17. In a New-York edition of Murray's Grammar, printed in 1812, there was inserted a "Caution to the Public," by Collins & Co., his American correspondents and publishers, in which are set forth the unparalleled success and merit of the work, "as it came in purity from the pen of the author;" with an earnest remonstrance against the several revised editions which had appeared at Boston, Philadelphia, and other places, and against the unwarrantable liberties taken by American teachers, in altering the work, under pretence of improving it. In this article it is stated, "that the whole of these mutilated editions have been seen and examined by Lindley Murray himself, and that they, have met with his decided disapprobation. Every rational mind," continue these gentlemen, "will agree with him, that, 'the rights of living authors, and the interests of science and literature, demand the abolition of this ungenerous practice.'" (See this also in Murray's Key, 12mo, N. Y., 1811, p. iii.) Here, then, we have the feeling and opinion of Murray himself, upon this tender point of right. Here we see the tables turned, and other men judging it "scarcely necessary to apologize for the use which they have made of their predecessors' labours."

18. It is really remarkable to find an author and his admirers so much at variance, as are Murray and his commenders, in relation to his grammatical authorship; and yet, under what circumstances could men have stronger desires to avoid apparent contradiction? They, on the one side, claim for him the highest degree of merit as a grammarian; and continue to applaud his works as if nothing more could be desired in the study of English grammar—a branch of learning which some of them are willing emphatically to call "his science." He, on the contrary, to avert the charge of plagiarism, disclaims almost every thing in which any degree of literary merit consists; supposes it impossible to write an English grammar the greater part of which is not a "compilation;" acknowledges that originality belongs to but a small part of his own; trusts that such a general acknowledgement will protect him from all censure; suppresses the names of other writers, and leaves his examples to rest solely on his own authority; and, "contented with the great respectability of his private character and station, is satisfied with being useful as an author."—The Friend, Vol. iii, p. 33. By the high praises bestowed upon his works, his own voice is overborne: the trumpet of fame has drowned it. His liberal authorship is profitable in trade, and interest has power to swell and prolong the strain.

19. The name and character of Lindley Murray are too venerable to allow us to approach even the errors of his grammars, without some recognition of the respect due to his personal virtues and benevolent intentions. For the private virtues of Murray, I entertain as cordial a respect as any other man. Nothing is argued against these, even if it be proved that causes independent of true literary merit have given him his great and unexpected fame as a grammarian. It is not intended by the introduction of these notices, to impute to him any thing more or less than what his own words plainly imply; except those inaccuracies and deficiencies which still disgrace his work as a literary performance, and which of course he did not discover. He himself knew that he had not brought the book to such perfection as has been ascribed to it; for, by way of apology for his frequent alterations, he says, "Works of this nature admit of repeated improvements; and are, perhaps, never complete." Necessity has urged this reasoning upon me. I am as far from any invidious feeling, or any sordid motive, as was Lindley Murray. But it is due to truth, to correct erroneous impressions; and, in order to obtain from some an impartial examination of the following pages, it seemed necessary first to convince them, that it is possible to compose a better grammar than Murray's, without being particularly indebted to him. If this treatise is not such, a great deal of time has been thrown away upon a useless project; and if it is, the achievement is no fit subject for either pride or envy. It differs from his, and from all the pretended amendments of his, as a new map, drawn from actual and minute surveys, differs from an old one, compiled chiefly from others still older and confessedly still more imperfect. The region and the scope are essentially the same; the tracing and the colouring are more original; and (if the reader can pardon the suggestion) perhaps more accurate and vivid.

20. He who makes a new grammar, does nothing for the advancement of learning, unless his performance excel all earlier ones designed for the same purpose; and nothing for his own honour, unless such excellence result from the exercise of his own ingenuity and taste. A good style naturally commends itself to every reader—even to him who cannot tell why it is worthy of preference. Hence there is reason to believe, that the true principles of practical grammar, deduced from custom and sanctioned by time, will never be generally superseded by any thing which individual caprice may substitute. In the republic of letters, there will always be some who can distinguish merit; and it is impossible that these should ever be converted to any whimsical theory of language, which goes to make void the learning of past ages. There will always be some who can discern the difference between originality of style, and innovation in doctrine,—between a due regard to the opinions of others, and an actual usurpation of their text; and it is incredible that these should ever be satisfied with any mere compilation of grammar, or with any such authorship as either confesses or betrays the writer's own incompetence. For it is not true, that, "an English grammar must necessarily be," in any considerable degree, if at all, "a compilation;" nay, on such a theme, and in "the grammatical part" of the work, all compilation beyond a fair use of authorities regularly quoted, or of materials either voluntarily furnished or free to all, most unavoidably implies—not conscious "ability," generously doing honour to rival merit—nor "exemplary diffidence," modestly veiling its own—but inadequate skill and inferior talents, bribing the public by the spoils of genius, and seeking precedence by such means as not even the purest desire of doing good can justify.

21. Among the professed copiers of Murray, there is not one to whom the foregoing remarks do not apply, as forcibly as to him. For no one of them all has attempted any thing more honourable to himself, or more beneficial to the public, than what their master had before achieved; nor is there any one, who, with the same disinterestedness, has guarded his design from the imputation of a pecuniary motive. It is comical to observe what they say in their prefaces. Between praise to sustain their choice of a model, and blame to make room for their pretended amendments, they are often placed in as awkward a dilemma, as that which was contrived when grammar was identified with compilation. I should have much to say, were I to show them all in their true light.[9] Few of them have had such success as to be worthy of notice here; but the names of many will find frequent place in my code of false grammar. The one who seems to be now taking the lead in fame and revenue, filled with glad wonder at his own popularity, is SAMUEL KIRKHAM. Upon this gentleman's performance, I shall therefore bestow a few brief observations. If I do not overrate this author's literary importance, a fair exhibition of the character of his grammar, may be made an instructive lesson to some of our modern literati. The book is a striking sample of a numerous species.

22. Kirkham's treatise is entitled, "English Grammar in familiar Lectures, accompanied by a Compendium;" that is, by a folded sheet. Of this work, of which I have recently seen copies purporting to be of the "SIXTY-SEVENTH EDITION," and others again of the "HUNDRED AND FIFTH EDITION," each published at Baltimore in 1835, I can give no earlier account, than what may be derived from the "SECOND EDITION, enlarged and much improved," which was published at Harrisburg in 1825. The preface, which appears to have been written for his first edition, is dated, "Fredericktown, Md., August 22, 1823." In it, there is no recognition of any obligation to Murray, or to any other grammarian in particular; but with the modest assumption, that the style of the "best philologists," needed to be retouched, the book is presented to the world under the following pretensions:

"The author of this production has endeavoured to condense all the most important subject-matter of the whole science, and present it in so small a compass that the learner can become familiarly acquainted with it in a short time. He makes but small pretensions to originality in theoretical matter. Most of the principles laid down, have been selected from our best modern philologists. If his work is entitled to any degree of merit, it is not on account of a judicious selection of principles and rules, but for the easy mode adopted of communicating these to the mind of the learner."—Kirkham's Grammar, 1825, p. 10.

23. It will be found on examination, that what this author regarded as "all the most important subject-matter of the whole science" of grammar, included nothing more than the most common elements of the orthography, etymology, and syntax, of the English tongue—beyond which his scholarship appears not to have extended. Whatsoever relates to derivation, to the sounds of the letters, to prosody, (as punctuation, utterance, figures, versification, and poetic diction,) found no place in his "comprehensive system of grammar;" nor do his later editions treat any of these things amply or well. In short, he treats nothing well; for he is a bad writer. Commencing his career of authorship under circumstances the most forbidding, yet receiving encouragement from commendations bestowed in pity, he proceeded, like a man of business, to profit mainly by the chance; and, without ever acquiring either the feelings or the habits of a scholar, soon learned by experience that, "It is much better to write than [to] starve."—Kirkham's Gram., Stereotyped, p. 89. It is cruel in any man, to look narrowly into the faults of an author who peddles a school-book for bread. The starveling wretch whose defence and plea are poverty and sickness, demands, and must have, in the name of humanity, an immunity from criticism, if not the patronage of the public. Far be it from me, to notice any such character, except with kindness and charity. Nor need I be told, that tenderness is due to the "young;" or that noble results sometimes follow unhopeful beginnings. These things are understood and duly appreciated. The gentleman was young once, even as he says; and I, his equal in years, was then, in authorship, as young—though, it were to be hoped, not quite so immature. But, as circumstances alter cases, so time and chance alter circumstances. Under no circumstances, however, can the artifices of quackery be thought excusable in him who claims to be the very greatest of modern grammarians. The niche that in the temple of learning belongs to any individual, can be no other than that which his own labours have purchased: here, his own merit alone must be his pedestal. If this critical sketch be unimpeachably just, its publication requires no further warrant. The correction has been forborne, till the subject of it has become rich, and popular, and proud; proud enough at least to have published his utter contempt for me and all my works. Yet not for this do I judge him worthy of notice here, but merely as an apt example of some men's grammatical success and fame. The ways and means to these grand results are what I purpose now to consider.

