CHAPTER I.
ON SYNTAX IN GENERAL.
[§ 467]. The word syntax is derived from the Greek syn (with or together), and taxis (arrangement). It relates to the arrangement, or putting together of words. Two or more words must be used before there can be any application of studied syntax.
Much that is considered by the generality of grammarians as syntax, can either be omitted altogether, or else be better studied under another name.
[§ 468]. To reduce a sentence to its elements, and to show that these elements are, 1, the subject, 2, the predicate, 3, the copula; to distinguish between simple terms and complex terms,—this is the department of logic.
To show the difference in force of expression, between such a sentence as great is Diana of the Ephesians, and Diana of the Ephesians is great, wherein the natural order of the subject and predicate is reversed, is a point of rhetoric.
I am moving.—To state that such a combination as I am moving is grammatical, is undoubtedly a point of syntax. Nevertheless it is a point better explained in a separate treatise, than in a work upon any particular language. The expression proves its correctness by the simple fact of its universal intelligibility.
I speaks.—To state that such a combination as I speaks,
admitting that I is exclusively the pronoun in the first person, and that speaks is exclusively the verb in the third, is undoubtedly a point of syntax. Nevertheless, it is a point which is better explained in a separate treatise, than in a work upon any particular language. An expression so ungrammatical, involves a contradiction in terms, which unassisted common sense can deal with. This position will again be reverted to.
There is to me a father.—Here we have a circumlocution equivalent to I have a father. In the English language the circumlocution is unnatural. In the Latin it is common. To determine this, is a matter of idiom rather than of syntax.
I am speaking, I was reading.—There was a stage in the Gothic languages when these forms were either inadmissible, or rare. Instead thereof, we had the present tense, I speak, and the past, I spoke. The same is the case with the classical languages in the classical stage. To determine the difference in idea between these pairs of forms is a matter of metaphysics. To determine at what period each idea came to have a separate mode of expression is a matter of the history of language. For example, vas láisands appears in Ulphilas (Matt. vii. 29). There, it appears as a rare form, and as a literal translation of the Greek ἦν διδασκών (was teaching). The Greek form itself was, however, an unclassical expression for ἐδίδασκε. In Anglo-Saxon this mode of speaking became common, and in English it is commoner still.—Deutsche Grammatik, iv. 5. This is a point of idiom involved with one of history.
Swear by your sword—swear on your sword.—Which of these two expressions is right? This depends on what the speaker means. If he mean make your oath in the full remembrance of the trust you put in your sword, and with the imprecation, therein implied, that it shall fail you, or turn against you if you speak falsely, the former expression is the right one. But, if he mean swear with your hand upon your sword, it is the latter which expresses his meaning. To take a different view of this question, and to write as a rule that
verbs of swearing are followed by the preposition on (or by) is to mistake the province of the grammar. Grammar tells no one what he should wish to say. It only tells him how what he wishes to say should be said.
Much of the criticism on the use of will and shall is faulty in this respect. Will expresses one idea of futurity, shall another. The syntax of the two words is very nearly that of any other two. That one of the words is oftenest used with a first person, and the other with a second, is a fact, as will be seen hereafter, connected with the nature of things, not of words.
[§ 469]. The following question now occurs. If the history of forms of speech be one thing, and the history of idioms another; if this question be a part of logic, and that question a part of rhetoric; and if such truly grammatical facts as government and concord are, as matters of common sense, to be left uninvestigated and unexplained, what remains as syntax? This is answered by the following distinction. There are two sorts of syntax; theoretical and practical, scientific and historical, pure and mixed. Of these, the first consists in the analysis and proof of those rules which common practice applies without investigation, and common sense appreciates, in a rough and gross manner, from an appreciation of the results. This is the syntax of government and concord, or of those points which find no place in the present work, for the following reason—they are either too easy or too hard for it. If explained scientifically they are matters of close and minute reasoning; if exhibited empirically they are mere rules for the memory. Besides this they are universal facts of languages in general, and not the particular facts of any one language. Like other universal facts they are capable of being expressed symbolically. That the verb (A) agrees with its pronoun (B) is an immutable fact: or, changing the mode of expression, we may say that language can only fulfil its great primary object of intelligibility when A = B. And so on throughout. A formal syntax thus exhibited, and even devised à priori, is a philological possibility. And it is also the measure of philological anomalies.
[§ 470]. Pure syntax.—So much for one sort of syntax; viz., that portion of grammar which bears the same relation to the practice of language, that the investigation of the syllogism bears to the practice of reasoning. The positions concerning it are by no means invalidated by such phrases as I speaks (for I speak), &c. In cases like these there is no contradiction; since the peculiarity of the expression consists not in joining two incompatible persons, but in mistaking a third person for a first—and as far as the speaker is concerned, actually making it so. I must here anticipate some objections that may be raised to these views, by stating that I am perfectly aware that they lead to a conclusion which to most readers must appear startling and to some monstrous, viz., to the conclusion that there is no such thing as bad grammar at all; that everything is what the speaker chooses to make it; that a speaker may choose to make any expression whatever, provided it answer the purpose of language, and be intelligible; that, in short, whatever is is right. Notwithstanding this view of the consequence I still am satisfied with the truth of the premises. I may also add that the terms pure and mixed, themselves suggestive of much thought on the subject which they express, are not mine but Professor Sylvester's.
