<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1><small><small>THE<br/><br/></small></small> <big>VERBALIST:</big></h1>
<p class="czerop1"><i><big><big>A MANUAL</big></big></i></p>
<p class="czerop1"><small><small>DEVOTED</small></small></p>
<p class="czerop1">TO BRIEF DISCUSSIONS OF THE RIGHT AND THE<br/>
WRONG USE OF WORDS</p>
<p class="czerop1"><small><small>AND</small></small></p>
<p class="czerop2">TO SOME OTHER MATTERS OF INTEREST TO THOSE WHO<br/>
WOULD SPEAK AND WRITE WITH PROPRIETY.</p>
<p class="czerop3"><small>BY</small></p>
<h2>ALFRED AYRES.</h2>
<p> </p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>We remain shackled by timidity till we have learned to speak with
propriety.—<span class="smcap">Johnson</span>.</p>
<p>As a man is known by his company, so a man's company may be
known by his manner of expressing himself.—<span class="smcap">Swift</span>.</p>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/001.png" width-obs="100" height-obs="98" alt="" title="" /></div>
<p class="center"> <br/>NEW YORK:<br/>
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,<br/>
<small>1, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET.</small><br/>
1887.<br/></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<p class="center"><small>COPYRIGHT BY</small><br/>
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,<br/>
<small>1881</small></p>
<div class="trans1"><p class="trnhd">Transcriber's Note</p>
<p>Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Archaic spellings have been retained as printed.</p>
<p>All Greek words have mouse-hover transliterations, <span title="genomenos">γενόμενος</span>, and appear as printed in the original publication.</p>
</div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></SPAN></span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="PREFATORY_NOTE" id="PREFATORY_NOTE"></SPAN>PREFATORY NOTE.</h2>
<p>The title-page sufficiently sets forth the end
this little book is intended to serve.</p>
<p>For convenience' sake I have arranged in
alphabetical order the subjects treated of, and
for economy's sake I have kept in mind that
"he that uses many words for the explaining of
any subject doth, like the cuttle-fish, hide himself
in his own ink."</p>
<p>The curious inquirer who sets himself to
look for the learning in the book is advised
that he will best find it in such works as George
P. Marsh's "Lectures on the English Language,"
Fitzedward Hall's "Recent Exemplifications
of False Philology," and "Modern English,"
Richard Grant White's "Words and Their
Uses," Edward S. Gould's "Good English,"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></SPAN></span>
William Mathews' "Words: their Use and
Abuse," Dean Alford's "The Queen's English,"
George Washington Moon's "Bad English,"
and "The Dean's English," Blank's
"Vulgarisms and Other Errors of Speech,"
Alexander Bain's "English Composition and
Rhetoric," Bain's "Higher English Grammar,"
Bain's "Composition Grammar," Quackenbos'
"Composition and Rhetoric," John Nichol's
"English Composition," William Cobbett's
"English Grammar," Peter Bullions' "English
Grammar," Goold Brown's "Grammar of English
Grammars," Graham's "English Synonymes,"
Crabb's "English Synonymes," Bigelow's
"Handbook of Punctuation," and other
kindred works.</p>
<p>Suggestions and criticisms are solicited, with
the view of profiting by them in future editions.</p>
<p>If "The Verbalist" receive as kindly a welcome
as its companion volume, "The Orthoëpist,"
has received, I shall be content.</p>
<p class="author">A. A.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">New York</span>, <i>October</i>, 1881.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></SPAN></span></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>Eschew fine words as you would rouge.—<span class="smcap">Hare.</span></p>
<p>Cant is properly a double-distilled lie; the second
power of a lie.—<span class="smcap">Carlyle.</span></p>
<p>If a gentleman be to study any language, it ought to be
that of his own country.—<span class="smcap">Locke.</span></p>
<p>In language the unknown is generally taken for the
magnificent.—<span class="smcap">Richard Grant White.</span></p>
<p>He who has a superlative for everything, wants a measure
for the great or small.—<span class="smcap">Lavater.</span></p>
<p>Inaccurate writing is generally the expression of inaccurate
thinking.—<span class="smcap">Richard Grant White</span>.</p>
<p>To acquire a few tongues is the labor of a few years; but
to be eloquent in one is the labor of a life.—<span class="smcap">Anonymous</span>.</p>
<p>Words and thoughts are so inseparably connected that
an artist in words is necessarily an artist in thoughts.-<span class="smcap">Wilson
Flagg</span>.</p>
<p>It is an invariable maxim that words which add nothing
to the sense or to the clearness must diminish the force of
the expression.—<span class="smcap">Campbell</span>.</p>
<p>Propriety of thought and propriety of diction are commonly
found together. Obscurity of expression generally
springs from confusion of ideas.—<span class="smcap">Macaulay.</span></p>
<p>He who writes badly thinks badly. Confusedness in
words can proceed from nothing but confusedness in the
thoughts which give rise to them.—<span class="smcap">Cobbett</span>.</p>
</div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></SPAN></span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_VERBALIST" id="THE_VERBALIST"></SPAN>THE VERBALIST.</h2>
<p><b>A—An.</b> The second form of the indefinite article is
used for the sake of euphony only. Herein everybody
agrees, but what everybody does not agree in is, that it is
euphonious to use <i>an</i> before a word beginning with an aspirated
<i>h</i>, when the accented syllable of the word is the
second. For myself, so long as I continue to aspirate the
<i>h's</i> in such words as <i>heroic</i>, <i>harangue</i>, and <i>historical</i>, I shall
continue to use <i>a</i> before them; and when I adopt the Cockney
mode of pronouncing such words, then I shall use <i>an</i>
before them. To my ear it is just as euphonious to say, "I
will crop off from the top of his young twigs a tender one,
and will plant it upon <i>an</i> high mountain and eminent," as it
is to say <i>an</i> harangue, <i>an</i> heroic, or <i>an</i> historical. <i>An</i> is
well enough before the doubtful British aspiration, but
before the distinct American aspiration it is wholly out of
place. The reply will perhaps be, "But these <i>h's</i> are silent;
the change of accent from the first syllable to the
second neutralizes their aspiration." However true this
may be in England, it is not at all true in America; hence
we Americans should use <i>a</i> and not <i>an</i> before such <i>h's</i> until
we decide to ape the Cockney mode of pronouncing
them.</p>
<p>Errors are not unfrequently made by omitting to repeat
the article in a sentence. It should always be repeated<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></SPAN></span>
when a noun or an adjective referring to a distinct thing
is introduced; take, for example, the sentence, "He has
a black and white horse." If two horses are meant, it
is clear that it should be, "He has a black and <i>a</i> white
horse." See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#The">The</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Ability" id="Ability"></SPAN>Ability—Capacity.</b> The distinctions between these
two words are not always observed by those who use them.
"<i>Capacity</i> is the power of receiving and retaining knowledge
with facility; <i>ability</i> is the power of applying knowledge
to practical purposes. Both these faculties are requisite
to form a great character: capacity to conceive, and
ability to execute designs. Capacity is shown in quickness
of apprehension. Ability supposes something done; something
by which the mental power is exercised in executing,
or performing, what has been perceived by the capacity."—Graham's
"English Synonymes."</p>
<p><b>Abortive.</b> An outlandish use of this word may be occasionally
met with, especially in the newspapers. "A
lad was yesterday caught in the act of <i>abortively</i> appropriating
a pair of shoes." That is abortive that is untimely,
that has not been borne its full time, that is immature.
We often hear <i>abortion</i> used in the sense of failure, but
never by those that study to express themselves in chaste
English.</p>
<p><b>Above.</b> There is little authority for using this word as
an adjective. Instead of, "the <i>above</i> statement," say, "the
<i>foregoing</i> statement." <i>Above</i> is also used very inelegantly
for <i>more than</i>; as, "above a mile," "above a thousand";
also, for <i>beyond</i>; as, "above his strength."</p>
<p><b>Accident.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Casualty">Casualty</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Accord.</b> "He [the Secretary of the Treasury] was
shown through the building, and the information he desired
was <i>accorded</i> him."—Reporters' English.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></SPAN></span></p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"The heroes prayed, and Pallas from the skies<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Accords</i> their vow."—Pope.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>The goddess of wisdom, when she granted the prayers
of her worshipers, may be said to have <i>accorded</i>; not so,
however, when the clerks of our Sub-Treasury answer the
inquiries of their chief.</p>
<p><b>Accuse.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Blame_it_on">Blame it on</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Acquaintance.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Friend">Friend</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Ad.</b> This abbreviation for the word <i>advertisement</i> is
very justly considered a gross vulgarism. It is doubtful
whether it is permissible under any circumstances.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Adapt" id="Adapt"></SPAN>Adapt—Dramatize.</b> In speaking and in writing of
stage matters, these words are often misused. To <i>adapt</i> a
play is to modify its construction with the view of improving
its form for representation. Plays translated from one
language into another are usually more or less <i>adapted</i>;
i. e., altered to suit the taste of the public before which the
translation is to be represented. To <i>dramatize</i> is to change
the form of a story from the narrative to the dramatic; i. e.,
to make a drama out of a story. In the first instance, the
product of the playwright's labor is called an <i>adaptation</i>;
in the second, a <i>dramatization</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Adjectives" id="Adjectives"></SPAN>Adjectives.</b> "Very often adjectives stand where adverbs
might be expected; as, 'drink <i>deep</i>,' 'this looks
<i>strange</i>,' 'standing <i>erect</i>.'</p>
<p>"We have also examples of one adjective qualifying another
adjective; as, '<i>wide</i> open,' '<i>red</i> hot,' 'the <i>pale</i> blue
sky.' Sometimes the corresponding adverb is used, but
with a different meaning; as, 'I found the way <i>easy</i>—<i>easily</i>';
'it appears <i>clear</i>—<i>clearly</i>.' Although there is a propriety in
the employment of the adjective in certain instances, yet
such forms as '<i>indifferent</i> well,' '<i>extreme</i> bad,' are grammatical
errors. 'He was interrogated <i>relative</i> to that circumstance,'<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></SPAN></span>
should be <i>relatively</i>, or <i>in relation to</i>. It is not
unusual to say, 'I would have done it <i>independent</i> of that
circumstance,' but <i>independently</i> is the proper construction.</p>
<p>"The employment of adjectives for adverbs is accounted
for by the following considerations:</p>
<p>"(1.) In the classical languages the neuter adjective may
be used as an adverb, and the analogy would appear to
have been extended to English.</p>
<p>"(2.) In the oldest English the adverb was regularly
formed from the adjective by adding 'e,' as 'soft, soft<i>e</i>,' and
the dropping of the 'e' left the adverb in the adjective
form; thus, '<i>clæne</i>,' adverb, became 'clean,' and appears in
the phrase '<i>clean</i> gone'; '<i>fæste</i>, fast,' 'to stick <i>fast</i>.' By a
false analogy, many adjectives that never formed adverbs
in <i>-e</i> were freely used as adverbs in the age of Elizabeth:
'Thou didst it <i>excellent</i>,' '<i>equal</i> (for <i>equally</i>) good,' '<i>excellent</i>
well.' This gives precedent for such errors as those mentioned
above.</p>
<p>"(3.) There are cases where the subject is qualified rather
than the verb, as with verbs of incomplete predication, 'being,'
'seeming,' 'arriving,' etc. In 'the matter seems <i>clear</i>,'
'clear' is part of the predicate of 'matter.' 'They arrived
<i>safe</i>': 'safe' does not qualify 'arrived,' but goes with it to
complete the predicate. So, 'he sat <i>silent</i>,' 'he stood <i>firm</i>.'
'It comes <i>beautiful</i>' and 'it comes <i>beautifully</i>' have different
meanings. This explanation applies especially to
the use of participles as adverbs, as in Southey's lines on
Lodore; the participial epithets applied there, although
appearing to modify 'came,' are really additional predications
about 'the water,' in elegantly shortened form. 'The
church stood <i>gleaming</i> through the trees': 'gleaming' is a
shortened predicate of 'church'; and the full form would
be, 'the church stood <i>and gleamed</i>.' The participle retains<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></SPAN></span>
its force as such, while acting the part of a coördinating
adjective, complement to 'stood'; 'stood gleaming' is little
more than 'gleamed.' The feeling of adverbial force
in 'gleaming' arises from the subordinate participial form
joined with a verb, 'stood,' that seems capable of predicating
by itself. '<i>Passing</i> strange' is elliptical: 'passing (surpassing)
<i>what is</i> strange.'"—Bain.</p>
<p>"The comparative adjectives <i>wiser</i>, <i>better</i>, <i>larger</i>, etc.,
and the contrasting adjectives <i>different</i>, <i>other</i>, etc., are often
so placed as to render the construction of the sentence awkward;
as, 'That is a much <i>better</i> statement of the case <i>than</i>
yours,' instead of, 'That statement of the case is much <i>better
than</i> yours'; 'Yours is a <i>larger</i> plot of ground <i>than</i>
John's,' instead of, 'Your plot of ground is <i>larger than</i>
John's'; 'This is a <i>different</i> course of proceeding <i>from</i>
what I expected,' instead of, 'This course of proceeding is
<i>different from</i> what I expected'; 'I could take no <i>other</i>
method of silencing him <i>than</i> the one I took,' instead of,
'I could take no method of silencing him <i>other than</i> the
one I took.'"—Gould's "Good English," p. 69.</p>
<p><b>Administer.</b> "Carson died from blows <i>administered</i>
by policeman Johnson."—"New York Times." If policeman
Johnson was as barbarous as is this use of the verb <i>to
administer</i>, it is to be hoped that he was hanged. Governments,
oaths, medicine, affairs—such as the affairs of the
state—are <i>administered</i>, but not blows: <i>they</i> are <i>dealt</i>.</p>
<p><b>Adopt.</b> This word is often used instead of <i>to decide
upon</i>, and of <i>to take</i>; thus, "The measures <i>adopted</i> [by
Parliament], as the result of this inquiry, will be productive
of good." Better, "The measures <i>decided upon</i>," etc. Instead
of, "What course shall you <i>adopt</i> to get your pay?"
say, "What course shall you <i>take</i>," etc. <i>Adopt</i> is properly
used in a sentence like this: "The course (or measures)<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></SPAN></span>
proposed by Mr. Blank was <i>adopted</i> by the committee."
That is, what was Blank's was <i>adopted</i> by the committee—a
correct use of the word, as <i>to adopt</i>, means, to assume as
one's own.</p>
<p><i>Adopt</i> is sometimes so misused that its meaning is inverted.
"Wanted to adopt," in the heading of advertisements,
not unfrequently is intended to mean that the advertiser
wishes to be <i>relieved</i> of the care of a child, not that he
wishes to <i>assume</i> the care of one.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Aggravate" id="Aggravate"></SPAN>Aggravate.</b> This word is often used when the speaker
means to provoke, irritate, or anger. Thus, "It <i>aggravates</i>
[provokes] me to be continually found fault with"; "He is
easily <i>aggravated</i> [irritated]." To <i>aggravate</i> means to make
worse, to heighten. We therefore very properly speak of
<i>aggravating</i> circumstances. To say of a person that he is
<i>aggravated</i> is as incorrect as to say that he is <i>palliated</i>.</p>
<p><b>Agriculturist.</b> This word is to be preferred to <i>agriculturalist</i>.
See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Conversationist">Conversationist</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Alike.</b> This word is often most bunglingly coupled
with <i>both</i>. Thus, "These bonnets are both alike," or, worse
still, if possible, "both just alike." This reminds one of
the story of Sam and Jem, who were very like each other,
especially Sam.</p>
<p><b>All.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Universal">Universal</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>All over.</b> "The disease spread <i>all over</i> the country."
It is more logical and more emphatic to say, "The disease
spread <i>over all</i> the country."</p>
<p><b>Allegory.</b> An elaborated metaphor is called an <i>allegory</i>;
both are figurative representations, the words used
signifying something beyond their literal meaning. Thus,
in the eightieth Psalm, the Jews are represented under the
symbol of a vine:</p>
<p>"Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt: thou hast<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></SPAN></span>
cast out the heathen, and planted it. Thou preparedst
room before it, and didst cause it to take deep root, and it
filled the land. The hills were covered with the shadow
of it, and the boughs thereof were like the goodly cedars.