24. The common supposition, that the world is steadily advancing in knowledge and improvement, would seem to imply, that the man who could plausibly boast of being the most successful and most popular grammarian of the nineteenth century, cannot but be a scholar of such merit as to deserve some place, if not in the general literary history of his age, at least in the particular history of the science which he teaches. It will presently be seen that the author of "English Grammar in Familiar Lectures," boasts of a degree of success and popularity, which, in this age of the world, has no parallel. It is not intended on my part, to dispute any of his assertions on these points; but rather to take it for granted, that in reputation and revenue he is altogether as preeminent as he pretends to be. The character of his alleged improvements, however, I shall inspect with the eyes of one who means to know the certainty for himself; and, in this item of literary history, the reader shall see, in some sort, what profit there is in grammar. Is the common language of two of the largest and most enlightened nations on earth so little understood, and its true grammar so little known or appreciated, that one of the most unscholarly and incompetent of all pretenders to grammar can have found means to outrival all the grammarians who have preceded him? Have plagiarism and quackery become the only means of success in philology? Are there now instances to which an intelligent critic may point, and say, "This man, or that, though he can scarcely write a page of good English, has patched up a grammar, by the help of Murray's text only, and thereby made himself rich?" Is there such a charm in the name of Murray, and the word improvement, that by these two implements alone, the obscurest of men, or the absurdest of teachers, may work his passage to fame; and then, perchance, by contrast of circumstances, grow conceited and arrogant, from the fortune of the undertaking? Let us see what we can find in Kirkham's Grammar, which will go to answer these questions.

25. Take first from one page of his "hundred and fifth edition," a few brief quotations, as a sample of his thoughts and style:

"They, however, who introduce usages which depart from the analogy and philosophy of a language, are conspicuous among the number of those who form that language, and have power to control it." "PRINCIPLE.—A principle in grammar is a peculiar construction of the language, sanctioned by good usage." "DEFINITION.—A definition in grammar is a principle of language expressed in a definite form." "RULE.—A rule describes the peculiar construction or circumstantial relation of words, which custom has established for our observance."—Kirkham's Grammar, page 18.

Now, as "a rule describes a peculiar construction," and "a principle is a peculiar construction," and "a definition is a principle;" how, according to this grammarian, do a principle, a definition, and a rule, differ each from the others? From the rote here imposed, it is certainly not easier for the learner to conceive of all these things distinctly, than it is to understand how a departure from philosophy may make a man deservedly "conspicuous." It were easy to multiply examples like these, showing the work to be deficient in clearness, the first requisite of style.

26. The following passages may serve as a specimen of the gentleman's taste, and grammatical accuracy; in one of which, he supposes the neuter verb is to express an action, and every honest man to be long since dead! So it stands in all his editions. Did his praisers think so too?

"It is correct to say, The man eats, he eats; but we cannot say, The man dog eats, he dog eats. Why not? Because the man is here represented as the possessor, and dog, the property, or thing possessed; and the genius of our language requires, that when we add to the possessor, the thing which he is represented as possessing, the possessor shall take a particular form to show ITS case, or relation to the property."—Ib., p. 52.

THE PRESENT TENSE.—"This tense is sometimes applied to represent the actions of persons long since dead; as, 'Seneca reasons and moralizes well; An HONEST MAN IS the noblest work of God.'"—Ib., p. 138.

PARTICIPLES.—"The term Participle comes from the Latin word participio,[10] which signifies to partake."—"Participles are formed by adding to the verb the termination ing, ed, or en. Ing signifies the same thing as the noun being. When postfixed to the noun-state of the verb, the compound word thus formed expresses a continued state of the verbal denotement. It implies that what is meant by the verb, is being continued."—Ib., p. 78. "All participles are compound in their meaning and office."—Ib., p. 79.

VERBS.—"Verbs express, not only the state or manner of being, but, likewise, all the different actions and movements of all creatures and things, whether animate or inanimate."—Ib., p. 62. "It can be easily shown, that from the noun and verb, all the other parts of speech have sprung. Nay, more. They may even be reduced to one. Verbs do not, in reality, express actions; but they are intrinsically the mere NAMES of actions."—Ib., p. 37.

PHILOSOPHICAL GRAMMAR.—"I have thought proper to intersperse through the pages of this work, under the head of 'Philosophical Notes,' an entire system of grammatical principles, as deduced from what appears[11] to me to be the most rational and consistent philosophical investigations."— Ib., p. 36. "Johnson, and Blair, and Lowth, would have been laughed at, had they essayed to thrust any thing like our modernized philosophical grammar down the throats of their cotemporaries."—Ib., p. 143.

Is it not a pity, that "more than one hundred thousand children and youth" should be daily poring over language and logic like this?

27. For the sake of those who happily remain ignorant of this successful empiricism, it is desirable that the record and exposition of it be made brief. There is little danger that it will long survive its author. But the present subjects of it are sufficiently numerous to deserve some pity. The following is a sample of the gentleman's method of achieving what he both justly and exultingly supposes, that Johnson, or Blair, or Lowth, could not have effected. He scoffs at his own grave instructions, as if they had been the production of some other impostor. Can the fact be credited, that in the following instances, he speaks of what he himself teaches?—of what he seriously pronounces "most rational and consistent?"—of what is part and parcel of that philosophy of his, which he declares, "will in general be found to accord with the practical theory embraced in the body of his work?"—See Kirkham's Gram., p. 36.

"Call this 'philosophical parsing, on reasoning principles, according to the original laws of nature and of thought,' and the pill will be swallowed, by pedants and their dupes, with the greatest ease imaginable."—Kirkham's Gram., p. 144. "For the satisfaction of those teachers who prefer it, and for their adoption, too, a modernized philosophical theory of the moods and tenses is here presented. If it is not quite so convenient and useful as the old one, they need not hesitate to adopt it. It has the advantage of being new; and, moreover, it sounds large, and will make the commonalty stare. Let it be distinctly understood that you teach '[Kirkham's] philosophical grammar, founded on reason and common sense,' and you will pass for a very learned man, and make all the good housewives wonder at the rapid march of intellect, and the vast improvements of the age."—Ib., p. 141.

28. The pretty promises with which these "Familiar Lectures" abound, are also worthy to be noticed here, as being among the peculiar attractions of the performance. The following may serve as a specimen:

"If you proceed according to my instructions, you will be sure to acquire a practical knowledge of Grammar in a short time."—Kirkham's Gram., p. 49. "If you have sufficient resolution to do this, you will, in a short time, perfectly understand the nature and office of the different parts of speech, their various properties and relations, and the rules of syntax that apply to them; and, in a few weeks, be able to speak and write accurately."—Ib., p. 62. "You will please to turn back and read over again the whole five lectures. You must exercise a little patience."—Ib., p. 82. "By studying these lectures with attention, you will acquire more grammatical knowledge in three months, than is commonly obtained in two years."—Ib., p. 82. "I will conduct you so smoothly through the moods and tenses, and the conjugation of verbs, that, instead of finding yourself involved in obscurities and deep intricacies, you will scarcely find an obstruction to impede your progress."—Ib., p. 133. "The supposed Herculean task of learning to conjugate verbs, will be transformed into a few hours of pleasant pastime."—Ib., p. 142. "By examining carefully the conjugation of the verb through this mood, you will find it very easy."—Ib., p. 147. "By pursuing the following direction, you can, in a very short time, learn to conjugate any verb."—Ib., p. 147. "Although this mode of procedure may, at first, appear to be laborious, yet, as it is necessary, I trust you will not hesitate to adopt it. My confidence in your perseverance, induces me to recommend any course which I know will tend to facilitate your progress."—Ib., p. 148.

