"I walk."

The action expressed by this verb is very similar in character to the former, but rather slower in performance. Writers on health tell us that to walk is a very healthy exercise, and that it would be well for men of sedentary habits to walk several miles every day. But if there is no action in walk, or if it has no object necessarily walked, it would be difficult to understand what good could result from it.

"Did you have a pleasant walk this morning?" says a teacher to his grammar class.

"We did have a very pleasant one. The flowers were blooming on each side of the walk, and sent forth their sweetest aroma, perfuming the soft breezes of the morning. Birds were flitting from spray to spray, carolling their hymns of praise to Deity. The tranquil waters of the lake lay slumbering in silence, and reflected the bright rays of the sun, giving a sweet but solemn aspect to the whole scene. To go thro the grove, down by the lake, and up thro the meadow, is the most delightful walk a person can take."

"How did you get your walk?"

"We walked it, to be sure; how did you think we got it?"

"Oh, I did not know. Walk, your books tell you, is an intransitive verb, terminating on no object; so I supposed, if you followed them, you obtained it some other way; by riding, running, sailing, or, may be, bought it, as you could not have walked it! Were you tired on your return?"

"We were exceedingly fatigued, for you know it is a very long walk, and we walked it in an hour."

"But what tired you? If there are no effects produced by walking, I can not conceive why you should be fatigued by such exercise."

Who does not perceive what flagrant violations of grammar rules are committed every day, and every hour, and in almost every sentence that is framed to express our knowledge of facts.

To step.

This verb is the same in character with the two just noticed. It expresses the act of raising each foot alternately, and usually implies that the body is, by that means, conveyed from one place to another. But as people step their feet and not their hands, or any thing else, it is entirely useless to mention the object; for generally, that can not be mistaken any more than in the case of the gloves, boots, and hat. But it would be bad philosophy to teach children that there is no objective word after it, because it is not written out and placed before their eyes. They will find such teaching contradicted at every step they take. Let a believer in intransitive verbs step on a red hot iron; he will soon find to his sorrow, that he was mistaken when he thought that he could step without stepping any thing. It would be well for grammar, as well as many other things, to have more practice and less theory. The thief was detected by his steps. Step softly; put your feet down carefully.

Birds fly.

We learned from our primers, that

"The eagle's flight Is out of sight,"

How did the eagle succeed in producing a flight? I suppose he flew it. And if birds ever fly, they must produce a flight. Such being the fact, it is needless to supply the object. But the action does not terminate solely on the flight produced, for that is only the name given to the action itself. The expression conveys to the mind the obvious fact, that, by strong muscular energy, by the aid of feathers, and the atmosphere, the bird carries itself thro the air, and changes its being from one place to another. As birds rarely fly a race, or any thing but themselves and a flight, it is not necessary to suffix the object.

It rains.

This verb is insisted on as the strongest proof of intransitive action; with what propriety, we will now inquire. It will serve as a clear elucidation of the whole theory of intransitive verbs.

What does the expression signify? It simply declares the fact, that water is shed down from the clouds. But is there no object after rains? There is none expressed. Is there nothing rained? no effect produced? If not, there can be no water fallen, and our cisterns would be as empty, our streams as low, and fields as parched, after a rain as before it! But who that has common sense, and has never been blinded by the false rules of grammar, does not know that when it rains, it never fails to rain rain, water, or rain-water, unless you have one of the paddy's dry rains? When it hails, it hails hail, hail-stones, or frozen rain. When it snows, it snows snow, sometimes two feet of it, sometimes less. I should think teachers in our northern countries would find it exceeding difficult to convince their readers that snow is an intransitive verb—that it snows nothing. And yet so it is; people will remain wedded to their old systems, and refuse to open their eyes and behold the evidences every where around them. Teachers themselves, the guides of the young—and I blush to say it, for I was long among the number—have, with their scholars, labored all the morning, breaking roads, shovelling snow, and clearing paths, to get to the school-house, and then set down and taught them that to snow is an intransitive verb. What nonsense; nay, worse, what falsehoods have been instilled into the youthful mind in the name of grammar! Can we be surprised that people have not understood grammar? that it is a dry, cold, and lifeless business?

I once lectured in Poughkeepsie, N. Y. In a conversation with Miss B., a distinguished scholar, who had taught a popular female school for twenty years; was remarking upon the subject of intransitive verbs, and the apparent inconsistency of the new system, that all verbs must have an object after them, expressed or understood; she said, "there was the verb rain, (it happened to be a rainy day,) the whole action is confined to the agent; it does not pass on to another object; it is purely intransitive." Her aged mother, who had never looked into a grammar book, heard the conversation, and very bluntly remarked, "Why, you fool you, I want to know if you have studied grammar these thirty years, and taught it more than twenty, and have never larned that when it rains it always rains rain? If it didn't, do you s'pose you'd need an umbrella to go out now into the storm? I should think you'd know better. I always told you these plaguy grammars were good for nothing, I didn't b'lieve." "Amen," said I, to the good sense of the old lady, "you are right, and have reason to be thankful that you have never been initiated into the intricate windings, nor been perplexed with the false and contradictory rules, which have blasted many bright geniuses in their earliest attempts to gain a true knowledge of the sublime principles of language, on which depends so much of the happiness of human life." The good matron's remark was a poser to the daughter, but it served as a means of her entire deliverance from the thraldom of neuter verbs, and the adoption of the new principles of the exposition of language.

The anecdote shows us how the unsophisticated mind will observe facts, and employ words as correctly, if not more so, than those schooled in the high pretensions of science, falsely taught. Who does not know from the commonest experience, that the direct object of raining must follow as the necessary sequence? that it can never fail? And yet our philologists tell us that such is not always the case; and that the exception is to be marked on the singular ground, whether the word is written out or omitted! What a narrow view of the sublime laws of motion! What a limited knowledge of things! or else, what a mistake!

"Then the Lord said unto Moses, behold, I will rain bread for you from heaven."

"Then the Lord rained down, upon Sodom and Gomorrah, brimstone and fire, from the Lord out of heaven."—Bible.

The fire burns.

The fire burns the wood, the coal, or the peat. The great fire in New-York burned the buildings which covered fifty-two acres of ground. Mr. Experiment burns coal in preference to wood. His new grate burns it very finely. Red ash coal burns the best; it makes the fewest ashes, and hence is the most convenient. The cook burns too much fuel. The house took fire and burned up. Burned what up? Burn is an intransitive verb. It would not trouble the unfortunate tenant to know that there must be an object burned, or what it was. He would find it far more difficult to rebuild his house. Do you suppose fires never burn any thing belonging to neuter verb folks? Then they never need pay away insurance money. With the solitary exception I have mentioned—the burning bush—this verb can not be intransitive.

The sun shines.

This is an intransitive verb if there ever was one, because the object is not often expressed after it. But if the sun emits no rays of light, how shall it be known whether it shines or not? "The radiance of the sun's bright beaming" is produced by the exhibition of itself, when it brightens the objects exposed to its rays or radiance. We talk of sun shine and moon shine, but if these bodies never produce effects how shall it be known whether such things are real? Sun shine is the direct effect of the sun's shining. But clouds sometimes intervene and prevent the rays from extending to the earth; but then we do not say "the sun shines." You see at once, that all we know or can know of the fact we state as truth, is derived from a knowledge of the very effects which our grammars tell us do not exist. Strange logic indeed! It is a mark of a wiser man, and a better scholar, not to know the popular grammars, than it is to profess any degree of proficiency in them!

To smile.

The smiles of the morning, the smiles of affection, a smile of kindness, are only produced by the appearance of something that smiles upon us. Smiles are the direct consequence of smiling. If a person should smile ever so sweetly and yet present no smiles, they might, for aught we could know to the contrary, be sour as vinegar.

But this verb frequently has another object after it; as, "to smile the wrinkles from the brow of age," or "smile dull cares away." "A sensible wife would soon reason and smile him into good nature."

But I need not multiply examples. When such men as Johnson, Walker, Webster, Murray, Lowthe, and a host of other wise and renowned men, gravely tell us that eat and drink, which they define, "to take food; to feed; to take a meal; to go to meals; to be maintained in food; to swallow liquors; to quench thirst; to take any liquid;" are intransitive or neuter verbs, having no objects after them, we must think them insincere, egregiously mistaken, or else possessed of a means of subsistence different from people generally! Did they eat and drink, "take food and swallow liquors," intransitively; that is, without eating or drinking any thing? Is it possible in the nature of things? Who does not see the absurdity? And yet they were great men, and nobody has a right to question such high authority. And the "simplifiers" who have come after, making books and teaching grammar to earn their bread, have followed close in their footsteps, and, I suppose, eaten nothing, and thrown their bread away! Was I a believer in neuter verbs and desired to get money, my first step would be to set up a boarding house for all believers in, and practisers of, intransitive verbs. I would board cheap and give good fare. I could afford it, for no provisions would be consumed.