She sent out her boughs unto the sea, and her branches unto
the river. Why hast thou then broken down her hedges,
so that all they which pass by the way do pluck her? The
boar out of the wood doth waste it, and the wild beast of
the field doth devour it."</p>
<p>An allegory is sometimes so extended that it makes a
volume; as in the case of Swift's "Tale of a Tub," Arbuthnot's
"John Bull," Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress," etc.
Fables and parables are short allegories.</p>
<p><b>Allow.</b> This word is frequently misused in the West
and South, where it is made to do service for <i>assert</i> or <i>to be
of opinion</i>. Thus, "He <i>allows</i> that he has the finest horse
in the country."</p>
<p><b>Allude.</b> The treatment this word has received is to be
specially regretted, as its misuse has well-nigh robbed it of
its true meaning, which is, to intimate delicately, to refer
to without mentioning directly. <i>Allude</i> is now very rarely
used in any other sense than that of to speak of, to mention,
to name, which is a long way from being its legitimate
signification. This degradation is doubtless a direct
outcome of untutored desire to be fine and to use big
words.</p>
<p><b>Alone.</b> This word is often improperly used for <i>only</i>.
That is <i>alone</i> which is unaccompanied; that is <i>only</i> of
which there is no other. "Virtue <i>alone</i> makes us happy,"
means that virtue unaided suffices to make us happy;
"Virtue <i>only</i> makes us happy," means that nothing else
can do it—that that, and that only (not alone), can do it.
"This means of communication is employed by man <i>alone</i>."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></SPAN></span>
Dr. Quackenbos should have written, "By man <i>only</i>". See
also <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Only">Only</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Amateur" id="Amateur"></SPAN>Amateur—Novice.</b> There is much confusion in the
use of these two words, although they are entirely distinct
from each other in meaning. An <i>amateur</i> is one versed in,
or a lover and practicer of, any particular pursuit, art, or
science, but <i>not</i> engaged in it professionally. A <i>novice</i> is
one who is new or inexperienced in any art or business—a
beginner, a tyro. A professional actor, then, who is new
and unskilled in his art, is a <i>novice</i> and not an <i>amateur</i>.
An amateur may be an artist of great experience and extraordinary
skill.</p>
<p><b>Ameliorate.</b> "The health of the Empress of Germany
is greatly <i>ameliorated</i>." Why not say <i>improved</i>?</p>
<p><b>Among.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Between">Between</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Amount of Perfection.</b> The observant reader of periodical
literature often notes forms of expression which are
perhaps best characterized by the word <i>bizarre</i>. Of these
queer locutions, <i>amount of perfection</i> is a very good example.
Mr. G. F. Watts, in the "Nineteenth Century," says,
"An <i>amount of perfection</i> has been reached which I was
by no means prepared for." What Mr. Watts meant to
say was, doubtless, that a <i>degree of excellence</i> had been
reached. There are not a few who, in their prepossession
for everything transatlantic, seem to be of opinion that the
English language is generally better written in England
than it is in America. Those who think so are counseled
to examine the diction of some of the most noted English
critics and essayists, beginning, if they will, with Matthew
Arnold.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="And" id="And"></SPAN>And.</b> Few vulgarisms are more common than the use
of <i>and</i> for <i>to</i>. Examples: "Come <i>and</i> see me before you
go"; "Try <i>and</i> do what you can for him"; "Go <i>and</i> see<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></SPAN></span>
your brother, if you can." In such sentences as these, the
proper particle to use is clearly <i>to</i> and not <i>and</i>.</p>
<p><i>And</i> is sometimes improperly used instead of <i>or</i>; thus,
"It is obvious that a language like the Greek <i>and</i> Latin"
(language?), etc., should be, "a language like the Greek <i>or
the</i> Latin" (language), etc. There is no such thing as a
Greek and Latin language.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Answer" id="Answer"></SPAN>Answer—Reply.</b> These two words should not be
used indiscriminately. An <i>answer</i> is given to a question;
a <i>reply</i>, to an assertion. When we are addressed, we <i>answer</i>;
when we are accused, we <i>reply</i>. We <i>answer</i> letters,
and <i>reply</i> to any arguments, statements, or accusations they
may contain. Crabb is in error in saying that <i>replies</i> "are
used in personal discourse only." <i>Replies</i>, as well as <i>answers</i>,
are written. We very properly write, "I have
now, I believe, <i>answered</i> all your questions and <i>replied</i> to
all your arguments." A <i>rejoinder</i> is made to a <i>reply</i>. "Who
goes there?" he cried; and, receiving no <i>answer</i>, he fired.
"The advocate <i>replied</i> to the charges made against his
client."</p>
<p><b>Anticipate.</b> Lovers of big words have a fondness for
making this verb do duty for <i>expect</i>. <i>Anticipate</i> is derived
from two Latin words meaning <i>before</i> and <i>to take</i>, and,
when properly used, means, to take beforehand; to go
before so as to preclude another; to get the start or ahead
of; to enjoy, possess, or suffer, in expectation; to foretaste.
It is, therefore, misused in such sentences as, "Her death
is hourly <i>anticipated</i>"; "By this means it is <i>anticipated</i> that
the time from Europe will be lessened two days."</p>
<p><b>Antithesis.</b> A phrase that opposes contraries is called
an <i>antithesis</i>.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"I see a chief who leads my chosen sons,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">All armed with points, <i>antitheses</i>, and puns."<br/></span>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></SPAN></span></div>
</div>
<p>The following are examples:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Though gentle, yet not dull;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Strong, without rage; without o'erflowing, full."<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Contrasted faults through all their manners reign;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Though poor, luxurious; though submissive, vain;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Though grave, yet trifling; zealous, yet untrue;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And e'en in penance planning sins anew."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>The following is an excellent example of <i>personification</i>
and <i>antithesis</i> combined:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Talent convinces; Genius but excites:<br/></span>
<span class="i0">That tasks the reason; this the soul delights.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Talent from sober judgment takes its birth,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And reconciles the pinion to the earth;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Genius unsettles with desires the mind,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Contented not till earth be left behind."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>In the following extract from Johnson's "Life of Pope,"
individual peculiarities are contrasted by means of antitheses:</p>
<p>"Of genius—that power which constitutes a poet; that
quality without which judgment is cold, and knowledge is
inert; that energy which collects, combines, amplifies, and
animates—the superiority must, with some hesitation, be
allowed to Dryden. It is not to be inferred that of this
poetical vigor Pope had only a little, because Dryden had
more; for every other writer, since Milton, must give place
to Pope; and even of Dryden it must be said that, if he
has brighter paragraphs, he has not better poems. Dryden's
performances were always hasty, either excited by some
external occasion or extorted by domestic necessity; he
composed without consideration and published without
correction. What his mind could supply at call or gather
in one excursion was all that he sought and all that he
gave. The dilatory caution of Pope enabled him to condense<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></SPAN></span>
his sentiments, to multiply his images, and to accumulate
all that study might produce or chance might
supply. If the flights of Dryden, therefore, are higher,
Pope continues longer on the wing. If of Dryden's fire
the blaze is brighter, of Pope's the heat is more regular
and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation, and
Pope never falls below it. Dryden is read with frequent
astonishment, and Pope with perpetual delight. Dryden's
page is a natural field, rising into inequalities, and diversified
by the varied exuberance of abundant vegetation;
Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by the scythe, and leveled
by the roller."</p>
<p>There are forms of antithesis in which the contrast is
only of a secondary kind.</p>
<p><b>Any.</b> This word is sometimes made to do service for
<i>at all</i>. We say properly, "She is not <i>any</i> better"; but we
can not properly say, "She does not see <i>any</i>," meaning that
she is blind.</p>
<p><b>Anybody else.</b> "Public School Teachers are informed
that <i>anybody else's</i> is correct."—"New York Times,"
Sunday, July 31, 1881. An English writer says: "In
such phrases as anybody else, and the like, <i>else</i> is often put
in the possessive case; as, 'anybody else's servant'; and
some grammarians defend this use of the possessive case,
arguing that <i>somebody else</i> is a compound noun." It is better
grammar and more euphonious to consider <i>else</i> as being
an adjective, and to form the possessive by adding the
apostrophe and <i>s</i> to the word that <i>else</i> qualifies; thus, anybody's
else, nobody's else, somebody's else.</p>
<p><b>Anyhow.</b> "An exceedingly vulgar phrase," says Professor
Mathews, in his "Words: Their Use and Abuse."
"Its use, <i>in any manner</i>, by one who professes to write
and speak the English tongue with purity, is unpardonable."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></SPAN></span>
Professor Mathews seems to have a special dislike for this
colloquialism. It is recognized by the lexicographers, and
I think is generally accounted, even by the careful, permissible
in conversation, though incompatible with dignified
diction.</p>
<p><b>Anxiety of Mind.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Equanimity_of_mind">Equanimity of Mind</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Apostrophe.</b> Turning from the person or persons to
whom a discourse is addressed and appealing to some
person or thing absent, constitutes what, in rhetoric, is
called the <i>apostrophe</i>. The following are some examples:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i6">"O gentle sleep,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And steep my senses in forgetfulness?"<br/></span>
<span class="i0">"Sail on, thou lone imperial bird<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of quenchless eye and tireless wing!"<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i4">"Help, angels, make assay!<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Bow, stubborn knees! and heart with strings of steel,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe:<br/></span>
<span class="i0">All may yet be well!"<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><b>Appear.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Seem">Seem</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Appreciate.</b> If any word in the language has cause
to complain of ill-treatment, this one has. <i>Appreciate</i>
means, to estimate <i>justly</i>—to set the <i>true</i> value on men
or things, their worth, beauty, or advantages of any sort
whatsoever. Thus, an overestimate is no more <i>appreciation</i>
than is an underestimate; hence it follows that such
expressions as, "I appreciate it, or her, or him, <i>highly</i>,"
can not be correct. We <i>value</i>, or <i>prize</i>, things highly, not
<i>appreciate</i> them highly. This word is also very improperly
made to do service for <i>rise</i>, or <i>increase</i>, in value; thus, "Land
<i>appreciates</i> rapidly in the West." Dr. L. T. Townsend<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></SPAN></span>
blunders in the use of <i>appreciate</i> in his "Art of Speech,"
vol. i, p. 142, thus: "The laws of harmony ... may allow
copiousness ... in parts of a discourse ... in order
that the condensation of other parts may be the <i>more highly
appreciated</i>."</p>
<p><b>Apprehend—Comprehend.</b> The English often use
the first of these two words where we use the second. Both
express an effort of the thinking faculty; but to <i>apprehend</i>
is simply to take an idea into the mind—it is the mind's
first effort—while to <i>comprehend</i> is <i>fully to understand</i>.
We are dull or quick of <i>apprehension</i>. Children <i>apprehend</i>
much that they do not <i>comprehend</i>. Trench says: "We
<i>apprehend</i> many truths which we do not <i>comprehend</i>."
"<i>Apprehend</i>," says Crabb, "expresses the weakest kind
of belief, the having [of] the least idea of the presence of
a thing."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Apt" id="Apt"></SPAN>Apt.</b> Often misused for <i>likely</i>, and sometimes for <i>liable</i>.
"What is he <i>apt</i> to be doing?" "Where shall I be <i>apt</i> to
find him?" "If properly directed, it will be <i>apt</i> to reach
me." In such sentences as these, <i>likely</i> is the proper word
to use. "If you go there, you will be <i>apt</i> to get into
trouble." Here either <i>likely</i> or <i>liable</i> is the proper word,
according to the thought the speaker would convey.</p>
<p><b>Arctics.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Rubbers">Rubbers</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Artist.</b> Of late years this word has been appropriated
by the members of so many crafts, that it has well-nigh
been despoiled of its meaning. Your cook, your barber,
your tailor, your boot-maker, and so on to satiety, are all
<i>artists</i>. Painters, sculptors, architects, actors, and singers,
nowadays, generally prefer being thus called, rather than
to be spoken of as <i>artists</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="As" id="As"></SPAN>As.</b> "Not <i>as</i> I know": read, "not <i>that</i> I know."
"This is not <i>as</i> good as the last": read, "not <i>so</i> good."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></SPAN></span>
"It may be complete <i>so</i> far as the specification is concerned":
correctly, "<i>as</i> far as."</p>
<p><i>As</i>, preceded by <i>such</i> or by <i>same</i>, has the force of a relative
applying to persons or to things. "He offered me the
<i>same</i> conditions <i>as</i> he offered you." "The same conditions
<i>that</i>" would be equally proper. See, also, <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Like">Like</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Ascribe.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Impute">Impute</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="At" id="At"></SPAN>At.</b> Things are sold <i>by</i>, not <i>at</i>, auction. "The scene
is more beautiful <i>at</i> night than by day": say, "<i>by</i> night."</p>
<p><b>At all.</b> "It is not strange, for my uncle is King of
Denmark." Had Shakespeare written, "It is not <i>at all</i>
strange," it is clear that his diction would have been much
less forcible. "I do not wish for any <i>at all</i>"; "I saw no
one <i>at all</i>"; "If he had any desire <i>at all</i> to see me, he
would come where I am." The <i>at all</i> in sentences like
these is superfluous. Yet there are instances in which
the phrase is certainly a very convenient one, and seems to
be unobjectionable. It is much used, and by good writers.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="At_best" id="At_best"></SPAN>At best.</b> Instead of <i>at best</i> and <i>at worst</i>, we should
say at <i>the</i> best and at <i>the</i> worst.</p>
<p><b>At last.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#At_length">At length</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>At least.</b> This adverbial phrase is often misplaced.
"'The Romans understood liberty <i>at least</i> as well as we.'
This must be interpreted to mean, 'The Romans understood
liberty <i>as well as we</i> understand liberty.' The intended
meaning is, 'that whatever things the Romans failed
to understand, they understood <i>liberty</i>.' To express this
meaning we might put it thus: 'The Romans understood
<i>at least</i> liberty as well as we <i>do</i>'; 'liberty, <i>at least</i>, the
Romans understood as well as we do.' 'A tear, <i>at least</i>, is
due to the unhappy'; '<i>at least</i> a tear is due to the unhappy';
'a tear is due <i>at least</i> to the unhappy'; 'a tear is
due to the unhappy <i>at least</i>'—all express different meanings.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></SPAN></span>
'This can not, <i>often at least</i>, be done'; 'this can not
be done <i>often, at least</i>.' (1. 'It often happens that this can
not be done.' 2. 'It does not often happen that this can
be done.') So, 'man is <i>always</i> capable of laughing'; 'man
is capable of laughing <i>always</i>.'"—Bain.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="At_length" id="At_length"></SPAN>At length.</b> This phrase is often used instead of <i>at last</i>.
"<i>At length</i> we managed to get away": read, "<i>at last</i>."