29. The grand boast of this author is, that he has succeeded in "pleasing himself and the public." He trusts to have "gained the latter point," to so great an extent, and with such security of tenure, that henceforth no man can safely question the merit of his performance. Happy mortal! to whom that success which is the ground of his pride, is also the glittering aegis of his sure defence! To this he points with exultation and self-applause, as if the prosperity of the wicked, or the popularity of an imposture, had never yet been heard of in this clever world![12] Upon what merit this success has been founded, my readers may judge, when I shall have finished this slight review of his work. Probably no other grammar was ever so industriously spread. Such was the author's perseverance in his measures to increase the demand for his book, that even the attainment of such accuracy as he was capable of, was less a subject of concern. For in an article designed "to ward off some of the arrows of criticism,"—an advertisement which, from the eleventh to the "one hundred and fifth edition," has been promising "to the publick another and a better edition,"—he plainly offers this urgent engagement, as "an apology for its defects:"

"The author is apprehensive that his work is not yet as accurate and as much simplified as it may be. If, however, the disadvantages of lingering under a broken constitution, and of being able to devote to this subject only a small portion of his time, snatched from the active pursuits of a business life, (active as far as imperfect health permits him to be,) are any apology for his defects, he hopes that the candid will set down the apology to his credit.—Not that he would beg a truce with the gentlemen criticks and reviewers. Any compromise with them would betray a want of self-confidence and moral courage, which he would by no means, be willing to avow."—Kirkham's Gram., (Adv. of 1829,) p. 7.

30. Now, to this painful struggle, this active contention between business and the vapours, let all credit be given, and all sympathy be added; but, as an aid to the studies of healthy children, what better is the book, for any forbearance or favour that may have been won by this apology? It is well known, that, till phrenology became the common talk, the author's principal business was, to commend his own method of teaching grammar, and to turn this publication to profit. This honourable industry, aided, as himself suggests, by "not much less than one thousand written recommendations," is said to have wrought for him, in a very few years, a degree of success and fame, at which both the eulogists of Murray and the friends of English grammar may hang their heads. As to a "compromise" with any critic or reviewer whom he cannot bribe, it is enough to say of that, it is morally impossible. Nor was it necessary for such an author to throw the gauntlet, to prove himself not lacking in "self-confidence." He can show his "moral courage," only by daring do right.

31. In 1829, after his book had gone through ten editions, and the demand for it had become so great as "to call forth twenty thousand copies during the year," the prudent author, intending to veer his course according to the trade-wind, thought it expedient to retract his former acknowledgement to "our best modern philologists," and to profess himself a modifier of the Great Compiler's code. Where then holds the anchor of his praise? Let the reader say, after weighing and comparing his various pretensions:

"Aware that there is, in the publick mind, a strong predilection for the doctrines contained in Mr. Murray's grammar, he has thought proper, not merely from motives of policy, but from choice, to select his principles chiefly from that work; and, moreover, to adopt, as far as consistent with his own views, the language of that eminent philologist. In no instance has he varied from him, unless he conceived that, in so doing, some practical advantage would be gained. He hopes, therefore, to escape the censure so frequently and so justly awarded to those unfortunate innovators who have not scrupled to alter, mutilate, and torture the text of that able writer, merely to gratify an itching propensity to figure in the world as authors, and gain an ephemeral popularity by arrogating to themselves the credit due to another." [13]—Kirkham's Gram., 1829, p. 10.

32. Now these statements are either true or false; and I know not on which supposition they are most creditable to the writer. Had any Roman grammatist thus profited by the name of Varro or Quintilian, he would have been filled with constant dread of somewhere meeting the injured author's frowning shade! Surely, among the professed admirers of Murray, no other man, whether innovator or copyist, unfortunate or successful, is at all to be compared to this gentleman for the audacity with which he has "not scrupled to alter, mutilate, and torture, the text of that able writer." Murray simply intended to do good, and good that might descend to posterity; and this just and generous intention goes far to excuse even his errors. But Kirkham, speaking of posterity, scruples not to disavow and to renounce all care for them, or for any thing which a coming age may think of his character: saying,

"My pretensions reach not so far. To the present generation only, I present my claims. Should it lend me a listening ear, and grant me its suffrages, the height of my ambition will be attained."—Advertisement, in his Elocution, p. 346.

His whole design is, therefore, upon the very face of it, a paltry scheme of present income. And, seeing his entered classes of boys and girls must soon have done with him, he has doubtless acted wisely, and quite in accordance with his own interest, to have made all possible haste in his career.

33. Being no rival with him in this race, and having no personal quarrel with him on any account, I would, for his sake, fain rejoice at his success, and withhold my criticisms; because he is said to have been liberal with his gains, and because he has not, like some others, copied me instead of Murray. But the vindication of a greatly injured and perverted science, constrains me to say, on this occasion, that pretensions less consistent with themselves, or less sustained by taste and scholarship, have seldom, if ever, been promulgated in the name of grammar. I have, certainly, no intention to say more than is due to the uninformed and misguided. For some who are ungenerous and prejudiced themselves, will not be unwilling to think me so; and even this freedom, backed and guarded as it is by facts and proofs irrefragable, may still be ingeniously ascribed to an ill motive. To two thirds of the community, one grammar is just as good as an other; because they neither know, nor wish to know, more than may be learned from the very worst. An honest expression of sentiment against abuses of a literary nature, is little the fashion of these times; and the good people who purchase books upon the recommendations of others, may be slow to believe there is no merit where so much has been attributed. But facts may well be credited, in opposition to courteous flattery, when there are the author's own words and works to vouch for them in the face of day. Though a thousand of our great men may have helped a copier's weak copyist to take "some practical advantage" of the world's credulity, it is safe to aver, in the face of dignity still greater, that testimonials more fallacious have seldom mocked the cause of learning. They did not read his book.

34. Notwithstanding the author's change in his professions, the work is now essentially the same as it was at first; except that its errors and contradictions have been greatly multiplied, by the addition of new matter inconsistent with the old. He evidently cares not what doctrines he teaches, or whose; but, as various theories are noised abroad, seizes upon different opinions, and mixes them together, that his books may contain something to suit all parties. "A System of Philosophical Grammar," though but an idle speculation, even in his own account, and doubly absurd in him, as being flatly contradictory to his main text, has been thought worthy of insertion. And what his title-page denominates "A New System of Punctuation," though mostly in the very words of Murray, was next invented to supply a deficiency which he at length discovered. To admit these, and some other additions, the "comprehensive system-of grammar" was gradually extended from 144 small duodecimo pages, to 228 of the ordinary size. And, in this compass, it was finally stereotyped in 1829; so that the ninety-four editions published since, have nothing new for history.

35. But the publication of an other work designed for schools, "An Essay an Elocution" shows the progress of the author's mind. Nothing can be more radically opposite, than are some of the elementary doctrines which this gentleman is now teaching; nothing, more strangely inconsistent, than are some of his declarations and professions. For instance: "A consonant is a letter that cannot be perfectly sounded without the help of a vowel."—Kirkham's Gram., p. 19. Again: "A consonant is not only capable of being perfectly sounded without the help of a vowel, but, moreover, of forming, like a vowel, a separate syllable."—Kirkham's Elocution, p. 32. Take a second example. He makes "ADJECTIVE PRONOUNS" a prominent division and leading title, in treating of the pronouns proper; defines the term in a manner peculiar to himself; prefers and uses it in all his parsing; and yet, by the third sentence of the story, the learner is conducted to this just conclusion: "Hence, such a thing as an adjective-pronoun cannot exist."—Grammar, p. 105. Once more. Upon his own rules, or such as he had borrowed, he comments thus, and comments truly, because he had either written them badly or made an ill choice: "But some of these rules are foolish, trifling, and unimportant."—Elocution, p. 97. Again: "Rules 10 and 11, rest on a sandy foundation. They appear not to be based on the principles of the language."—Grammar, p. 59. These are but specimens of his own frequent testimony against himself! Nor shall he find refuge in the impudent falsehood, that the things which I quote as his, are not his own.[14] These contradictory texts, and scores of others which might be added to them, are as rightfully his own, as any doctrine he has ever yet inculcated. But, upon the credulity of ignorance, his high-sounding certificates and unbounded boasting can impose any thing. They overrule all in favour of cue of the worst grammars extant;—of which he says, "it is now studied by more than one hundred thousand children and youth; and is more extensively used than all other English grammars published in the United States."—Elocution, p. 347. The booksellers say, he receives from his publishers ten cents a copy, on this work, and that he reports the sale of sixty thousand copies per annum. Such has of late been his public boast. I have once had the story from his own lips, and of course congratulated him, though I dislike the book. Six thousand dollars a year, on this most miserable modification of Lindley Murray's Grammar! Be it so—or double, if he and the public please. Murray had so little originality in his work, or so little selfishness in his design, that he would not take any thing; and his may ultimately prove the better bargain.