Some over cautious minds, who are always second, if not last, in a good cause, ask us why these principles, if so true and clear, were not found out before? Why have not the learned who have studied for many centuries, never seen and adopted them? It is a sufficient answer to such a question, to ask why the copernican system of astronomy was not sooner adopted, why the principles of chemistry, the circulation of the blood, the power and application of steam, nay, why all improvement was not known before. When grammar and dictionary makers, those wise expounders of the principles of speech, have so far forgotten facts as to teach that eat and drink, "express neither action nor passion," or are "confined to the agents;" that when a man eats, he eats nothing, or when he drinks, he drinks nothing, we need not stop long to decide why these things were unknown before. The wisest may sometimes mistake; and the proud aspirant for success, frequently passes over, unobserved, the humble means on which all true success depends.

Allow me to quote some miscellaneous examples which will serve to show more clearly the importance of supplying the elipses, in order to comprehend the meaning of the writers, or profit by their remarks. You will supply the objects correctly from the attendant circumstances where they are not expressed.

"Ask ( ) and ye shall receive ( ); seek ( ) and ye shall find ( ); knock ( ) and it shall be opened unto you."

Ask what? Seek what? Knock what? That it may be opened? Our "Grammars Made Easy" would teach us to ask and seek nothing! no objectives after them. What then could we reasonably expect to receive or find? The thing we asked for, of course, and that was nothing! Well might the language apply to such, "Ye ask ( ) and receive not (naught) because ye ask ( ) amiss." False teaching is as pernicious to religion and morals as to science.

"Charge them that are rich in this world—that they do good, that they be rich in good works, ready to distribute ( ), willing to communicate ( )."—Paul to Timothy.

The hearer is to observe that there is no object after these words—nothing distributed, or communicated! There is too much such charity in the world.

"He spoke ( ), and it was done; he commanded ( ), and it stood fast."

"Bless ( ), and curse ( ) not."—Bible.

"Strike ( ) while the iron is hot."—Proverb.

"I came ( ), I saw ( ), I conquered ( )."—Caesar's Letter.

He lives ( ) contented and happy.

"The life that I now live, in the flesh, I live by the faith of the son of God."—Paul.

"Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his."—Numbers.

As bodily exercise particularly strengthens ( ), as it invites ( ) to sleep ( ), and secures ( ) against great disorders, it is to be generally encouraged. Gymnastic exercises may be established for all ages and for all classes. The Jews were ordered to take a walk out of the city on the Sabbath day; and here rich and poor, young and old, master and slave, met ( ) and indulged ( ) in innocent mirth or in the pleasures of friendly intercourse.—Spurzheim on Education.

"Men will wrangle ( ) for religion; write ( ) for it; fight ( ) for it; die ( ) for it; any thing but live ( ) for it."—Lacon.

"I have addressed this volume to those that think ( ), and some may accuse me of an ostentatious independence, in presuming ( ) to inscribe a book to so small a minority. But a volume addressed to those that think ( ) is in fact addressed to all the world; for altho the proportion of those who do ( ) think ( ) be extremely small, yet every individual flatters himself that he is one of the number."—Idem.

What is the difference whether a man thinks or not, if he produces no thoughts?

"He that thinks himself the happiest man, really is so; but he that thinks himself the wisest, is generally the greatest fool."—Idem.

"A man has many workmen employed; some to plough ( ) and sow ( ), others to chop ( ) and split ( ); some to mow ( ) and reap ( ); one to score ( ) and hew ( ); two to frame ( ) and raise ( ). In his factory he has persons to card ( ), spin ( ), reel ( ), spool ( ), warp ( ), and weave ( ), and a clerk to deliver ( ) and charge ( ), to receive ( ) and pay ( ). They eat ( ), and drink ( ), heartily, three times a day; and as they work ( ) hard, and feel ( ) tired at night, they lay ( ) down, sleep ( ) soundly, and dream ( ) pleasantly; they rise ( ) up early to go ( ) to work ( ) again. In the morning the children wash ( ) and dress ( ) and prepare ( ) to go ( ) to school, to learn ( ) to read ( ), write ( ), and cipher ( )." All neuter or intransitive verbs!!

"The celebrated horse, Corydon, will perform ( ) on Tuesday evening in the circus. He will leap ( ) over four bars, separately, in imitation of the english hunter. He will lie ( ) down, and rise ( ) up instantly at the word of command. He will move ( ) backwards and sideways, rear ( ) and stand ( ) on his hind feet; he will sit ( ) down, like a Turk, on a cushion. To conclude ( ), he will leap ( ), in a surprising manner, over two horses."—Cardell's Grammar.

The gymnastic is not a mountebank; he palms off no legerdemain upon the public. He will stretch a line across the room, several feet from the floor, over which he will leap ( ) with surprising dexterity. He will stand ( ) on his head, balance, ( ) on one foot, and swing ( ) from side to side of the room; lay ( ) crosswise, and sideways; spring ( ) upon his feet; bound ( ) upon the floor; dance ( ) and keel ( ) over with out touching his hands. He will sing ( ), play ( ), and mimic ( ); look ( ) like a king, and act ( ) like a fool. He will laugh ( ) and cry ( ), as if real; roar ( ) like a lion, and chirp ( ) like a bird. To conclude ( ): He will do all this to an audience of neuter grammarians, without either "action or passion," all the while having a "state of being," motionless, in the center of the room!!

What a lie! say you. A lie? I hope you do not accuse me of lying. If there is any thing false in this matter it all lies in the quotation, at the conclusion, from the standard grammar. If that is false, whose fault is it? Not mine, certainly. But what if I should lie ( ), intransitively? I should tell no falsehoods.

But enough of this. If there is any thing irrational or inconsistent, any thing false or ridiculous, in this view of the subject, it should be remembered that it has been long taught, not only in common schools, but in our academies and colleges, as serious, practical truth; as the only means of acquiring a correct knowledge of language, or fitting ourselves for usefulness or respectability in society. You smile at such trash, and well you may; but you must bear in mind that grammar is not the only thing in which we may turn round and laugh ( ) at past follies.

But I am disposed to consider this matter of more serious consequence than to deserve our laughter. When I see the rising generation spend months and years of the best and most important part of their lives, which should be devoted to the acquisition of that which is true and useful, studying the dark and false theory of language as usually taught, I am far from feeling any desire to laugh at the folly which imposes such a task upon them. I remember too distinctly the years that have just gone by. I have seen too many blighted hopes, too many wearisome hours, too many sad countenances, too many broken resolutions; to say nothing of corporeal chastisements; to think it a small matter that children are erroneously taught the rudiments of language, because sanctioned by age, or great names. A change, an important change, a radical change, in this department of education, is imperiously demanded, and teachers must obey the call, and effect the change. There is a spirit abroad in the land which will not bow tamely and without complaint, to the unwarranted dictation of arbitrary, false, and contradictory rules, merely from respect to age. It demands reason, consistency and plainness; and yields assent only where they are found. And teachers, if they will not lead in the reformation, must be satisfied to follow after; for a reformation is loudly called for, and will be had. None are satisfied with existing grammars, which, in principle, are nearly alike. The seventy-three attempts to improve and simplify Murray, have only acted intransitively, and accomplished very little, if any good, save the employment given to printers, paper makers, and booksellers.

But I will not enlarge. We have little occasion to wonder at the errors and mistakes of grammar makers, when our lexicographers tell us for sober truth, that to act, to be in action, not to rest, to be in motion, to move, is v. n. a verb neuter, signifying no action!! or v. i. verb intransitive, producing no effects; and that a "neuter verb expresses (active transitive verb) a state of being!! There are few minds capable of adopting such premises, and drawing therefrom conclusions which are rational or consistent. Truth is rarely elicted from error, beauty from deformity, or order from confusion. While, therefore, we allow the neuter systems to sink into forgetfulness, as they usually do as soon as we leave school and shut our books, let us throw the mantle of charity over those who have thoughtlessly (without thinking thoughts) and innocently lead us many months in dark and doleful wanderings, in paths of error and contradiction, mistaken for the road to knowledge and usefulness. But let us resolve to save ourselves and future generations from following the same unpleasant and unprofitable course, and endeavor to reflect the light which may shine upon our minds, to dispel the surrounding darkness, and secure the light and knowledge of truth to those who shall come after us.