"<i>At length</i> we heard from him." To hear from any one <i>at
length</i> is to hear fully; i. e., in detail.</p>
<p><b>Authoress.</b> With regard to the use of this and certain
other words of like formation, Mr. Gould, in his "Good
English," says: "<i>Poet</i> means simply a person who writes
poetry; and <i>author</i>, in the sense under consideration, a
person who writes poetry or prose—not a <i>man</i> who writes,
but a <i>person</i> who writes. Nothing in either word indicates
sex; and everybody knows that the functions of both poets
and authors are common to both sexes. Hence, <i>authoress</i>
and <i>poetess</i> are superfluous. And they are superfluous, also,
in another respect—that they are very rarely used, indeed
they hardly <i>can</i> be used, independently of the <i>name</i> of the
writer, as Mrs., or Miss, or a female Christian name. They
are, besides, philological absurdities, because they are fabricated
on the false assumption that their primaries indicate
<i>men</i>. They are, moreover, liable to the charge of affectation
and prettiness, to say nothing of pedantic pretension to
accuracy.</p>
<p>"If the <i>ess</i> is to be permitted, there is no reason for excluding
it from <i>any</i> noun that indicates a person; and the
next editions of our dictionaries may be made complete by
the addition of <i>writress</i>, <i>officeress</i>, <i>manageress</i>, <i>superintendentess</i>,
<i>secretaryess</i>, <i>treasureress</i>, <i>walkeress</i>, <i>talkeress</i>, and so
on to the end of the vocabulary."</p>
<p><b>Avocation.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Vocation">Vocation</SPAN></span>.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Bad cold.</b> Inasmuch as colds are never <i>good</i>, why say
a <i>bad</i> cold? We may talk about <i>slight</i> colds and <i>severe</i>
colds, but not about <i>bad</i> colds.</p>
<p><b>Baggage.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Luggage">Luggage</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Balance" id="Balance"></SPAN>Balance.</b> This word is very frequently and very erroneously
used in the sense of <i>rest</i>, <i>remainder</i>. It properly
means <i>the excess of one thing over another</i>, and in this sense
and in no other should it be used. Hence it is improper
to talk about the <i>balance</i> of the edition, of the evening, of
the money, of the toasts, of the men, etc. In such cases
we should say the <i>rest</i> or the <i>remainder</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Barbarism" id="Barbarism"></SPAN>Barbarism.</b> Defined as an offense against good usage,
by the use of an improper word, i. e., a word that is antiquated
or improperly formed. <i>Preventative</i>, <i>enthuse</i>, <i>agriculturalist</i>,
<i>donate</i>, etc., are barbarisms. See also <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Solecism">Solecism</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Been to.</b> We not unfrequently hear a superfluous <i>to</i>
tacked to a sentence; thus, "Where have you been <i>to</i>?"</p>
<p><b>Beg.</b> We often see letters begin with the words, "I
<i>beg</i> to acknowledge the receipt of your favor," etc. We
should write, "I <i>beg leave</i> to acknowledge," etc. No one
would say, "I beg to tell you," instead of, "I beg <i>leave</i> to
tell you."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Begin" id="Begin"></SPAN>Begin—Commence.</b> These words have the same
meaning; careful speakers, however, generally prefer to
use the former. Indeed, there is rarely any good reason
for giving the preference to the latter. See also <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Commence">Commence</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Being built.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Is_being_built">Is being built</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Belongings.</b> An old idiomatic expression now coming
into use again.</p>
<p><b>Beside—Besides.</b> In the later unabridged editions
of Webster's dictionary we find the following remarks concerning
the use of these two words: "<i>Beside</i> and <i>besides</i>,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></SPAN></span>
whether used as prepositions or adverbs, have been considered
synonymous from an early period of our literature,
and have been freely interchanged by our best writers.
There is, however, a tendency in present usage to make
the following distinction between them: 1. That <i>beside</i> be
used only and always as a preposition, with the original
meaning <i>by the side of</i>; as, to sit <i>beside</i> a fountain; or
with the closely allied meaning <i>aside from</i>, or <i>out of</i>; as,
this is <i>beside</i> our present purpose: 'Paul, thou art <i>beside</i>
thyself.' The adverbial sense to be wholly transferred to
the cognate word. 2. That <i>besides</i>, as a preposition, take
the remaining sense, <i>in addition to</i>; as, <i>besides</i> all this;
<i>besides</i> the consideration here offered: 'There was a famine
in the land <i>besides</i> the first famine.' And that it also take
the adverbial sense of <i>moreover</i>, <i>beyond</i>, etc., which had
been divided between the words; as, <i>besides</i>, there are other
considerations which belong to this case."</p>
<p><b>Best.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#At_best">At best</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Between" id="Between"></SPAN>Between.</b> This word is often misused for <i>among</i>; thus,
"The word <i>fellow</i>, however much in use it may be <i>between</i>
men, sounds very objectionable from the lips of women."—"London
Queen." Should be, "<i>among</i> men." <i>Between</i> is
used in reference to two things, parties, or persons; <i>among</i>,
in reference to a greater number. "Castor and Pollux
with one soul <i>between</i> them." "You have <i>among</i> you
many a purchased slave."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Blame_it_on" id="Blame_it_on"></SPAN>Blame it on.</b> Here is a gross vulgarism which we
sometimes hear from persons of considerable culture. They
use it in the sense of <i>accuse</i> or <i>suspect</i>; thus, "He <i>blames
it on</i> his brother," meaning that he <i>accuses</i> or <i>suspects</i> his
brother of having done it, or of being at fault for it.</p>
<p><b>Bogus.</b> A colloquial term incompatible with dignified
diction.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Both.</b> We sometimes hear such absurd sentences as,
"They <i>both</i> resemble each other very much"; "They are
<i>both</i> alike"; "They <i>both</i> met in the street." <i>Both</i> is likewise
redundant in the following sentence: "It performs at
the same time the offices <i>both</i> of the nominative and objective
cases."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Bound" id="Bound"></SPAN>Bound.</b> The use of this word in the sense of <i>determined</i>
is not only inelegant but indefensible. "I am
<i>bound</i> to have it," should be, "I am <i>determined</i> to
have it."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Bravery" id="Bravery"></SPAN>Bravery—Courage.</b> The careless often use these two
words as though they were interchangeable. <i>Bravery</i> is
inborn, is instinctive; <i>courage</i> is the product of reason, calculation.
There is much merit in being courageous, little
merit in being brave. Men who are simply <i>brave</i> are careless,
while the courageous man is always cautious. <i>Bravery</i>
often degenerates into temerity. <i>Moral courage</i> is that
firmness of principle which enables a man to do what he
deems to be his duty, although his action may subject him
to adverse criticism. True <i>moral courage</i> is one of the
rarest and most admirable of virtues.</p>
<p>Alfred the Great, in resisting the attacks of the Danes,
displayed <i>bravery</i>; in entering their camp as a spy, he displayed
<i>courage</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Bring" id="Bring"></SPAN>Bring—Fetch—Carry.</b> The indiscriminate use of
these three words is very common. To <i>bring</i> is to convey
to or toward—a simple act; to <i>fetch</i> means to <i>go</i> and bring—a
compound act; to <i>carry</i> often implies motion from the
speaker, and is followed by <i>away</i> or <i>off</i>, and thus is opposed
to <i>bring</i> and <i>fetch</i>. Yet one hears such expressions as,
"Go to Mrs. D.'s and <i>bring</i> her this bundle; and here, you
may <i>fetch</i> her this book also." We use the words correctly
thus: "<i>Fetch</i>, or <i>go bring</i>, me an apple from the cellar";<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></SPAN></span>
"When you come home <i>bring</i> some lemons"; "<i>Carry</i> this
book home with you."</p>
<p><b>British against American English.</b> "The most important
peculiarity of American English is a laxity, irregularity,
and confusion in the use of particles. The same
thing is, indeed, observable in England, but not to the
same extent, though some gross departures from idiomatic
propriety, such as <i>different to</i> for <i>different from</i>, are common
in England, which none but very ignorant persons
would be guilty of in America.... In the tenses of the
verbs, I am inclined to think that well-educated Americans
conform more closely to grammatical propriety than the
corresponding class in England.... In general, I think
we may say that, in point of naked syntactical accuracy,
the English of America is not at all inferior to that of England;
but we do not discriminate so precisely in the meaning
of words, nor do we habitually, in either conversation
or in writing, express ourselves so gracefully, or employ so
classic a diction, as the English. Our taste in language is
less fastidious, and our licenses and inaccuracies are more
frequently of a character indicative of want of refinement
and elegant culture than those we hear in educated society
in England."—George P. Marsh.</p>
<p><b>British against American Orthoëpy.</b> "The causes
of the differences in pronunciation [between the English
and the Americans] are partly physical, and therefore difficult,
if not impossible, to resist; and partly owing to a difference
of circumstances. Of this latter class of influences,
the universality of reading in America is the most obvious
and important. The most marked difference is, perhaps, in
the length or prosodical quantity of the vowels; and both
of the causes I have mentioned concur to produce this
effect. We are said to drawl our words by protracting the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></SPAN></span>
vowels and giving them a more diphthongal sound than the
English. Now, an Englishman who reads will habitually
utter his vowels more fully and distinctly than his countryman
who does not; and, upon the same principle, a nation
of readers, like the Americans, will pronounce more deliberately
and clearly than a people so large a proportion of
whom are unable to read, as in England. From our universal
habit of reading, there results not only a greater distinctness
of articulation, but a strong tendency to assimilate
the spoken to the written language. Thus, Americans incline
to give to every syllable of a written word a distinct
enunciation; and the popular habit is to say <i>dic-tion-ar-y</i>,
<i>mil-it-ar-y</i>, with a secondary accent on the penultimate, instead
of sinking the third syllable, as is so common in England.
There is, no doubt, something disagreeably stiff in
an anxious and affected conformity to the very letter of orthography;
and to those accustomed to a more hurried utterance
we may seem to drawl, when we are only giving a
full expression to letters which, though etymologically important,
the English habitually slur over, sputtering out, as
a Swedish satirist says, one half of the word, and swallowing
the other. The tendency to make the long vowels
diphthongal is noticed by foreigners as a peculiarity of the
orthoëpy of our language; and this tendency will, of course,
be strengthened by any cause which produces greater slowness
and fullness of articulation. Besides the influence of
the habit of reading, there is some reason to think that climate
is affecting our articulation. In spite of the coldness
of our winters, our flora shows that the climate of even our
Northern States belongs, upon the whole, to a more southern
type than that of England. In southern latitudes, at
least within the temperate zone, articulation is generally
much more distinct than in the northern regions. Witness<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></SPAN></span>
the pronunciation of Spanish, Italian, Turkish, as compared
with English, Danish, and German. Participating, then, in
the physical influences of a southern climate, we have contracted
something of the more distinct articulation that belongs
to a dry atmosphere and a clear sky. And this view
of the case is confirmed by the fact that the inhabitants of
the Southern States incline, like the people of southern
Europe, to throw the accent toward the end of the word,
and thus, like all nations that use that accentuation, bring
out all the syllables. This we observe very commonly in
the comparative Northern and Southern pronunciation of
proper names. I might exemplify by citing familiar instances;
but, lest that should seem invidious, it may suffice
to say that, not to mention more important changes, many
a Northern member of Congress goes to Washington a
<i>dactyl</i> or a <i>trochee</i>, and comes home an <i>amphibrach</i> or an
<i>iambus</i>. Why or how external physical causes, as climate
and modes of life, should affect pronunciation, we can not
say; but it is evident that material influences of some sort
are producing a change in our bodily constitution, and we
are fast acquiring a distinct national Anglo-American type.
That the delicate organs of articulation should participate
in such tendencies is altogether natural; and the operation
of the causes which give rise to them is palpable even in
our handwriting, which, if not uniform with itself, is generally,
nevertheless, so unlike common English script as to
be readily distinguished from it.</p>
<p>"To the joint operation, then, of these two causes—universal
reading and climatic influences—we must ascribe
our habit of dwelling upon vowel and diphthongal sounds,
or of drawling, if that term is insisted upon.... But it is
often noticed by foreigners as both making us more readily
understood by them when speaking our own tongue, and as<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></SPAN></span>
connected with a flexibility of organ, which enables us to
acquire a better pronunciation of other languages than is
usual with Englishmen. In any case, as, in spite of the
old adage, speech is given us that we may make ourselves
understood, our drawling, however prolonged, is preferable
to the nauseous, foggy, mumbling thickness of articulation
which characterizes the cockney, and is not unfrequently
affected by Englishmen of a better class."—George P.
Marsh.</p>
<p><b>Bryant's Prohibited Words.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Index_expurgatorius">Index Expurgatorius</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>But.</b> This word is misused in various ways. "I do
not doubt <i>but</i> he will be here": read, doubt <i>that</i>. "I
should not wonder <i>but</i>": read, <i>if</i>. "I have no doubt <i>but</i>
that he will go": suppress <i>but</i>. "I do not doubt <i>but</i> that
it is true": suppress <i>but</i>. "There can be no doubt <i>but</i>
that the burglary is the work of professional cracksmen."—"New
York Herald." Doubt <i>that</i>, and not <i>but that</i>. "A
careful canvass leaves no doubt <i>but</i> that the nomination,"
etc.: suppress <i>but</i>. "There is no reasonable doubt <i>but</i>
that it is all it professes to be": suppress <i>but</i>. "The
mind no sooner entertains any proposition <i>but</i> it presently
hastens," etc.: read, <i>than</i>. "No other resource <i>but</i> this
was allowed him": read, <i>than</i>.</p>
<p><b>By.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#At">At</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Calculate.</b> This word means to ascertain by computation,
to reckon, to estimate; and, say some of the purists, it
never means anything else when properly used. <i>If this is
true</i>, we can not say a thing is <i>calculated</i> to do harm, but
must, if we are ambitious to have our English irreproachable,
choose some other form of expression, or at least some
other word, <i>likely</i> or <i>apt</i>, for example. Cobbett, however,
says, "That, to Her, whose great example is so well <i>calculated</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></SPAN></span>
to inspire," etc.; and, "The first two of the three
sentences are well enough <i>calculated</i> for ushering," etc.
<i>Calculate</i> is sometimes vulgarly used for <i>intend</i>, <i>purpose</i>,
<i>expect</i>; as, "He <i>calculates</i> to get off to-morrow."</p>
<p><b>Caliber.</b> This word is sometimes used very absurdly;
as, "Brown's Essays are of a much higher <i>caliber</i> than
Smith's." It is plain that the proper word to use here is
<i>order</i>.</p>
<p><b>Cant.</b> <i>Cant</i> is a kind of affectation; affectation is an
effort to sail under false colors; an effort to sail under false
colors is a kind of falsehood; and falsehood is a term of
Latin origin which we often use instead of the stronger
Saxon term <span class="smcap">lying</span>!</p>
<p>"Who is not familiar," writes Dr. William Matthews,
"with scores of pet phrases and cant terms which are repeated
at this day apparently without a thought of their
meaning? Who ever attended a missionary meeting
without hearing 'the Macedonian cry,' and an account of
some 'little interest' and 'fields white for the harvest'?
Who is not weary of the ding-dong of 'our Zion,' and the
solecism of 'in our midst'; and who does not long for a
verbal millennium when Christians shall no longer 'feel to
take' and 'grant to give'?"</p>
<p>"How much I regret," says Coleridge, "that so many
religious persons of the present day think it necessary to
adopt a certain cant of manner and phraseology [and of
tone of voice] as a token to each other [one another]!
They <i>improve</i> this and that text, and they must do so and
so in a prayerful way; and so on."</p>
<p><b>Capacity.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Ability">Ability</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Caption" id="Caption"></SPAN>Caption.</b> This word is often used for <i>heading</i>, but, thus
used, it is condemned by careful writers. The true meaning
of <i>caption</i> is a seizure, an arrest. It does not come from<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></SPAN></span>
a Latin word meaning <i>a head</i>, but from a Latin word meaning
<i>to seize</i>.</p>
<p><b>Caret.</b> Cobbett writes of the caret to his son: "The
last thing I shall mention under this head is the <i>caret</i> [^],
which is used to point upward to a part which has been
omitted, and which is inserted between the line where the
caret is placed and the line above it. Things should be called
by their right names, and this should be called the <i>blunder-mark</i>.
I would have you, my dear James, scorn the use of
the thing. <i>Think</i> before you write; let it be your custom
to <i>write correctly</i> and in <i>a plain hand</i>. Be careful that neatness,
grammar, and sense prevail when you write to a
blacksmith about shoeing a horse as when you write on the
most important subjects. Habit is powerful in all cases;
but its power in this case is truly wonderful. When you
write, bear constantly in mind that some one is to <i>read</i> and
to <i>understand</i> what you write. This will make your handwriting
and also your meaning <i>plain</i>. Far, I hope, from
my dear James will be the ridiculous, the contemptible
affectation of writing in a slovenly or illegible hand, or that
of signing his name otherwise than in plain letters."</p>
<p><b>Carry.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Bring">Bring</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Case.</b> Many persons of considerable culture continually
make mistakes in conversation in the use of the cases,
and we sometimes meet with gross errors of this kind in
the writings of authors of repute. Witness the following:
"And everybody is to know him except <i>I</i>."—George Merideth
in "The Tragic Comedies," Eng. ed., vol. i, p. 33.
