By metaphor, language is put into the mouths of animals, particularly in fables. By a still further license, places and things, flowers, trees, forests, brooks, lakes, mountains, towers, castles, stars, &c. are made to speak the most eloquent language, in the first person, in addresses the most pathetic. The propriety of such a use of words I will not stop to question, but simply remark that such figures should never be employed in the instruction of children. As the mind expands, no longer content to grovel amidst mundane things, we mount the pegasus of imagination and soar thro the blissful or terrific scenes of fancy and fiction, and study a language before unknown. But it would be an unrighteous demand upon others, to require them to understand us; and quite as unpardonable to brand them with ignorance because they do not.

Most nouns are in the third person. More things are talked about than talk themselves, or are talked to by others. Hence there is little necessity for teaching children to specify except in the first or second person, which is very easily done.

In English there are two numbers, singular and plural. The singular is confined to one, the plural is extended to any indefinite number. The Greeks, adopted a dual number which they used to express two objects united in pairs, or couples; as, a span of horses, a yoke of oxen, a brace of pistols, a pair of shoes. We express the same idea with more words, using the singular to represent the union of the two. We also extend this use of words and employ what are called nouns of multitude; as, a people, an army, a host, a nation. These and similar words are used in the singular referring to many combined in a united whole, or in the plural comprehending a diversity; as, "the armies met," "the nations are at peace." People admits no change on account of number. We say "many people are collected together and form a numerous people."

The plural is not always to be understood as expressing an increase of number, but of qualities or sorts of things, as the merchant has a variety of sugars, wines, teas, drugs, medicines, paints and dye-woods. We also speak of hopes, fears, loves, anxieties.

Some nouns admit of no plural, in fact, or in use; as, chaos, universe, fitness, immortality, immensity, eternity. Others admit of no singular; as, scissors, tongs, vitals, molasses. These words probably once had singulars, but having no use for them they became obsolete. We have long been accustomed to associate the two halves of shears together, so that in speaking of one whole, we say shears, and of apart, half of a shears. But of some words originally, and in fact plural, we have formed a singular; as, "one twin died, and, tho the other one survived its dangerous illness, the mother wept bitterly for her twins." Twin is composed of two and one. It is found in old books, spelled twane, two-one, or twin. Thus, the twi-light is formed by the mingling of two lights, or the division of the rays of light by the approaching or receding darkness. They twain shall be one flesh. Sheep and deer are singular or plural.

Most plurals are formed by adding s to the singular, or, when euphony requires it, es; as, tree, trees; sun, suns; dish, dishes; box, boxes. Some retain the old plural form; as, ox, oxen; child, children; chick, chicken; kit, kitten. But habit has burst the barrier of old rules, and we now talk of chicks and chickens, kits and kittens. Oxen alone stands as a monument raised to the memory of unaltered saxon plurals.

Some nouns form irregular plurals. Those ending in f change that letter to v and then add es; as, half, halves; leaf, leaves; wolf, wolves. Those ending in y change that to i and add the es; as, cherry, cherries; berry, berries; except when the y is preceded by a vowel, in which case it only adds the s; as, day, days; money, moneys (not ies); attorney, attorneys. All this is to make the sound more easy and harmonious. F and v were formerly used indiscriminately, in singulars as well as plurals, and, in fact, in the composition of all words where they occurred. The same may be said of i and y.

"The Fader (Father) Almychty of the heven abuf (above) In the mene tyme, unto Juno his luf (love) Thus spak; and sayd." Douglas, booke 12, pag. 441.

"They lyued in ioye and in felycite For eche of hem had other lefe and dere." Chaucer, Monks Tale, fol. 81, p. 1.

"When straite twane beefes he tooke And an the aultar layde."

The reason why y is changed into i in the formation of plurals, and in certain other cases, is, I apprehend, accounted for from the fact that words which now end in y formerly ended in ie, as may be seen in all old books. The regular plural was then formed by adding s.

"And upon those members of the bodie, which wee thinke most unhonest, put wee more honestie on." "It rejoyceth not in iniquitie—diversitie of gifts—all thinges edifie not." See old bible, 1 Cor., chap. 13 and 14.

Other words form their plurals still more differently, for which no other rule than habit can be given; as, man, men; foot, feet; tooth, teeth; die, dice; mouse, mice; penny, pence, and sometimes pennies, when applied to distinct pieces of money, and not to value.

Many foreign nouns retain the plural form as used by the nations from whom we have borrowed them; as, cherub, cherubim; seraph, seraphim; radius, radii; memorandum, memoranda; datum, data, &c. We should be pleased to have such words carried home, or, if they are ours by virtue of possession, let them be adopted into our family, and put on the garments of naturalized citizens, and no longer appear as lonely strangers among us. There is great aukwardness in adding the english to the hebrew plural of cherub, as the translators of the common version of the bible have done. They use cherub in the singular and cherubims in the plural. The s should be omitted and the Hebrew plural retained, or the preferable course adopted, and the final s be added, making cherubs, seraphs, &c. The same might be said of all foreign nouns. It would add much to the regularity, dignity, and beauty, of our vernacular tongue.

Proper nouns admit of the plural number; as, there are sixty-four John Smiths in New-York, twenty Arnolds in Providence, and fifteen Davises in Boston. As we are not accustomed to form the plurals of proper names there is not that ease and harmony in the first use of them that we have found in those with which we are more familiar; especially those we have rarely heard pronounced. Habit surmounts the greatest obstacles and makes things the most harsh and unpleasant appear soft and agreeable.

Gender is applied to the distinction of the sexes. There are two—masculine and feminine. The former is applied to males, the latter to females. Those words which belong to neither gender, have been called neuter, that is, no gender. But it is hardly necessary to perplex the minds of learners with negatives. Let them distinguish between masculine and feminine genders, and little need be said to them about a neuter.

There are some nouns of both genders, as student, writer, pupil, person, citizen, resident. Poet, author, editor, and some other words, have of late been applied to females, instead of poetess, authoress, editress. Fashion will soon preclude the necessity of this former distinction.

Some languages determine their genders by the form of the endings of their nouns, and what is thus made masculine in Rome, may be feminine in France. It is owing, no doubt, to this practice, in other nations, that we have attached the idea of gender to inanimate things; as, "the sun, he shines majestically;" while of the moon, it is said, "she sheds a milder radiance." But we can not coincide with the reason assigned by Mr. Murray, for this distinction. His notion is not valid. It does not correspond with facts. While in the south of Europe the sun is called masculine and the moon feminine, the northern nations invariably reverse the distinction, particularly the dialects of the Scandinavian. It was so in our own language in the time of Shakspeare. He calls the sun a "fair wench."

By figures of rhetoric, genders may be attached to inanimate matter. Where things are personified, we usually speak of them as masculine and feminine; but this practice depends on fancy, and not on any fixed rules. There is, in truth, but two genders, and those confined to animals. When we break these rules, and follow the undirected wanderings of fancy, we can form no rules to regulate our words. We may have as many fanciful ones as we please, but they will not apply in common practice. For example: poets and artists have usually attached female loveliness to angels, and placed them in the feminine gender. But they are invariably used in the masculine thro out the scriptures.

There is an apparent absurdity in saying of the ship General Williams, she is beautiful; or, of the steamboat Benjamin Franklin, she is out of date. It were far better to use no gender in such cases. But if people will continue the practice of making distinctions where there are none, they must do it from habit and whim, and not from any reason or propriety.

There are three ways in which we usually distinguish the forms of words in reference to gender. 1st. By words which are different; as boy, girl; uncle, aunt; father, mother. 2d. By a different termination of the same word; as instructor, instructress; lion, lioness; poet, poetess. Ess is a contraction from the hebrew essa, a female. 3d. By prefixing another word; as, a male child, a female child; a man servant, a maid servant; a he-goat, a she-goat.

The last consideration that attaches to nouns, is the position they occupy in written or spoken language, in relation to other words, as being agents, or objects of action. This is termed position.

There are two positions in which nouns stand in reference to their meaning and use. First, as agents of action, as David killed Goliath. Second, as objects on which action terminates; as, Richard conquered Henry. These two distinctions should be observed in the use of all nouns. But the propriety of this division will be more evident when we come to treat of verbs, their agents and objects.

It will be perceived that we have abandoned the use of the "possessive case," a distinction which has been insisted on in our grammars; and also changed the names of the other two. As we would adopt nothing that is new without first being convinced that something is needed which the thing proposed will supply; so we would reject nothing that is old, till we have found it useless and cumbersome. It will be admitted on all hands that the fewer and simpler the rules of grammar, the more readily will they be understood, and the more correctly applied. We should guard, on the one hand, against having so many as to perplex, and on the other, retain enough to apply in the correct use of language. It is on this ground that we have proposed an improvement in the names and number of cases, or positions.