Many philologists have undertaken to explain our language by the aid of foreign tongues. Because there are genitive cases, different kinds of verbs, six tenses, etc. in the Latin or Greek, the same distinctions should exist in our grammars. But this argument will not apply, admitting that other languages will not allow of the plan of exposition we have adopted, which we very seriously question, tho we have not time to go into that investigation. We believe that the principles we have adopted are capable of universal application; that what is action in England would be action in Greece, Rome, Turkey, and every where else; that "like causes will produce like effects" all the world over. It matters not by whom the action is seen, it is the same, and all who gather ideas therefrom will describe it as it appears to them, let them speak what language they may. But if they have no ideas to express, they need no language to speak. Monkeys, for aught I know to the contrary, can speak as well as we; but the reason they do not, is because they have nothing to say.

Let Maelzael's automaton chess-player be exhibited to a promiscuous multitude. They would all attempt a description of it, so far as they were able to gain a knowledge of its construction, each in his own language. Some might be unable to trace the cause, the moving power, thro all the curiously arranged means, to the agent who acted as prime mover to the whole affair. Others, less cautious in their conclusions, might think it a perpetual motion. Such would find a first cause short of the Creator, the great original of all things and actions; and thus violate the soundest principles of philosophy. Heaven has never left a vacuum where a new and self sustaining power may be set in operation independent of his ever-present supervision; and hence the long talked of perpetual motion is the vainest chimera which ever occupied the human brain. It may well appear as the opposite extreme of neuter verbs; for, while one would give no action to matter according to the physical laws which regulate the world, the other would make matter act of itself, independent of the Almighty. Be it ours to take a more rational and consistent stand; to view all things and beings as occupying a place duly prescribed by Infinite Wisdom, acting according to their several abilities, and subject to the regulation of the all-pervading laws which guide, preserve, and harmonize the whole.

If there is a subject which teaches us beyond controversy the existence of a Supreme Power, a Universal Father, an all-wise and ever-present God, it is found in the order and harmony of all things, produced by the regulation of Divine laws; and man's superiority to the rest of the world is most clearly proved, from the possession of a power to adapt language to the communication of ideas in free and social converse, or in the transmission of thought, drawn from an observation and knowledge of things as presented to his understanding.

There is no science so directly important to the growth of intellect and the future happiness of the child, as the knowledge of language. Without it, what is life? Wherein would man be elevated above the brute? And what is language without ideas? A sound without harmony—a shadow without a substance.

Let language be taught on the principles of true philosophy, as a science, instead of an arbitrary, mechanical business, a mere art, and you will no longer hear the complaint of a "dry, cold, uninteresting study." Its rules will be simple, plain, and easy; and at every step the child will increase in the knowledge of more than words, in an acquaintance with principles of natural and moral science. And if there is any thing that will carry the mind of the child above the low and grovelling things of earth, and fill the soul with reverence and devotion to the Holy Being who fills immensity with his presence, it is when, from observing the laws which govern matter, he passes to observe the powers and capabilities of the mind, and thence ascends to the Intellectual Source of light, life, and being, and contemplates the perennial and ecstatic joys which flow from the presence of Deity; soul mingling with soul, love absorbed in love, and God all in all.



LECTURE XI.

ON VERBS.

The verb to be.—Compounded of different radical words.—Am. —Defined.—The name of Deity.—Ei.—Is.—Are.—Were, was.—Be.—A dialogue.—Examples.—Passive Verbs examined.— Cannot be in the present tense.—The past participle is an adjective.

We have gone through the examination of neuter and intransitive verbs, with the exception of the verb to be, which we propose to notice in this place. Much more might be said on the subjects I have discussed, and many more examples given to illustrate the nature and operation of actions as expressed by verbs, and also in reference to the objects of action; but I trust the hints I have given will be satisfactory. I am confident, if you will allow your minds to think correct thoughts, and not suffer them to be misled by erroneous teaching, you will arrive at the same conclusion that I have, viz. that all verbs depend on a common principle for their explanation; that they are alike active, and necessarily take an object after them, either expressed or understood, in accordance with the immutable law of nature, which teaches that like causes will produce like effects.

* * * * *

The verb to be, as it is called, is conjugated by the aid of six different words, in its various modes and tenses; am, is, are, was, were, be. Am is unchanged, always in the indicative mood, present tense, agreeing with the first person singular. Is is also unchanged, in the same mood and tense, agreeing with the third person singular. Art, in the singular, is the same as are in the plural. Was and wast, are the same as were and wert in meaning, being derived from the same etymon. Be, being, and been, are changes of the same word. Be was formerly extensively used in the indicative present, but in that condition it is nearly obsolete. Were was also used in the singular as well as plural, especially when coming before the agent; as, "were I to go, I would do your business." But it is now more common to have was correctly used in that case. But, as one extreme often follows another, people have laid were quite too much aside, and often crowd was into its place in common conversation; as "we was (were) there yesterday." "There was (were) five or six men engaged in the business." This error appears to be gaining ground, and should be checked before it goes farther.

The combination of these different words was produced by habit, to avoid the monotony which the frequent recurrence of one word, so necessary in the expression of thought, would occasion: the same as the past tense of go is made by the substitution of another word radically different, went, the past tense of wend or wind. "O'er hills and dales they wend their way." "The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea." Go and wend convey to our minds nearly the same ideas. The latter is a little more poetical, because less used. But originally their signification was quite different. So with the parts of the verb to be. They were consolidated as a matter of convenience, and now appear in their respective positions to express the idea of being, life, or existence.

I have said this verb expresses the highest degree of action. I will now attempt to prove it. I should like to go into a labored and critical examination of the words, and trace their changes thro various languages, was it in accordance with the design of these lectures. But as it is not, I shall content myself with general observations.

I am.

This word is not defined in our dictionaries. It is only said to be "the first person of to be." We must look for its meaning some where else. It is a compound of two ancient words, ah, breath, to breathe, life, to live, light, to light; and ma, the hand, or to hand. It signifies to vivify, sustain, or support one's self in being or existence. In process of time, like other things in this mutable world, its form was changed, but the meaning retained. But as one person could not vivify or live another, inflate another's lungs, or breathe another's breath, it became restricted to the first person. It means, I breathe breath, vivify myself, live life, or exercise the power of being or living. It conveys this fact in every instance, for no person incapable of breathing can say I am. Let any person pronounce the word ah-ma, and they will at once perceive the appropriateness of the meaning here given. It is very similar to the letter h, and the pronoun, (originally noun,) he, or the "rough breathing" in the Greek language. Ma is compounded with many words which express action done by the hand; as, manufacture, manumit. It denoted any action or work done by the hand as the instrument; but, like other words, it gradually changed its import, so as to express any effective operation. Hence the union of the words was natural and easy, and ahma denoted breathing, to live or sustain life. H is a precarious letter in all languages that use it, as the pronunciation of it by many who speak the English language, will prove. It was long ago dropt, in this word, and after it the last a, so that we now have the plain word am.

It was formerly used as a noun in our language, and as such may be found in Exodus 3: 13, 14. "And Moses said unto God, Behold when I come unto the children of Israel and shall say unto them, The God of your fathers sent me unto you; and they shall say to me, What is his name? what shall I say unto them? And God said unto Moses, I am the I AM; and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you." Chap. 6: 3.—"I appeared unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, by the name of God Almighty; but by my name Jehovah (I AM) was I not known unto them." The word Jehovah is the same as am. It is the name of the self-existent, self-sustaining Being, who has not only power to uphold all things, but to perform the still more sublime action of upholding or sustaining himself. This is the highest possible degree of action. Let this fail, and all creation will be a wreck. He is the ever-living, uncontrolled, unfailing, unassisted, and never-changing God, the Creator, Preserver, Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and End of all things. He is the First Cause of all causes, the Agent, original moving Power, and guiding Wisdom, which set in motion the wheels of universal nature, and guides and governs them without "variableness or the shadow of turning."

"I AM the first, and I, the last, Thro endless years the same; I AM is my memorial still, And my eternal name." Watts' Hymn.

Ask the Jews the meaning of this neuter verb in their language. They hold it in the most profound and superstitious reverence. After the captivity of their nation they never dared pronounce the name except once a year when the high priest went into the Holy of Holies, and hence the true pronunciation of it was lost. Unto this day they dare not attempt to utter it. In all their writings it remains in characters untranslated. When their Messiah comes they expect he will restore the pronunciation, and by it they shall be able to accomplish all things.[15]

According to Plutarch the Greeks had the letters EI, thou art, engraven on the temple of Apollo at Delphi, which is the second person of Eimi, I am.[16]

This motto was doubtless borrowed from the Jews, to whom it was given as the name of the God of Jacob. The same name you may see engraven on monuments, on pictures of the bible, on masonic implements, and in various places, untranslated.