"Let's you and <i>I</i> go": say, <i>me</i>. We can not say, Let <i>I</i>
go. Properly, Let's go, i. e., let us go, or, let you and <i>me</i>
go. "He is as good as <i>me</i>": say, as <i>I</i>. "She is as tall as
<i>him</i>": say, as <i>he</i>. "You are older than <i>me</i>": say, than <i>I</i>.
"Nobody said so but <i>he</i>": say, but <i>him</i>. "Every one can<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></SPAN></span>
master a grief but <i>he</i> that hath it": correctly, but <i>him</i>.
"John went out with James and <i>I</i>": say, and <i>me</i>. "You
are stronger than <i>him</i>": say, than <i>he</i>. "Between you
and <i>I</i>": say, and <i>me</i>. "Between you and <i>they</i>": say,
and <i>them</i>. "He gave it to John and <i>I</i>": say, and <i>me</i>.
"You told John and <i>I</i>": say, and <i>me</i>. "He sat between
him and <i>I</i>": say, and <i>me</i>. "He expects to see
you and <i>I</i>": say, and <i>me</i>. "You were a dunce to do
it. Who? <i>me</i>?" say, <i>I</i>. Supply the ellipsis, and we
should have, Who? <i>me</i> a dunce to do it? "Where are
you going? Who? <i>me</i>?" say, <i>I</i>. We can't say, <i>me</i> going.
"<i>Who</i> do you mean?" say, <i>whom</i>. "Was it <i>them</i>?" say,
<i>they</i>. "If I <i>was him</i>, I would do it": say, <i>were he</i>. "If
I <i>was her</i>, I would not go": say, <i>were she</i>. "Was it <i>him</i>?"
say, <i>he</i>. "Was it <i>her</i>?" say, <i>she</i>. "For the benefit of those
<i>whom</i> he thought were his friends": say, <i>who</i>. This error
is not easy to detect on account of the parenthetical words
that follow it. If we drop them, the mistake is very apparent;
thus, "For the benefit of those <i>whom</i> were his
friends."</p>
<p>"On the supposition," says Bain, "that the interrogative
<i>who</i> has <i>whom</i> for its objective, the following are errors:
'<i>who</i> do you take me to be?' '<i>who</i> should I meet
the other day?' '<i>who</i> is it by?' '<i>who</i> did you give it to?'
'<i>who</i> to?' '<i>who</i> for?' But, considering that these expressions
<i>occur with the best writers and speakers</i>, that they <i>are
more energetic</i> than the other form, and that they <i>lead to
no ambiguity</i>, it may be doubted whether grammarians
have not exceeded their province in condemning them."</p>
<p>Cobbett, in writing of the pronouns, says: "When the
relatives are placed in the sentence at a distance from their
antecedents or verbs or prepositions, the ear gives us no
assistance. '<i>Who</i>, of all the men in the world, do you<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></SPAN></span>
think I <i>saw</i> to-day?' '<i>Who</i>, for the sake of numerous services,
the office was given to.' In both these cases it
should be <i>whom</i>. Bring the verb in the first and the preposition
in the second case closer to the relative, as, <i>who I
saw</i>, <i>to who the office was given</i>, and you see the error at
once. But take care! '<i>Whom</i>, of all the men in the world,
do you think, <i>was</i> chosen to be sent as an ambassador?'
'<i>Whom</i>, for the sake of his numerous services, <i>had</i> an
office of honor bestowed upon him.' These are nominative
cases, and ought to have <i>who</i>; that is to say, <i>who was
chosen</i>, <i>who had an office</i>."</p>
<p>"Most grammarians," says Dr. Bain, in his "Higher
English Grammar," "have laid down this rule: 'The verb <i>to
be</i> has the same case after as before it.' Macaulay censures
the following as a solecism: 'It was <i>him</i> that Horace Walpole
called a man who never made a bad figure but as an
author.' Thackeray similarly adverts to the same deviation
from the rule: '"Is that <i>him</i>?" said the lady in <i>questionable
grammar</i>.' But, notwithstanding this," continues Dr.
Bain, "we certainly hear in the actual speech of all classes
of society such expressions as 'it was <i>me</i>,' 'it was <i>him</i>,' 'it
was <i>her</i>,' more frequently than the prescribed form.<SPAN name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</SPAN> 'This
shy creature, my brother says, is <i>me</i>'; 'were it <i>me</i>, I'd show
him the difference.'—Clarissa Harlowe. 'It is not <i>me</i><SPAN name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</SPAN> you
are in love with.'—Addison. 'If there is one character
more base than another, it is <i>him</i> who,' etc.—Sydney Smith.
'If I were <i>him</i>'; 'if I had been <i>her</i>,' etc. The authority
of good writers is strong on the side of objective forms.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></SPAN></span>
There is also the analogy of the French language; for while
'I am here' is <i>je suis ici</i>, the answer to 'who is there?' is
<i>moi</i> (me); and <i>c'est moi</i> (it is <i>me</i>) is the legitimate phrase—never
<i>c'est je</i> (it is I)."</p>
<p>But <i>moi</i>, according to all French grammarians, is very
often in the nominative case. <i>Moi</i> is in the nominative
case when used in reply to "Who is there?" and also in
the phrase "C'est moi," which makes "It is <i>I</i>" the correct
translation of the phrase, and not "It is <i>me</i>." The French
equivalent of "I! I am here," is "Moi! je suis ici." The
Frenchman uses <i>moi</i> in the nominative case when <i>je</i> would
be inharmonious. Euphony with him is a matter of more
importance than grammatical correctness. Bescherelle
gives many examples of <i>moi</i> in the nominative. Here are
two of them: "Mon avocat et moi sommes de cet avis.
Qui veut aller avec lui? Moi." If we use such phraseology
as "It is <i>me</i>," we must do as the French do—consider <i>me</i>
as being in the nominative case, and offer <i>euphony</i> as our
reason for thus using it.</p>
<p>When shall we put nouns (or pronouns) preceding verbal,
or participial, nouns, as they are called by some grammarians—infinitives
in <i>ing</i>, as they are called by others—in the
possessive case?</p>
<p>"'I am surprised at <i>John's</i> (or <i>his</i>, <i>your</i>, etc.) <i>refusing</i>
to go.' 'I am surprised at <i>John</i> (or <i>him</i>, <i>you</i>, etc.) <i>refusing</i>
to go.' [In the latter sentence <i>refusing</i> is a participle.]
The latter construction is not so common with pronouns as
with nouns, especially with such nouns as do not readily
take the possessive form. 'They prevented <i>him going</i> forward':
better, 'They prevented <i>his going</i> forward.' 'He
was dismissed without any <i>reason being</i> assigned.' 'The
boy died through his <i>clothes being</i> burned.' 'We hear little
of any <i>connection being</i> kept up between the two nations.'<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></SPAN></span>
'The men rowed vigorously for fear of the <i>tide turning</i>
against us.' <i>But most examples of the construction without
the possessive form are</i> <span class="smcap">obviously due to mere slovenliness</span>....
'In case of <i>your being</i> absent': here <i>being</i> is
an infinitive [verbal, or participial, noun] qualified by the
possessive <i>your</i>. 'In case of <i>you being</i> present': here
<i>being</i> would have to be construed as a participle. <i>The possessive
construction is, in this case, the primitive and regular
construction</i>; <span class="smcap">the other is a mere lapse</span>. The
difficulty of adhering to the possessive form occurs when the
subject is not a person: 'It does not seem safe to rely on
the rule of <i>demand</i> creating supply': in strictness, '<i>Demand's</i>
creating supply.' 'A petition was presented
against the <i>license being</i> granted.' But for the awkwardness
of extending the possessive to impersonal subjects, it
would be right to say, 'against the <i>license's being</i> granted.'
'He had conducted the ball without any <i>complaint
being</i> urged against him.' The possessive would be suitable,
but undesirable and unnecessary."—Professor Alexander
Bain.</p>
<p>"Though the <i>ordinary</i> syntax of the possessive case is
sufficiently plain and easy, there is, perhaps, among all the
puzzling and disputable points of grammar, nothing more
difficult of decision than are some questions that occur respecting
the right management of this case. The observations
that have been made show that possessives before
participles are seldom to be approved. The following example
is manifestly inconsistent with itself; and, <i>in my
opinion, the three possessives are all wrong</i>: 'The kitchen,
too, now begins to give dreadful note of preparation;
not from <i>armorers</i> accomplishing the knights, but from the
<i>shopmaid's</i> chopping force-meat, the <i>apprentice's</i> cleaning
knives, and the <i>journeyman's</i> receiving a practical lesson in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></SPAN></span>
the art of waiting at table.' 'The daily instances of <i>men's</i>
dying around us.' Say rather, 'Of <i>men</i> dying around us.'
The leading word in sense ought not to be made the adjunct
in construction."—Goold Brown.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Casualty" id="Casualty"></SPAN>Casualty.</b> This word is often heard with the incorrect
addition of a syllable, <i>casuality</i>, which is not recognized
by the lexicographers. Some writers object to the word
casualty, and always use its synonym <i>accident</i>.</p>
<p><b>Celebrity.</b> "A number of <i>celebrities</i> witnessed the
first representation." This word is frequently used, especially
in the newspapers, as a concrete term; but it
would be better to use it in its abstract sense only,
and in sentences like the one above to say <i>distinguished
persons</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Character" id="Character"></SPAN>Character—Reputation.</b> These two words are not
synonyms, though often used as such. <i>Character</i> means
the sum of distinguishing qualities. "Actions, looks,
words, steps, form the alphabet by which you may spell
characters."—Lavater. <i>Reputation</i> means the estimation
in which one is held. One's reputation, then, is what is
thought of one's character; consequently, one may have a
good reputation and a bad character, or a good character
and a bad reputation. Calumny may injure <i>reputation</i>, but
not <i>character</i>. Sir Peter does not leave his <i>character</i> behind
him, but his <i>reputation</i>—his <i>good name</i>.</p>
<p><b>Cheap.</b> The dictionaries define this adjective as meaning,
bearing a low price, or to be had at a low price; but
nowadays good usage makes it mean that a thing may be
had, or has been sold, at a bargain. Hence, in order to
make sure of being understood, it is better to say <i>low-priced</i>,
when one means low-priced, than to use the word <i>cheap</i>.
What is low-priced, as everybody knows, is often <i>dear</i>, and
what is high-priced is often <i>cheap</i>. A diamond necklace<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></SPAN></span>
might be <i>cheap</i> at ten thousand dollars, and a pinchbeck
necklace dear at ten dollars.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Cherubim" id="Cherubim"></SPAN>Cherubim.</b> The Hebrew plural of <i>cherub</i>. "We are
authorized," says Dr. Campbell, "both by use and analogy,
to say either <i>cherubs</i> and <i>seraphs</i>, according to the English
idiom, or <i>cherubim</i> and <i>seraphim</i>, according to the Oriental.
The former suits better the familiar, the latter the solemn,
style. As the words <i>cherubim</i> and <i>seraphim</i> are plural, the
terms <i>cherubims</i> and <i>seraphims</i>, as expressing the plural, are
quite improper."—"Philosophy of Rhetoric."</p>
<p><b>Citizen.</b> This word properly means one who has certain
political rights; when, therefore, it is used, as it often
is, to designate persons who may be aliens, it, to say the
least, betrays a want of care in the selection of words.
"Several <i>citizens</i> were injured by the explosion." Here
some other word—<i>persons</i>, for example—should be used.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Clever" id="Clever"></SPAN>Clever.</b> In this country the word <i>clever</i> is most improperly
used in the sense of good-natured, well-disposed,
good-hearted. It is properly used in the sense in which
we are wont most inelegantly to use the word <i>smart</i>, though
it is a less colloquial term, and is of wider application. In
England the phrase "a <i>clever</i> man" is the equivalent of the
French phrase, "<i>un homme d'esprit</i>." The word is properly
used in the following sentences: "Every work of Archbishop
Whately must be an object of interest to the admirers
of <i>clever</i> reasoning"; "Cobbett's letter ... very
<i>clever</i>, but very mischievous"; "Bonaparte was certainly as
<i>clever</i> a man as ever lived."</p>
<p><b>Climax.</b> A clause, a sentence, a paragraph, or any literary
composition whatsoever, is said to end with a <i>climax</i>
when, by an artistic arrangement, the more effective is
made to follow the less effective in regular gradation.
Any great departure from the order of ascending strength<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></SPAN></span>
is called an <i>anti-climax</i>. Here are some examples of climax:</p>
<p>"Give all diligence; add to your faith, virtue; and to
virtue, knowledge; and to knowledge, temperance; and to
temperance, patience; and to patience, godliness; and to
godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness,
charity."</p>
<p>"What is every year of a wise man's life but a criticism
on the past! Those whose life is the shortest live long
enough to laugh at one half of it; the boy despises the infant,
the man the boy, the sage both, and the Christian
all."</p>
<p>"What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason!
how infinite in faculties! in form and moving, how express
and admirable! in action, how like an angel! in apprehension,
how like a god!"</p>
<p><b>Co.</b> The prefix <i>co</i> should be used only when the word
to which it is joined begins with a vowel, as in <i>co-eval</i>, <i>co-incident</i>,
<i>co-operate</i>, etc. <i>Con</i> is used when the word begins
with a consonant, as in <i>con-temporary</i>, <i>con-junction</i>, etc.
<i>Co-partner</i> is an exception to the rule.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Commence" id="Commence"></SPAN>Commence.</b> The Britons use or misuse this word in
a manner peculiar to themselves. They say, for example,
"commenced merchant," "commenced actor," "commenced
politician," and so on. Dr. Hall tells us that <i>commence</i> has
been employed in the sense of "begin to be," "become,"
"set up as," by first-class writers, for more than two centuries.
Careful speakers make small use of <i>commence</i> in any
sense; they prefer to use its Saxon equivalent, <i>begin</i>. See,
also, <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Begin">Begin</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Comparison.</b> When only two objects are compared,
the comparative and not the superlative degree should be
used; thus, "Mary is the <i>older</i> of the two"; "John is the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></SPAN></span>
<i>stronger</i> of the two"; "Brown is the <i>richer</i> of the two, and
the <i>richest</i> man in the city"; "Which is the <i>more</i> desirable,
health or wealth?" "Which is the <i>most</i> desirable,
health, wealth, or genius?"</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Of two such lessons, why forget<br/></span>
<span class="i0">The <i>nobler</i> and the <i>manlier</i> one?"<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><b>Completed.</b> This word is often incorrectly used for
<i>finished</i>. That is <i>complete</i> which lacks nothing; that is
<i>finished</i> which has had all done to it that was intended.
The builder of a house may <i>finish</i> it and yet leave it very
<i>incomplete</i>.</p>
<p><b>Condign.</b> It is safe to say that most of those who
use this word do not know its meaning, which is, suitable,
deserved, merited, proper. "His endeavors shall not lack
<i>condign</i> praise"; i. e., his endeavors shall not lack <i>proper</i>
or their <i>merited</i> praise. "A villain <i>condignly</i> punished" is
a villain punished <i>according to his deserts</i>. To use <i>condign</i>
in the sense of <i>severe</i> is just as incorrect as it would
be to use <i>deserved</i> or <i>merited</i> in the sense of <i>severe</i>.</p>
<p><b>Confirmed Invalid.</b> This phrase is a convenient mode
of expressing the idea it conveys, but it is difficult to defend,
inasmuch as <i>confirmed</i> means strengthened, established.</p>
<p><b>Consequence.</b> This word is sometimes used instead
of <i>importance</i> or <i>moment</i>; as, "They were all persons of
more or less <i>consequence</i>": read, "of more or less <i>importance</i>."
"It is a matter of no <i>consequence</i>": read, "of no
<i>moment</i>."</p>
<p><b>Consider.</b> "This word," says Mr. Richard Grant
White, in his "Words and Their Uses," "is perverted
from its true meaning by most of those who use it." <i>Consider</i>
means, to meditate, to deliberate, to reflect, to revolve
in the mind; and yet it is made to do service for<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></SPAN></span>
<i>think</i>, <i>suppose</i>, and <i>regard</i>. Thus: "I <i>consider</i> his course
very unjustifiable"; "I have always <i>considered</i> it my duty,"
etc.; "I <i>consider</i> him as being the cleverest man of my
acquaintance."</p>
<p><b>Contemptible.</b> This word is sometimes used for <i>contemptuous</i>.