The word noun signifies name, and nominative is the adjective derived from noun, and partakes of the same meaning. Hence the nominative or naming case may apply as correctly to the object as the agent. "John strikes Thomas, and Thomas strikes John." John and Thomas name the boys who strike, but in the first case John is the actor or agent and Thomas the object. In the latter it is changed. To use a nominative name is a redundancy which should be avoided. You will understand my meaning and see the propriety of the change proposed, as the mind of the learner should not be burthened with needless or irrelevant phrases.

But our main objection lies against the "possessive case." We regard it as a false and unnecessary distinction. What is the possessive case? Murray defines it as "expressing the relation of property or possession; as, my father's house." His rule of syntax is, "one substantive governs another, signifying a different thing, in the possessive or genitive case; as, my father's house." I desire you to understand the definition and use as here given. Read it over again, and be careful that you know the meaning of property, possession, and government. Now let a scholar parse correctly the example given. "Father's" is a common noun, third person, singular number, masculine gender, and governed by house:" Rule, "One noun governs another," &c. Then my father does not govern his own house, but his house him! What must be the conduct and condition of the family, if they have usurped the government of their head? "John Jones, hatter, keeps constantly for sale all kinds of boy's hats. Parse boy's. It is a noun, possessive case, governed by hats." What is the possessive case? It "signifies the relation of property or possession." Do the hats belong to the boys? Oh no. Are they the property or in the possession of the boys? Certainly not. Then what relation is there of property or possession? None at all. They belong to John Jones, were made by him, are his property, and by him are advertised for sale. He has used the word boy's to distinguish their size, quality, and fitness for boy's use.

"The master's slave." Master's is in the possessive case, and governed by slave! If grammars are true there can be no need of abolition societies, unless it is to look after the master and see that he is not abused. The rider's horse; the captain's ship; the general's army; the governor's cat; the king's subject. How false it would be to teach scholars the idea of property and government in such cases. The teacher's scholars should never learn that by virtue of their grammars, or the apostrophe and letter s, they have a right to govern their teachers; nor the mother's son, to govern his mother. Our merchants would dislike exceedingly to have the ladies understand them to signify by their advertisements that the "ladies' merino shawls, the ladies's bonnets and lace wrought veils, the ladies' gloves and elegant Thibet, silk and challa dresses, were the property of the ladies; for in that case they might claim or possess themselves of their property, and no longer trouble the merchant with the care of it.

"Peter's wife's mother lay sick of a fever." "His physician said that his disease would require his utmost skill to defeat its progress in his limbs." Phrases like these are constantly occurring, which can not be explained intelligibly by the existing grammars. In fact, the words said to be nouns in the possessive case, have changed their character, by use, from nouns to adjectives, or definitive words, and should thus be classed. Russia iron, Holland gin, China ware, American people, the Washington tavern, Lafayette house, Astor house, Hudson river, (formerly Hudson's,) Baffin's bay, Van Dieman's land, John street, Harper's ferry, Hill's bridge, a paper book, a bound book, a red book, John's book—one which John is known to use, it may be a borrowed one, but generally known as some way connected with him,—Rev. Mr. Smith's church, St. John's church, Grace church, Murray's grammar; not the property nor in the possession of Lindley Murray, neither does it govern him; for he has gone to speak a purer language than he taught on earth. It is mine. I bought it, have possessed it these ten years; but, thank fortune, am little governed by it. But more on this point when we come to the proper place. What I have said, will serve as a hint, which will enable you to see the impropriety of adopting the "possessive case."

It may be said that more cases are employed in other languages. That is a poor reason why we should break the barriers of natural language. Beside, I know not how we should decide by that rule, for none of them have a case that will compare with the English possessive. The genitive of the French, Latin, or Greek, will apply in only a few respects. The former has three, the latter five, and the Latin six cases, neither of which correspond with the possessive, as explained by Murray and his satellites. We should be slow to adopt into our language an idiom which does not belong to it, and compel learners to make distinctions where none exist. It is an easy matter to tell children that the apostrophe and letter s marks the possessive case; but when they ask the difference in the meaning between the use of the noun and those which all admit are adjectives, it will be no indifferent task to satisfy them. What is the difference in the construction of language or the sense conveyed, between Hudson's river, and Hudson river? Davis's straits, or Bass straits? St. John's church, or Episcopal church? the sun's beams, or sun shine? In all cases these words are used to define the succeeding noun. They regard "property or possession," only when attending circumstances, altogether foreign from any quality in the form or meaning of the word itself, are so combined as to give it that import. And in such cases, we retain these words as adjectives, long after the property has passed from the hands of the persons who gave it a name. Field's point, Fuller's rocks, Fisher's island, Fulton's invention, will long be retained after those whose names were given to distinguish these things, have slept with their fathers and been forgotten. Blannerhassett's Island, long since ceased to be his property or tranquil possession, by confiscation; but it will retain its specific name, till the inundations of the Ohio's waters shall have washed it away and left not a wreck behind.

The distinctions I have made in the positions of nouns, will be clearly understood when we come to the verbs. A few remarks upon pronouns will close the present lecture.

PRONOUNS.

Pronouns are such as the word indicates. Pro is the latin word for; pro-nomen, for nouns. They are words, originally nouns, used specifically for other nouns, to avoid the too frequent repetition of the same words; as, Washington was the father of his country; he was a valiant officer. We ought to respect him. The word we, stands for the speaker and all present, and saves the trouble of naming them; he and him, stand for Washington, to avoid the monotony which would be produced by a recurrence of his name.

Pronouns are all of one kind, and few in number. I will give you a list of them in their respective positions.

Agents. Objects. { 1st person, I, me, { 2d " thou, thee, Singular { 3d " mas. { he, him, { " fem. { she, her, { it, it.

{ 1st person, we, us, Plural { 2d " ye, or you, you, { 3d " they, them, who, whom.

The two last may be used in either person, number, or gender.

The frequent use of these words render them very important, in the elegant and rapid use of language. They are so short, and their sound so soft and easy, that the frequency of their recurrence does not mar the beauty of a sentence, but saves us from the redundancy of other words. They are substituted only when there is little danger of mistaking the nouns for which they stand. They are, however, sometimes used in a very broad sense; as, "they say it is so;" meaning no particular persons, but the general sentiment. It frequently takes the lead of a sentence, and the thing represented by it comes after; as, "It is currently reported, that things were thus and so." Here it represents the single idea which is afterward stated at length. "It is so." "It may be that the nations will be destroyed by wars, earthquakes, and famines." But more of this when we come to speak of the composition of sentences.

The words now classed as pronouns were originally names of things, but in this character they have long been obsolete. They are now used only in their secondary character as the representatives of other words. The word he, for instance, signified originally to breathe. It was applied to the living beings who inhaled air. It occurs with little change in the various languages of Europe, ancient and modern, till at length it is applied to the male agent which lives and acts. The word her means light, but is specifically applied to females which are the objects of action.

Was it in accordance with the design of these lectures, it would give me pleasure to go into a minute examination of the origin, changes and meaning of these words till they came to be applied as specific words of exceeding limited character. Most of them might be traced thro all the languages of Europe; the Arabic, Persic, Arminian, Chaldean, Hebrew, and, for ought I know, all the languages of Asia. But as they are now admitted a peculiar position in the expression of thought from which they never vary; and as we are contending about philosophic principles rather than verbal criticisms, I shall forbear a further consideration of these words.

In the proper place I shall consider those words formerly called "Adjective Pronouns," "Pronoun Adjectives," or "Pronominal Adjectives," to suit the varying whims of those grammar makers, who desired to show off a speck of improvement in their "simplifying" works without ever having a new idea to express. It is a query in some minds whether the seventy-two "simplifiers" and "improvers" of Murray's grammar ever had any distinct notions in their heads which they did not obtain from the very man, who, it would seem by their conduct, was unable to explain his own meaning.



LECTURE VI.

ON ADJECTIVES.

Definition of adjectives.—General character.—Derivation.—How understood.—Defining and describing.—Meaning changes to suit the noun.—Too numerous.—Derived from nouns.—Nouns and verbs made from adjectives.—Foreign adjectives.—A general list.—Difficult to be understood.—An example.—Often superfluous.—Derived from verbs.—Participles.—Some prepositions.—Meaning unknown.—With.— In.—Out.—Of.