Who can suppose that this word "expresses no action," when the very person incapable of it can not utter it, and no one else can speak it for him? It denotes the highest conceivable action applied to Deity or to man, and it is questionable philosophy which dares contradict this fact. The action expressed by it, is not changed, because it does not terminate on a foreign object. It remains the same. It is self-action.

He is.

This word is constructed from an old verb signifying to stand forth, to appear, to show one's self, and may be traced, I think, to the latin eo, to go, and exist, to exeo, to go from; that is, our being or existence, came or stood forth from God. It is certainly a contraction from the old english to exist. Ist is the spelling still retained in the german and some other languages. It denotes self-action. One man does not exist another, but himself. He keeps himself in existence.

We are, thou are-est, arst, or art.

Be not surprised when I tell you this is the same word as air, for such is the fact. It signifies to inhale air, to air ourselves, or breathe air. "God breathed into man the breath of life, and man became a living soul." The new born infant inhales air, inflates its lungs with air, and begins to live. We all know how essential air is to the preservation of life. No animal can live an instant without it. Drop a squirrel into a receiver from which all air has been extracted, and it can not live. Even vegetables will die where there is no air. Light is also indispensable to life and health. Air is inhaled and exhaled, and from it life receives support. The fact being common, it is not so distinctly observed by the careless, as tho it was more rare. But did you never see the man dying of a consumption, when the pulmonary or breathing organs were nearly decayed? How he labors for breath! He asks to have the windows thrown open. At length he suffocates and dies. Most persons struggle hard for breath in the hour of dissolving nature. The heaving bosom, the hollow gasp for air, tells us that the lamp of life is soon to be extinguished, that the hour of their departure has come.

When a person faints, we carry them into the air, or blow air upon them, that nature may be restored to its regular course. In certain cases physicians find it necessary to force air into the lungs of infants; they can after that air, themselves, imbibe or drink in air, or inspirit themselves with air. But I need not enlarge. Whoever has been deprived of air and labored hard for breath in a stifled or unwholesome air, can appreciate what we mean.

We were; he was.

I have said before that these words are the same, and are used in certain cases irrespective of number. I have good authority for this opinion, altho some etymologists give them different derivations.

Were, wert; worth, werth; word and werde, are derived from the same etymon and retain a similarity of meaning. They signify spirit, life, energy. "In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God." "By the word of his grace."

"They were," they inspirited themselves, possessed the life, vitality, or spirit, the Creator gave them, and having that spirit, life, or energy, under proper regulation, in due degree, they were worthy of the esteem, regard, sympathy, and good word of others.

To be.

This is considered the root of all the words we have considered, and to it all others are referred for a definition. Dictionaries give no definition to am, is, are, was, and were, all of them as truly principal verbs as be, and possessed of as distinct a meaning. It can hardly be possible that they should form so important a part of our language, and yet be incapable of definition. But such is the fact, the most significant words in our language, and those most frequently used, are undefined in the books.

Mr. Webster says to be signifies, "to exist, to have a real state or existence," and so say Walker and Johnson. Now if it is possible to "have a state of being without action or passion," then may this word express neutrality. But the very definition requires activity, and an object expressed. It denotes the act of being, or living; to exercise the powers of life, to maintain a position or rank in the scale of existent things.

The name of the action is being, and applies to the Almighty BEING who exists unchanged as the source of all inferior beings and things, whose name is Jehovah, I AM, the Being of beings, the Fountain of light, life, and wisdom.

Be is used in the imperative and infinitive moods correctly, by every body who employs language. "Be here in ten minutes." "Be it far from thee." "I will be in Boston before noon." If there is any action in going from Providence to Boston at rail-road speed, in two hours, or before noon, it is all expressed by the verb be, which we are told expresses no action.

The teacher says to his scholars when out at play, "I want you to be in your seats in five minutes." What would they understand him to mean? that they should stand still? or that they should change their state of being from play in the yard, to a state of being in their seats? There is no word to denote such change, except the word to be. Be off, be gone, be here, be there, are commands frequently given and correctly understood.

The master says to a bright little lad, who has well learned his grammar, "Be here in a minute."

"Yes, sir, I will be there;" but he does not move.

"Be here immediately."

"Yes, yes, I will be there."

"Don't you understand me? I say, be here instantly."

"Oh, yes, I understand you and will obey."

The good man is enraged. "You scoundrel," says he, "do you mean to disobey my orders and insult me?"

"Insult you and disobey you; I have done neither," replies the honest boy.

"Yes you have, and I will chastise you severely for it."

"No, master, I have not; I declare, I have not. I have obeyed you as well as I know how, to the very letter and spirit of your command."

"Didn't I tell you to be here in a minute, and have not you remained where you were? and didn't you say you would be here?"

"Yes, sir; and did not I do just what you told me to?"

"Why, no, you blockhead; I told you to be here."

"Well, I told you I would be there."

"You was not here."

"Nor did you expect I would be, if you have taught me to speak, write, and understand correctly."

"What do you mean, you saucy boy?"

"I mean to mind my master, and do what he tells me to."

"Why didn't you do so then?"

"I did."

"You didn't."

"I did."

"You lie, you insult me, you contradict me, you saucy fellow. You are not fit to be in school. I will punish you severely." And in a passion he starts for his ferrule, takes the boys hand, and bruises him badly; the honest little fellow all the while pleading innocence of any intended wrong.

In a short time they commence parsing this sentence: "It is necessary to be very particular in ascertaining the meaning of words before we use them." The master puts to be to the same boy. He says it is an active verb, infinitive mood.

"How is that? an active verb?"

"Yes, sir."

"No, it is not. It is a neuter verb."

"Begging your pardon, master, it is not. It is active."

"Have I got to punish you again so soon, you impudent fellow. You are not fit to be in school. I will inform your parents of your conduct."

"What have I done that is wrong?"

"You say to be is an active verb, when I tell you, and the grammar and dictionary tell you, it is neuter!"

"What is a neuter verb, master?"

"It expresses 'neither action nor passion, but being or a state of being.' Have you forgotten it?"

"No, sir, I thought that was the case."

"What did you ask me for then?"

"Because I supposed you had found another meaning for it."

"To what do you allude, you troublesome fellow, you? I'll not bear your insults much longer."

"For what did you punish me so severely just now?"

"For disobeying my orders."

"What did you order me to do?"

"To be here in a minute."

"Well, did not I do what you told me?"

"No; you kept your seat, and did not come near me."

"Well, I thought and did just what you now tell me; that to be is a neuter verb, expressing no action, but being. I had a state of being, and promised to keep it, and did keep it, and you punished me for doing the very thing you told me to do!!"

The master looked down, shut up his book, and began to say that grammar is a "dry, cold, and useless" study, hardly worth the trouble of learning it.

* * * * *

"I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty."—Rev. 1: 8.

If there is any action in maintaining eternal existence, by which all things were created and are upheld, it is expressed in the verbs am, is, and was.

God said, "Let there be light, and there was light;" or more properly rendered, "Light be, and light was."

Was there no action in setting the sun, moon and stars in the firmament, and in causing them to send forth the rays of light to dispel the surrounding darkness? If there was, be and was denote that action.

"You are commanded to be and appear before the court of common pleas," etc. A heavy penalty is imposed upon those who fail to comply with this citation—for neglecting to do what is expressed by the neuter verb to be.

Such cases might be multiplied without number, where this verb is correctly used by all who employ language, and correctly understood by all who are capable of knowing the meaning of words. But I think you must all be convinced of the truth of our proposition, that all verbs express action, either real or relative; and in all cases have an object, expressed or necessarily implied, which stands as the effect, and an agent, as the cause of action: and hence that language, as a means for the communication of thought, does not deviate from the soundest principles of philosophy, but in all cases, rightly explained, serves to illustrate them, in the plainest manner.

* * * * *

A few remarks on the "Passive Verb," and I will conclude this part of our subject, which has already occupied much more of our attention than I expected at the outset.

"A verb passive expresses a passion or a suffering, or the receiving of an action; and necessarily implies an object acted upon, and an agent by which it is acted upon; as, to be loved; Penelope is loved by me."

In the explanation of this verb, grammarians further tell us that a passive verb is formed by adding the verb to be, which is thus made auxiliary, to a past participle; as, Portia was loved. Pompey was conquered.