An old story says that a man once said to Dr.
Parr, "Sir, I have a <i>contemptible</i> opinion of you." "That
does not surprise me," returned the Doctor; "all your
opinions are <i>contemptible</i>." What is worthless or weak is
<i>contemptible</i>. Despicable is a word that expresses a still
more intense degree of the contemptible. A traitor is a
<i>despicable</i> character, while a poltroon is only <i>contemptible</i>.</p>
<p><b>Continually.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Perpetually">Perpetually</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Continue on.</b> The <i>on</i> in this phrase is generally superfluous.
"We continued on our way" is idiomatic English,
and is more euphonious than the sentence would be without
the particle. The meaning is, "We continued to travel
<i>on</i> our way." In such sentences, however, as "Continue
<i>on</i>," "He continued to read <i>on</i>," "The fever continued
<i>on</i> for some hours," and the like, the <i>on</i> generally serves
no purpose.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Conversationist" id="Conversationist"></SPAN>Conversationist.</b> This word is to be preferred to
<i>conversationalist</i>. Mr. Richard Grant White says that <i>conversationalist</i>
and <i>agriculturalist</i> are inadmissible. On the
other hand, Dr. Fitzedward Hall says: "As for <i>conversationist</i>
and <i>conversationalist</i>, <i>agriculturist</i> and <i>agriculturalist</i>,
as all are alike legitimate formations, it is for convention
to decide which we are to prefer."</p>
<p><b>Convoke—Convene.</b> At one time and another there
has been some discussion with regard to the correct use of
these two words. According to Crabb, "There is nothing
imperative on the part of those that <i>assemble</i>, or <i>convene</i>,
and nothing binding on those <i>assembled</i>, or <i>convened</i>: one<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></SPAN></span>
<i>assembles</i>, or <i>convenes</i>, by invitation or request; one attends
to the notice or not, at pleasure. <i>Convoke</i>, on the other
hand, is <i>an act of authority</i>; it is the call of one who has
the authority to give the call; it is heeded by those who
feel themselves bound to attend." Properly, then, President
Arthur <i>convokes</i>, not <i>convenes</i>, the Senate.</p>
<p><b>Corporeal—Corporal.</b> These adjectives, though regarded
as synonyms, are not used indiscriminately. <i>Corporal</i>
is used in reference to the body, or animal frame, in
its proper sense; <i>corporeal</i>, to the animal substance in an
extended sense—opposed to spiritual. <i>Corporal</i> punishment;
<i>corporeal</i> or <i>material</i> form or substance.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"That to <i>corporeal</i> substances could add<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Speed most spiritual."—Milton.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"What seemed <i>corporal</i><br/></span>
<span class="i0">Melted as breath into the wind."—Shakespeare.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><b>Couple.</b> In its primitive signification, this word does
not mean simply two, but two that are united by some
bond; such as, for example, the tie that unites the sexes.
It has, however, been so long used to mean two of a kind
considered together, that in this sense it may be deemed
permissible, though the substitution of the word <i>two</i> for it
would often materially improve the diction.</p>
<p><b>Courage.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Bravery">Bravery</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Crime" id="Crime"></SPAN>Crime—Vice—Sin.</b> The confusion that exists in the
use of these words is due largely to an imperfect understanding
of their respective meanings. <i>Crime</i> is the violation
of the law of a state; hence, as the laws of states differ,
what is crime in one state may not be crime in another.
<i>Vice</i> is a course of wrong-doing, and is not modified either
by country, religion, or condition. As for <i>sin</i>, it is very
difficult to define what it is, as what is sinful in the eyes of
one man may not be sinful in the eyes of another; what is<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></SPAN></span>
sinful in the eyes of a Jew may not be sinful in the eyes of
a Christian; and what is sinful in the eyes of a Christian of
one country may not be sinful in the eyes of a Christian of
another country. In the days of slavery, to harbor a runaway
slave was a <i>crime</i>, but it was, in the eyes of most people,
neither a <i>vice</i> nor a <i>sin</i>.</p>
<p><b>Crushed out.</b> "The rebellion was finally <i>crushed out</i>."
Out of what? We may <i>crush</i> the life out of a man, or
<i>crush</i> a man to death, and <i>crush</i>, not <i>crush out</i>, a rebellion.</p>
<p><b>Cultured.</b> This word is said to be a product of Boston—an
excellent place for anybody or anything to come
from. Many persons object to its use on the ground that
there can be no such participial adjective, because there is
no verb in use from which to form it. We have in use
the substantive <i>culture</i>, but, though the dictionaries recognize
the verb <i>to culture</i>, we do not use it. Be this objection
valid or be it not, <i>cultured</i> having but two syllables,
while its synonym <i>cultivated</i> has four, it is likely
to find favor with those who employ short words when
they convey their meaning as well as long ones. Other
adjectives of this kind are, moneyed, whiskered, slippered,
lettered, talented, cottaged, lilied, anguished, gifted, and
so forth.</p>
<p><b>Curious.</b> This word is often used instead of <i>strange</i>
or <i>remarkable</i>. "A <i>curious</i> fact": better, "a <i>remarkable</i>
fact." "A <i>curious</i> proceeding": better, "a <i>strange</i> proceeding."</p>
<p><b>Dangerous.</b> "He is pretty sick, but not <i>dangerous</i>."
Dangerous people are generally most dangerous when they
are most vigorous. Say, rather, "He is sick, but not <i>in
danger</i>."</p>
<p><b>Dearest.</b> "A gentleman once began a letter to his<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></SPAN></span>
bride thus: 'My <i>dearest</i> Maria.' The lady replied: 'My
dear John, I beg that you will mend either your morals or
your grammar. You call me your "<i>dearest</i> Maria"; am I
to understand that you have other Marias'?"—Moon's
"Bad English."</p>
<p><b>Deceiving.</b> "You are <i>deceiving</i> me." Not unfrequently
<i>deceiving</i> is used when the speaker means <i>trying to deceive</i>.
It is when we do not suspect deception that we are
deceived.</p>
<p><b>Decimate.</b> This word, meaning as it properly does to
tithe, to take the tenth part, is hardly permissible in the
sense in which it is used in such sentences as, "The regiment
held its position, though terribly <i>decimated</i> by the
enemy's artillery." "Though terribly <i>tithed</i>" would be
equally correct.</p>
<p><b>Demean.</b> This word is sometimes erroneously used in
the sense of <i>to debase</i>, <i>to disgrace</i>, <i>to humble</i>. It is a reflexive
verb, and its true meaning is <i>to behave</i>, <i>to carry</i>, <i>to
conduct</i>; as, "He <i>demeans himself</i> in a gentlemanly manner,"
i. e., He <i>behaves</i>, or <i>carries</i>, or <i>conducts</i>, himself in a
gentlemanly manner.</p>
<p><b>Denude.</b> "The vulture," says Brande, "has some
part of the head and sometimes of the neck <i>denuded</i> of
feathers." Most birds might be <i>denuded</i> of the feathers on
their heads; not so, however, the vulture, for his head is
always featherless. A thing can not be <i>denuded</i> of what
it does not have. Denuding a vulture's head and neck of
the feathers is like <i>denuding</i> an eel of its scales.</p>
<p><b>Deprecate.</b> Strangely enough, this word is often
used in the sense of disapprove, censure, condemn; as,
"He <i>deprecates</i> the whole proceeding"; "Your course,
from first to last, is universally <i>deprecated</i>." But, according
to the authorities, the word really means, to endeavor to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></SPAN></span>
avert by prayer; to pray exemption or deliverance from;
to beg off; to entreat; to urge against.</p>
<p>"Daniel kneeled upon his knees to <i>deprecate</i> the captivity
of his people."—Hewyt.</p>
<p><b>Despite.</b> This word is often incorrectly preceded by
<i>in</i> and followed by <i>of</i>; thus, "<i>In</i> despite <i>of</i> all our efforts
to detain him, he set out"; which should be, "Despite all
our efforts," etc., or "<i>In spite of</i> all our efforts," etc.</p>
<p><b>Determined.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Bound">Bound</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Diction.</b> This is a general term, and is applicable to
a single sentence or to a connected composition. <i>Bad diction</i>
may be due to errors in grammar, to a confused disposition
of words, or to an improper use of words. <i>Diction</i>,
to be good, requires to be only correct and clear. Of excellent
examples of bad diction there are very many in
a little work by Dr. L. T. Townsend, Professor of Sacred
Rhetoric in Boston University, the first volume of which
has lately come under my notice. The first ten lines of
Dr. Townsend's preface are:</p>
<p>"The leading genius<span class="fnanchor">1</span> of the People's College at Chautauqua
Lake, with a [the?] view of providing for his course<span class="fnanchor">2</span>
a text-book, asked for the publication of the following laws
and principles of speech.<span class="fnanchor">3</span></p>
<p>"The author, not seeing sufficient reason<span class="fnanchor">4</span> for withholding
what had been of much practical benefit<span class="fnanchor">5</span> to himself,
consented.<span class="fnanchor">6</span></p>
<p>"The subject-matter herein contained is an outgrowth
from<span class="fnanchor">7</span> occasional instructions<span class="fnanchor">8</span> given<span class="fnanchor">9</span> while occupying the
chair<span class="fnanchor">10</span> of Sacred Rhetoric."</p>
<p>1. The phrase <i>leading genius</i> is badly chosen. Founder,
projector, head, organizer, principal, or president—some one
of these terms would probably have been appropriate. 2.
What course? Race-course, course of ethics, æsthetics,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></SPAN></span>
rhetoric, or what?<SPAN name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</SPAN> 3. "The following laws and principles
of speech." And how came these laws and principles in
existence? Who made them? We are to infer, it would
seem, that Professor Townsend made them, and that the
world would have had to go without the laws that govern
language and the principles on which language is formed
had it pleased Professor Townsend to withhold them. 4.
"<i>Sufficient</i> reason"! Then there were reasons why Professor
Townsend ought to have kept these good things all
to himself; only, they were not <i>sufficient</i>. 5. "Practical
benefit"! Is there <i>any</i> such thing as impractical benefit?
Are not all benefits practical? and, if they are, what
purpose does the epithet <i>practical</i> serve? 6. Consented
to what? It is easy to see that the Doctor means <i>acceded
to the request</i>, but he is a long way from saying
so. The object writers usually have in view is to convey
thought, not to set their readers to guessing. 7. <i>The
outgrowth of</i> would be English. 8. "Occasional instructions"!
Very vague, and well calculated to set the reader
to guessing again. 9. Given to whom? 10. "<i>The</i> chair."
The definite article made it necessary for the writer to
specify what particular chair of Sacred Rhetoric he meant.</p>
<p>These ten lines are a fair specimen of the diction of the
entire volume.</p>
<p>Page 131. "To render a <i>given ambiguous or</i> unintelligible
sentence transparent, the following suggestions are
recommended." The words in italics are unnecessary,
since what is ambiguous is unintelligible. Then who has
ever heard of <i>recommending suggestions</i>?</p>
<p>Dr. Townsend speaks of <i>mastering a subject before publishing
it</i>. Publishing a subject?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>Page 133. "Violations of simplicity, whatever the
type, show either that <i>the mind of</i> the writer is tainted with
affectation, or <i>else</i> that <i>an effort is making</i> to conceal <i>conscious</i>
poverty of <i>sentiment</i> under loftiness of expression."
Here is an example of a kind of sentence that can be
mended in only one way—by rewriting, which might be
done thus: Violations of simplicity, whatever the type,
show either that the writer is tainted with affectation, or
that he is making an effort to conceal poverty of thought
under loftiness of expression.</p>
<p>Page 143. "This <i>quality</i> is fully <i>stated</i> and recommended,"
etc. Who has ever heard of <i>stating a quality</i>?</p>
<p>On page 145 Dr. Townsend says: "A person can not
read a single book of poor style without having his own
style vitiated." <i>A book of poor style</i> is an awkward expression,
to say the least. <i>A single badly-written book</i> would
have been unobjectionable.</p>
<p>Page 160. "The presented picture produces instantly
a definite effect." Why this unusual disposition of
words? Why not say, in accordance with the idiom of
the language, "The picture presented instantly produces,"
etc.?</p>
<p>Page 161. "The boy studies ... geography and hates
everything connected with the sea and land." Why <i>the</i>
boy? As there are few things besides seals and turtles that
are connected with the sea <i>and</i> land, the boy in question
has few things to hate.</p>
<p>On page 175, Dr. Townsend heads a chapter thus:
"<i>Art</i> of acquiring <i>Skill</i> in the use of Poetic Speech."
This reminds one of the man who tried to lift himself over
a fence by taking hold of the seat of his breeches. "<i>How</i>
to acquire skill" is probably what is meant.</p>
<p>On page 232, "Jeremy Taylor is among the best<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></SPAN></span>
models of long sentences which are both clear and logical."
Jeremy Taylor is a clear and logical long sentence?! True,
our learned rhetorician says so, but he doesn't mean it.
He means, "In Jeremy Taylor we find some of the best
examples of long sentences which are at once clear and
logical."</p>
<p>Since the foregoing was written, the second volume of
Professor Townsend's "Art of Speech" has been published.
In the brief preface to this volume we find this characteristic
sentence: "The author has felt that <i>clergymen</i> more
than <i>those</i> of other professions will study this treatise."
The antecedent of the relative <i>those</i> being <i>clergymen</i>, the
sentence, it will be perceived, says: "The author has felt
that <i>clergymen</i> more than <i>clergymen of other professions</i> will
study this treatise." Comment on such "art" as Professor
Townsend's is not necessary.</p>
<p>I find several noteworthy examples of bad diction in an
article in a recent number of an Australian magazine. The
following are some of them: "<i>Large capital</i> always manages
to make <i>itself</i> master of the situation; it is the small
capitalist and the small landholder that would suffer,"
etc. Should be, "<i>The large capitalist ... himself</i>," etc.
Again: "The small farmer would ... be despoiled ...
of the meager profit which <i>strenuous</i> labor had conquered
from the <i>reluctant</i> soil." Not only are the epithets in
italics superfluous, and consequently weakening in their
effect, but idiom does not permit <i>strenuous</i> to be used to
qualify <i>labor</i>: <i>hard</i> labor and <i>strenuous</i> effort. Again:
"Capital has always the choice <i>of</i> a large field." Should
be, "the choice <i>offered by</i> a large field." Again: "Should
capital be withdrawn, tenements would soon prove insufficient."
Should be, "<i>the number of</i> tenements would," etc.
Again: "Men of wealth, therefore, would find their Fifth<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></SPAN></span>
Avenue mansions and their summer villas a little more
burdened with taxes, but with this increase happily balanced
by the exemption of their bonds and mortgages, their
plate and furniture." The thought here is so simple that
we easily divine it; but, if we look at the sentence at all
carefully, we find that, though we supply the ellipses in the
most charitable manner possible, the sentence really says:
"Men would find their mansions more burdened, but would
find them with this increased burden happily balanced by
the exemption," etc. The sentence should have been framed
somewhat in this wise: "Men ... would find their ...
mansions ... more burdened with taxes, but this increase
in the taxes on their real estate would be happily balanced
by the exemption from taxation of their bonds, mortgages,
plate, and furniture." Again: "Men generally ... would
be inclined to laugh at the idea of intrusting the modern
politician with such gigantic opportunities for enriching his
favorites." We do not <i>intrust</i> one another with <i>opportunities</i>.