The most important sub-division of words is the class called Adjectives, which we propose to notice this evening. Adjective signifies added or joined to. We employ the term in grammar to designate that class of words which are added to nouns to define or describe them. In doing this, we strictly adhere to the principles we have already advanced, and do not deviate from the laws of nature, as developed in the regulation of speech.

In speaking of things, we had occasion to observe that the mind not only conceived ideas of things, but of their properties; as, the hardness of flint; the heat of fire; and that we spoke of one thing in reference to another. We come now to consider this subject more at large.

In the use of language the mind first rests on the thing which is present before it, or the word which represents the idea of that thing. Next it observes the changes and attitudes of these things. Thirdly, it conceives ideas of their qualities and relations to other things. The first use of these words is to name things. This we call nouns. The second is to express their actions. This we call verbs. The last is to define or describe things. This we call adjectives. There is a great similarity between the words used to name things and to express their actions; as, builders build buildings; singers sing songs; writers write writings; painters paint paintings. In the popular use of language we vary these words to avoid the monotony and give pleasantness and variety. We say builders erect houses, barns, and other buildings; singers perform pieces of music; musicians play tunes; the choir sing psalm tunes; artists paint pictures.

From these two classes a third is derived which partakes somewhat of the nature of both, and yet from its secondary use, it has obtained a distinctive character, and as such is allowed a separate position among the classes of words.

It might perhaps appear more in order to pass the consideration of adjectives till we have noticed the character and use of verbs, from which an important portion of them is derived. But as they are used in connexion with nouns, and as the character they borrow from the verb will be readily understood, I have preferred to retain the old arrangement, and consider them in this place.

Adjectives are words added to nouns to define or describe them. They are derived either, 1st, from nouns; as, window glass, glass window, a stone house, building stone, maple sugar, sugar cane; or, 2d, from verbs; as, a written paper, a printed book, a painted house, a writing desk. In the first case we employ one noun, or the name of one thing, to define another, thus giving it a secondary use. A glass window is one made of glass, and not of any thing else. It is neither a board window, nor a paper window. Maple sugar is not cane sugar, nor beet sugar, nor molasses sugar; but it may be brown sugar, if it has been browned, or white if it has been whited or whitened. In this case, you at once perceive the correctness of our second proposition, in the derivation of adjectives from verbs, by which we describe a thing in reference to its condition, in some way affected by the operation of a prior action. A printed book is one on which the action of printing has been performed. A written book differs from the former, in as much as its appearance was produced by writing and not by printing.

In the definition or description of things, whatever is best understood is employed as a definitive or descriptive term, and is attached to the object to make known its properties and relations. Speaking of nations, if we desire to distinguish some from others, we choose the words supposed to be best known, and talk of European, African, American, or Indian nations; northern, southern, eastern, or western nations. These last words are used in reference to their relative position, and may be variously understood; for we speak of the northern, eastern, western, and southern nations of Europe, of Africa, and the world.

Again, we read of civilized, half-civilized, and barbarous nations; learned, unlearned, ignorant, and enlightened; rich, powerful, enterprising, respected, ancient or modern, christian, mahomedan or pagan. In these, and a thousand similar cases, we decide the meaning, not alone from the word employed as an adjective, but from the subject of remark; for, were we to attach the same meaning to the same word, wherever used, we could not receive correct or definite impressions from the language of others—our inferences would be the most monstrous. A great mountain and a great pin, a great continent and a great farm, a great ocean and a great pond, a great grammar and a great scholar, refer to things of very different dimensions and character; or, as Mr. Murray would say, "qualities." A mountain is great by comparison with other mountains; and a pin, compared with other pins, may be very large—exceeding great—and yet fall very far short of the size of a very small mountain. A small man may be a great scholar, and a rich neighbor a poor friend. A sweet flower is often very bitter to the taste. A good horse would make a bad dinner, but false grammar can never make true philologists.

All words are to be understood according to their use. Their meaning can be determined in no other way. Many words change their forms to express their relations, but fewer in our language than in most others, ancient or modern. Other words remain the same, or nearly so, in every position; noun, adjective, or verb, agent or object, past or present. To determine whether a word is an adjective, first ascertain whether it names a thing, defines or describes it, or expresses its action, and you will never be at a loss to know to what class it belongs.

The business of adjectives is twofold, and they may be distinguished by the appellations of defining or describing adjectives. This distinction is in many cases unimportant; in others it is quite essential. The same word in one case may define, in others describe the object, and occasionally do both, for we often specify things by their descriptions. The learner has only to ascertain the meaning and use of the adjective to decide whether it defines or describes the subject of remark. If it is employed to distinguish one thing from the general mass, or one class from other classes, it has the former character; but after such thing is pointed out, if it is used to give a description of its character or properties, its character is different, and should be so understood and explained.

Defining adjectives are used to point out, specify or distinguish certain things from others of their kind, or one sort from other sorts, and answer to the questions which, what, how many, or how much.

Describing adjectives express the character and qualities of things, and give a more full and distinct knowledge than was before possessed.

In a case before mentioned, we spoke of the "Indian nations." The word Indian was chosen to specify or define what nations were alluded to. But all may not decide alike in this case. Some may think we meant the aborigines of America; others, that the southern nations of Asia were referred to. This difficulty originates in a misapprehension of the definitive word chosen. India was early known as the name of the south part of Asia, and the people there, were called Indians. When Columbus discovered the new world, supposing he had reached the country of India, which had long been sought by a voyage round the coast of Africa, he named it India, and the people Indians. But when the mistake was discovered, and the truth fully known, instead of effecting a change in the name already very generally understood, and in common use, another word was chosen to distinguish between countries so opposite and West India became the word to distinguish the newly discovered islands; and as India was little better known in Europe at that time, instead of retaining their old name unaltered, another word was prefixed, and they called it East India. When, therefore, we desire to be definite, we retain these words, and say, East Indians and West Indians. Without this distinction, we should understand the native people of our own country; but in Europe, Asia, and Africa, they would think we alluded to those in Asia. So with all other adjectives which are not understood. Indian, as an adjective, may also be employed to describe the character and condition of the aborigines. We talk of an indian temper, indian looks, indian blankets, furs, &c.

In writing and conversation we should employ words to explain, to define and describe, which are better understood than those things of which we speak. The pedantry of some modern writers in this respect is ridiculous. Not satisfied to use plain terms which every body can understand, they hunt the dictionaries from alpha to omega, and not unfrequently overleap the "king's english," and ransack other languages to find an unheard of word, or a list of adjectives never before arranged together, in so nice a manner, so that their ideas are lost to the common reader, if not to themselves. This fault may be alleged against too many of our public speakers, as well as the affected gentry of the land. They are like Shakspeare's Gratiano, "who speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice; his reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them; and, when you have found them, they are not worth the search." Such sentences remind us of the painting of the young artist who drew the form of an animal, but apprehensive that some might mistake it, wrote under it, "This is a horse."

In forming our notions of what is signified by an adjective, the mind should pause to determine the meaning of such word when used as a distinct name for some object, in order to determine the import of it in this new capacity. A tallow candle is one made of a substance called tallow, and is employed to distinguish it from wax or spermaceti candles. The adjective in this case, names the article of which the candle is made, and is thus a noun, but, as we are not speaking of tallow, but of candles, we place it in a new relation, and give it a new grammatical character. But you will perceive the correctness of a former assertion, that all words may be reduced to two classes, and that adjectives are derived from nouns or verbs.

But you may inquire if there are not some adjectives in use which have no corresponding verb or noun from which they are derived. There are many words in our language which in certain uses have become obsolete, but are retained in others. We now use some words as verbs which originally were known only as nouns, and others as nouns which are unknown as verbs. We also put a new construction upon words and make nouns, verbs and adjectives promiscuously and with little regard to rule or propriety. Words at one time unknown become familiar by use, and others are laid aside for those more new or fashionable. These facts are so obvious that I shall be excused from extending my remarks to any great length. But I will give an example which will serve as a clew to the whole. Take the word happy, long known only as an adjective. Instead of following this word back to its primitive use and deriving it directly from its noun, or as a past participle, such as it is in truth, we have gone forward and made from it the noun happiness, and, in more modern days, are using the verb happify, a word, by the way, in common use, but which has not yet been honored with a place in our dictionaries; altho Mr. Webster has given us, as he says, the unauthorised (un-author-ised) word "happifying." Perhaps he had never heard or read some of our greatest savans, who, if not the authors, employ the word happify very frequently in the pulpit and halls of legislation, and at the bar, as well as in common parlance.