It is singular how forgetful our great men sometimes are about observing their own rules. Take an instance in Mr. Walker's octavo dictionary. Look for the word simeter, a small sword. You will find it spelled scimitar. Then turn over, and you will find it simitar, with the same definition, and the remark, "more properly cimetar." Then turn back, and find the correct word as he spells it, and there you will find it cimeter.

Unsettled as to the true spelling, go to our own honored Webster. Look for "scimiter." He says, see cimitar. Then look for "cimitar;" see cimeter. Then hunt up the true word, be it ar or er, and you will find it still another way, cimiter. Here the scholar has seven different ways to spell this word, and neither of his authorities have followed their own examples. I cite this as one of a thousand instances, where our savans have laid down rules for others, and disregarded them themselves.

Portia is loved and happy. She is respectable, virtuous, talented, and respected by all who know her. She is seated by the door. Does the door seat her? What agent, then, causes her passion or suffering?

The book is printed. Will you parse is printed? It is a passive verb, indicative mood, present tense. Who is printing it? causing it, in the present tense, to suffer or receive the action? The act of printing was performed a hundred years ago. How can it be present time?

Penelope is loved by me. The blow is received by me. It is given by me. Penelope is seated by me. The earthquake is felt by her. The evils are suffered by her. The thunder is heard by her. Does this mean that she is the agent, and the earthquake, evils, and thunder, are the objects which receive the effects which she produces? That would be singular philosophy, indeed. But to feel, to suffer, and to hear, are active, and are constructed into passive verbs. Why is it not as correct to say she is suffering by another's wrongs, is raging by the operation of passion, or is travelling by rail-road, are passive verbs? The fact is, our language can not be explained by set rules or forms of speech. We must regard the sense. The past participle, as it is called, becomes an adjective by use, and describes her as some way affected by a previous action. She is learned, handsome, modest, and, of course, beloved by all who know her.

To say "she is placed by the water's edge," is a passive verb, and that the water's edge, as the agent, causes her "passion, suffering, or receiving of the action," is false and ridiculous, for she placed herself there.

"We are seated on our seats by the stove." What power is now operating on us to make us suffer or receive the action of being seated on our seats? Does the stove perform this action? This is a passive verb, present tense, which requires an "object acted upon, and an agent by which it is acted upon." But we came in and seated ourselves here an hour ago.

The man is acquitted. He stands acquitted before the public. He is learned, wise, and happy, very much improved within a few years. He is always active, studious, and engaged in his own affairs. He is renowned, and valorous. She is respected. She lives respected.

If there is such a thing as a passive verb, it can never be used in the present tense, for the action expressed by the principal verb which is produced by the agent operating upon the object, is always past tense, and the auxiliary, or helping verb to be, is always present. Let this verb be analyzed, and the true meaning of each word understood, little difficulty will be found in giving it an explanation.

I will not spend more time in exposing the futility of this attempted distinction. It depends solely on a verbal form, but can never be explained so as to be understood by any scholar. Most grammarians have seen the fallacy of attempting to give the meaning of this verb. They can show its form, but are frequently compelled, as in the cases above, to sort out the "passed participles" from a host of adjectives, and it will be found exceeding troublesome to make scholars perceive any difference in the use of the words, or in the construction of a sentence. But it may be they have never thought that duty belonged to them; that they have nothing to do but to show them what the book says. Suppose they should teach arithmetic on the same principles, and learn the scholars to set down 144 as the product of 12 times 12. Let them look at the form of the figures, observe just how they appear, and make some more like them, and thus go thro the book. What would the child know of arithmetic? Just as much as they do of grammar, and no more. They would understand nothing of the science of numbers, of proportion, or addition. They would exercise the power of imitation, and make one figure look like another. Beyond that, all would be a terra incognita, a land unknown. So in the science of language; children may learn that the verb to be, joined with the past participle of an active verb, makes a passive verb; but what that passive verb is when made, or how to apply it, especially in the present tense, they have no means of knowing. Their knowledge is all taken on trust, and when thrown upon their own resources, they have none on which to rely.



LECTURE XII.

ON VERBS.

Mood.—Indicative.—Imperative.—Infinitive.—Former distinctions. —Subjunctive mood.—Time.—Past.—Present.—Future.—The future explained.—How formed.—Mr. Murray's distinction of time.— Imperfect.—Pluperfect.—Second future.—How many tenses.— Auxiliary Verbs.—Will.—Shall.—May.—Must.—Can.—Do.—Have.

We are now come to consider the different relations of action in reference to manner and time. We shall endeavor to be as brief as possible upon this subject, keeping in view meanwhile that candor and perspicuity which are indispensable in all our attempts to explain new views.

Mood signifies manner. Applied to verbs it explains how, in what manner, by what means, under what circumstances, actions are performed.

There are three moods, the indicative or declarative, the imperative or commanding, and the infinitive or unlimited.

The indicative mood declares an action to be done or doing, not done, or not doing. It is always in the past or present tense; as, David killed Goliath; scholars learn knowledge; I spoke not a word; they sing not.

The imperative mood denotes a command given from the first person to the second, to do or not do an action. It expresses the wish or desire of the first person to have a certain action performed which depends on the agency of the second. The command is present, but the action signified by the word is future to the giving of the command. The second person cannot comply with the will of the first till such will is made known; as, bring me a book; go to the door.

The infinitive mood has no direct personal agent, but is produced as a necessary consequence, growing out of a certain condition of things. It is always future to such condition; that is, some prior arrangement must be had before such consequences will follow. It is always future; as, they are collecting a force to besiege the city. We study grammar to acquire a knowledge of language. Windows are made to admit light. The act of besieging the city depends on the previous circumstance, the collection of a force to do it. Were there no windows, the light would not be admitted to the room.

These distinctions in regard to action must be obvious to every hearer. You all are aware of the fact that action necessarily implies an actor, as every effect must have an efficient cause; and such action clearly or distinctly indicated, must have such an agent to produce it. 2d. You are acquainted with the fact that one person can express his will to the second, directing him to do or avoid some thing. 3d. From an established condition of things, it is easy to deduce a consequence which will follow, in the nature of things, as an unavoidable result of such a combination of power, cause, and means.

With these principles you are all familiar, whether you have studied grammar or not. They are clearly marked, abundantly simple, and must be obvious to all. They form the only necessary, because the only real, distinction, in the formation and use of the verb to express action. Any minor distinctions are only calculated to perplex and embarrass the learner.

But some grammarians have passed these natural barriers, and built to themselves schemes to accord with their own vain fancies. The remarks of Mr. Murray upon this point are very appropos. He says:

"Some writers have given our moods a much greater extent than we have assigned to them. They assert that the english language may be said, without any great impropriety, to have as many moods as it has auxiliary verbs; and they allege, in support of their opinion, that the compound expression which they help to form, point out those various dispositions and actions, which, in other languages, are expressed by moods. This would be to multiply the moods without advantage. It is, however, certain, that the conjugation or variation of verbs, in the english language, is effected, almost entirely, by the means of auxiliaries. We must, therefore, accommodate ourselves to this circumstance; and do that by their assistance, which has been done in the learned languages (a few instances to the contrary excepted) in another manner, namely, by varying the form of the verb itself. At the same time, it is necessary to set proper bounds to this business, so as not to occasion obscurity and perplexity, when we mean to be simple and perspicuous. Instead, therefore, of making a separate mood for every auxiliary verb, and introducing moods interrogative, optative, promissive, hortative, precative, &c., we have exhibited such only as are obviously distinct; and which, whilst they are calculated to unfold and display the subject intelligibly to the learner, seem to be sufficient, and not more than sufficient, to answer all the purposes for which moods were introduced.

"From grammarians who form their ideas, and make their decisions, respecting this part of english grammar, on the principles and constructions of languages which, in these points, do not suit the peculiar nature of our own, but differ considerably from it, we may naturally expect grammatical schemes that are not very perspicuous nor perfectly consistent, and which will tend more to perplex than to inform the learner."

Had he followed this rule, he would have saved weeks and months to every student in grammar in the community. But his remarks were aimed at Mr. Harris, who was by far the most popular writer on language in England at that time. He has adopted the very rules of Mr. Murray, and carried them out. By a careful observance of the different forms and changes of the verb and its auxiliaries, he makes out quite evidently to his own mind, fourteen moods, which I forbear to name.