[§ 471]. Mixed syntax.—That, notwithstanding the previous limitations, there is still a considerable amount of syntax in the English, as in all other languages, may be seen from the sequel. If I undertook to indicate the essentials of mixed syntax, I should say that they consisted in the explanation of combinations apparently ungrammatical; in other words, that they ascertained the results of those causes which disturb the regularity of the pure syntax; that they measured the extent of the deviation; and that they referred it to some principle of the human mind—so accounting for it.
I am going.—Pure syntax explains this.
I have gone.—Pure syntax will not explain this. Nevertheless, the expression is good English. The power, however, of both have and gone is different from the usual power of those words. This difference mixed syntax explains.
[§ 472]. Mixed syntax requires two sorts of knowledge—metaphysical, and historical.
1. To account for such a fact in language as the expression the man as rides to market, instead of the usual expression the man who rides to market, is a question of what is commonly called metaphysics. The idea of comparison is the idea common to the words as and who.
2. To account for such a fact in language as the expression I have ridden a horse is a question of history. We must know that when there was a sign of an accusative case in English the word horse had that sign; in other words that the expression was, originally, I have a horse as a ridden thing. These two views illustrate each other.
[§ 473]. In the English, as in all other languages, it is convenient to notice certain so-called figures of speech. They always furnish convenient modes of expression, and sometimes, as in the case of the one immediately about to be noticed, account for facts.
[§ 474]. Personification.—The ideas of apposition and collectiveness account for the apparent violations of the concord of number. The idea of personification applies to the concord of gender. A masculine or feminine gender, characteristic of persons, may be substituted for the neuter gender, characteristic of things. In this case the term is said to be personified.
The cities who aspired to liberty.—A personification of the idea expressed by cities is here necessary to justify the expression.
It, the sign of the neuter gender, as applied to a male or female child, is the reverse of the process.
[§ 475]. Ellipsis (from the Greek elleipein=to fall short), or a falling short, occurs in sentences like I sent to the bookseller's. Here the word shop or house is understood. Expressions like to go on all fours, and to eat of the fruit of the tree, are reducible to ellipses.
[§ 476]. Pleonasm (from the Greek pleonazein=to be in excess) occurs in sentences like the king, he reigns. Here the word he is superabundant. In many pleonastic
expressions we may suppose an interruption of the sentence, and afterwards an abrupt renewal of it; as the king—he reigns.
The fact of the word he neither qualifying nor explaining the word king, distinguishes pleonasm from apposition.
Pleonasm, as far as the view above is applicable, is reduced to what is, apparently, its opposite, viz., ellipsis.
My banks, they are furnished,—the most straitest sect,—these are pleonastic expressions. In the king, he reigns, the word king is in the same predicament as in the king, God bless him.
The double negative, allowed in Greek and Anglo-Saxon, but not admissible in English, is pleonastic.
The verb do, in I do speak, is not pleonastic. In respect to the sense it adds intensity. In respect to the construction it is not in apposition, but in the same predicament with verbs like must and should, as in I must go, &c.; i. e. it is a verb followed by an infinitive. This we know from its power in those languages where the infinitive has a characteristic sign; as, in German,
Die Augen thaten ihm winken.—Goethe.
Besides this, make is similarly used in Old English.—But men make draw the branch thereof, and beren him to be graffed at Babyloyne.—Sir J. Mandeville.
[§ 477]. The figure zeugma.—They wear a garment like that of the Scythians, but a language peculiar to themselves.—The verb, naturally applying to garment only, is here used to govern language. This is called in Greek, zeugma (junction).
[§ 478]. My paternal home was made desolate, and he himself was sacrificed.—The sense of this is plain; he means my father. Yet no such substantive as father has gone before. It is supplied, however, from the word paternal. The sense indicated by paternal gives us a subject to which he can refer. In other words, the word he is understood, according to what is indicated, rather than according to what is expressed. This figure in Greek is called pros to semainomenon (according to the thing indicated).
[§ 479]. Apposition.—Cæsar, the Roman emperor, invades Britain.—Here the words Roman emperor explain, or define, the word Cæsar; and the sentence, filled up, might stand, Cæsar, that is, the Roman emperor, &c. Again, the words Roman emperor might be wholly ejected; or, if not ejected, they might be thrown into a parenthesis. The practical bearing of this fact is exhibited by changing the form of the sentence, and inserting the conjunction and. In this case, instead of one person, two are spoken of, and the verb invades must be changed from the singular to the plural.