36. A man may boast and bless himself as he pleases, his fortune, surely, can never be worthy of an other's envy, so long as he finds it inadequate to his own great merits, and unworthy of his own poor gratitude. As a grammarian, Kirkham claims to be second only to Lindley Murray; and says, "Since the days of Lowth, no other work on grammar, Murray's only excepted, has been so favourably received by the publick as his own. As a proof of this, he would mention, that within the last six years it has passed through fifty editions."—Preface to Elocution, p. 12. And, at the same time, and in the same preface, he complains, that, "Of all the labours done under the sun, the labours of the pen meet with the poorest reward."—Ibid., p. 5. This too clearly favours the report, that his books were not written by himself, but by others whom he hired. Possibly, the anonymous helper may here have penned, not his employer's feeling, but a line of his own experience. But I choose to ascribe the passage to the professed author, and to hold him answerable for the inconsistency. Willing to illustrate by the best and fairest examples these fruitful means of grammatical fame, I am glad of his present success, which, through this record, shall become yet more famous. It is the only thing which makes him worthy of the notice here taken of him. But I cannot sympathize with his complaint, because he never sought any but "the poorest reward;" and more than all he sought, he found. In his last "Address to Teachers," he says, "He may doubtless be permitted emphatically to say with Prospero, 'Your breath has filled my sails.'"—Elocution, p. 18. If this boasting has any truth in it, he ought to be satisfied. But it is written, "He that loveth silver, shall not be satisfied with silver; nor he that loveth abundance, with increase." Let him remember this.[15] He now announces three or four other works as forthcoming shortly. What these will achieve, the world will see. But I must confine myself to the Grammar.

37. In this volume, scarcely any thing is found where it might be expected. "The author," as he tells us in his preface, "has not followed the common 'artificial and unnatural arrangement adopted by most of his predecessors;' yet he has endeavoured to pursue a more judicious one, namely, 'the order of the understanding.'"—Grammar, p. 12. But if this is the order of his understanding, he is greatly to be pitied. A book more confused in its plan, more wanting in method, more imperfect in distinctness of parts, more deficient in symmetry, or more difficult of reference, shall not easily be found in stereotype. Let the reader try to follow us here. Bating twelve pages at the beginning, occupied by the title, recommendations, advertisement, contents, preface, hints to teachers, and advice to lecturers; and fifty-four at the end, embracing syntax, orthography, orthoepy, provincialisms, prosody, punctuation, versification, rhetoric, figures of speech, and a Key, all in the sequence here given; the work consists of fourteen chapters of grammar, absurdly called "Familiar Lectures." The first treats of sundries, under half a dozen titles, but chiefly of Orthography; and the last is three pages and a half, of the most common remarks, on Derivation. In the remaining twelve, the Etymology and Syntax of the ten parts of speech are commingled; and an attempt is made, to teach simultaneously all that the author judged important in either. Hence he gives us, in a strange congeries, rules, remarks, illustrations, false syntax, systematic parsing, exercises in parsing, two different orders of notes, three different orders of questions, and a variety of other titles merely occasional. All these things, being additional to his main text, are to be connected, in the mind of the learner, with the parts of speech successively, in some new and inexplicable catenation found only in the arrangement of the lectures. The author himself could not see through the chaos. He accordingly made his table of contents a mere meagre alphabetical index. Having once attempted in vain to explain the order of his instructions, he actually gave the matter up in despair!

38. In length, these pretended lectures vary, from three or four pages, to eight-and-thirty. Their subjects run thus: 1. Language, Grammar, Orthography; 2. Nouns and Verbs; 3. Articles; 4. Adjectives; 5. Participles; 6. Adverbs; 7. Prepositions; 8. Pronouns; 9. Conjunctions; 10. Interjections and Nouns; 11. Moods and Tenses; 12. Irregular Verbs; 13. Auxiliary, Passive, and Defective Verbs; 14. Derivation. Which, now, is "more judicious," such confusion as this, or the arrangement which has been common from time immemorial? Who that has any respect for the human intellect, or whose powers of mind deserve any in return, will avouch this jumble to be "the order of the understanding?" Are the methods of science to be accounted mere hinderances to instruction? Has grammar really been made easy by this confounding of its parts? Or are we lured by the name, "Familiar Lectures,"—a term manifestly adopted as a mere decoy, and, with respect to the work itself, totally inappropriate? If these chapters have ever been actually delivered as a series of lectures, the reader must have been employed on some occasions eight or ten times as long as on others! "People," says Dr. Johnson, "have now-a-days got a strange opinion that every thing should be taught by lectures. Now, I cannot see that lectures can do so much good as a private reading of the books from which the lectures are taken. I know of nothing that can be best taught by lectures, except where experiments are to be shown. You may teach chymistry by lectures—you might teach the making of shoes by lectures." —Boswell's Life of Johnson.

39. With singular ignorance and untruth, this gentleman claims to have invented a better method of analysis than had ever been practised before. Of other grammars, his preface avers, "They have all overlooked what the author considers a very important object; namely, a systematick order of parsing."—Grammar, p. 9. And, in his "Hints to Teachers," presenting himself as a model, and his book as a paragon, he says: "By pursuing this system, he can, with less labour, advance a pupil farther in the practical knowledge of this abstruse science, in two months, than he could in one year, when he taught in the old way."—Grammar, p. 12. What his "old way" was, does not appear. Doubtless something sufficiently bad. And as to his new way, I shall hereafter have occasion to show that that is sufficiently bad also. But to this gasconade the simple-minded have given credit—because the author showed certificates that testified to his great success, and called him "amiable and modest!" But who can look into the book, or into the writer's pretensions in regard to his predecessors, and conceive the merit which has made him—"preeminent by so much odds?" Was Murray less praiseworthy, less amiable, or less modest? In illustration of my topic, and for the sake of literary justice, I have selected that honoured "Compiler" to show the abuses of praise; let the history of this his vaunting modifier cap the climax of vanity. In general, his amendments of "that eminent philologist," are not more skillful than the following touch upon an eminent dramatist; and here, it is plain, he has mistaken two nouns for adjectives, and converted into bad English a beautiful passage, the sentiment of which is worthy of an author's recollection:

"The evil deed or deeds that men do, lives after them; The good deed or deeds is oft interred with their bones." [16] Kirkham's Grammar, p. 75.

40. Lord Bacon observes, "Nothing is thought so easy a request to a great person as his letter; and yet, if it be not in a good cause, it is so much out of his reputation." It is to this mischievous facility of recommendation, this prostituted influence of great names, that the inconvenient diversity of school-books, and the continued use of bad ones, are in a great measure to be attributed. It belongs to those who understand the subjects of which authors profess to treat, to judge fairly and fully of their works, and then to let the reasons of their judgement be known. For no one will question the fact, that a vast number of the school-books now in use are either egregious plagiarisms or productions of no comparative merit. And, what is still more surprising and monstrous, presidents, governors, senators, and judges; professors, doctors, clergymen, and lawyers; a host of titled connoisseurs; with incredible facility lend their names, not only to works of inferior merit, but to the vilest thefts, and the wildest absurdities, palmed off upon their own and the public credulity, under pretence of improvement. The man who thus prefixes his letter of recommendation to an ill-written book, publishes, out of mere courtesy, a direct impeachment of his own scholarship or integrity. Yet, how often have we seen the honours of a high office, or even of a worthy name, prostituted to give a temporary or local currency to a book which it would disgrace any man of letters to quote! With such encouragement, nonsense wrestles for the seat of learning, exploded errors are republished as novelties, original writers are plundered by dunces, and men that understand nothing well, profess to teach all sciences!