Most grammarians contend for five moods, two of which, the potential or powerful, and the subjunctive, are predicated on the same principles as Mr. Harris' optative, interrogative, etc., which they condemn. It is impossible to explain the character of these moods so as to be understood. If, it is said, is the sign of the subjunctive, and may and can of the potential; and yet they are often found together; as, "I will go if I can." No scholar can determine in what mood to put this last verb. It of right belongs to both the potential and subjunctive. If I may be allowed to speak my mind, I should say that such distinctions were false.

I will not go into an exposure of these useless and false distinctions, which are adopted to help carry out erroneous principles. The only pretence for a subjunctive mood is founded on the fact that be and were were formerly used in a character different from what they are at present. Be was used in the indicative mood, present tense, when doubt or supposition was implied; as, If I be there; if they be wise. Be I a man, and receive such treatment? Were was also used instead of was in the past tense; as, "Were I an American I would fight for liberty. If I were to admit the fact." In this character these words are rapidly becoming obsolete. We now say, "If I am there; am I a man, and receive such abuses? was I an American; if I was to admit," etc.

All the round about, perplexing, and tedious affair of conjugating verbs thro the different modes and tenses will appear in its true character, when we come to give you a few brief examples, according to truth and plain sense. But before doing that it will be necessary to make some remarks on time.

Tense means time. We distinguish time according to certain events which are generally observed. In the use of the verb we express action in reference to periods of time when it is performed.

There are three tenses, or divisions of time; past, present, and future.

Past tense applies to actions which are accomplished; as, I wrote a book; he recited his lesson.

Present tense denotes actions commenced, but not finished, and now in operation; as, he reads his book; we sit on our seats and hear the lecture.

Future tense refers to actions, which are to take place hereafter; as, I am to go from the Institute; we desire to learn grammar correctly.

Every body can mark three plain distinctions of time, past, present, and future. With the past we have been acquainted. It has ceased to be. Its works are ended. The present is a mere line—, nothing as it were—which is constantly passing unchecked from the past to the future. It is a mere division of the past and future. The Hebrew, which is strictly a philosophic language, admits no present; only a past and future. We speak of the present as denoting an action begun and not finished. In the summer, we say the trees grow, and bear fruit. But when the fruit is fallen, and the leaves seared by the frost, we change the expression, and say, it grew and bore fruit.

Of the future we can know nothing definitely. Heaven has hung before all human eyes an impenetrable veil which obscures all future events. No man without prophetic vision bestowed by Him who "sees the end from the beginning," can know what is to be, and no expression can be made, no words employed which will positively declare a future action. We may see a present condition of things, and from it argue what is to be, or take place hereafter; but all that knowledge is drawn from the past and deduced from a review of the present relation and tendencies of things.

I hold the paper near the fire and you say it will burn, and you say truly, for it has a will, or what is the same, an inherent tendency to burn. It is made of combustible matter, like paper which we have seen burn, and hence we argue this has the same tendency to be consumed. But how does your mind arrive at that fact? If you had never seen a substance like it burn, why should you conclude this will? Does the child know it will burn? No; for it has not yet learned the quality of the paper. It is not till the child has been burned that it dreads the fire. Suppose I take some asbestus, of the kind called amianthus, which is a mineral, and is formed of slender flexible fibres like flax; and in eastern countries, especially in Savoy and Corsica, is manufactured into cloth, paper, and lamp wicks. It was used in making winding sheets for the dead, in which the bodies were burned, and the ashes, retained in the incombustible sheet, were gathered into an urn, and revered as the manes of the dead. Suppose I take some of this incombustible paper or cloth, and present to you. You say it will burn. Why do you say thus? Because you have seen other materials which appear like this, consume to ashes. Let us put it into the fire. It will not burn. It has no tendency to burn; no quality which will consume. But this is a new idea to you and hence your mistake. You did not know it would burn, nor could you indicate such a fact. You only told your opinion derived from the present appearance of things, and hence you made an assertion in the indicative mood, present tense, and added to it an infinitive mood, in order to deduce the consequence of this future action—it wills, or has a tendency to burn. But you were mistaken, because ignorant of the nature of things. This amianthus looks like flax, and to a person unacquainted with it, appears to be as truly combustible; but the mineralogist, and all who know its properties, know very well that it will not—wills nothing, has no inclination, or tendency, to burn.

Take another example. Here is a steel needle. I hold it before you. You say, "if I let go of it, it will fall," and you say correctly, for it has such a tendency. But suppose a magnet, as great as that which is said to have drawn the iron coffin of Mohammed to the roof of the temple at Mecca, should be placed in the room above us. The needle, instead of falling to the floor, would be drawn in the nearest direction to that magnet. The will or tendency of the needle, as generally understood, would be overcome, the natural law of gravitation would lose its influence, by the counteracting power of the loadstone.

I say, "I will go home in an hour." But does that expression indicate the act of going? It is placed in the indicative mood in our grammars; and go is the principal, and will the auxiliary verb. May be I shall fall and die before I reach my home. But the expression is correct; will is present, go future. I will, I now resolve, am now inclined to go home.

You see the correctness of our position, that we can not positively assert a future active in the indicative mood. Try and form to yourselves a phrase by which it can be done. Should you succeed, you would violate a law of nature. You would penetrate the dark curtain of the future, and claim to yourself what you do not possess, a power to declare future actions. Prophets, by the help of the Almighty, had this power conferred upon them. But in the revelation of the sublime truths they were instructed to make known, they were compelled to adopt human language, and make it agree with our manner of speech.

The only method by which we express a future event, is to make an assertion in the indicative mood, present tense, and to that append the natural consequence in the infinitive or unlimited; as, I am to go to Boston. He is preparing to visit New-York. The infinitive mood is always future to the circumstance on which it depends.

Mr. Murray says, that "tense, being the distinction of time, might seem to admit of only the present, past, and future; but to mark it more accurately, it is made to consist of six variations, viz.: the present, imperfect, perfect, pluperfect, first and second future tenses." This more accurate mark, only serves to expose the author's folly, and distract the learner's mind. Before, all was plain. The past, present, and future are distinct, natural divisions, easily understood by all. But what idea can a person form of an imperfect tense in action. If there was ever such an action in the world, it was when grammarians made their grammars, which is, if I mistake not, according to their own authority, in the im-perfect tense! I wrote a letter. He read his piece well. The scholar learned and recited his lesson perfectly; and yet learned, tho made perfect by the qualification of an adverb, is an imperfect action!

But this explains the whole mystery in the business of grammar. We can here discover the cause of all the troubles and difficulties we have encountered in the whole affair. When authors made their books, they did it imperfectly; when teachers taught them, it was imperfectly; and when scholars learned them, it was imperfectly!! So at last, we have found the origin of this whole difficulty, in the grammars themselves; it was all imperfectly done.

But here, again, mirabile dictu! wonderful to tell, we are presented with a plu-perfect tense; that is,—plus means more,—a more than perfect tense! What must that be? If a thing is perfect, we can not easily conceive any thing beyond. That is a ne plus ultra to all advancement—there can be no more beyond. If any change is introduced, it must be by falling from perfect back to imperfect.

I have said, "many of the distinctions in the grammar books have proved mischievous; that they are as false as frivolous;" and this is said perfectly, in the perfect tense. If I should say, "they had been of some benefit," that would be more than perfect—plu-perfect. But when I say, "they exhibited great depth of research, and conveyed some light on the subject of which they treated," it would all be im-perfect.

Next, we are presented with a second future tense, which attempts a division of time unbounded and unknown. In the greek, they have what is called a "paulo post future," which in plain english, means a "little after the future;" that is, I suppose, when futurity has come to an end, this tense will commence! At that time we may expect to meet a "praeter plus quam perfectum"—a more than perfect tense! But till that period shall arrive, we see little need of making such false and unphilosophic distinctions.

A teacher once told me that he explained the distinctions of time to his scholars from the clock dial which stood in the school room. Suppose twelve o'clock represents the present tense; nine would signify the perfect; any thing between nine and twelve would be imperfect; any thing beyond, pluperfect. On the other hand, any act, forward of twelve, would be future; and at three the second future would commence. I remarked that I thought this a wonderful improvement, especially to those who were able to have clocks by which to teach grammar, but that I could not discover why he did not have three future, as well as three past tenses. Why, he said, there were no such tenses marked in the books, and hence there was no occasion to explain them. I asked him why he did not have a tense for every hour, and so he could distinguish with Mr. Webster, twelve tenses, without any trouble whatever; and, by going three times round the dial, he could easily prove the correctness of Dr. Beattie's division; for he says, in his grammar, there are thirty-six tenses, and thinks there can not be less without "introducing confusion in the grammatical art." But he thought such a course would serve rather to perplex than enlighten; and so thought I. But he was the teacher of a popular school in the city of ——, and had published a duodecimo grammar of over 300 pages, entitled "Murray's Grammar, improved, by ——." I will not give his name; it would be libellous!