<i>To enrich</i> would better the diction. Again: "The
value of land that has accrued from labor is not ... a just
object for confiscation." Correctly: "The value of land
that has <i>resulted</i> from labor is not <i>justly</i> ... an object <i>of</i>
confiscation." <i>Accrue</i> is properly used more in the sense of
<i>spontaneous growth</i>. Again: "If the state attempts to confiscate
this increase by means of taxes, either rentals will
increase correspondingly, or such a check will be put upon
<i>the</i> growth <i>of each place</i> and <i>all the</i> enterprises <i>connected with
it</i> that greater injury would be done than if things had been
left untouched." We have here, it will be observed, a confusion
of moods; the sentence begins in the indicative and
ends in the conditional. The words in italics are worse
than superfluous. Rewritten: "If the state <i>should</i> attempt
to confiscate this increase by means of taxes, either rentals<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></SPAN></span>
<i>would</i> increase correspondingly, or such a check <i>would</i> be
put upon growth and enterprise that greater injury would,"
etc. Again: "The <i>theory</i> that land ... is a <i>boon</i> of Nature,
to which every person has an inalienable right equal
to every other person, is not new." The words <i>theory</i> and
<i>boon</i> are here misused. A <i>theory</i> is a system of suppositions.
The things man receives from Nature are <i>gifts</i>, not <i>boons</i>:
the gift of reason, the gift of speech, etc. The sentence
should be: "The <i>declaration</i> (or <i>assertion</i>) that land ... is
a <i>gift</i> of Nature, to which every person has an inalienable
right equal to <i>that of any</i> other person, is not new." Or,
more simply and quite as forcibly: "... to which one person
has an inalienable right equal to that of another, is not
new." Or, more simply still, and more forcibly: "... to
which one <i>man</i> has as good a right as another, is not new."
By substituting the word <i>man</i> for <i>person</i>, we have a word
of one syllable that expresses, in this connection, all that
the longer word expresses. The fewer the syllables, if the
thought be fully expressed, the more vigorous the diction.
Inalienability being foreign to the discussion, the long word
<i>inalienable</i> only encumbers the sentence.</p>
<p>"We have thus<span class="fnanchor">1</span> passed in review<span class="fnanchor">2</span> the changes and improvements<span class="fnanchor">3</span>
which the revision contains<span class="fnanchor">4</span> in the First Epistle
to the Corinthians. It has<span class="fnanchor">5</span> not, indeed,<span class="fnanchor">6</span> been possible
to refer to<span class="fnanchor">7</span> them all; but so many illustrations<span class="fnanchor">8</span> have been
given in<span class="fnanchor">9</span> the several classes described that the reader will
have<span class="fnanchor">10</span> a satisfactory<span class="fnanchor">11</span> survey of the whole subject. Whatever
may be said of other portions<span class="fnanchor">12</span> of the New Testament,
we think it will be generally admitted that in this
Epistle the changes have improved the old<span class="fnanchor">13</span> translation.
They are such as<span class="fnanchor">14</span> make the English version<span class="fnanchor">15</span> conform
more completely<span class="fnanchor">16</span> to the Greek original. If this be<span class="fnanchor">17</span> true,
the revisers have done a good work for the Church.<span class="fnanchor">18</span> If it<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></SPAN></span>
be true<span class="fnanchor">19</span> with regard to all the New Testament books, the
work which they have done will remain<span class="fnanchor">20</span> a blessing to the
readers of those books for<span class="fnanchor">21</span> generations to come. But the
blessing will be only in the clearer presentation of the Divine
truth, and, therefore, it will be only to the glory of God."</p>
<p>This astonishingly slipshod bit of composition is from
the pen of the Rev. Dr. Timothy Dwight. If the learned
Professor of Divinity in Yale College deemed it worth while
to give a little thought to manner as well as to matter, it is
probable that his diction would be very different from what
it is; and, if he were to give a few minutes to the making
of verbal corrections in the foregoing paragraph, he would,
perhaps, do something like this: 1, change <i>thus</i> to <i>now</i>; 2,
write <i>some of</i> the changes; 3, strike out <i>and improvements</i>;
4, for <i>contains changes</i> substitute some other form of expression;
5, instead of <i>has been</i>, write <i>was</i>; 6, strike out <i>indeed</i>;
7, instead of <i>refer to</i>, write <i>cite</i>; 8, change <i>illustrations</i>
to <i>examples</i>; 9, instead of <i>in</i>, write <i>of</i>; 10, instead
of <i>the reader will have</i>, write <i>the reader will be able to get</i>;
11, change <i>satisfactory</i> to <i>tolerable</i>; 12, change <i>portions</i> to
<i>parts</i>; 13, not talk of the <i>old</i> translation, as we have no
new one; 14, strike out as superfluous the words <i>are such
as</i>; 15, change <i>version</i> to <i>text</i>; 16, substitute <i>nearly</i> for
<i>completely</i>, which does not admit of comparison; 17, substitute
the indicative for the conditional; 18, end sentence
with the word <i>work</i>; 19, introduce <i>also</i> after <i>be</i>; 20, instead
of <i>remain</i>, in the sense of <i>be</i>, use <i>be</i>; 21, introduce
<i>the</i> after <i>for</i>. As for the last sentence, it reminds one of
Mendelssohn's "Songs without Words," though here we
have, instead of a song and no words, words and no song,
or rather no meaning. As is often true of cant, we have
here simply a syntactical arrangement of words signifying—nothing.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>If Professor Dwight were of those who, in common
with the Addisons and Macaulays and Newmans, think it
worth while to give some attention to diction, the thought
conveyed in the paragraph under consideration would, perhaps,
have been expressed somewhat in this wise:</p>
<p>"We have now passed in review some of the changes
that, in the revision, have been made in the First Epistle
to the Corinthians. It was not possible to cite them all,
but a sufficient number of examples of the several classes
described have been given to enable the reader to get a tolerable
survey of the whole subject. Whatever may be said
of the other parts of the New Testament, we think it will
be generally admitted that in this Epistle the changes have
improved the translation. They make the English text
conform more nearly to the Greek. This being true, the
revisers have done a good work; and, if it be also true with
regard to all the New Testament books, the work which
they have done will be a blessing to the readers of these
books for the generations to come."</p>
<p><b>Die with.</b> Man and brute die <i>of</i>, and not <i>with</i>, fevers,
consumption, the plague, pneumonia, old age, and so on.</p>
<p><b>Differ.</b> Writers differ <i>from</i> one another in opinion with
regard to the particle we should use with this verb. Some
say they differ <i>with</i>, others that they differ <i>from</i>, their
neighbors in opinion. The weight of authority is on the
side of always using <i>from</i>, though A may differ <i>with</i> C
from D in opinion with regard, say, to the size of the fixed
stars. "I differ, as to this matter, <i>from</i> Bishop Lowth."—Cobbett.
<i>Different to</i> is heard sometimes instead of <i>different
from</i>.</p>
<p><b>Directly.</b> The Britons have a way of using this word
in the sense of <i>when</i>, <i>as soon as</i>. This is quite foreign to
its true meaning, which is immediately, at once, straightway.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></SPAN></span>
They say, for example, "<i>Directly</i> he reached the city,
he went to his brother's." "Directly he [the saint] was
dead, the Arabs sent his woolen shirt to the sovereign."—"London
News." Dr. Hall says of its use in the sense of
<i>as soon as</i>: "But, after all, it may simply anticipate on the
English of the future."</p>
<p><b>Dirt.</b> This word means filth or anything that renders
foul and unclean, and means nothing else. It is often improperly
used for earth or loam, and sometimes even for
sand or gravel. We not unfrequently hear of a <i>dirt</i> road
when an unpaved road is meant.</p>
<p><b>Discommode.</b> This word is rarely used; <i>incommode</i>
is accounted the better form.</p>
<p><b>Disremember.</b> This is a word vulgarly used in the
sense of <i>forget</i>. It is said to be more frequently heard in
the South than in the North.</p>
<p><b>Distinguish.</b> This verb is sometimes improperly used
for <i>discriminate</i>. We <i>distinguish</i> by means of the senses
as well as of the understanding; we <i>discriminate</i> by means
of the understanding only. "It is difficult, in some cases,
to <i>distinguish between</i>," etc.: should be, "It is difficult, in
some cases, to <i>discriminate between</i>," etc. We <i>distinguish</i>
one thing <i>from another</i>, and <i>discriminate between</i> two or
more things.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Dock" id="Dock"></SPAN>Dock—Wharf.</b> The first of these words is often improperly
used for the second. Of docks there are several
kinds: a <i>naval dock</i> is a place for the keeping of naval stores,
timber, and materials for ship-building; a <i>dry dock</i> is a
place where vessels are drawn out of the water for repairs;
a <i>wet dock</i> is a place where vessels are kept afloat at a certain
level while they are loaded and unloaded; a <i>sectional
dock</i> is a contrivance for raising vessels out of the water on
a series of air-tight boxes. A <i>dock</i>, then, is a place into<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></SPAN></span>
which things are received; hence, a man might fall <i>into</i> a
dock, but could no more fall <i>off</i> a dock than he could fall off
a hole. A <i>wharf</i> is a sort of quay built by the side of the
water. A similar structure built at a right angle with the
shore is generally called a <i>pier</i>. Vessels lie at <i>wharves</i> and
<i>piers</i>, not at <i>docks</i>.</p>
<p><b>Donate.</b> This word, which is defined as meaning to
give, to contribute, is looked upon by most champions of
good English as being an abomination. <i>Donation</i> is also
little used by careful writers. "<i>Donate</i>," says Mr. Gould,
"may be dismissed with this remark: so long as its place is
occupied by <i>give</i>, <i>bestow</i>, <i>grant</i>, <i>present</i>, etc., it is not needed;
and it should be unceremoniously bowed out, or thrust
out, of the seat into which it has, temporarily, intruded."</p>
<p><b>Done.</b> This past participle is often very inelegantly, if
not improperly, used thus: "He did not cry out as some
have <i>done</i> against it," which should read, "He did not cry
out as some have against it"; i. e., "as some <i>have cried out</i>
against it."</p>
<p>"Done is frequently a very great offender against grammar,"
says Cobbett. "<i>To do</i> is the <i>act of doing</i>. We see
people write, 'I <i>did</i> not speak yesterday so well as I wished
to have <i>done</i>.' Now, what is meant by the writer? He
means to say that he <i>did</i> not speak so well as he then
<i>wished</i>, or was wishing, <i>to speak</i>. Therefore, the sentence
should be, 'I did not speak yesterday so well as I wished
<i>to do</i>.' That is to say, 'so well as I wished to do it'; that is
to say, to do or to perform <i>the act of speaking</i>.</p>
<p>"Take great care not to be too free in your use of the
verb <i>to do</i> in any of its times or modes. It is a nice little
handy word, and, like our oppressed <i>it</i>, it is made use of
very often when the writer is at a <i>loss</i> for what to put down.
<i>To do</i> is to <i>act</i>, and therefore it never can, in any of its<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></SPAN></span>
parts, supply the place of a <i>neuter</i> verb. 'How do you
do?' Here <i>do</i> refers to the <i>state</i>, and is essentially passive
or neuter. Yet, to employ it for this purpose is very
common. Dr. Blair, in his 23d Lecture, says: 'It is somewhat
unfortunate that this Number of the "Spectator"
did not <i>end</i>, as it might have <i>done</i>, with the former beautiful
period.' That is to say, <i>done it</i>. And then we ask,
Done what? Not the <i>act of ending</i>, because in this case
there is <i>no action</i> at all. The verb means <i>to come to an
end</i>, <i>to cease</i>, <i>not to go any further</i>. This same verb <i>to
end</i> is sometimes an active verb: 'I <i>end</i> my sentence';
<i>then</i> the verb <i>to do</i> may supply its place; as, 'I have not
ended my sentence so well as I might have <i>done</i>'; that is,
done <i>it</i>; that is, done, or performed, the <i>act of ending</i>. But
the Number of the 'Spectator' was no <i>actor</i>; it was expected
to <i>perform</i> nothing; it was, by the Doctor, wished to have
<i>ceased</i> to proceed. 'Did not <i>end</i> as it very well might have
ended....' This would have been correct; but the Doctor
wished to avoid the <i>repetition</i>, and thus he fell into bad
grammar. 'Mr. Speaker, I do not <i>feel</i> so well satisfied as
I should have <i>done</i> if the Right Honorable Gentleman had
explained the matter more fully.' To <i>feel</i> satisfied is—when
the satisfaction is to arise from conviction produced by fact
or reasoning—a senseless expression; and to supply its
place, when it is, as in this case, a neuter verb, by <i>to do</i>, is
as senseless. Done <i>what</i>? Done <i>the act of feeling</i>! 'I
do not <i>feel</i> so well satisfied as I should have <i>done</i>, or <i>executed</i>,
or <i>performed</i> the <i>act of feeling</i>'! What incomprehensible
words!"</p>
<p><b>Don't.</b> Everybody knows that <i>don't</i> is a contraction of
<i>do not</i>, and that <i>doesn't</i> is a contraction of <i>does not</i>; and yet
<i>nearly</i> everybody is guilty of using <i>don't</i> when he should
use <i>doesn't</i>. "So you <i>don't</i> go; John <i>doesn't</i> either, I hear."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Double Genitive.</b> An anecdote of Mr. Lincoln—an
anecdote of Mr. Lincoln's. We see at a glance that these
two phrases are very different in meaning. So, also, a portrait
of Brown—a portrait of Brown's. No precise rule
has ever been given to guide us in our choice between these
two forms of the possessive case. Sometimes it is not material
which form is employed; where, however, it is material—and
it generally is—we must consider the thought
we wish to express, and rely on our discrimination.</p>
<p><b>Dramatize.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Adapt">Adapt</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Drawing-room.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Parlor">Parlor</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Dress" id="Dress"></SPAN>Dress—Gown.</b> Within the memory of many persons
the outer garment worn by women was properly called a
<i>gown</i> by everybody, instead of being improperly called a
<i>dress</i>, as it now is by nearly everybody.</p>
<p><b>Drive.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Ride">Ride</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Due" id="Due"></SPAN>Due—Owing.</b> These two words, though close synonyms,
should not be used indiscriminately. The mistake
usually made is in using <i>due</i> instead of <i>owing</i>. That is <i>due</i>
which ought to be paid as a debt; that is <i>owing</i> which is to
be referred to as a source. "It was <i>owing</i> to his exertions
that the scheme succeeded." "It was <i>owing</i> to your negligence
that the accident happened." "A certain respect is
<i>due</i> to men's prejudices." "This was <i>owing</i> to an indifference
to the pleasures of life." "It is <i>due</i> to the public that
I should tell all I know of the matter."</p>
<p><b>Each other.</b> "Their great authors address themselves,
not to their country, but to <i>each other</i>."—Buckle. <i>Each
other</i> is properly applied to two only; <i>one another</i> must be
used when the number considered exceeds two. Buckle
should have written <i>one another</i> and not <i>each other</i>, unless
he meant to intimate that the Germans had only two great
authors, which is not probable.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Eat.</b> Grammarians differ very widely with regard to
the conjugation of this verb; there is no doubt, however,
that from every point of view the preferable forms for the
preterite and past participle are respectively <i>ate</i> and <i>eaten</i>.
To refined ears the other forms smack of vulgarity, although
supported by good authority. "I <i>ate</i> an apple." "I have
<i>eaten</i> dinner." "John <i>ate</i> supper with me." "As soon as
you have <i>eaten</i> breakfast we will set out."</p>
<p><b>Editorial.</b> The use of this adjective as a substantive
is said to be an Americanism.</p>
<p><b>Education.</b> This is one of the most misused of words.
A man may be well acquainted with the contents of text-books,
and yet be a person of little <i>education</i>; on the other
hand, a man may be a person of good education, and yet
know little of the contents of text-books. Abraham Lincoln
and Edwin Forrest knew comparatively little of what
is generally learned in schools; still they were men of culture,
men of <i>education</i>. A man may have ever so much
book-knowledge and still be a boor; but a man can not be
a person of good education and not be—so far as manner
is concerned—a gentleman. <i>Education</i>, then, is a whole
of which Instruction and Breeding are the parts. The man
or the woman—even in this democratic country of ours—who
<i>deserves</i> the title of gentleman or lady is always a person
of education; i. e., he or she has a sufficient acquaintance
with books and with the usages of social intercourse
to acquit himself or herself creditably in the society of cultivated
people. Not moral worth, nor learning, nor wealth,
nor all three combined, can unaided make a gentleman, for
with all three a man might be <i>uneducated</i>—i. e., coarse, unbred,
unschooled in those things which alone make men
welcome in the society of the refined.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Effectuate" id="Effectuate"></SPAN>Effectuate.</b> This word, together with <i>ratiocinate</i> and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></SPAN></span>
<i>eventuate</i>, is said to be a great favorite with the rural members
of the Arkansas legislature.</p>
<p><b>Effluvium.</b> The plural of this word is <i>effluvia</i>. It is
a common error with those who have no knowledge of Latin
to speak of "a disagreeable effluvia," which is as incorrect
as it would be to talk about "a disagreeable vapors."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Effort_without_Effect" id="Effort_without_Effect"></SPAN>Effort without Effect.</b> "Some writers deal in expletives
to a degree that tires the ear and offends the understanding.