41. All praise of excellence must needs be comparative, because the thing itself is so. To excel in grammar, is but to know better than others wherein grammatical excellence consists. Hence there is no fixed point of perfection beyond which such learning may not be carried. The limit to improvement is not so much in the nature of the subject, as in the powers of the mind, and in the inducements to exert them upon a theme so humble and so uninviting. Dr. Johnson suggests, in his masterly preface, "that a whole life cannot be spent upon syntax and etymology, and that even a whole life would not be sufficient." Who then will suppose, in the face of such facts and confessions as have been exhibited, that either in the faulty publications of Murray, or among the various modifications of them by other hands we have any such work as deserves to be made a permanent standard of instruction in English grammar? With great sacrifices, both of pleasure and of interest, I have humbly endeavoured to supply this desideratum; and it remains for other men to determine, and other times to know, what place shall be given to these my labours, in the general story of this branch of learning. Intending to develop not only the principles but also the history of grammar, I could not but speak of its authors. The writer who looks broadly at the past and the present, to give sound instruction to the future, must not judge of men by their shadows. If the truth, honestly told, diminish the stature of some, it does it merely by clearing the sight of the beholder. Real greatness cannot suffer loss by the dissipating of a vapour. If reputation has been raised upon the mist of ignorance, who but the builder shall lament its overthrow? If the works of grammarians are often ungrammatical, whose fault is this but their own? If all grammatical fame is little in itself, how can the abatement of what is undeserved of it be much? If the errors of some have long been tolerated, what right of the critic has been lost by nonuser? If the interests of Science have been sacrificed to Mammon, what rebuke can do injustice to the craft? Nay, let the broad-axe of the critic hew up to the line, till every beam in her temple be smooth and straight. For, "certainly, next to commending good writers, the greatest service to learning is, to expose the bad, who can only in that way be made of any use to it." [17] And if, among the makers of grammars, the scribblings of some, and the filchings of others, are discreditable alike to themselves and to their theme, let the reader consider, how great must be the intrinsic worth of that study which still maintains its credit in spite of all these abuses!



CHAPTER IV.

OF THE ORIGIN OF LANGUAGE.

"Tot fallaciis obrutum, tot hallucinationibus demersum, tot adhuc tenebris circumfusum studium hocce mihi visum est, ut nihil satis tuto in hac materia praestari posse arbitratus sim, nisi nova quadam arte critica praemissa."—SCIPIO MAFFEIUS: Cassiod. Complexiones, p. xxx.

1. The origin of things is, for many reasons, a peculiarly interesting point in their history. Among those who have thought fit to inquire into the prime origin of speech, it has been matter of dispute, whether we ought to consider it a special gift from Heaven, or an acquisition of industry—a natural endowment, or an artificial invention. Nor is any thing that has ever yet been said upon it, sufficient to set the question permanently at rest. That there is in some words, and perhaps in some of every language, a natural connexion between the sounds uttered and the things signified, cannot be denied; yet, on the other hand, there is, in the use of words in general, so much to which nature affords no clew or index, that this whole process of communicating thought by speech, seems to be artificial. Under an other head, I have already cited from Sanctius some opinions of the ancient grammarians and philosophers on this point. With the reasoning of that zealous instructor, the following sentence from Dr. Blair very obviously accords: "To suppose words invented, or names given to things, in a manner purely arbitrary, without any ground or reason, is to suppose an effect without a cause. There must have always been some motive which led to the assignation of one name rather than an other."—Rhet., Lect. vi, p. 55.

2. But, in their endeavours to explain the origin and early progress of language, several learned men, among whom is this celebrated lecturer, have needlessly perplexed both themselves and their readers, with sundry questions, assumptions, and reasonings, which are manifestly contrary to what has been made known to us on the best of all authority. What signifies it[18] for a man to tell us how nations rude and barbarous invented interjections first,[19] and then nouns, and then verbs,[20] and finally the other parts of speech; when he himself confesses that he does not know whether language "can be considered a human invention at all;" and when he believed, or ought to have believed, that the speech of the first man, though probably augmented by those who afterwards used it, was, essentially, the one language of the earth for more than eighteen centuries? The task of inventing a language de novo, could surely have fallen upon no man but Adam; and he, in the garden of Paradise, had doubtless some aids and facilities not common to every wild man of the woods.

3. The learned Doctor was equally puzzled to conceive, "either how society could form itself, previously to language, or how words could rise into a language, previously to society formed."—Blair's Rhet., Lect. vi, p. 54. This too was but an idle perplexity, though thousands have gravely pored over it since, as a part of the study of rhetoric; for, if neither could be previous to the other, they must have sprung up simultaneously. And it is a sort of slander upon our prime ancestor, to suggest, that, because he was "the first," he must have been "the rudest" of his race; and that, "consequently, those first rudiments of speech," which alone the supposition allows to him or to his family, "must have been poor and narrow."—Blair's Rhet., p. 54. It is far more reasonable to think, with a later author, that, "Adam had an insight into natural things far beyond the acutest philosopher, as may be gathered from his giving of names to all creatures, according to their different constitutions."—Robinson's Scripture Characters, p. 4.

4. But Dr. Blair is not alone in the view which he here takes. The same thing has bean suggested by other learned men. Thus Dr. James P. Wilson, of Philadelphia, in an octavo published in 1817, says: "It is difficult to discern how communities could have existed without language, and equally so to discover how language could have obtained, in a peopled world, prior to society."—Wilson's Essay on Gram., p. 1. I know not how so many professed Christians, and some of them teachers of religion too, with the Bible in their hands, can reason upon this subject as they do. We find them, in their speculations, conspiring to represent primeval man, to use their own words, as a "savage, whose 'howl at the appearance of danger, and whose exclamations of joy at the sight of his prey, reiterated, or varied with the change of objects, were probably the origin of language.'—Booth's Analytical Dictionary. In the dawn of society, ages may have passed away, with little more converse than what these efforts would produce."—Gardiner's Music of Nature, p. 31. Here Gardiner quotes Booth with approbation, and the latter, like Wilson, may have borrowed his ideas from Blair. Thus are we taught by a multitude of guessers, grave, learned, and oracular, that the last of the ten parts of speech was in fact the first: "Interjections are exceedingly interesting in one respect. They are, there can be little doubt, the oldest words in all languages; and may be considered the elements of speech."—Bucke's Classical Gram., p. 78. On this point, however, Dr. Blair seems not to be quite consistent with himself: "Those exclamations, therefore, which by grammarians are called interjections, uttered in a strong and passionate manner, were, beyond doubt, the first elements or beginnings of speech."—Rhet., Lect. vi, p. 55. "The names of sensible objects were, in all languages, the words most early introduced."—Rhet., Lect. xiv, p. 135. "The names of sensible objects," says Murray too, "were the words most early introduced."—Octavo Gram., p. 336. Bat what says the Bible?

5. Revelation informs us that our first progenitor was not only endowed with the faculty of speech, but, as it would appear, actually incited by the Deity to exert that faculty in giving names to the objects by which he was surrounded. "Out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field and every fowl of the air; and brought them unto Adam, to see what he would call them: and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof. And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowls of the air, and to every beast of the field; but for Adam there was not found a help meet for him."—Gen., ii, 19, 20. This account of the first naming of the other creatures by man, is apparently a parenthesis in the story of the creation of woman, with which the second chapter of Genesis concludes. But, in the preceding chapter, the Deity is represented not only as calling all things into existence by his Word; but as speaking to the first human pair, with reference to their increase in the earth, and to their dominion over it, and over all the living creatures formed to inhabit it. So that the order of the events cannot be clearly inferred from the order of the narration. The manner of this communication to man, may also be a subject of doubt. Whether it was, or was not, made by a voice of words, may be questioned. But, surely, that Being who, in creating the world and its inhabitants, manifested his own infinite wisdom, eternal power, and godhead, does not lack words, or any other means of signification, if he will use them. And, in the inspired record of his work in the beginning, he is certainly represented, not only as naming all things imperatively, when he spoke them into being, but as expressly calling the light Day, the darkness Night, the firmament Heaven, the dry land Earth, and the gatherings of the mighty waters Seas.

