once taught, that, "Pronouns must always agree with their antecedents, and the nouns for which they stand, in gender, number, and person;" and he departed from a true and important principle of syntax, when he altered his rule to its present form. But I have said that the sentence above is obscure, or its meaning absurd. What does the pronoun "they" represent? "Substantives," according to the author's intent; but "gender, number, and case," according to the obvious construction of the words. Let us try a parallel:" To scriveners belong pen, ink, and paper; and they are all of primary importance when there is occasion to use them, and of none at all when they are not needed." Now, if this sentence is obscure, the other is not less so; but, if this is perfectly clear, so that what is said is obviously and only what is intended, then it is equally clear, that what is said in the former, is gross absurdity, and that the words cannot reasonably be construed into the sense which the writer, and his copyists, designed.

32. All Murray's grammars, not excepting the two volumes octavo, are as incomplete as they are inaccurate; being deficient in many things which are of so great importance that they should not be excluded from the very smallest epitome. For example: On the subject of the numbers, he attempted but one definition, and that is a fourfold solecism. Ho speaks of the persons, but gives neither definitions nor explanations. In treating of the genders, he gives but one formal definition. His section on the cases contains no regular definition. On the comparison of adjectives, and on the moods and tenses of verbs, he is also satisfied with a very loose mode of teaching. The work as a whole exhibits more industry than literary taste, more benevolence of heart than distinctness of apprehension; and, like all its kindred and progeny, fails to give to the principles of grammar that degree of clearness of which they are easily susceptible. The student does not know this, but he feels the effects of it, in the obscurity of his own views on the subject, and in the conscious uncertainty with which he applies those principles. In grammar, the terms person, number, gender, case, mood, tense, and many others, are used in a technical and peculiar sense; and, in all scientific works, the sense of technical terms should be clearly and precisely defined. Nothing can be gained by substituting other names of modern invention; for these also would need definitions as much as the old. We want to know the things themselves, and what they are most appropriately called. We want a book which will tell us, in proper order, and in the plainest manner, what all the elements of the science are.

33. What does he know of grammar, who cannot directly and properly answer such questions as these?—"What are numbers, in grammar? What is the singular number? What is the plural number? What are persons, in grammar? What is the first person? What is the second person? What is the third person? What are genders, in grammar? What is the masculine gender? What is the feminine gender? What is the neuter gender? What are cases, in grammar? What is the nominative case? What is the possessive case? What is the objective case?"—And yet the most complete acquaintance with every sentence or word of Murray's tedious compilation, may leave the student at a loss for a proper answer, not only to each of these questions, but also to many others equally simple and elementary! A boy may learn by heart all that Murray ever published on the subject of grammar, and still be left to confound the numbers in grammar with numbers in arithmetic, or the persons in grammar with persons in civil life! Nay, there are among the professed improvers of this system of grammar, men who have actually confounded these things, which are so totally different in their natures! In "Smith's New Grammar on the Productive System," a work in which Murray is largely copied and strangely metamorphosed, there is an abundance of such confusion. For instance: "What is the meaning of the word number? Number means a sum that may be counted."—R. C. Smith's New Gram., p. 7. From this, by a tissue of half a dozen similar absurdities, called inductions, the novice is brought to the conclusion that the numbers are two—as if there were in nature but two sums that might be counted! There is no end to the sickening detail of such blunders. How many grammars tell us, that, "The first person is the person who speaks;" that, "The second person is the person spoken to;" and that, "the third person is the person spoken of!" As if the three persons of a verb, or other part of speech, were so many intelligent beings! As if, by exhibiting a word in the three persons, (as go, goest, goes,) we put it first into the speaker, then into the hearer, and then into somebody else! Nothing can be more abhorrent to grammar, or to sense, than such confusion. The things which are identified in each of these three definitions, are as unlike as Socrates and moonshine! The one is a thinking being; the other, a mere form peculiar to certain words. But Chandler, of Philadelphia, ("the Grammar King," forsooth!) without mistaking the grammatical persons for rational souls, has contrived to crowd into his definition of person more errors of conception and of language,—more insult to common sense,—than one could have believed it possible to put together in such space. And this ridiculous old twaddle, after six and twenty years, he has deliberately re-written and lately republished as something "adapted to the schools of America." It stands thus: "Person is a distinction which is made in a noun between its representation of its object, either as spoken to, or spoken of."—Chandler's E. Grammar; Edition of 1821, p. 16; Ed. 1847, p. 21.

