Yes, there is “great vagueness,” and here, in passing, is an amusing instance of it by a well-known writer on meteorology: “All cloud which lies as a thin flat sheet must either be pure stratus or contain the word strato in combination.” Did any one ever see a cloud containing the word strato in combination? “Great vagueness” is exemplified also in the grammarian’s own writing, and in a connection that demands a full exposition of it.
We need not quarrel with the expression “thoughts of the human mind” because we do not suppose that animals have mind; but certainly mind would be sufficient, without human, in discussing language. It is another matter, though, that the next sentence shows a constructive method at variance with the rules of grammar, and of a kind which the author himself brands as false syntax in his exercises. Either in the sentence is not in correct construction with the complementary or; it would be if because it were omitted—“because the thing ... either does not exist at all, ... or exists under different relations.” In the last clause, “it exists under different relations from what it does in the mind of the speaker,” what is improperly used, since the antecedent is plural—those which should have been used instead of what; the construction makes does a principal verb, wrongly, because it is used for does exist or exists, and even with the right verb another preposition should be inserted, thus—“from those under which it exists in the mind of the speaker.” The whole sentence would have been much better expressed in this way: “It is imperfect because sometimes a thing mentioned is either not known at all to the hearer, or presents associations to his mind different from those conceived by the speaker.”
The third sentence ludicrously transposes speaker and hearer—“because the term, ... if it has any meaning in the mind of the speaker, has a different one from what it has in the mind of the hearer.” Possibly the writer accidentally placed these words in the wrong order, and the error is one of carelessness; but error it certainly is, for of course the speaker in every instance must suppose that his words mean something, whether his hearers think so or not.
In the fourth sentence “great vagueness” is again shown. What is the meaning of “when mentioned”? As here used, it can mean only “when a term is spoken of as a term,” and that is nonsense. The sentence would be complete and accurately constructed without “when mentioned.”
The fourth sentence also contains the only so-called imperfection which the grammarian mentions, “beast of burden.” Undoubtedly there are many possibilities of ambiguity, but this phrase, chosen to illustrate imperfection, is really one of the beauties of the language. It is absurd to suppose that any one would attribute to such an abstract term a concrete meaning; but even if “beast of burden” does suggest to one person a horse, to another a mule, and to another a camel, there is nothing in that circumstance to prove that language is imperfect. All that is expressed in the phrase is “some kind of beast used for carrying,” and it is not said imperfectly. The imperfection is in the mind of the writer, not in the language—unless he can give a better example. If this author had omitted this section of his work, he would have shortened his book to the extent of half a page, and he would not have afforded a text for preaching against imperfection of mental training. If a thoroughly qualified proof-reader had suggested proper corrections, in the proper way, it must be that the matter would have been bettered; and every proof-reader should know how to make such suggestions.
CHAPTER VIII.
PREPARATION OF COPY.
WHILE it is very natural, in these days of great mechanical progress, that methods and machinery should be preëminent in printers’ literature, it should not be forgotten that the “art preservative” is not entirely mechanical. Our presses are not fed with paper until after the forms are fed from paper.
How much of the brain-work should be done by the printers, and how much by writers? Mr. Theodore L. De Vinne spoke as follows concerning this important question, at the bicentennial celebration of the setting up of the first printing-press in New York by William Bradford:
“I want to ask the question, What is the writer doing for us? Is he making his copy any better? Do you get any clearer manuscript than you used to? So far as handwriting is concerned, I should say no. What we get through the typewriter is better. The copy which the author furnishes has not kept pace with the improvement in machinery. Yet at the same time the printer is asked to do his work better and quicker than before. We are asked to make bricks without the proper straw. Too much is expected of printers in regard to this matter. I have been in the printing-office for nearly fifty years, and during that time I have had occasion to handle the copy from a great many authors, and from all ranks and conditions of men, and I find that the compositor and the proof-reader are expected to do more work.