6. Dr. Thomas Hartwell Horne, in commending a work by Dr. Ellis, concerning the origin of human wisdom and understanding, says: "It shows satisfactorily, that religion and language entered the world by divine revelation, without the aid of which, man had not been a rational or religious creature."—Study of the Scriptures, Vol. i, p. 4. "Plato attributes the primitive words of the first language to a divine origin;" and Dr. Wilson remarks, "The transition from silence to speech, implies an effort of the understanding too great for man."—Essay on Gram., p. 1. Dr. Beattie says, "Mankind must have spoken in all ages, the young constantly learning to speak by imitating those who were older; and, if so, our first parents must have received this art, as well as some others, by inspiration."—Moral Science, p. 27. Horne Tooke says, "I imagine that it is, in some measure, with the vehicle of our thoughts, as with the vehicles for our bodies. Necessity produced both."—Diversions of Purley, Vol. i, p. 20. Again: "Language, it is true, is an art, and a glorious one; whose influence extends over all the others, and in which finally all science whatever must centre: but an art springing from necessity, and originally invented by artless men, who did not sit down like philosophers to invent it."—Ib., Vol. i, p. 259.

7. Milton imagines Adam's first knowledge of speech, to have sprung from the hearing of his own voice; and that voice to have been raised, instinctively, or spontaneously, in an animated inquiry concerning his own origin—an inquiry in which he addresses to unintelligent objects, and inferior creatures, such questions as the Deity alone could answer:

"Myself I then perused, and limb by limb Surveyed, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran With supple joints, as lively vigor led: But who I was, or where, or from what cause, Knew not; to speak I tried, and forthwith spake; My tongue obeyed, and readily could name Whatever I saw. 'Thou Sun,' said I, 'fair light, And thou enlightened Earth, so fresh and gay, Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods, and Plains; And ye that live and move, fair Creatures! tell, Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here? Not of myself; by some great Maker then, In goodness and in power preeminent: Tell me how I may know him, how adore, From whom I have that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier than I know.'" Paradise Lost, Book viii, l. 267.

But, to the imagination of a poet, a freedom is allowed, which belongs not to philosophy. We have not always the means of knowing how far he literally believes what he states.

8. My own opinion is, that language is partly natural and partly artificial. And, as the following quotation from the Greek of Ammonius will serve in some degree to illustrate it, I present the passage in English for the consideration of those who may prefer ancient to modern speculations: "In the same manner, therefore, as mere motion is from nature, but dancing is something positive; and as wood exists in nature, but a door is something positive; so is the mere utterance of vocal sound founded in nature, but the signification of ideas by nouns or verbs is something positive. And hence it is, that, as to the simple power of producing vocal sound—which is as it were the organ or instrument of the soul's faculties of knowledge or volition—as to this vocal power, I say, man seems to possess it from nature, in like manner as irrational animals; but as to the power of using significantly nouns or verbs, or sentences combining these, (which are not natural but positive,) this he possesses by way of peculiar eminence; because he alone of all mortal beings partakes of a soul which can move itself, and operate to the production of arts. So that, even in the utterance of sounds, the inventive power of the mind is discerned; as the various elegant compositions, both in metre, and without metre, abundantly prove."—Ammon. de Interpr., p. 51.[21]

9. Man was made for society; and from the first period of human existence the race were social. Monkish seclusion is manifestly unnatural; and the wild independence of the savage, is properly denominated a state of nature, only in contradistinction to that state in which the arts are cultivated. But to civilized life, or even to that which is in any degree social, language is absolutely necessary. There is therefore no danger that the language of any nation shall fall into disuse, till the people by whom it is spoken, shall either adopt some other, or become themselves extinct. When the latter event occurs, as is the case with the ancient Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, the language, if preserved at all from oblivion, becomes the more permanent; because the causes which are constantly tending to improve or deteriorate every living language, have ceased to operate upon those which are learned only from ancient books. The inflections which now compose the declensions and conjugations of the dead languages, and which indeed have ever constituted the peculiar characteristics of those forms of speech, must remain forever as they are.

10. When a nation changes, its language, as did our forefathers in Britain, producing by a gradual amalgamation of materials drawn from various tongues a new one differing from all, the first stages of its grammar will of course be chaotic and rude. Uniformity springs from the steady application of rules; and polish is the work of taste and refinement. We may easily err by following the example of our early writers with more reverence than judgement; nor is it possible for us to do justice to the grammarians, whether early or late, without a knowledge both of the history and of the present state of the science which they profess to teach. I therefore think it proper rapidly to glance at many things remote indeed in time, yet nearer to my present purpose, and abundantly more worthy of the student's consideration, than a thousand matters which are taught for grammar by the authors of treatises professedly elementary.

11. As we have already seen, some have supposed that the formation of the first language must have been very slow and gradual. But of this they offer no proof, and from the pen of inspiration we seem to have testimony against it. Did Adam give names to all the creatures about him, and then allow those names to be immediately forgotten? Did not both he and his family continually use his original nouns in their social intercourse? and how could they use them, without other parts of speech to form them into sentences? Nay, do we not know from the Bible, that on several occasions our prime ancestor expressed himself like an intelligent man, and used all the parts of speech which are now considered necessary? What did he say, when his fit partner, the fairest and loveliest work of God, was presented to him? "This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man." And again: Had he not other words than nouns, when he made answer concerning his transgression: "I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself?" What is it, then, but a groundless assumption, to make him and his immediate descendants ignorant savages, and to affirm, with Dr. Blair, that "their speech must have been poor and narrow?" It is not possible now to ascertain what degree of perfection the oral communication of the first age exhibited. But, as languages are now known to improve in proportion to the improvement of society in civilization and intelligence, and as we cannot reasonably suppose the first inhabitants of the earth to have been savages, it seems, I think, a plausible conjecture, that the primeval tongue was at least sufficient for all the ordinary intercourse of civilized men, living in the simple manner ascribed to our early ancestors in Scripture; and that, in many instances, human speech subsequently declined far below its original standard.

12. At any rate, let it be remembered that the first language spoken on earth, whatever it was, originated in Eden before the fall; that this "one language," which all men understood until the dispersion, is to be traced, not to the cries of savage hunters, echoed through the wilds and glades where Nimrod planted Babel, but to that eastern garden of God's own planting, wherein grew "every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food;" to that paradise into which the Lord God put the new-created man, "to dress it and to keep it." It was here that Adam and his partner learned to speak, while yet they stood blameless and blessed, entire and wanting nothing; free in the exercise of perfect faculties of body and mind, capable of acquiring knowledge through observation and experience, and also favoured with immediate communications with their Maker. Yet Adam, having nothing which he did not receive, could not originally bring any real knowledge into the world with him, any more than men do now: this, in whatever degree attained, must be, and must always have been, either an acquisition of reason, or a revelation from God. And, according to the understanding of some, even in the beginning, "That was not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural; and afterward that which is spiritual."—1 Cor., xv, 46. That is, the spirit of Christ, the second Adam, was bestowed on the first Adam, after his creation, as the life and the light of the immortal soul. For, "In Him was life, and the life was the light of men," a life which our first parents forfeited and lost on the day of their transgression. "It was undoubtedly in the light of this pure influence that Adam had such an intuitive discerning of the creation, as enabled him to give names to all creatures according to their several natures."—Phipps, on Man, p. 4. A lapse from all this favour, into conscious guilt and misery; a knowledge of good withdrawn, and of evil made too sure; followed the first transgression. Abandoned then in great measure by superhuman aid, and left to contend with foes without and foes within, mankind became what history and observation prove them to have been; and henceforth, by painful experience, and careful research, and cautious faith, and humble docility, must they gather the fruits of knowledge; by a vain desire and false conceit of which, they had forfeited the tree of life. So runs the story

"Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our wo, With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat."

13. The analogy of words in the different languages now known, has been thought by many to be sufficiently frequent and clear to suggest the idea of their common origin. Their differences are indeed great; but perhaps not greater, than the differences in the several races of men, all of whom, as revelation teaches, sprung from one common stock. From the same source we learn, that, till the year of the world 1844, "The whole earth was of one language, and of one speech."—Gen., xi, 1.[22] At that period, the whole world of mankind consisted only of the descendants of the eight souls who had been saved in the ark, and so many of the eight as had survived the flood one hundred and eighty-eight years. Then occurred that remarkable intervention of the Deity, in which he was pleased to confound their language; so that they could not understand one an other's speech, and were consequently scattered abroad upon the face of the earth. This, however, in the opinion of many learned men, does not prove the immediate formation of any new languages.