With them everything is <i>excessively</i>, or <i>immensely</i>,
or <i>extremely</i>, or <i>vastly</i>, or <i>surprisingly</i>, or <i>wonderfully</i>, or
<i>abundantly</i>, or the like. The notion of such writers is that
these words give <i>strength</i> to what they are saying. This is
a great error. Strength must be found in the <i>thought</i>, or it
will never be found in the <i>words</i>. Big-sounding words,
without thoughts corresponding, are effort without effect."—William
Cobbett. See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Forcible-feeble">Forcible-feeble</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Egoist.</b> "One of a class of philosophers who professed
to be sure of nothing but their own existence."—Reid.</p>
<p><b>Egotist.</b> "One who talks much of himself."</p>
<p>"A tribe of <i>egotists</i> for whom I have always had a mortal
aversion."—"Spectator."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Either" id="Either"></SPAN>Either.</b> This word means, strictly, the <i>one</i> or the <i>other</i>
of two. Unlike <i>both</i>, which means two taken collectively,
<i>either</i>, like <i>each</i>, may mean <i>two considered separately</i>; but in
this sense <i>each</i> is the better word to use. "Give me <i>either</i>
of them" means, Give me the one or the other of two.
"He has a farm on <i>either</i> side of the river" would mean
that he has two farms, one on each (or either) side of the
river. "He has a farm on <i>both</i> sides of the river" would
mean that his farm lies partly on the one side of the river
and partly on the other. The use of <i>either</i> in the sense of
<i>each</i>, though biblical and defensible, may be accounted little
if any better than an affectation. <i>Neither</i> is the negative<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></SPAN></span>
of <i>either</i>. <i>Either</i> is responded to by <i>or</i>, <i>neither</i> by <i>nor</i>;
as, "<i>either</i> this <i>or</i> that," "<i>neither</i> this <i>nor</i> that." <i>Either</i>
and <i>neither</i> should not—strictly—be used in relation to
more than two objects. But, though both <i>either</i> and <i>neither</i>
are strictly applicable to two only, they have been for a
very long time used in relation to more than two by many
good writers; and, as it is often convenient so to use them,
it seems probable that the custom will prevail. When more
than two things are referred to, <i>any</i> and <i>none</i> should be
used instead of <i>either</i> and <i>neither</i>; as, "<i>any</i> of the three,"
not, "<i>either</i> of the three"; "<i>none</i> of the four," not, "<i>neither</i>
of the four."</p>
<p><b>Either Alternative.</b> The word <i>alternative</i> means a
choice offered between two things. An <i>alternative writ</i>,
for example, offers the <i>alternative</i> of choosing between the
doing of a specified act or of showing cause why it is not
done. Such propositions, therefore, as, "You are at liberty
to choose <i>either</i> alternative," "<i>Two</i> alternatives are
presented to me," "<i>Several</i> alternatives presented themselves,"
and the like, are not correct English. The word is
correctly used thus: "I am confronted with a hard <i>alternative</i>:
I must either denounce a friend or betray my trust."
We rarely hear the word <i>alternate</i> or any of its derivatives
correctly pronounced.</p>
<p><b>Elder.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Older">Older</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Elegant.</b> Professor Proctor says: "If you say to an
American, 'This is a fine morning,' he is likely to reply,
'It is an <i>elegant</i> morning,' or perhaps oftener by using simply
the word <i>elegant</i>. This is not a pleasing use of the
word." This is not American English, Professor, but popinjay
English.</p>
<p><b>Ellipsis.</b> The omission of a word or of words necessary
to complete the grammatical construction, but not<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></SPAN></span>
necessary to make the meaning clear, is called an <i>ellipsis</i>.
We almost always, whether in speaking or in writing, leave
out some of the words necessary to the <i>full</i> expression of
our meaning. For example, in dating a letter to-day, we
should write, "New York, August 25, 1881," which would
be, if fully written out, "I am now writing in the city of
New York; this is the twenty-fifth day of August, and this
month is in the one thousand eight hundred and eighty-first
year of the Christian era." "I am going to Wallack's"
means, "I am going to Wallack's <i>theatre</i>." "I shall spend
the summer at my aunt's"; i. e., at my aunt's <i>house</i>.</p>
<p>By supplying the <i>ellipses</i> we can often discover the
errors in a sentence, if there are any.</p>
<p><b>Enjoy bad Health.</b> As no one has ever been known
to <i>enjoy</i> bad health, it is better to employ some other form
of expression than this. Say, for example, he is in <i>feeble</i>,
or <i>delicate</i>, health.</p>
<p><b>Enthuse.</b> This is a word that is occasionally heard in
conversation, and is sometimes met with in print; but it
has not as yet made its appearance in the dictionaries.
What its ultimate fate will be, of course, no one can tell;
for the present, however, it is studiously shunned by those
who are at all careful in the selection of their language. It
is said to be most used in the South. The writer has never
seen it anywhere in the North but in the columns of the
"Boston Congregationalist."</p>
<p><b>Epigram.</b> "The word <i>epigram</i> signified originally an
inscription on a monument. It next came to mean a short
poem containing some single thought pointedly expressed,
the subjects being very various—amatory, convivial, moral,
eulogistic, satirical, humorous, etc. Of the various devices
for brevity and point employed in such compositions, especially
in modern times, the most frequent is a play upon<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></SPAN></span>
words.... In the <i>epigram</i> the mind is roused by a conflict
or contradiction between the form of the language and the
meaning really conveyed."—Bain.</p>
<p>Some examples are:</p>
<p>"When you have nothing to say, say it."</p>
<p>"We can not see the wood for the trees"; that is, we
can not get a general view because we are so engrossed with
the details.</p>
<p>"Verbosity is cured by a large vocabulary"; that is, he
who commands a large vocabulary is able to select words
that will give his meaning tersely.</p>
<p>"By indignities men come to dignities."</p>
<p>"Some people are too foolish to commit follies."</p>
<p>"He went to his imagination for his facts, and to his
memory for his tropes."</p>
<p><b>Epithet.</b> Many persons use this word who are in error
with regard to its meaning; they think that to "apply epithets"
to a person is to vilify and insult him. Not at all.
An <i>epithet</i> is a word that expresses a quality, good or bad;
a term that expresses an attribute. "All <i>adjectives</i> are <i>epithets</i>,
but all <i>epithets</i> are not <i>adjectives</i>," says Crabb; "thus,
in Virgil's Pater Æneas, the <i>pater</i> is an <i>epithet</i>, but not an
<i>adjective</i>." <i>Epithet</i> is the technical term of the rhetorician;
<i>adjective</i>, that of the grammarian.</p>
<p><b>Equally as well.</b> A redundant form of expression, as
any one will see who for a moment considers it. <i>As well</i>,
or <i>equally well</i>, expresses quite as much as <i>equally as well</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Equanimity_of_mind" id="Equanimity_of_mind"></SPAN>Equanimity of mind.</b> This phrase is tautological,
and expresses no more than does <i>equanimity</i> (literally,
"equalmindedness") alone; hence, <i>of mind</i> is superfluous,
and consequently inelegant. <i>Anxiety of mind</i> is a scarcely
less redundant form of expression. <i>A capricious mind</i> is in
the same category.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Erratum.</b> Plural, <i>errata</i>.</p>
<p><b>Esquire.</b> An esquire was originally the shield-bearer
of a knight. It is much, and, in the opinion of some, rather
absurdly, used in this country. Mr. Richard Grant White
says on the subject of its use: "I have yet to discover
what a man means when he addresses a letter to John
Dash, <i>Esqr.</i>" He means no more nor less than when he
writes <i>Mr.</i> (master). The use of <i>Esq.</i> is quite as prevalent
in England as in America, and has little more meaning
there than here. It simply belongs to our stock of courteous
epithets.</p>
<p><b>Euphemism.</b> A description which describes in inoffensive
language that which is of itself offensive, or a
figure which uses agreeable phraseology when the literal
would be offensive, is called a <i>euphemism</i>.</p>
<p><b>Eventuate.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Effectuate">Effectuate</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Everlastingly.</b> This adverb is misused in the South
in a manner that is very apt to excite the risibility of one
to whom the peculiar misuse is new. The writer recently
visited the upper part of New York with a distinguished
Southern poet and journalist. It was the gentleman's first
ride over an elevated road. When we were fairly under
way, in admiration of the rate of speed at which the cars
were moving, he exclaimed, "Well, they do just <i>everlastingly</i>
shoot along, don't they!"</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Every" id="Every"></SPAN>Every.</b> This word, which means simply each or all
taken separately, is of late years frequently made, by slipshod
speakers, to do duty for perfect, entire, great, or all
possible. Thus we have such expressions as <i>every</i> pains,
<i>every</i> confidence, <i>every</i> praise, <i>every</i> charity, and so on.
We also have such diction as, "<i>Every one</i> has this in common";
meaning, "<i>All of us</i> have this in common."</p>
<p><b>Every-day Latin.</b> <i>A fortiori</i>: with stronger reason.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></SPAN></span>
<i>A posteriori</i>: from the effect to the cause. <i>A priori</i>: from
the cause to the effect. <i>Bona fide</i>: in good faith; in reality.
<i>Certiorari</i>: to be made more certain. <i>Ceteris paribus</i>:
other circumstances being equal. <i>De facto</i>: in fact; in
reality. <i>De jure</i>: in right; in law. <i>Ecce homo</i>: behold
the man. <i>Ergo</i>: therefore. <i>Et cetera</i>: and the rest; and
so on. <i>Excerpta</i>: extracts. <i>Exempli gratia</i>: by way of
example; abbreviated, <i>e. g.</i>, and <i>ex. gr.</i> <i>Ex officio</i>: by
virtue of his office. <i>Ex parte</i>: on one side; an <i>ex parte</i>
statement is a statement on one side only. <i>Ibidem</i>: in the
same place; abbreviated, <i>ibid.</i> <i>Idem</i>: the same. <i>Id est</i>:
that is; abbreviated, <i>i. e.</i> <i>Imprimis</i>: in the first place.
<i>In statu quo</i>: in the former state; just as it was. <i>In statu
quo ante bellum</i>: in the same state as before the war. <i>In
transitu</i>: in passing. <i>Index expurgatorius</i>: a purifying
index. <i>In extremis</i>: at the point of death. <i>In memoriam</i>:
in memory. <i>Ipse dixit</i>: on his sole assertion. <i>Item</i>: also.
<i>Labor omnia vincit</i>: labor overcomes every difficulty. <i>Locus
sigilli</i>: the place of the seal. <i>Multum in parvo</i>: much
in little. <i>Mutatis mutandis</i>: after making the necessary
changes. <i>Ne plus ultra</i>: nothing beyond; the utmost
point. <i>Nolens volens</i>: willing or unwilling. <i>Nota bene</i>:
mark well; take particular notice. <i>Omnes</i>: all. <i>O tempora,
O mores!</i> O the times and the manners! <i>Otium cum
dignitate</i>: ease with dignity. <i>Otium sine dignitate</i>: ease
without dignity. <i>Particeps criminis</i>: an accomplice. <i>Peccavi</i>:
I have sinned. <i>Per se</i>: by itself. <i>Prima facie</i>: on
the first view or appearance; at first sight. <i>Pro bono publico</i>:
for the public good. <i>Quid nunc</i>: what now? <i>Quid
pro quo</i>: one thing for another; an equivalent. <i>Quondam</i>:
formerly. <i>Rara avis</i>: a rare bird; a prodigy. <i>Resurgam</i>:
I shall rise again. <i>Seriatim</i>: in order. <i>Sine
die</i>: without specifying any particular day; to an indefinite<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></SPAN></span>
time. <i>Sine qua non</i>: an indispensable condition. <i>Sui
generis</i>: of its own kind. <i>Vade mecum</i>: go with me.
<i>Verbatim</i>: word by word. <i>Versus</i>: against. <i>Vale</i>: fare-well.
<i>Via</i>: by the way of. <i>Vice</i>: in the place of. <i>Vide</i>:
see. <i>Vi et armis</i>: by main force. <i>Viva voce</i>: orally; by
word of mouth. <i>Vox populi, vox Dei</i>: the voice of the
people is the voice of God.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Evidence" id="Evidence"></SPAN>Evidence—Testimony.</b> These words, though differing
widely in meaning, are often used indiscriminately by
careless speakers. <i>Evidence</i> is that which <i>tends</i> to convince;
<i>testimony</i> is that which is <i>intended</i> to convince. In a judicial
investigation, for example, there might be a great deal
of <i>testimony</i>—a great deal of <i>testifying</i>—and very little <i>evidence</i>;
and the <i>evidence</i> might be quite the reverse of the
<i>testimony</i>. See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Proof">Proof</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Exaggeration.</b> "Weak minds, feeble writers and
speakers delight in <i>superlatives</i>." See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Effort_without_Effect">Effort without
Effect</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Except.</b> "No one need apply <i>except</i> he is thoroughly
familiar with the business," should be, "No one need
apply <i>unless</i>," etc.</p>
<p><b>Excessively.</b> That class of persons who are never
content with any form of expression that falls short of the
superlative, frequently use <i>excessively</i> when <i>exceedingly</i> or
even the little word <i>very</i> would serve their turn better.
They say, for example, that the weather is <i>excessively hot</i>,
when they should content themselves with saying simply
that the weather is <i>very warm</i>, or, if the word suits them
better, <i>hot</i>. Intemperance in the use of language is as
much to be censured as intemperance in anything else;
like intemperance in other things, its effect is vulgarizing.</p>
<p><b>Execute.</b> This word means to follow out to the end,
to carry into effect, to accomplish, to fulfill, to perform;<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></SPAN></span>
as, to execute an order, to execute a purpose. And the
dictionaries and almost universal usage say that it also
means to put to death in conformity with a judicial sentence;
as, to execute a criminal. Some of our careful
speakers, however, maintain that the use of the word in
this sense is indefensible. They say that <i>laws</i> and <i>sentences</i>
are executed, but not <i>criminals</i>, and that their execution
only rarely results in the death of the persons upon whom
they are executed. In the hanging of a criminal, it is, then,
not the criminal who is executed, but the law and the sentence.
The criminal is <i>hanged</i>.</p>
<p><b>Expect.</b> This verb always has reference to what is to
come, never to what is past. We can not <i>expect</i> backward.
Instead, therefore, of saying, "I <i>expect</i>, you thought
I would come to see you yesterday," we should say, "I
<i>suppose</i>," etc.</p>
<p><b>Experience.</b> "We <i>experience</i> great difficulty in getting
him to take his medicine." The word <i>have</i> ought to
be big enough, in a sentence like this, for anybody. "We
<i>experienced</i> great hardships." Better, "We <i>suffered</i>."</p>
<p><b>Extend.</b> This verb, the primary meaning of which is
to stretch out, is used, especially by lovers of big words, in
connections where to give, to show, or to offer would be
preferable. For example, it is certainly better to say,
"They <i>showed</i> me every courtesy," than "They <i>extended</i>
every courtesy to me." See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Every">Every</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>False Grammar.</b> Some examples of false grammar
will show what every one is the better for knowing: that
in literature nothing should be taken on trust; that errors
of grammar even are found where we should least expect
them. "I do not know whether the imputation <i>were</i> just
or not."—Emerson. "I proceeded to inquire if the 'extract'
... <i>were</i> a veritable quotation."—Emerson. Should<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></SPAN></span>
be <i>was</i> in both cases. "How <i>sweet</i> the moonlight sleeps!"—Townsend,
"Art of Speech," vol. i, p. 114. Should be
<i>sweetly</i>. "There is no question <i>but</i> these arts ... will
greatly aid him," etc.—Ibid., p. 130. Should be <i>that</i>. "Nearly
all who have been distinguished in literature or oratory
have made ... the generous confession that their attainments
<i>have been</i> reached through patient and laborious industry.