Happy is the past participle of the verb to hap, or, as afterwards used, with a nice shade of change in the meaning, to happen. It means happied, or made happy by those favorable circumstances which have happened to us. Whoever will read our old writers no further back than Shakspeare, will at once see the use and changes of this word. They will find it in all its forms, simple and compound, as a verb, noun, and adjective. "It may hap that he will come." It happened as I was going that I found my lost child, and was thereby made quite happy. The man desired to happify himself and family without much labor, so he engaged in speculation; and happily he was not so hapless in his pursuit of happiness as often happens to such hap-hazard fellows, for he soon became very happy with a moderate fortune.

But to the question. There are many adjectives in our language which are borrowed from foreign words. Instead of adjectiving our own nouns we go to our neighbors and adjective and anglicise [english-ise] their words, and adopt the pampered urchins into our own family and call them our favorites. It is no wonder that they often appear aukward and unfamiliar, and that our children are slow in forming an intimate acquaintance with them. You are here favored with a short list of these words which will serve as examples, and enable you to comprehend my meaning and apply it in future use. Some of them are regularly used as adjectives, with or without change; others are not.

ENGLISH NOUNS. FOREIGN ADJECTIVES.

Alone Sole, solitary Alms Eleemosynary Age Primeval Belief Credulous Blame Culpable Breast Pectoral Being Essential Bosom Graminal, sinuous Boy, boyish Puerile Blood, bloody Sanguinary, sanguine Burden Onerous Beginning Initial Boundary Conterminous Brother Fraternal Bowels Visceral Body Corporeal Birth Natal, native Calf Vituline Carcass Cadaverous Cat Feline Cow Vaccine Country Rural, rustic Church Ecclesiastical Death Mortal Dog Canine Day Diurnal, meridian, ephemeral Disease Morbid East Oriental Egg Oval Ear Auricular Eye Ocular Flesh Carnal, carnivorous Father Paternal Field Agrarian Flock Gregarious Foe Hostile Fear Timorous, timid Finger Digital Flattery Adulatory Fire Igneous Faith Fiducial Foot Pedal Groin Inguinal Guardian Tutelar Glass Vitreous Grape Uveous Grief Dolorous Gain Lucrative Help Auxiliary Heart Cordial, cardiac Hire Stipendiary Hurt Noxious Hatred Odious Health Salutary, salubrious Head Capital, chief Ice Glacial Island Insular King Regal, royal Kitchen Culinary Life Vital, vivid, vivarious Lungs Pulmonary Lip Labial Leg Crural, isosceles Light Lucid, luminous Love Amorous Lust Libidinous Law Legal, loyal Mother Maternal Money Pecuniary Mixture Promiscuous, miscellaneous Moon Lunar, sublunary Mouth Oral Marrow Medulary Mind Mental Man Virile, male, human, masculine Milk Lacteal Meal Ferinaceous Nose Nasal Navel Umbilical Night Nocturnal, equinoctial Noise Obstreperous One First Parish Parochial People Popular, populous, public, epidemical, endemical Point Punctual Pride Superb, haughty Plenty Copious Pitch Bituminous Priest Sacerdotal Rival Emulous Root Radical Ring Annular Reason Rational Revenge Vindictive Rule Regular Speech Loquacious, garrulous, eloquent Smell Olfactory Sight Visual, optic, perspicuous, conspicuous Side Lateral, collateral Skin Cutaneous Spittle Salivial Shoulder Humeral Shepherd Pastoral Sea Marine, maritime Share Literal Sun Solar Star Astral, sideral, stellar Sunday Dominical Spring Vernal Summer Estival Seed Seminal Ship Naval, nautical Shell Testaceous Sleep Soporiferous Strength Robust Sweat Sudorific Step Gradual Sole Venal Two Second Treaty Federal Trifle Nugatory Tax Fiscal Time Temporal, chronical Town Oppidan Thanks Gratuitous Theft Furtive Threat Minatory Treachery Insidious Thing Real Throat Jugular, gutteral Taste Insipid Thought Pensive Thigh Femoral Tooth Dental Tear Lachrymal Vessel Vascular World Mundane Wood Sylvan, savage Way Devious, obvious, impervious, trivial Worm Vermicular Whale Cutaceous Wife Uxorious Word Verbal, verbose Weak Hebdomadal Wall Mural Will Voluntary, spontaneous Winter Brumal Wound Vulnerary West Occidental War Martial Women Feminine, female, effeminate Year Annual, anniversary, perennial, triennial

Such are some of the adjectives introduced into our language from other nations. The list will enable you to discover that when we have no adjective of our own to correspond with the noun, we borrow from our neighbors an adjective derived from one of their nouns, to which we give an english termination. For example:

English Noun. Latin Noun. Adjective.

Boy Puer Puerile Grief Dolor Dolorous Thought Pensa Pensive Wife Uxor Uxorious Word Verbum Verbal, verbose Year Annum Annual Body Corpus Corporeal Head Caput Capital Church Ekklesia (Greek) Ecclesiastical King Roi (French) Royal Law Loi " Loyal

It is exceedingly difficult to understand the adjectives of many nouns with which we are familiar, from the fact above stated, that they are derived from other languages, and not our own. The most thoro scholars have found this task no easy affair. Most grammarians have let it pass unobserved; but every person has seen the necessity of some explanation upon this point, to afford a means of ascertaining the etymological derivation and meaning of these words. I would here enter farther into this subject, but I am reminded that I am surpassing the limits set me for this course of lectures.

The attention I have bestowed on this part of the present subject, will not be construed into a mere verbal criticism. It has been adopted to show you how, in the definition or description of things, the mind clings to one thing to gain some information concerning another. When we find a thing unlike any thing else we have ever known, in form, in size, in color, in every thing; we should find it a difficult task, if not an impossibility, to describe it to another in a way to give any correct idea of it. Having never seen its like before, we can say little of its character. We may give it a name, but that would not be understood. We could say it was as large as—no, it had no size; that it was like—but no, it had no likeness; that it resembled—no, it had no resemblance. How could we describe it? What could we say of it? Nothing at all.

What idea could the Pacha of Egypt form of ice, having never seen any till the french chemists succeeded in freezing water in his presence? They told him of ice; that it was cold; that it would freeze; that whole streams were often frozen over, so that men and teams could walk over them. He believed no such thing—it was a "christian lie." This idea was confirmed on the first trial of the chemists, which failed of success. But when, on the second attempt, they succeeded, he was all in raptures. A new field was open before him. New ideas were produced in his mind. New qualities were learned; and he could now form some idea of the ice bergs of the north; of frozen regions, which he had never seen; of icy hearts, and storms of frozen rain.

We often hear it said, such a man is very stoical; another is an epicurean; and another is a bacchanal, or bacchanalian. But what idea should we form of such persons, if we had never read of the Stoics and their philosophy; of Epicurus and his notions of happiness and duty; or of Bacchus, the god of wine and revelry, whose annual feasts, or Dionysia, were celebrated with the most extravagant licentiousness thro out Greece and Rome, till put down by the Senate of the latter.

You can not fail to see the importance of the knowledge on which we here insist. The meaning you attach to words is exceedingly diverse; and hence you are not always able to think alike, or understand each other, nor derive the same sentiment from the same language. The contradictory opinions which exist in the world may be accounted for, in a great measure, in this way. Our knowledge of many things of which we speak, is limited, either from lack of means, or disposition to employ them. People always differ and contend most about things of which they know the least. Did we all attach the same meaning to the same words, our opinions would all be the same, as true as the forty-fifth problem of Euclid. How important, then, that children should always be taught the same meaning of words, and learn to use them correctly. Etymology, viewed in this light, is a most important branch of science.

Whenever a word is sufficiently understood, no adjective should be connected with it. There is a ridiculous practice among many people, of appending to every noun one or more adjectives, which have no other effect than to expose their own folly. Some writers are so in the habit of annexing adjectives to all nouns, that they dare not use one without. You will not unfrequently see adjectives different in form, added to a noun of very similar meaning; as, sad melancholy, an ominous sign, this mundane earth, pensive thoughts.