14. But, whether new languages were thus immediately formed or not, the event, in all probability, laid the foundation for that diversity which subsequently obtained among the languages of the different nations which sprung from the dispersion; and hence it may be regarded as the remote cause of the differences which now exist. But for the immediate origin of the peculiar characteristical differences which distinguish the various languages now known, we are not able with much certainty to account. Nor is there even much plausibility in the speculations of those grammarians who have attempted to explain the order and manner in which the declensions, the moods, the tenses, or other leading features of the languages, were first introduced. They came into use before they could be generally known, and the partial introduction of them could seldom with propriety be made a subject of instruction or record, even if there were letters and learning at hand to do them this honour. And it is better to be content with ignorance, than to form such conjectures as imply any thing that is absurd or impossible. For instance: Neilson's Theory of the Moods, published in the Classical Journal of 1819, though it exhibits ingenuity and learning, is liable to this strong objection; that it proceeds on the supposition, that the moods of English verbs, and of several other derivative tongues, were invented in a certain order by persons, not speaking a language learned chiefly from their fathers, but uttering a new one as necessity prompted. But when or where, since the building of Babel, has this ever happened? That no dates are given, or places mentioned, the reader regrets, but he cannot marvel.

15. By what successive changes, our words in general, and especially the minor parts of speech, have become what we now find them, and what is their original and proper signification according to their derivation, the etymologist may often show to our entire satisfaction. Every word must have had its particular origin and history; and he who in such things can explain with certainty what is not commonly known, may do some service to science. But even here the utility of his curious inquiries may be overrated; and whenever, for the sake of some favourite theory, he ventures into the regions of conjecture, or allows himself to be seduced from the path of practical instruction, his errors are obstinate, and his guidance is peculiarly deceptive. Men fond of such speculations, and able to support them with some show of learning, have done more to unsettle the science of grammar, and to divert ingenious teachers from the best methods of instruction, than all other visionaries put together. Etymological inquiries are important, and I do not mean to censure or discourage them, merely as such; but the folly of supposing that in our language words must needs be of the same class, or part of speech, as that to which they may be traced in an other, deserves to be rebuked. The words the and an may be articles in English, though obviously traceable to something else in Saxon; and a learned man may, in my opinion, be better employed, than in contending that if, though, and although, are not conjunctions, but verbs!

16. Language is either oral or written; the question of its origin has consequently two parts. Having suggested what seemed necessary respecting the origin of speech, I now proceed to that of writing. Sheridan says, "We have in use two kinds of language, the spoken and the written: the one, the gift of God; the other, the invention of man."—Elocution, p. xiv. If this ascription of the two things to their sources, were as just as it is clear and emphatical, both parts of our question would seem to be resolved. But this great rhetorician either forgot his own doctrine, or did not mean what he here says. For he afterwards makes the former kind of language as much a work of art, as any one will suppose the latter to have been. In his sixth lecture, he comments on the gift of speech thus: "But still we are to observe, that nature did no more than furnish the power and means; she did not give the language, as in the case of the passions, but left it to the industry of men, to find out and agree upon such articulate sounds, as they should choose to make the symbols of their ideas."—Ib., p. 147. He even goes farther, and supposes certain tones of the voice to be things invented by man: "Accordingly, as she did not furnish the words, which were to be the symbols of his ideas; neither did she furnish the tones, which were to manifest, and communicate by their own virtue, the internal exertions and emotions, of such of his nobler faculties, as chiefly distinguish him from the brute species; but left them also, like words, to the care and invention of man."—Ibidem. On this branch of the subject, enough has already been presented.

17. By most authors, alphabetic writing is not only considered an artificial invention, but supposed to have been wholly unknown in the early ages of the world. Its antiquity, however, is great. Of this art, in which the science of grammar originated, we are not able to trace the commencement. Different nations have claimed the honour of the invention; and it is not decided, among the learned, to whom, or to what country, it belongs. It probably originated in Egypt. For, "The Egyptians," it is said, "paid divine honours to the Inventor of Letters, whom they called Theuth: and Socrates, when he speaks of him, considers him as a god, or a god-like man."—British Gram., p. 32. Charles Bucke has it, "That the first inventor of letters is supposed to have been Memnon; who was, in consequence, fabled to be the son of Aurora, goddess of the morning."—Bucke's Classical Gram., p. 5. The ancients in general seem to have thought Phoenicia the birthplace of Letters:

"Phoenicians first, if ancient fame be true, The sacred mystery of letters knew; They first, by sound, in various lines design'd, Express'd the meaning of the thinking mind; The power of words by figures rude conveyed, And useful science everlasting made." Rowe's Lucan, B. iii, l. 334.

18. Some, however, seem willing to think writing coeval with speech. Thus Bicknell, from Martin's Physico-Grammatical Essay: "We are told by Moses, that Adam gave names to every living creature;[23] but how those names were written, or what sort of characters he made use of, is not known to us; nor indeed whether Adam ever made use of a written language at all; since we find no mention made of any in the sacred history."—Bicknell's Gram., Part ii, p. 5. A certain late writer on English grammar, with admirable flippancy, cuts this matter short, as follows,—satisfying himself with pronouncing all speech to be natural, and all writing artificial: "Of how many primary kinds is language? It is of two kinds; natural or spoken, and artificial or written."—Oliver B. Peirce's Gram., p. 15. "Natural language is, to a limited extent, (the representation of the passions,) common to brutes as well as man; but artificial language, being the work of invention, is peculiar to man."—Ib., p. 16.[24]

19. The writings delivered to the Israelites by Moses, are more ancient than any others now known. In the thirty-first chapter of Exodus, it is said, that God "gave unto Moses, upon Mount Sinai, two tables of testimony, tables of stone, written with the finger of God." And again, in the thirty-second: "The tables were the work of God, and the writing was the writing of God, graven upon the tables." But these divine testimonies, thus miraculously written, do not appear to have been the first writing; for Moses had been previously commanded to write an account of the victory over Amalek, "for a memorial in a book, and rehearse it in the ears of Joshua."—Exod., xvii, 14. This first battle of the Israelites occurred in Rephidim, a place on the east side of the western gulf of the Red Sea, at or near Horeb, but before they came to Sinai, upon the top of which, (on the fiftieth day after their departure from Egypt,) Moses received the ten commandments of the law.

20. Some authors, however, among whom is Dr. Adam Clarke, suppose that in this instance the order of the events is not to be inferred from the order of the record, or that there is room to doubt whether the use of letters was here intended; and that there consequently remains a strong probability, that the sacred Decalogue, which God himself delivered to Moses on Sinai, A. M. 2513, B. C. 1491, was "the first writing in alphabetical characters ever exhibited to the world." See Clarke's Succession of Sacred Literature, Vol. i, p. 24. Dr. Scott, in his General Preface to the Bible, seems likewise to favour the same opinion. "Indeed," says he, "there is some probability in the opinion, that the art of writing was first communicated by revelation, to Moses, in order to perpetuate, with certainty, those facts, truths, and laws, which he was employed to deliver to Israel. Learned men find no traces of literary, or alphabetical, writing, in the history of the nations, till long after the days of Moses; unless the book of Job may be regarded as an exception. The art of expressing almost an infinite variety of sounds, by the interchanges of a few letters, or marks, seems more like a discovery to man from heaven, than a human invention; and its beneficial effects, and almost absolute necessity, for the preservation and communication of true religion, favour the conjecture."—Scott's Preface, p. xiv.

21. The time at which Cadmus, the Phoenician, introduced this art into Greece, cannot be precisely ascertained. There is no reason to believe it was antecedent to the time of Moses; some chronologists make it between two and three centuries later. Nor is it very probable, that Cadmus invented the sixteen letters of which he is said to have made use. His whole story is so wild a fable, that nothing certain can be inferred from it. Searching in vain for his stolen sister—his sister Europa, carried off by Jupiter—he found a wife in the daughter of Venus! Sowing the teeth of a dragon, which had devoured his companions, he saw them spring up to his aid a squadron of armed soldiers! In short, after a series of wonderful achievements and bitter misfortunes, loaded with grief and infirm with age, he prayed the gods to release him from the burden of such a life; and, in pity from above, both he and his beloved Hermione were changed into serpents! History, however, has made him generous amends, by ascribing to him the invention of letters, and accounting him the worthy benefactor to whom the world owes all the benefits derived from literature. I would not willingly rob him of this honour. But I must confess, there is no feature of the story, which I can conceive to give any countenance to his claim; except that as the great progenitor of the race of authors, his sufferings correspond well with the calamities of which that unfortunate generation have always so largely partaken.