Mr. Murray thinks because certain things which he asserts, but does not prove, are found in greek and latin, "we may doubtless apply them to the english verb; and extend the principle as far as convenience, and the idiom of our language require." He found it to his "convenience" to note six principal, and as many indefinite tenses. Mr. Webster does the same. Dr. Beattie found it "convenient" to have thirty-six. In the greek they have nine. Mr. Bauzee distinguishes in the french twenty tenses; and the royal academy of Spain present a very learned and elaborate treatise on seven future tenses in that language. The clock dial of my friend would be found quite "convenient" in aiding the "convenience" of such distinctions.

The fact is, there are only three real divisions of time in any language, because there are only three in nature, and the ideas of all nations must agree in this respect. In framing language it was found impossible to mark any other distinctions, without introducing other words than those which express simple action. These words became compounded in process of time, till they are now used as changes of the same verb. I would here enter into an examination of the formation of the tenses of greek, latin, french, spanish, and german verbs, did I conceive it necessary, and show you how, by compounding two words, they form the various tenses found in the grammars. But it will be more edifying to you to confine my remarks to our own language. Here it will be found impossible to distinguish more than three tenses, or find the verb in any different form, except by the aid of other words, wholly foreign from those that express the action under consideration.

It is by the aid of auxiliary verbs that the perfect, pluperfect, or future tenses are formed. But when it is shown you that these are principal verbs, and like many other words, are used before the infinitive mood without the word to prefixed to them, you will perceive the consistency of the plan we propose. That such is the fact we have abundant evidence to show, and with your consent we will introduce it in this place. I repeat, all the words long considered auxiliaries, are principal verbs, declarative of positive action, and as such are in extensive use in our language. We can hardly agree that the words will, shall, may, must, can, could, would, should, etc. have no meaning, as our grammars and dictionaries would teach us; for you may look in vain for a definition of them, as principal verbs, with a few exceptions.

The reason these words are not found in the same relation to other words, with a to after them, is because they are so often used that we are accustomed to drop that word. The same may be said of all small words in frequent use; as, bid, do, dare, feel, hear, have, let, make, see, and sometimes needs, tell, and a few others. Bid him go. I dare say so. I feel it move. We hear him sing. Let us go. Make him do it. He must go thro Samaria. Tell him do it immediately.

It is a singular fact, but in keeping with neuter verb systems, that all the neuter verbs as well as the active, take these auxiliary or helping verbs, which, according to their showing help them do nothing—"express neither action or passion." A wonderful help indeed!

* * * * *

Will. This verb signifies to wish, to resolve, to exercise volition, in reference to a certain thing or action. "I will go." I now resolve to perform the act of going. When applied to inanimate things incapable of volition, it signifies what is analogous to it, inherent tendency; as, paper will burn; iron will sink; water will run. All these things have an inherent or active tendency to change. Water is composed of minute particles of a round form, piled together. While on a level they do not move; but let a descent be made, and these particles, under the influence of gravitation, will change position, and roll one over another with a rapidity equalled to the condition in which they are placed. The same may be observed in a quantity of shot opened at one side which will run thro the aperture; but the particles being larger, they will not find a level like water. Grain, sand, and any thing composed of small particles, will exhibit the same tendency. Iron, lead, or any mineral, in a state of igneous solution, will run, has the same inclination to run as water, or any other liquid. In oil, tallow, and lard, when expanded by heat, the same tendency is observed; but severely chilled with the cold, it congeals, and will not, has no such tendency, to run.

You have doubtless observed a cask filled with water and nearly tight, (if it is possible, make it quite so,) and when an aperture is made in the side, it will run but a trifle before it will stop. Open a vent upon the top of the cask and it will run freely. This will or tendency was counteracted by other means which I will not stop here to explain.

This is a most important word in science, physical and moral, and may be traced thro various languages where it exerts the same influence in the expression of thought.

"To avoid multiplying of words, I would crave leave here, under the word action, to comprehend the forbearance too of any action proposed; sitting still, or holding one's peace, when walking or speaking are proposed, tho mere forbearances, requiring as much the determination of the will, and being as often weighty in their consequences as the contrary actions, may, on that consideration, well enough pass for actions too. For he that shall turn his thoughts inwards upon what passes in his mind when he wills, shall see that the will or power of volition is conversant about nothing."—Locke's Essay, b. II. c. 21. Sec. 30.

It is correctly applied by writers to matter as well as mind, as may be seen by consulting their works.

"Meanwhile as nature wills, night bids us rest." Milton.

The lupulis, or common hop, feels for some elevated object which will assist it in its high aspirations, and will climb it by winding from left to right, and will not be obliged to go in an opposite direction; while the phaseolus, or kidney bean, takes the opposite direction. Neither will be compelled to change its course. They will have their own way, and grow as they please, or they will die in the contest for liberty.

Arsenic has a tendency in itself, a latent power, which only requires an opportunity suited to its objects, when it will act in the most efficacious manner. It will destroy the life of the Emperor, who has voluntarily slain his thousand and tens of thousands. This secret power does not reside in the flour of wheat, for that will not, has no tendency, to produce such disastrous consequences.

This word is applied in a similar manner to individuals and nations. The man will fall, not of intention, but of accident. He will kill himself. The man will drown, and the boat will swim. The water will hold up the boat, but it will allow the man to sink. The Russians will conquer the Turks. If conquest depended solely on the will, the Turks would as soon conquer as the Russians. But I have not time to pursue this topic farther. You can follow out these hints at your leisure.

Shall signifies to be bound, obligated, or required, from external necessity. Its etymology may be traced back thro various languages. It is derived direct from the saxon scaelan or scylan, and is found as a principal verb in that language, as well as in ours. In the church homily they say, "To Him alone we schall us to devote ourselves;" we bind or obligate ourselves. Chaucer, an early english poet, says.

"The faith we shall to God."

Great difficulty has been found in distinguishing between shall and will, and frequent essays have been written, to give arbitrary rules for their use. If the words were well understood, there could be no difficulty in employing them correctly. Will signifies inherent tendency, aptitude, or disposition, and volition in beings capable of using it. Shall implies external necessity, or foreign obligation. The parent says, "You will suffer misery if you do evil," for it is in accordance with the nature of things for evil to produce misery. "You shall regard my wishes," for you are under obligation, from the relation in which you stand to me, to do so. Let these words be clearly explained, and there will be no difficulty in using them correctly.

May, past tense might. This verb expresses power, strength, or ability to perform an action. It is a mistake that it means permission or liberty only. It implies more than that, the delegation of a power to perform the contemplated action. Suppose the scholar should faint, would the teacher say to him you may go into the open air? He has no power, might, or strength, communicated by such liberty, and must receive the might or strength of others to carry him out. But to the scholar in health he says you may go out, thereby giving to him a power and liberty sufficient to perform the action. This is done on the same principle that one man gives another a "power of attorney" to transact his business; and that power constitutes his liberty of action.

Must signifies to be confined, limited, bound, or restrained. I must, or am bound, to obey; certain obligations require me to obey. The adjective of this word is in common use. The air in the cask is musty. It has long been bound or confined there, and prevented from partaking of the purifying qualities of the atmosphere, and hence has become musty.

Can. This word is found as a principal verb and as a noun in our language, especially in the Scotch dialect. "I ken nae where he'd gone." Beyond the ken of mortals. Far from all human ken. It signifies to know, to perceive, to understand. I knew not where he had gone. Beyond the knowledge of mortals. Far from all human reach. To con or cun is a different spelling of the same word. Cunning is that quick perception of things, which enables a person to use his knowledge adroitly. The child can read; knows how to read. It can walk. Here it seems to imply power; but power, in this case, as in most others, is gained only by knowledge, for knowledge is power. Many children have strength sufficient to walk, long before they do. The reason why they can not walk, is, they do not know how; they have not learned to balance themselves in an erect position, so as to move forward without falling.

A vast proportion of human ability is derived from knowledge. There is not a being in creation so entirely incapable of self-support, as the new-born infant; and yet, by the help of knowledge, he becomes the lord of this lower world. Bonaparte was once as helpless as any other child, and yet by dint of can, ken, cunning, or knowledge, he made all Europe tremble. But his knowledge was limited. He became blind to danger, bewildered by success, and he could no longer follow the prudent course of wisdom, but fell a sacrifice to his own unbridled ambition, and blinded folly. An enlightened people can govern themselves; but power of government is gained by a knowledge of the principles of equality, and mutual help and dependency; and whenever the people become ignorant of that fact, they will fall, the degraded victims of their own folly, and the wily influence of some more knowing aspirant for power.