34. Grammarians have often failed in their definitions, because it is impossible to define certain terms in the way in which the description has been commonly attempted. He who undertakes what is impossible must necessarily fail; and fail too, to the discredit of his ingenuity. It is manifest that whenever a generic name in the singular number is to be defined, the definition must be founded upon some property or properties common to all the particular things included under the term. Thus, if I would define a globe, a wheel, or a pyramid, my description must be taken, not from what is peculiar to one or an other of these things, but from those properties only which are common to all globes, all wheels, or all pyramids. But what property has unity in common with plurality, on which a definition of number may be founded? What common property have the three cases, by which we can clearly define case? What have the three persons in common, which, in a definition of person, could be made evident to a child? Thus all the great classes of grammatical modifications, namely, persons, numbers, genders, cases, moods, and tenses, though they admit of easy, accurate, and obvious definitions in the plural, can scarcely be defined at all in the singular. I do not say, that the terms person, number, gender, case, mood, and tense, ia their technical application to grammar, are all of them equally and absolutely undefinable in the singular; but I say, that no definition, just in sense and suitable for a child, can ever be framed for any one of them. Among the thousand varied attempts of grammarians to explain them so, there are a hundred gross solecisms for every tolerable definition. For this, as I have shown, there is a very simple reason in the nature of the things.

35. But this reason, as well as many other truths equally important and equally clear, our common grammarians, have, so far as I know, every man of them, overlooked. Consequently, even when they were aiming at the right thing, they frequently fell into gross errors of expression; and, what is still more surprising, such errors have been entailed upon the very art of grammar, and the art of authorship itself, by the prevalence of an absurd notion, that modern writers on this subject can be meritorious authors without originality. Hence many a school-boy is daily rehearsing from his grammar-book what he might well be ashamed to have written. For example, the following definition from Murray's grammar, is found in perhaps a dozen other compends, all professing to teach the art of speaking and writing with propriety: "Number is the consideration of an object, as one or more." [70] Yet this short sentence, as I have before suggested, is a fourfold solecism. First, the word "number" is wrong; because those modifications of language, which distinguish unity and plurality, cannot be jointly signified by it. Secondly, the word "consideration" is wrong; because number is not consideration, in any sense which can be put upon the terms: condition, constitution, configuration, or any other word beginning with con, would have done just as well. Thirdly, "the consideration of an object as one," is but idle waste of thought; for, that one thing is one,—that an object is one object,—every child knows by intuition, and not by "consideration." Lastly, to consider "an object as more" than one, is impossible; unless this admirable definition lead us into a misconception in so plain a case! So much for the art of "the grammatical definer."

36. Many other examples, equally faulty and equally common, might, be quoted and criticised for the further proof and illustration of what I have alleged. But the reader will perhaps judge the foregoing to be sufficient. I have wished to be brief, and yet to give my arguments, and the neglected facts upon which they rest, their proper force upon the mind. Against such prejudices as may possibly arise from the authorship of rival publications, or from any interest in the success of one book rather than of an other, let both my judges and me be on our guard. I have intended to be fair; for captiousness is not criticism. If the reader perceives in these strictures any improper bias, he has a sort of discernment which it is my misfortune to lack. Against the compilers of grammars, I urge no conclusions at which any man can hesitate, who accedes to my preliminary remarks upon them; and these may be summed up in the following couplet of the poet Churchill:

"To copy beauties, forfeits all pretence
To fame;—to copy faults, is want of sense."