22. The benefits of this invention, if it may be considered an invention, are certainly very great. In oral discourse the graces of elegance are more lively and attractive, but well-written books are the grand instructors of mankind, the most enduring monuments of human greatness, and the proudest achievements of human intellect. "The chief glory of a nation," says Dr. Johnson, "arises from its authors." Literature is important, because it is subservient to all objects, even those of the very highest concern. Religion and morality, liberty and government, fame and happiness, are alike interested in the cause of letters. It was a saying of Pope Pius the Second, that, "Common men should esteem learning as silver, noblemen value it as gold, and princes prize it as jewels." The uses of learning are seen in every thing that is not itself useless.[25] It cannot be overrated, but where it is perverted; and whenever that occurs, the remedy is to be sought by opposing learning to learning, till the truth is manifest, and that which is reprehensible, is made to appear so.

23. I have said, learning cannot be overrated, but where it is perverted. But men may differ in their notions of what learning is; and, consequently, of what is, or is not, a perversion of it. And so far as this point may have reference to theology, and the things of God, it would seem that the Spirit of God alone can fully show us its bearings. If the illumination of the Spirit is necessary to an understanding and a reception of scriptural truth, is it not by an inference more erudite than reasonable, that some great men have presumed to limit to a verbal medium the communications of Him who is everywhere His own witness, and who still gives to His own holy oracles all their peculiar significance and authority? Some seem to think the Almighty has never given to men any notion of Himself, except by words. "Many ideas," says the celebrated Edmund Burke, "have never been at all presented to the senses of any men but by words, as God,[26] angels, devils, heaven, and hell, all of which have however a great influence over the passions."—On the Sublime and [the] Beautiful, p. 97. That God can never reveal facts or truths except by words, is a position with which I am by no means satisfied. Of the great truths of Christianity, Dr. Wayland, in his Elements of Moral Science, repeatedly avers, "All these being facts, can never be known, except by language, that is, by revelation."—First Edition, p. 132. Again: "All of them being of the nature of facts, they could be made known to man in no other way than by language."—Ib., p. 136. But it should be remembered, that these same facts were otherwise made known to the prophets; (1 Pet., i, 11;) and that which has been done, is not impossible, whether there is reason to expect it again or not. So of the Bible, Calvin says, "No man can have the least knowledge of true and sound doctrine, without having been a disciple of the Scripture."— Institutes, B. i, Ch. 6. Had Adam, Abel, Enoch, Noah, and Abraham, then, no such knowledge? And if such they had, what Scripture taught them? We ought to value the Scriptures too highly to say of them any thing that is unscriptural. I am, however, very far from supposing there is any other doctrine which can be safely substituted for the truths revealed of old, the truths contained in the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments:

"Left only in those written records pure, Though not but by the Spirit understood." [27]—Milton.



CHAPTER V.

OF THE POWER OF LANGUAGE.

"Quis huic studio literarum, quod profitentur ii, qui grammatici vocantur, penitus se dedidit, quin omnem illarum artium paene infinitam vim et materiam scientiae cogitatione comprehenderit?"—CICERO. De Oratore, Lib. i, 3.

1. The peculiar power of language is another point worthy of particular consideration. The power of an instrument is virtually the power of him who wields it; and, as language is used in common, by the wise and the foolish, the mighty and the impotent, the candid and the crafty, the righteous and the wicked, it may perhaps seem to the reader a difficult matter, to speak intelligibly of its peculiar power. I mean, by this phrase, its fitness or efficiency to or for the accomplishment of the purposes for which it is used. As it is the nature of an agent, to be the doer of something, so it is the nature of an instrument, to be that with which something is effected. To make signs, is to do something, and, like all other actions, necessarily implies an agent; so all signs, being things by means of which other things are represented, are obviously the instruments of such representation. Words, then, which represent thoughts, are things in themselves; but, as signs, they are relative to other things, as being the instruments of their communication or preservation. They are relative also to him who utters them, as well as to those who may happen to be instructed or deceived by them. "Was it Mirabeau, Mr. President, or what other master of the human passions, who has told us that words are things? They are indeed things, and things of mighty influence, not only in addresses to the passions and high-wrought feelings of mankind, but in the discussion of legal and political questions also; because a just conclusion is often avoided, or a false one reached, by the adroit substitution of one phrase or one word for an other."—Daniel Webster, in Congress, 1833.

2. To speak, is a moral action, the quality of which depends upon the motive, and for which we are strictly accountable. "But I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgement; for by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned."—Matt., xii, 36, 37. To listen, or to refuse to listen, is a moral action also; and there is meaning in the injunction, "Take heed what ye hear."—Mark, iv, 24. But why is it, that so much of what is spoken or written, is spoken or written in vain? Is language impotent? It is sometimes employed for purposes with respect to which it is utterly so; and often they that use it, know not how insignificant, absurd, or ill-meaning a thing they make of it. What is said, with whatever inherent force or dignity, has neither power nor value to him who does not understand it;[28] and, as Professor Duncan observes, "No word can be to any man the sign of an idea, till that idea comes to have a real existence in his mind."—Logic, p. 62. In instruction, therefore, speech ought not to be regarded as the foundation or the essence of knowledge, but as the sign of it; for knowledge has its origin in the power of sensation, or reflection, or consciousness, and not in that of recording or communicating thought. Dr. Spurzheim was not the first to suggest, "It is time to abandon the immense error of supposing that words and precepts are sufficient to call internal feelings and intellectual faculties into active exercise."—Spurzheim's Treatise on Education, p. 94.

3. But to this it may be replied, When God wills, the signs of knowledge are knowledge; and words, when he gives the ability to understand them, may, in some sense, become—"spirit and life." See John, vi, 63. Where competent intellectual faculties exist, the intelligible signs of thought do move the mind to think; and to think sometimes with deep feelings too, whether of assent or dissent, of admiration or contempt. So wonderful a thing is a rational soul, that it is hard to say to what ends the language in which it speaks, may, or may not, be sufficient. Let experience determine. We are often unable to excite in others the sentiments which we would: words succeed or fail, as they are received or resisted. But let a scornful expression be addressed to a passionate man, will not the words "call internal feelings" into action? And how do feelings differ from thoughts?[29] Hear Dr. James Rush: "The human mind is the place of representation of all the existences of nature which are brought within the scope of the senses. The representatives are called ideas. These ideas are the simple passive pictures of things, or [else] they exist with an activity, capable of so affecting the physical organs as to induce us to seek the continuance of that which produces them, or to avoid it. This active or vivid class of ideas comprehends the passions. The functions of the mind here described, exist then in different forms and degrees, from the simple idea, to the highest energy of passion: and the terms, thought, sentiment, emotion, feeling, and passion, are but the verbal signs of these degrees and forms. Nor does there appear to be any line of classification, for separating thought from passion: since simple thoughts, without changing their nature, do, from interest or incitement, often assume the colour of passion."—Philosophy of the Human Voice, p. 328.

4. Lord Kames, in the Appendix to his Elements of Criticism, divides the senses into external and internal, defining perception to be the act by which through the former we know outward objects, and consciousness the act by which through the latter we know what is within the mind. An idea, according to his definition, (which he says is precise and accurate,) is, "That perception of a real object which is raised in the mind by the power of memory." But among the real objects from which memory may raise ideas, he includes the workings of the mind itself, or whatever we remember of our former passions, emotions, thoughts, or designs. Such a definition, he imagines, might have saved Locke, Berkley, and their followers, from much vain speculation; for with the ideal systems of these philosophers, or with those of Aristotle and Des Cartes, he by no means coincides. This author says, "As ideas are the chief materials employed in reasoning and reflecting, it is of consequence that their nature and differences be understood. It appears now that ideas may be distinguished into three kinds: first, Ideas derived from original perceptions, properly termed ideas of memory; second, Ideas communicated by language or other signs; and third, Ideas of imagination. These ideas differ from each other in many respects; but chiefly in respect to their proceeding from different causes. The first kind is derived from real existences that have been objects of our senses; language is the cause of the second, or any other sign that has the same power with language; and a man's imagination is to himself the cause of the third. It is scarce [ly] necessary to add, that an idea, originally of imagination, being conveyed to others by language or any other vehicle, becomes in their mind an idea of the second kind; and again, that an idea of this kind, being afterwards recalled to the mind, becomes in that circumstance an idea of memory."—El. of Crit., Vol. ii, p. 384.