Now the words Roman emperor are said to be in apposition to Cæsar. They constitute, not an additional idea, but an explanation of the original one. They are, as it were, laid alongside (appositi) of the word Cæsar. Cases of doubtful number, wherein two substantives precede a verb, and wherein it is uncertain whether the verb should be singular or plural, are decided by determining whether the substantives be in apposition or the contrary. No matter how many nouns there may be, as long as it can be shown that they are in apposition, the verb is in the singular number.
[§ 480]. Collectiveness as opposed to plurality.—In sentences like the meeting was large, the multitude pursue pleasure, meeting, and multitude are each collective nouns; that is, although they present the idea of a single object, that object consists of a plurality of individuals. Hence, pursue is put in the plural number. To say, however, the meeting were large would sound improper. The number of the verb that shall accompany a collective noun depends upon whether the idea of the multiplicity of individuals, or that of the unity of the aggregate, shall predominate.
Sand and salt and a mass of iron is easier to bear than a man without understanding.—Let sand and salt and a mass of iron be dealt with as a series of things the aggregate of which forms a mixture, and the expression is allowable.
The king and the lords and commons forms an excellent frame of government.—Here the expression is doubtful. Substitute with for the first and, and there is no doubt as to the propriety of the singular form is.
[§ 481]. The reduction of complex forms to simple ones.—Take, for instance, the current illustration, viz., the-king-of-Saxony's army.—Here the assertion is, not that the army belongs to Saxony, but that it belongs to the king of Saxony; which words must, for the sake of taking a true view of the construction, be dealt with as a single word in the possessive case. Here two cases are dealt with as one; and a complex term is treated as a single word.
The same reasoning applies to phrases like the two king Williams. If we say the two kings William, we must account for the phrase by apposition.
[§ 482]. True notion of the part of speech in use.—In he is gone, the word gone must be considered as equivalent to absent; that is, as an adjective. Otherwise the expression is as incorrect as the expression she is eloped. Strong participles are adjectival oftener than weak ones; their form being common to many adjectives.
True notion of the original form.—In the phrase I must speak, the word speak is an infinitive. In the phrase I am forced to speak, the word speak is (in the present English) an infinitive also. In one case, however, it is preceded by to; whilst in the other, the particle to is absent. The reason for this lies in the original difference of form. Speak - to=the Anglo-Saxon sprécan, a simple infinitive; to speak, or speak + to=the Anglo-Saxon to sprécanne, an infinitive in the dative case.
[§ 483]. Convertibility.—In the English language, the greater part of the words may, as far as their form is concerned, be one part of speech as well as another. Thus the combinations s-a-n-th, or f-r-e-n-k, if they existed at all, might exist as either nouns or verbs, as either substantives or adjectives, as conjunctions, adverbs, or prepositions. This is not the case in the Greek language. There, if a word be a substantive, it will probably end in -s, if an infinitive verb, in -ein, &c. The bearings of this difference between languages like the English and languages like the Greek will soon appear.
At present, it is sufficient to say that a word,
originally one part of speech (e.g. a noun), may become another (e.g. a verb). This may be called the convertibility of words.
There is an etymological convertibility, and a syntactic convertibility; and although, in some cases, the line of demarcation is not easily drawn between them, the distinction is intelligible and convenient.
[§ 484]. Etymological convertibility.—The words then and than, now adverbs or conjunctions, were once cases: in other words, they have been converted from one part of speech to another. Or, they may even be said to be cases, at the present moment; although only in an historical point of view. For the practice of language, they are not only adverbs or conjunctions, but they are adverbs or conjunctions exclusively.
[§ 485]. Syntactic convertibility.—The combination to err, is at this moment an infinitive verb. Nevertheless it can be used as the equivalent to the substantive error.
To err is human=error is human. Now this is an instance of syntactic conversion. Of the two meanings, there is no doubt as to which is the primary one; which primary meaning is part and parcel of the language at this moment.
The infinitive, when used as a substantive, can be used in a singular form only.
To err=error; but we have no such form as to errs=errors. Nor is it wanted. The infinitive, in a substantival sense, always conveys a general statement, so that even when singular, it has a plural power; just as man is mortal=men are mortal.
[§ 486]. The adjective used as a substantive.—Of these, we have examples in expressions like the blacks of Africa—the bitters and sweets of life—all fours were put to the ground. These are true instances of conversion, and are proved to be so by the fact of their taking a plural form.
Let the blind lead the blind is not an instance of conversion. The word blind in both instances remains an adjective, and is shown to remain so by its being uninflected.
[§ 487]. Uninflected parts of speech, used as substantive.—When King Richard III. says, none of your ifs, he uses the word if as a substantive=expressions of doubt.
So in the expression one long now, the word now=present time.
[§ 488]. The convertibility of words in English is very great; and it is so because the structure of the language favours it. As few words have any peculiar signs expressive of their being particular parts of speech, interchange is easy, and conversion follows the logical association of ideas unimpeded.
The convertibility of words is in the inverse ratio to the amount of their inflection.