This is a most important topic; but I dare not pursue it farther, lest I weary your patience. A few examples must suffice.

"Jason, she cried, for aught I see or can, This deed," &c. Chaucer.

A famous man, Of every witte somewhat he can, Out take that him lacketh rule, His own estate to guide and rule. Gower.

Do has been called a helping verb; but it needs little observation to discover that it is no more so than a hundred other words. "Do thy diligence to come before winter." "Do the work of an evangelist."—Paul to Timothy. I do all in my power to expose the error and wickedness of false teaching. Do afford relief. Do something to afford relief.

Have has also been reckoned as an auxiliary by the "helping verb grammars," which has no other duty to perform than help conjugate other verbs thro some of their moods and tenses. It is a word in very common use, and of course must possess a very important character, which should be carefully examined and distinctly known by all who desire a knowledge of the construction of our language.

The principal difficulty in the explanation of this word, is the peculiar meaning which some have attached to it. It has been defined to denote possession merely. But when we say, a man has much property destroyed by fire, we do not mean that he gains or possesses much property by the fire; nor can we make has auxiliary to destroyed, for in that case it would stand thus: a man has destroyed much property by fire, which would be false, for the destruction was produced by an incendiary, or some other means wholly unknown to him.

You at once perceive that to possess is not the only meaning which attaches to have. It assumes a more important rank. It can be traced, with little change in form, back thro many generations. It is the same word as heave, originally, and retains nearly the same meaning. Saxon habban, Gothic haban, German haben, Latin habeo, French avoir, are all the same word, varied in spelling more than in sound; for b in many languages is sounded very much like v, or bv. It may mean to hold, possess, retain, sway, control, dispose of, either as a direct or relative action; for a man sustains relations to his actors, duties, family, friends, enemies, and all the world, as well as to his possessions. He has a hard task to perform. He has much pain to suffer. He has suffered much unhappiness.

I have written a letter. I have a written letter. I have a letter written. These expressions differ very little in meaning, but the verb have is the same in each case. By the first expression, I signify that I have caused the letter to be written; by the second that I have a letter on which such action has been performed; and by the third, that such written letter stands in such relation to myself.

I have written a letter and sent it away. Written is the past participle from write; as an adjective it describes the letter in the condition I placed it; so that it will be defined, wherever it is found, as my letter; that is, some way related to me.

We can here account for the old perfect tense, which is said, "not only to refer to what is past, but also to convey an allusion to the present time." The verb is in the present tense, the participle is in the past, and hence the reason of this allusion. I have no space allowed me to go into a full investigation of this word, in its application to the expression of ideas. But it is necessary to have it well understood, as it has an important service entrusted to it; and I hope you will have clear views presented to your minds, strong enough to have former errors eradicated therefrom.

If you have leisure granted, and patience and disposition equal-ed to the task, you have my consent to go back and read this sentence over again. You will find it has in it embodied much important information in relation to the use of have and the perfect tense.



LECTURE XIII.

ON VERBS.

Person and number in the agent, not in the action.—Similarity of agents, actions, and objects.—Verbs made from nouns.—Irregular verbs.—Some examples.—Regular Verbs.—Ed.—Ing.—Conjugation of verbs.—To love.—To have.—To be.—The indicative mood varied.—A whole sentence may be agent or object.—Imperative mood.—Infinitive mood.—Is always future.

I have said before that action can never be known separate from the actor; that the verb applies to the agent in an acting condition, as that term has been defined and should be understood. Hence Person and Number can never attach to the verb, but to the agent with which, of course, the action must, in every respect, agree; as, "I write." In this case the action corresponds with myself. But to say that write is in the "first person, singular number," would be wrong, for no such number or person belongs to the verb, but is confined to myself as the agent of the action.

The form of the verb is changed when it agrees with the second or third person singular; more on account of habit, I apprehend, than from any reason, or propriety as to a change of meaning in the word. We say, when using the regular second person singular, "thou writest," a form rarely observed except in addresses to Deity, or on solemn occasions. In the third person, an s is added to the regular form; as, "he writes." The old form, which was in general use at the time the common version of the Bible was published, was still different, ending in eth; as, he thinketh, he writeth. This style, altho considerably used in the last century, is nearly obsolete. When the verb agrees with the plural number it is usually the same as when it agrees with the first person; as, "We write, you write, they write." There are few exceptions to these rules.

Some people have been very tenacious about retaining the old forms of words, and our books were long printed without alteration; but change will break thro every barrier, and book-makers must keep pace with the times, and put on the dress that is catered for them by the public taste; bearing in mind, meanwhile, that great and practical truths are more essential than the garb in which they appear. We should be more careful of our health of body and purity of morals than of the costume we put on. Many genteel coats wrap up corrupt hearts, and fine hats cover silly heads. What is the chaff to the wheat?

Even our good friends, the quakers, who have particularly labored to retain old forms—"the plain language,"—have failed in their attempt, and have substituted the object form of the pronoun for the agent, and say, "thee thinks," for thou thinkest. Their mistake is even greater than the substitution of you for thou.

So far as language depends on the conventional regulation of those who use it, it will be constantly changing; new words will be introduced, and the spelling of old ones altered, so as to agree with modern pronounciation. We have all lived long enough to witness the truth of this remark. The only rule we can give in relation to this matter is, to follow our own judgments, aided by our best writers and speakers.

The words which express action, are in many cases very similar to the agents which produce them; and the objects which are the direct results produced by such action, do not differ very materially. I will give you a few examples.

Agent. Verb. Object. Actors Act Actions Breathers Breathe Breath Builders Build Buildings Coiners Coin Coins Casters Cast Casts or castings Drinkers Drink Drink Dreamers Dream Dreams Earners Earn Earnings Fishers Fish Fishes Gainers Gain Gain Hewers Hew Hewings Innkeepers Keep Inns Light or lighters Light or shed Lights Miners Mine or dig Mines Pleaders Plead or make Pleas Producers Produce Products Raisers Raise Raisings or houses Runners or racers Run Runs or races Sufferers Suffer Sufferings Speakers Speak Speeches Thinkers Think Thoughts Writers Write Writings Workers Work Works

I give you these examples to show you the near alliance between actors, ( ,) and actions; or agents, actions, and objects. Such expressions as the above are inelegant, because they are uncommon; but for no other reason, for we, in numberless cases, employ the same word for agent and verb; as, painters paint buildings, and artists paint paintings; bookbinders bind books; printers print books, and other prints. A little observation will enable you to carry out these hints, and profit by them. You have observed the disposition in children, and foreigners, who are partially acquainted with our language, to make verbs out of almost every noun, which appears to us very aukward; but was it common, it would be just as correct as the verbs now used. There are very few verbs which have not a noun to correspond with them, for we make verbs, that is, we use words to express action, which are nearly allied to the agent with which such action agrees.[17] From botany we have made botanize; from Mr. McAdam, the inventor of a particular kind of road, macadamize, which means to make roads as he made them. Words are formed in this way very frequently. The word church is often used as a noun to express a building used for public worship; for the services performed in it; for the whole congregation; for a portion of believers associated together; for the Episcopal order, etc. It is also used as a verb. Mr. Webster defines it, "To perform with any one the office of returning thanks in the church after any signal deliverance." But the word has taken quite a different turn of late. To church a person, instead of receiving him into communion, as that term would seem to imply, signifies to deal with an offending member, to excommunicate, or turn him out.

But I will not pursue this point any farther. The brief hints I have thrown out, will enable you to discover how the meaning and forms of words are changed from their original application to suit the notions and improvements of after ages. A field is here presented which needs cultivation. The young should be taught to search for the etymology of words, to trace their changes and meaning as used at different times and by different people, keeping their minds constantly directed to the object signified by such verbal sign. This is the business of philosophy, under whatever name it may be taught; for grammar, rhetoric, logic, and the science of the mind, are intimately blended, and should always be taught in connexion. We have already seen that words without meaning are like shadows without realities. And persons can not employ language "correctly," or "with propriety," till they have acquainted themselves with the import of such language—the ideas of things signified by it. Let this course be adopted in the education of children, and they will not be required to spend months and years in the study of an "art" which they can not comprehend, for the simple reason that they can not apply it in practice. Grammar has been taught as a mere art, depending on arbitrary rules to be mechanically learned, rather than a science involving the soundest and plainest principles of philosophy, which are to be known only as developed in common practice among men, and in accordance with the permanent laws which govern human thought.