When words can be obtained, which not only name the object, but also describe its properties, it should be preferred to a noun with an adjective; as pirate, for sea robber; savan, for a learned or wise man.[4]

In relation to that class of adjectives derived from verbs, we will be brief. They include what have been termed participles, not a distinct "part of speech," but by some included in the verbs. We use them as adjectives to describe things as standing in some relation to other things on the account of the action expressed by the verb from which they are derived. "The man is respected." Respected, in this case, describes the man in such a relation to those who have become acquainted with his good qualities, that he now receives their respect. He is respectable, (able to command, or worthy of respect,) and of course, respected for his respectability. To avoid repetition, we select different words to assist in the expression of a complex idea. But I indulge in phrases like the above, to show the nice shades of meaning in the common use of words, endeavoring to analyze, as far as possible, our words and thoughts, and show their mutual connexion and dependencies.

What has been termed the "present participle" is also an adjective, describing things in their present condition in reference to actions. "The man is writing." Here, writing describes the man in his present employment. But the consideration of this matter more properly belongs to the construction of sentences.

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There is another class or variety of words properly belonging to this division of grammar, which may as well be noticed in this place as any other. I allude to those words generally called "Prepositions." We have not time now to consider them at large, but will give you a brief view of our opinion of them, and reserve the remainder of our remarks till we come to another part of these lectures.

Most of the words called prepositions, in books of grammar, are participles, derived from verbs, many of which are still in use, but some are obsolete. They are used in the true character of adjectives, describing one thing by its relation to another. But their meaning has not been generally understood. Our dictionaries have afforded no means by which we can trace their etymology. They have been regarded as a kind of cement to stick other words together, having no meaning or importance in themselves.[5] Until their meaning is known, we can not reasonably expect to draw them from their hiding places, and give them a respectable standing in the transmission of thought.

Many words, from the frequency of their use, fail to attract our attention as much as those less employed; not because they are less important, but because they are so familiarly known that the operations of thought are not observed in the choice made of them to express ideas. If we use words of which little is known, we ponder well before we adopt them, to determine whether the sense usually attached to them accords exactly with the notions we desire to convey by them. The same can not be said of small words which make up a large proportion of our language, and are, in fact, more necessary than the others, in as much as their meaning is more generally known. Those who employ carriages to convey their bodies, observe little of their construction, unless there is something singular or fine in their appearance. The common parts are unobserved, yet as important as the small words used in the common construction of language, the vehicle of thought. As the apostle says of the body politic, "those members of the body, which seem to be more feeble, are necessary;" so the words least understood by grammarians are most necessary in the correct formation of language.

It is an easy matter to get along with the words called prepositions, after they are all learned by rote; but when their meaning and use are inquired into, the best grammarians have little to say of them.

A list of prepositions, alphabetically arranged, is found in nearly every grammar, which scholars are required to commit to memory, without knowing any thing of their meaning or use, only that they are prepositions when an objective word comes after them, because the books say so; but occasionally the same words occur as adverbs and adjectives. There is, however, no trouble in "parsing" them, unless the list is forgotten. In that case, you will see the pupil, instead of inquiring after the meaning and duty of the word, go to the book and search for it in the lists of prepositions or conjunctions; or to the dictionary, to see if there is a "prep." appended to it. What will children ever learn of language in this way? Of what avail is all such grammar teaching? As soon as they leave school it is all forgotten; and you will hear them say, at the very time they should be reaping the harvest of former toil, that they once understood grammar, but it is all gone from them. Poor souls! their memory is very treacherous, else they have never learned language as they ought. There is a fault somewhere. To us it is not difficult to determine where it is.

That certain words are prepositions, there can be no doubt, because the books say they are; but why they are so, is quite another matter. All we desire is to have their meaning understood. Little difficulty will then be found in determining their use.

I have said they are derived from verbs, many of which are obsolete. Some are still in use, both as verbs and nouns. Take for example the word with. This word signifies joined or united. It is used to show that two things are some how joined together so that they are spoke of in connexion. It frequently occurs in common conversation, as a verb and noun, but not as frequently in the books as formerly. The farmer says to his hired man, "Go and get a withe and come and withe up the fence;" that is, get some pliant twigs of tough wood, twist them together, and withe or bind them round these posts, so that one may stand firm with, or withed to, the other. A book with a cover, is one that has a cover joined, bound, or attached to it. "A father with a son, a man with an estate, a nation with a constitution." In all such cases with expresses the relation between the two things mentioned, produced by a union or connexion with each other.[6]

In is used in the same way. It is still retained as a noun and is suspended on the signs of many public houses. "The traveller's inn," is a house where travellers in themselves, or go in, for entertainment. It occurs frequently in Shakspeare and in more modern writers, as a verb, and is still used in common conversation as an imperative. "Go, in the crops of grain." "In with you." "In with it." In describes one thing by its relation to another, which is the business of adjectives. It admits of the regular degrees of comparison; as, in, inner, innermost or inmost. It also has its compounds. Instep, the inner part of the foot, inlet, investment, inheritance. In this capacity it is extensively used under its different shades of meaning which I cannot stop to notice.

Of signifies divided, separated, or parted. "The ship is off the coast." "I am bound off, and you are bound out." "A part of a pencil," is that part which is separated from the rest, implying that the act of separating, or offing, has taken place. "A branch of the tree." There is the tree; this branch is from it. "Our communication was broken off several years ago." "Sailors record their offings, and parents love their offspring," or those children which sprung from them.[7] "We also are his offspring;" that is, sprung from God.[8] In all these, and every other case, you will perceive the meaning of the word, and its office will soon appear essential in the expression of thought. Had all the world been a compact whole, nothing ever separated from it, we could never speak of a part of it, for we could never have such an idea. But we look at things, as separated, divided, parted; and speak of one thing as separated from the others. Hence, when we speak of the part of the earth we inhabit, we, in imagination, separate it from some other part, or the general whole. We can not use this word in reference to a thing which is indivisible, because we can conceive no idea of a part of an indivisible thing. We do not say, a portion of our mind taken as a whole, but as capable of division. A share of our regards, supposes that the remainder is reserved for something else.

Out, outer or utter, outermost or utmost, admits of the same remark as in.

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In this manner, we might explain a long list of words, called adverbs, conjunctions, and prepositions. But I forbear, for the present, the further consideration of this subject, and leave it for another lecture.



LECTURE VII.

ON ADJECTIVES.

Adjectives.—How formed.—The syllable ly.—Formed from proper nouns.—The apostrophe and letter s.—Derived from pronouns.— Articles.—A comes from an.—Indefinite.—The.—Meaning of a and the.—Murray's example.—That.—What.—"Pronoun adjectives."—Mon, ma.—Degrees of comparison.—Secondary adjectives.—Prepositions admit of comparison.

We resume the consideration of Adjectives. The importance of this class of words in the expression of our thoughts, is my excuse for bestowing upon it so much labor. Had words always been used according to their primitive meaning, there would be little danger of being misunderstood. But the fact long known, "Verba mutanter"—words change—has been the prolific source of much of the diversity of opinion, asperity of feeling, and apparent misconstruction of other's sentiments, which has disturbed society, and disgraced mankind. I have, in a former lecture, alluded to this point, and call it up in this place to prepare your minds to understand what is to be said on the secondary use of words in the character of adjectives.

I have already spoken of adjectives in general, as derived from nouns and verbs, and was somewhat particular upon the class sometimes called prepositions, which describe one thing by its relation to another, produced by some action which has placed them in such relation. We will now pass to examine a little more minutely into the character and use of certain adjectives, and the manner of their derivation.

We commence with those derived from nouns, both common and proper, which are somewhat peculiar in their character. I wish you distinctly to bear in mind the use of adjectives. They are words added to nouns to define or describe them.

Many words which name things, are used as adjectives, with out change; as, ox beef, beef cattle, paper books, straw hats, bonnet paper. Others admit of change, or addition; as, national character, a merciful (mercy-ful) man, a gloomy prospect, a famous horse, a golden ball. The syllables which are added, are parts of words, which are at first compounded with them, till, by frequency of use, they are incorporated into the same word. "A merciful man" is one who is full of mercy. A golden ball is one made of gold. This word is sometimes used without change; as, a gold ring.

A numerous portion of these words take the syllable ly, contracted from like, which is still retained in many words; as, Judas-like, lady-like, gentleman-like. These two last words, are of late, occasionally used as other words, ladyly, gentlemanly; but the last more frequently than the former. She behaved very ladily, or ladylike; and his appearance was quite gentlemanly. But to say ladily appearance, does not yet sound quite soft enough; but it is incorrect only because it is uncommon. Godly and godlike are both in use, and equally correct, with a nice shade of difference in meaning.

All grammarians have found a difficulty in the word like, which they were unable to unravel. They could never account for its use in expressing a relation between two objectives. They forgot that to be like, one thing must be likened to another, and that it was the very meaning of this word to express such likeness. John looks like his brother. The looks, the countenance, or appearance of John, are likened to his brother's looks or appearance. "This machine is more like the pattern than any I have seen." Here the adjective like takes the comparative degree, as it is called, to show a nearer resemblance than has been before observed between the things compared. "He has a statesman-like appearance." I like this apple, because it agrees with my taste; it has qualities like my notion of what is palateable." In every situation the word is used to express likeness between two things. It describes one thing by its likeness to another.

Many adjectives are formed from proper nouns by adding an apostrophe and the letter s, except when the word ends in s, in which case the final s is usually omitted for the sake of euphony. This, however, was not generally adopted by old writers. It is not observed in the earliest translations of the Bible into the english language. It is now in common practice. Thus, Montgomery's monument in front of St. Paul's church; Washington's funeral; Shay's rebelion; England's bitterest foes; Hamlet's father's ghost; Peter's wife's mother; Todd's, Walker's, Johnson's dictionary; Winchell's Watts' hymns; Pond's Murray's grammar. No body would suppose that the "relation of property or possession" was expressed in these cases, as our grammar books tell us, but that the terms employed are used to define certain objects, about which we are speaking. They possess the true character and use of adjectives, and as such let them be regarded. It must be as false as frivolous to say that Montgomery, who nobly fell at the siege of Quebec, owns the monument erected over his remains, which were conveyed to New-York many years after his death; or that St. Paul owns or possesses the church beneath which they were deposited; that Hamlet owned his father, and his father his ghost; that Todd owns Walker, and Walker owns Johnson, and Johnson his dictionary which may have had a hundred owners, and never been the property of its author, but printed fifty years after his death. These words, I repeat, are merely definitive terms, and like others serve to point out or specify particular objects which may thus be better known.

Words, however, in common use form adjectives the same as other words; as, Russia iron, China ships, India silks, Vermont cheese, Orange county butter, New-York flour, Carolina potatoes. Morocco leather was first manufactured in a city of Africa called by that name, but it is now made in almost every town in our country. The same may be said of Leghorn hats, Russia binding, French shoes, and China ware. Although made in our own country we still retain the words, morocco, leghorn, russia, french, and china, to define the fashion, kind, or quality of articles to which we allude. Much china ware is made in Liverpool, which, to distinguish it from the real, is called liverpool china. Many french shoes are made in Lynn, and many Roxbury russets, Newton pippins, and Rhode-Island greenings, grow in Vermont.

It may not be improper here to notice the adjectives derived from pronouns, which retain so much of their character as relates to the persons who employ them. These are my, thy, his, her, its, our, your, their, whose. This is my book, that is your pen, this is his knife, and that is her letter. Some of these, like other words, vary their ending when standing alone; as, two apples are yours, three hers, six theirs, five ours, and the rest mine. His does not alter in popular use. Hence the reason why you hear it so often, in common conversation, when standing without the noun expressed, pronounced as if written hisen. The word other, and some others, come under the same remark. When the nouns specified are expressed, they take the regular termination; as, give me these Baldwin apples, and a few others—a few other apples.

* * * * *

There is a class of small words which from the frequency of their use have, like pronouns, lost their primitive character, and are now preserved only as adjectives. Let us examine a few of them by endeavoring to ferret out their true meaning and application in the expression of ideas. We will begin with the old articles, a, an, and the, by testing the truth and propriety of the duty commonly assigned to them in our grammars.

The standard grammar asserts that "an article is a word prefixed to substantives, to point them out, and to show how far their signification extends; as, "a garden, an eagle, the woman." Skepticism in grammar is no crime, so we will not hesitate to call in question the correctness of this "best of all grammars beyond all comparison." Let us consider the very examples given. They were doubtless the best that could be found. Does a "point out" the garden, or "show how far its signification extends?" It does neither of these things. It may name "any" garden, and it certainly does not define whether it is a great or a small one. It simply determines that one garden is the subject of remark. All else is to be determined by the word garden.

We are told there are two articles, the one indefinite, the other definite—a is the former, and the the latter. I shall leave it with you to reconcile the apparent contradiction of an indefinite article which "is used in a vague sense, to point out the signification of another word." But I challenge teachers to make their pupils comprehend such a jargon, if they can do it themselves. But it is as good sense as we find in many of the popular grammars of the day.

Again, Murray says "a becomes an before a vowel or silent h;" and so say all his simplifying satellites after him. Is such the fact? Is he right? He is, I most unqualifiedly admit, with this little correction, the addition of a single word—he is right wrong! Instead of a becoming an, the reverse is the fact. The word is derived directly from the same word which still stands as our first numeral. It was a short time since written ane, as any one may see by consulting all old books. By and by it dropped the e, and afterwards, for the sake of euphony, in certain cases, the n, so that now it stands a single letter. You all have lived long enough to have noticed the changes in the word. Formerly we said an union, an holiday, an universalist, an unitarian, &c., expressions which are now rarely heard. We now say a union, &c. This single instance proves that arbitrary rules of grammar have little to do in the regulation of language. Its barriers are of sand, soon removed. It will not be said that this is an unimportant mistake, for, if an error, it is pernicious, and if a grammarian knows enough to say that a becomes an, he ought to know that he tells a falsehood, and that an becomes a under certain circumstances. Mr. Murray gives the following example to illustrate the use of a. "Give me a book; that is, any book." How can the learner understand such a rule? How will it apply? Let us try it. "A man has a wife;" that is, any man has any wife. I have a hat; that is, any hat. A farmer has a farm—any farmer has any farm. A merchant in Boston has a beautiful piece of broadcloth—any merchant in Boston has any beautiful piece of broadcloth. A certain king of Europe decreed a protestant to be burned—any king of Europe decreed any protestant to be burned. How ridiculous are the rules we have learned and taught to others, to enable them to "speak and write with propriety." No wonder we never understood grammar, if so at variance with truth and every day's experience. The rules of grammar as usually taught can never be observed in practice. Hence it is called a dry study. In every thing else we learn something that we can understand, which will answer some good purpose in the affairs of life. But this branch of science is among the things which have been tediously learned to no purpose. No good account can be given of its advantages.

The, we are told, "is called the definite article, because it ascertains what particular thing or things are meant." A most unfortunate definition, and quite as erroneous as the former. Let us try it. The stars shine, the lion roars, the camel is a beast of burden, the deer is good for food, the wind blows, the clouds appear, the Indians are abused. What is there in these examples, which "ascertain what particular thing or things are meant?" They are expressions as indefinite as we can imagine.

On the other hand, should I say a star shines, a lion roars, an Indian is abused, a wind blows, a cloud appears, you would understand me to allude very definitely to one "particular" object, as separate and distinguished from others of its kind.

But what is the wonderful peculiarity in the meaning and use of these two little words that makes them so unlike every thing else, as to demand a separate "part of speech?" You may be surprised when I tell you that there are other words in our language derived from the same source and possessed of the same meaning; but such is the fact, as will soon appear. Let us ask for the etymology of these important words. A signifies one, never more, never less. In this respect it is always definite. It is sometimes applied to a single thing, sometimes to a whole class of things, to a [one] man, or to a [one] hundred men. It may be traced thro other languages, ancient and modern, with little modification in spelling; Greek eis, ein; Latin unus; Armoric unan; Spanish and Italian uno; Portuguese hum; French un; German ein; Danish een, en; Dutch een; Swedish en; Saxon, an, aen, one—from which ours is directly derived—old English ane; and more modernly one, an, a. In all languages it defines a thing to be one, a united or congregated whole, and the word one may always be substituted without affecting the sense. From it is derived our word once, which signifies oned, united, joined, as we shall see when we come to speak of "contractions." In some languages a is styled an article, in others it is not. The Latin, for instance, has no article, and the Greek has no indefinite. But all languages have words which are like ours, pure adjectives, employed to specify certain things. The argument drawn from the fact that some other languages have articles, and therefore ours should, is fallacious. The Latin, which was surpassed for beauty of style or power in deliverance by few, if any others, never suffered from the lack of articles. Nor is there any reason why we should honor two small adjectives with that high rank to the exclusion of others quite as worthy.

The is always used as a definitive word, tho it is the least definite of the defining adjectives. In fact when we desire to "ascertain particularly what thing is meant," we select some more definite word. "Give me the books." Which? "Those with red covers, that in calf, and this in Russia binding." The nations are at peace. What nations? Those which were at war. You perceive how we employ words which are more definite, that is, better understood, to "point out" the object of conversation, especially when there is any doubt in the case. What occasion, then, is there to give these [the?] words a separate "part of speech," since in character they do not differ from others in the language?

We will notice another frivolous distinction made by Mr. Murray, merely to show how learned men may be mistaken, and the folly of trusting to special rules in the general application of words. He says, "Thou art a man," is a very general and harmless expression; but, thou art the man, (as Nathan said to David,) is an assertion capable of striking terror and remorse into the heart." The distinction in meaning here, on which he insists, attaches to the articles a and the. It is a sufficient refutation of this definition to make a counter statement. Suppose we say, "Murray is the best grammarian in the world; or, he is a fool, a knave, and a liar." Which, think you, would be considered the most harmless expression? Suppose it had been said to Aaron Burr, thou art a traitor, or to General William Hull, thou art a coward, would they regard the phrase as "harmless!" On the other hand, suppose a beautiful, accomplished, and talented young lady, should observe to one of her suitors, "I have received offers of marriage from several gentlemen besides yourself, but thou art the man of my choice;" would it, think you, strike terror and remorse into his heart? I should pity the young student of Murray whose feelings had become so stoical from the false teaching of his author as to be filled with "terror and remorse" under such favorable circumstances, while fair prospects of future happiness were thus rapidly brightening before him. I speak as to the wise, judge ye what I say.

The adjective that has obtained a very extensive application in language. However, it may seem to vary in its different positions, it still retains its primitive meaning. It is comprised of the and it, thait, theat, thaet (Saxon,) thata (Gothic,) dat (Dutch.) It is the most decided definitive in our language. It is by use applied to things in the singular, or to a multitude of things regarded as a whole. By use, it applies to a collection of ideas expressed in a sentence; as, it was resolved, that. What? Then follows that fact which was resolved. "Provided that, in case he does" so and so. "It was agreed that," that fact was agreed to which is about to be made known. I wish you to understand, all thro these lectures, that I shall honestly endeavor to expose error and establish truth. Wish you to understand what? that fact, afterwards stated, "I shall endeavor," &c. You can not mistake my meaning: that would be impossible. What would be impossible? Why, to mistake my meaning.

You can not fail to observe the true character of this word called by our grammarians "adjective pronoun," "relative pronoun," and "conjunction." They did not think to look for its meaning. Had that (duty) been done, it would have stood forth in its true character, an important defining word.

The only difficulty in the explanation of this word, originates in the fact, that it was formerly applied to the plural as well as singular number. It is now applied to the singular only when referring directly to an object; as, that man. And it never should be used otherwise. But we often see phrases like this; "These are the men that rebeled." It should be, "these are the men who rebeled." This difficulty can not be overcome in existing grammars on any other ground. In modern writings, such instances are rare. This and that are applied to the singular; these and those to the plural.

* * * * *

What is a compound of two original words, and often retains the meaning of both, when employed as a compound relative, "having in itself both the antecedent and the relative," as our authors tell us. But when it is dissected, it will readily enough be understood to be an adjective, defining things under particular relations.

But I shall weary your patience, I fear, if I stay longer in this place to examine the etymology of small words. I intended to have shown the meaning and use of many words included in the list of conjunctions, which are truly adjectives, such as both, as, so, neither, and, etc.; but I let them pass for the present, to be resumed under the head of contractions.

From the view we have given of this class of words, we are saved the tediousness of studying the grammatical distinctions made in the books, where no real distinctions exist. In character these words are like adjectives; their meaning, like the meaning of all other words, is peculiar to themselves. Let that be known, and there will be little difficulty in classing them. We need not confuse the learner with "adjective pronouns, possessive adjective pronouns, distributive adjective pronouns, demonstrative adjective pronouns, indefinite adjective pronouns," nor any other adjective pronouns, which can never be understood nor explained. Children will be slow to apprehend the propriety of a union of adjectives and pronouns, when told that the former is always used with a noun, and never for one; and the latter always for a noun, but never with one; and yet, that there is such a strange combination as a "distributive or indefinite adjective pronoun,"—"confusion worse confounded."

In the french language, the gender of adjectives is varied so as to agree with the nouns to which they belong. "Possessive pronouns," as they are called, come under the same rule, which proves them to be in character, and formation, adjectives; else the person using them must change gender. The father says, ma (feminine) fille, my daughter; and the mother, mon (masculine) fils, my son; the same as they would say, bon pere, good father; bonne mere, good mother; or, in Latin, bonus pater, or bona mater; or, in Spanish, bueno padre, buena madre. In the two last languages, as well as all others, where the adjectives vary the termination so as to agree with the noun, the same fact may be observed in reference to their "pronouns." If it is a fact that these words are pronouns, that is, stand for other nouns, then the father is feminine, and the mother is masculine; and whoever uses them in reference to the opposite sex must change gender to do so.

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Describing adjectives admit of variation to express different degrees of comparison. The regular degrees have been reckoned three; positive, comparative, and superlative. These are usually marked by changing the termination. The positive is determined by a comparison with other things; as, a great house, a small book, compared with others of their kind. This is truly a comparative degree. The comparative adds er; as, a greater house, a smaller book. The superlative, est; as, the greatest house, the smallest book.

Several adjectives express a comparison less than the positive, others increase or diminish the regular degrees; as, whitish white, very white, pure white; whiter, considerable whiter, much whiter; whitest, the very whitest, much the whitest beyond all comparison, so that there can be none whiter, nor so white.

We make an aukward use of the words great and good, in the comparison of things; as, a good deal, or great deal whiter; a good many men, or a great many men. As we never hear of a small deal, or a bad deal whiter, nor of a bad many, nor little many, it would be well to avoid such phrases.

The words which are added to other adjectives, to increase or diminish the comparison, or assist in their definition, may properly be called secondary adjectives, for such is their character. They do not refer to the thing to be defined or described, but to the adjective which is affected, in some way, by them. They are easily distinguished from the rest by noticing this fact. Take for example: "A very dark red raw silk lady's dress handkerchief." The resolution of this sentence would stand thus:

A ( ) handkerchief. A ( ) red ( ) handkerchief. A ( ) dark red ( ) handkerchief. A very dark red ( ) handkerchief. A very dark red ( ) silk ( ) handkerchief. A very dark red raw silk ( ) handkerchief. A very dark red raw silk ( ) dress handkerchief. A very dark red raw silk lady's dress handkerchief.

We might also observe that hand is an adjective, compounded by use with kerchief. It is derived from the french word couvrir, to cover, and chef, the head. It means a head dress, a cloth to cover, a neck cloth, a napkin. By habit we apply it to a single article, and speak of neck handkerchief.

The nice shade of meaning, and the appropriate use of adjectives, is more distinctly marked in distinguishing colors than in any thing else, for the simple reason, that there is nothing in nature so closely observed. For instance, take the word green, derived from grain, because it is grain color, or the color of the fair carpet of nature in spring and summer. But this hue changes from the deep grass green, to the light olive, and words are chosen to express the thousand varying tints produced by as many different objects. In the adaptation of language to the expression of ideas, we do not separate these shades of color from the things in which such colors are supposed to reside. Hence we talk of grass, pea, olive, leek, verdigris, emerald, sea, and bottle green; also, of light, dark, medium; very light, or dark grass, pea, olive, or invisible green.

Red, as a word, means rayed. It describes the appearance or substance produced when rayed, reddened, or radiated by the morning beams of the sun, or any other radiating cause.

Wh is used for qu, in white, which means quite, quited, quitted, cleared, cleansed of all color, spot, or stain.

Blue is another spelling for blew. Applied to color, it describes something in appearance to the sky, when the clouds and mists are blown away, and the clear blue ether appears.

You will be pleased with the following extract from an eloquent writer of the last century,[9] who, tho somewhat extravagant in some of his speculations, was, nevertheless, a close observer of nature, which he studied as it is, without the aid of human theories. The beauty of the style, and the correctness of the sentiment, will be a sufficient apology for its length.

"We shall employ a method, not quite so learned, to convey an idea of the generation of colors, and the decomposition of the solar ray. Instead of examining them in a prism of glass, we shall consider them in the heavens, and there we shall behold the five primordial colours unfold themselves in the order which we have indicated.

"In a fine summer's night, when the sky is loaded only with some light vapours, sufficient to stop and to refract the rays of the sun, walk out into an open plain, where the first fires of Aurora may be perceptible. You will first observe the horizon whiten at the spot where she is to make her appearance; and this radiance, from its colour, has procured for it, in the French language, the name of aube, (the dawn,) from the Latin word alba, white. This whiteness insensibly ascends in the heavens, assuming a tint of yellow some degrees above the horizon; the yellow as it rises passes into orange; and this shade of orange rises upward into the lively vermilion, which extends as far as the zenith. From that point you will perceive in the heavens behind you the violet succeeding the vermilion, then the azure, after it the deep blue or indigo colour, and, last of all, the black, quite to the westward.

"Though this display of colours presents a multitude of intermediate shades, which rapidly succeed each other, yet at the moment the sun is going to exhibit his disk, the dazzling white is visible in the horizon, the pure yellow at an elevation of forty-five degrees; the fire color in the zenith; the pure blue forty-five degrees under it, toward the west; and in the very west the dark veil of night still lingering on the horizon. I think I have remarked this progression between the tropics, where there is scarcely any horizontal refraction to make the light prematurely encroach on the darkness, as in our climates.

"Sometimes the trade-winds, from the north-east or south-east, blow there, card the clouds through each other, then sweep them to the west, crossing and recrossing them over one another, like the osiers interwoven in a transparent basket. They throw over the sides of this chequered work the clouds which are not employed in the contexture, roll them up into enormous masses, as white as snow, draw them out along their extremities in the form of a crupper, and pile them upon each other, moulding them into the shape of mountains, caverns, and rocks; afterwards, as evening approaches, they grow somewhat calm, as if afraid of deranging their own workmanship. When the sun sets behind this magnificent netting, a multitude of luminous rays are transmitted through the interstices, which produce such an effect, that the two sides of the lozenge illuminated by them have the appearance of being girt with gold, and the other two in the shade seem tinged with ruddy orange. Four or five divergent streams of light, emanated from the setting sun up to the zenith, clothe with fringes of gold the undeterminate summits of this celestial barrier, and strike with the reflexes of their fires the pyramids of the collateral aerial mountains, which then appear to consist of silver and vermilion. At this moment of the evening are perceptible, amidst their redoubled ridges, a multitude of valleys extending into infinity, and distinguishing themselves at their opening by some shade of flesh or of rose colour.

"These celestial valleys present in their different contours inimitable tints of white, melting away into white, or shades lengthening themselves out without mixing over other shades. You see, here and there, issuing from the cavernous sides of those mountains, tides of light precipitating themselves, in ingots of gold and silver, over rocks of coral. Here it is a gloomy rock, pierced through and through, disclosing, beyond the aperture, the pure azure of the firmament; there it is an extensive strand, covered with sands of gold, stretching over the rich ground of heaven; poppy-coloured, scarlet, and green as the emerald.

"The reverberation of those western colours diffuses itself over the sea, whose azure billows it glazes with saffron and purple. The mariners, leaning over the gunwale of the ship, admire in silence those aerial landscapes. Sometimes this sublime spectacle presents itself to them at the hour of prayer, and seems to invite them to lift up their hearts with their voices to the heavens. It changes every instant into forms as variable as the shades, presenting celestial colors and forms which no pencil can pretend to imitate, and no language can describe.

"Travellers who have, at various seasons, ascended to the summits of the highest mountains on the globe, never could perceive, in the clouds below them, any thing but a gray and lead-colored surface, similar to that of a lake. The sun, notwithstanding, illuminated them with his whole light; and his rays might there combine all the laws of refraction to which our systems of physics have subjected them. Hence not a single shade of color is employed in vain, through the universe; those celestial decorations being made for the level of the earth, their magnificent point of view taken from the habitation of man.

"These admirable concerts of lights and forms, manifest only in the lower region of the clouds the least illuminated by the sun, are produced by laws with which I am totally unacquainted. But the whole are reducible to five colors: yellow, a generation from white; red, a deeper shade of yellow; blue, a strong tint of red; and black, the extreme tint of blue. This progression cannot be doubted, on observing in the morning the expansion of the light in the heavens. You there see those five colors, with their intermediate shades, generating each other nearly in this order: white, sulphur yellow, lemon yellow, yolk of egg yellow, orange, aurora color, poppy red, full red, carmine red, purple, violet, azure, indigo, and black. Each color seems to be only a strong tint of that which precedes it, and a faint tint of that which follows; thus the whole together appear to be only modulations of a progression, of which white is the first term, and black the last.

"Indeed trade cannot be carried on to any advantage, with the Negroes, Tartars, Americans, and East-Indians, but through the medium of red cloths. The testimonies of travellers are unanimous respecting the preference universally given to this color. I have indicated the universality of this taste, merely to demonstrate the falsehood of the philosophic axiom, that tastes are arbitrary, or that there are in Nature no laws for beauty, and that our tastes are the effects of prejudice. The direct contrary of this is the truth; prejudice corrupts our natural tastes, otherwise the same over the whole earth.

"With red Nature heightens the brilliant parts of the most beautiful flowers. She has given a complete clothing of it to the rose, the queen of the garden: and bestowed this tint on the blood, the principle of life in animals: she invests most of the feathered race, in India, with a plumage of this color, especially in the season of love; and there are few birds without some shades, at least, of this rich hue. Some preserve entirely the gray or brown ground of their plumage, but glazed over with red, as if they had been rolled in carmine; others are besprinkled with red, as if you had blown a scarlet powder over them.

"The red (or rayed) color, in the midst of the five primordial colors, is the harmonic expression of them by way of excellence; and the result of the union of two contraries, light and darkness. There are, besides, agreeable tints, compounded of the oppositions of extremes. For example, of the second and fourth color, that is, of yellow and blue, is formed green, which constitutes a very beautiful harmony, and ought, perhaps, to possess the second rank in beauty, among colors, as it possesses the second in their generation. Nay, green appears to many, if not the most beautiful tint, at least the most lovely, because it is less dazzling than red, and more congenial to the eye."

Many words come under the example previously given to illustrate the secondary character of adjectives, which should be carefully noticed by the learner, to distinguish whether they define or describe things, or are added to increase the distinction made by the adjectives themselves, for both defining and describing adjectives admit of this addition; as, old English coin, New England rebelion; a mounted whip, and a gold mounted sword—not a gold sword; a very fine Latin scholar.

Secondary adjectives, also, admit of comparison in various ways; as, dearly beloved, a more beloved, the best beloved, the very best beloved brother.

Words formerly called "prepositions," admit of comparison, as I have before observed. "Benhadad fled into an inner chamber." The inner temple. The inmost recesses of the heart. The out fit of a squadron. The outer coating of a vessel, or house. The utmost reach of grammar. The up and down hill side of a field. The upper end of the lot. The uppermost seats. A part of the book. Take it farther off. The off cast. India beyond the Ganges. Far beyond the boundaries of the nation. I shall go to the city. I am near to the town. Near does not qualify the verb, for it has nothing to do with it. I can exist in one place as well as another. It is below the surface; very far below it. It is above the earth—"high above all height."

Such expressions frequently occur in the expression of ideas, and are correctly understood; as difficult as it may have been to describe them with the theories learned in the books—sometimes calling them one thing, sometimes another—when their character and meaning was unchanged, or, according to old systems, had "no meaning at all of their own!"

But I fear I have gone far beyond your patience, and, perhaps, entered deeper into this subject than was necessary, to enable you to discover my meaning. I desired to make the subject as distinct as possible, that all might see the important improvement suggested. I am apprehensive even now, that some will be compelled to think many profound thoughts before they will see the end of the obscurity under which they have long been shrouded, in reference to the false rules which they have been taught. But we have one consolation—those who are not bewildered by the grammars they have tried in vain to understand, will not be very likely to make a wrong use of adjectives, especially if they have ideas to express; for there is no more danger of mistaking an adjective for a noun, or verb, than there is of mistaking a horse chestnut for a chestnut horse.

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In our next we shall commence the consideration of Verbs, the most important department in the science of language, and particularly so in the system we are defending. I hope you have not been uninterested thus far in the prosecution of the subject of language, and I am confident you will not be in what remains to be said upon it. The science, so long regarded dry and uninteresting, becomes delightful and easy; new and valuable truths burst upon us at each advancing step, and we feel to bless God for the ample means afforded us for obtaining knowledge from, and communicating it to others, on the most important affairs of time and eternity.



LECTURE VIII.

ON VERBS.

Unpleasant to expose error.—Verbs defined.—Every thing acts.— Actor and object.—Laws.—Man.—Animals.—Vegetables.—Minerals.— Neutrality degrading.—Nobody can explain a neuter verb.—One kind of verbs.—You must decide.—Importance of teaching children the truth.—Active verbs.—Transitive verbs false.—Samples.—Neuter verbs examined.—Sit.—Sleep.—Stand.—Lie.—Opinion of Mrs. W.—Anecdote.