They have declared that speaking and writing,
though once difficult for them, <i>have become</i> well-nigh recreations."—Ibid.,
p. 143. The <i>have been</i> should be <i>were</i>, and
the <i>have become</i> should be <i>became</i>. "Many pronominal adverbs
are correlatives of <i>each other</i>."—Harkness's "New
Latin Grammar," p. 147. Should be <i>one another</i>. "Hot
and cold springs, boiling springs, and quiet springs lie within
a few feet of <i>each other</i>, but <i>none of them are properly
geysers</i>."—Appletons' "Condensed Cyclopædia," vol. ii, p.
414. Should be <i>one another</i>, and <i>not one of them is properly a
geyser</i>. "How much better for you as seller and the nation
as buyer ... than to sink ... in cutting <i>one another's</i>
throats." Should be <i>each other's</i>. "A minister, noted for
prolixity of style, was once preaching before the inmates of
a lunatic asylum. In one of his illustrations he painted a
scene of a man condemned to be hung, but reprieved under
the gallows." These two sentences are so faulty that the
only way to mend them is to rewrite them. They are from
a work that professes to teach the "art of speech." Mended:
"A minister, noted for his prolixity, once <i>preached</i> before
the inmates of a lunatic asylum. By way of illustration
he painted a scene in which a man, <i>who had been</i>
condemned to be <i>hanged</i>, <i>was</i> reprieved under the gallows."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Female" id="Female"></SPAN>Female.</b> The terms <i>male</i> and <i>female</i> are not unfrequently
used where good taste would suggest some other
word. For example, we see over the doors of school-houses,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></SPAN></span>
"Entrance for males," "Entrance for females."
Now bucks and bulls are males as well as boys and men,
and cows and sows are females as well as girls and women.</p>
<p><b>Fetch.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Bring">Bring</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Fewer.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Less">Less</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Final Completion.</b> If there were such a thing as a
plurality or a series of completions, there would, of course,
be such a thing as the <i>final</i> completion; but, as every
completion is final, to talk about a <i>final completion</i> is as
absurd as it would be to talk about a <i>final finality</i>.</p>
<p><b>First rate.</b> There are people who object to this phrase,
and yet it is well enough when properly placed, as it is, for
example, in such a sentence as this: "He's a 'first class'
fellow, and I like him <i>first rate</i>; if I didn't, 'you bet' I'd
just give him 'hail Columbia' for 'blowing' the thing
all round town like the big fool that he is."</p>
<p><b>Firstly.</b> George Washington Moon says in defense of
<i>firstly</i>: "I do not object to the occasional use of <i>first</i> as
an adverb; but, in sentences where it would be followed
by <i>secondly</i>, <i>thirdly</i>, etc., I think that the adverbial form is
preferable." To this, one of Mr. Moon's critics replies:
"However desirable it may be to employ the word <i>firstly</i>
on certain occasions, the fact remains that the employment
of it on any occasion is not the best usage." Webster inserts
<i>firstly</i>, but remarks, "Improperly used for <i>first</i>."</p>
<p><b>Flee—Fly.</b> These verbs, though near of kin, are not
interchangeable. For example, we can not say, "He <i>flew</i>
the city," "He <i>flew</i> from his enemies," "He <i>flew</i> at the approach
of danger," <i>flew</i> being the imperfect tense of <i>to fly</i>,
which is properly used to express the action of birds on
the wing, of kites, arrows, etc. The imperfect tense of <i>to
flee</i> is <i>fled</i>; hence, "He <i>fled</i> the city," etc.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Forcible-feeble" id="Forcible-feeble"></SPAN>Forcible-feeble.</b> This is a "novicy" kind of diction<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></SPAN></span>
in which the would-be forcible writer defeats his object by
the overuse of expletives. Examples: "And yet the <i>great</i>
centralization of wealth is one of the [great] evils of the
day. All that Mr. —— <i>utters</i> [says] upon this point is
<i>forcible and</i> just. This centralization is due to the <i>enormous</i>
reproductive power of capital, to the <i>immense</i> advantage
that <i>costly and complicated</i> machinery gives to <i>great</i>
[large] establishments, and to <i>the marked</i> difference of personal
force among men." The first <i>great</i> is misplaced; the
word <i>utters</i> is misused; the second <i>great</i> is ill-chosen. The
other words in italics only enfeeble the sentence. Again:
"In countries where <i>immense</i> [large] estates exist, a breaking
up of these <i>vast</i> demesnes into <i>many</i> minor freeholds would
no doubt be a [of] <i>very</i> great advantage." Substitute <i>large</i>
for <i>immense</i>, and take out <i>vast</i>, <i>many</i>, and <i>very</i>, and the
language becomes much more forcible. Again: "The <i>very</i>
first effect of the —— taxation plan would be destructive
to the interests of this <i>great multitude</i> [class]; it would impoverish
our <i>innumerable</i> farmers, <i>it would</i> confiscate the
earnings of [our] <i>industrious</i> tradesmen and artisans, <i>it
would</i> [and] paralyze the hopes of <i>struggling</i> millions."
What a waste of portly expletives is here! With them the
sentence is high-flown and weak; take them out, and introduce
the words inclosed in brackets, and it becomes
simple and forcible.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Friend" id="Friend"></SPAN>Friend—Acquaintance.</b> Some philosopher has said
that he who has half a dozen friends in the course of his
life may esteem himself fortunate; and yet, to judge from
many people's talk, one would suppose they had friends by
the score. No man knows whether he has any friends or
not until he has "their adoption tried"; hence, he who is
desirous to call things by their right names will, as a rule,
use the word <i>acquaintance</i> instead of <i>friend</i>. "Your friend"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></SPAN></span>
is a favorite and very objectionable way many people, especially
young people, have of writing themselves at the
bottom of their letters. In this way the obscure stripling
protests himself the <span class="smcap">friend</span> of the first man in the land,
and that, too, when he is, perhaps, a comparative stranger
and asking a favor.</p>
<p><b>Galsome.</b> Here is a good, sonorous Anglo-Saxon word—meaning
malignant, venomous, churlish—that has fallen
into disuse.</p>
<p><b>Gentleman.</b> Few things are in worse taste than to use
the term <i>gentleman</i>, whether in the singular or plural, to
designate the sex. "If I was a <i>gentleman</i>," says Miss
Snooks. "<i>Gentlemen</i> have just as much curiosity as <i>ladies</i>,"
says Mrs. Jenkins. "<i>Gentlemen</i> have so much more liberty
than we <i>ladies</i> have," says Mrs. Parvenue. Now, if these
ladies were ladies, they would in each of these cases use the
word <i>man</i> instead of <i>gentleman</i>, and <i>woman</i> instead of <i>lady</i>;
further, Miss Snooks would say, "If I <i>were</i>." Well-bred
men, men of culture and refinement—gentlemen, in short—use
the terms <i>lady</i> and <i>gentleman</i> comparatively little, and
they are especially careful not to call themselves <i>gentlemen</i>
when they can avoid it. A gentleman, for example, does
not say, "I, with some <i>other</i> gentlemen, went," etc.; he is
careful to leave out the word <i>other</i>. The men who use
these terms most, and especially those who lose no opportunity
to proclaim themselves <i>gentlemen</i>, belong to that class
of men who cock their hats on one side of their heads, and
often wear them when and where gentlemen would remove
them; who pride themselves on their familiarity with the
latest slang; who proclaim their independence by showing
the least possible consideration for others; who laugh long
and loud at their own wit; who wear a profusion of cheap
finery, such as outlandish watch-chains hooked in the lowest<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></SPAN></span>
button-hole of their vests, Brazilian diamonds in their
shirt-bosoms, and big seal-rings on their little fingers; who
use bad grammar and interlard their conversation with big
oaths. In business correspondence Smith is addressed as
<i>Sir</i>, while Smith & Brown are often addressed as <i>Gentlemen</i>—or,
vulgarly, as <i>Gents</i>. Better, much, is it to address
them as <i>Sirs</i>.</p>
<p>Since writing the foregoing, I have met with the following
paragraph in the London publication, "All the Year
Round": "Socially, the term 'gentleman' has become almost
vulgar. It is certainly less employed by gentlemen
than by inferior persons. The one speaks of 'a man I
know,' the other of 'a gentleman I know.' In the one
case the gentleman is taken for granted, in the other it
seems to need specification. Again, as regards the term
'lady.' It is quite in accordance with the usages of society
to speak of your acquaintance the duchess as 'a very nice
person.' People who would say 'very nice lady' are not
generally of a social class which has much to do with
duchesses; and if you speak of one of these as a 'person,'
you will soon be made to feel your mistake."</p>
<p><b>Gents.</b> Of all vulgarisms, this is, perhaps, the most
offensive. If we say <i>gents</i>, why not say <i>lades</i>?</p>
<p><b>Gerund.</b> "'I have work <i>to do</i>,' 'there is no more <i>to
say</i>,' are phrases where the verb is not in the common infinitive,
but in the form of the <i>gerund</i>. 'He is the man <i>to
do</i> it, or <i>for doing</i> it.' 'A house <i>to let</i>,' 'the course <i>to steer</i>
by,' 'a place <i>to lie</i> in,' 'a thing <i>to be</i> done,' 'a city <i>to take</i>
refuge in,' 'the means <i>to do</i> ill deeds,' are adjective gerunds;
they may be expanded into clauses: 'a house that the
owner lets or will let'; 'the course that we should steer
by'; 'a thing that should be done'; 'a city wherein one
may take refuge'; 'the means whereby ill deeds may be<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></SPAN></span>
done.' When the <i>to</i> ceased in the twelfth century to be
a distinctive mark of the dative infinitive or gerund, <i>for</i>
was introduced to make the writer's intention clear. Hence
the familiar form in 'what went ye out <i>for to see</i>?' 'they
came <i>for to show</i> him the temple.'"—Bain.</p>
<p><b>Get.</b> In sentences expressing simple possession—as, "I
have <i>got</i> a book," "What has he <i>got</i> there?" "Have you
<i>got</i> any news?" "They have <i>got</i> a new house," etc.—<i>got</i>
is entirely superfluous, if not, as some writers contend, absolutely
incorrect. Possession is completely expressed by
<i>have</i>. "Foxes have holes; the birds of the air have
nests"; not, "Foxes have <i>got</i> holes; the birds of the air
have <i>got</i> nests." Formerly the imperfect tense of this verb
was <i>gat</i>, which is now obsolete, and the perfect participle
was <i>gotten</i>, which, some grammarians say, is growing obsolete.
If this be true, there is no good reason for it. If we
say <i>eaten</i>, <i>written</i>, <i>striven</i>, <i>forgotten</i>, why not say <i>gotten</i>,
where this form of the participle is more euphonious—as it
often is—than <i>got</i>?</p>
<p><b>Goods.</b> This term, like other terms used in trade, should
be restricted to the vocabulary of commerce. Messrs. Arnold
& Constable, in common with the Washington Market
huckster, very properly speak of their wares as their <i>goods</i>;
but Mrs. Arnold and Mrs. Constable should, and I doubt
not do, speak of their gowns as being made of fine or
coarse <i>silk</i>, <i>cashmere</i>, <i>muslin</i>, or whatever the material
may be.</p>
<p><b>Gould against Alford.</b> Mr. Edward S. Gould, in his
review of Dean Alford's "Queen's English," remarks, on
page 131 of his "Good English": "And now, as to the
style<SPAN name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</SPAN> of the Dean's book, taken as a whole. He must be
held responsible for every error in it; because, as has been<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></SPAN></span>
shown, he has had full leisure for its revision.<SPAN name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</SPAN> The errors
are, nevertheless, numerous; and the shortest way to exhibit
them is<SPAN name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</SPAN> in tabular form." In several instances Mr.
Gould would not have taken the Dean to task had he
known English better. The following are a few of Mr.
Gould's corrections in which he is clearly in the right:</p>
<p>Paragraph</p>
<p>4. "Into <i>another</i> land <i>than</i>"; should be, "into a land
<i>other than</i>."</p>
<p>16. "We do not follow rule in spelling other words,
but custom"; should be, "we do not follow <i>rule, but custom</i>,
in spelling," etc.</p>
<p>18. "The distinction is observed in French, but <i>never
appears</i> to have been made," etc.; read, "<i>appears never</i> to
have been made."</p>
<p>61. "<i>Rather</i> to aspirate more <i>than</i> less"; should be,
"to aspirate more <i>rather than</i> less."</p>
<p>9. "It is said also <i>only</i> to occur three times," etc.;
read, "<i>occur only</i> three times."</p>
<p>44. "This doubling <i>only takes place</i> in a syllable," etc.;
read, "<i>takes place only</i>."</p>
<p>142. "Which can <i>only</i> be decided when those circumstances
are known"; read, "<i>can be decided only</i> when,"
etc.</p>
<p>166. "I will <i>only</i> say that it produces," etc.; read, "I
will <i>say only</i>," etc.</p>
<p>170. "It is said that this can <i>only</i> be filled in thus";
read, "can be <i>filled in only</i> thus."</p>
<p>368. "I can <i>only</i> deal with the complaint in a general
way"; read, "<i>deal with the complaint only</i>," etc.</p>
<p>86. "<i>In</i> so far as they are idiomatic," etc. What is the
use of <i>in</i>?</p>
<p>171. "Try the experiment"; "<i>tried</i> the experiment."
Read, <i>make</i> and <i>made</i>.</p>
<p>345. "It is <i>most</i> generally used of that very sect," etc.
Why <i>most</i>?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>362. "The joining together two clauses with a third,"
etc.; read, "<i>of two</i> clauses," etc.</p>
<p><b>Gown.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Dress">Dress</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Graduated.</b> Students do not <i>graduate</i>; they <i>are</i> graduated.
Hence most writers nowadays say, "I <i>was</i>, he
<i>was</i>, or they <i>were</i> graduated"; and ask, "When <i>were</i> you,
or <i>was</i> he, graduated?"</p>
<p><b>Grammatical Errors.</b> "The correctness of the expression
<i>grammatical errors</i> has been disputed. 'How,' it
has been asked, 'can an error be grammatical?' How, it
may be replied, can we with propriety say, <i>grammatically
incorrect</i>? Yet we can do so.</p>
<p>"No one will question the propriety of saying <i>grammatically
correct</i>. Yet the expression is the acknowledgment
of things <i>grammatically <span class="smcap">in</span>correct</i>. Likewise the phrase
<i>grammatical correctness</i> implies the existence of <i>grammatical
<span class="smcap">in</span>correctness</i>. If, then, a sentence is <i>grammatically incorrect</i>,
or, what is the same thing, has <i>grammatical incorrectness</i>, it
includes a <span class="smcap">grammatical error</span>. <i>Grammatically incorrect</i>
signifies <span class="smcap">incorrect with relation to the rules of
grammar.</span> <i>Grammatical errors</i> signifies <span class="smcap">errors with relation
to the rules of grammar</span>.</p>
<p>"They who ridicule the phrase <i>grammatical errors</i>, and
substitute the phrase <i>errors in grammar</i>, make an egregious
mistake. Can there, it may be asked with some show of
reason, be an error in grammar? Why, grammar is a
science founded in our nature, referable to our ideas of
time, relation, method; imperfect, doubtless, as to the system
by which it is represented; but surely we can speak
of error in that which is error's criterion! All this is
hypercritical, but hypercriticism must be met with its own
weapons.</p>
<p>"Of the two expressions—<i>a grammatical error</i>, and <i>an</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></SPAN></span>
<i>error in grammar</i>—the former is preferable. If one's judgment
can accept neither, one must relinquish the belief in
the possibility of tersely expressing the idea of an offense
against grammatical rules. Indeed, it would be difficult
to express the idea even by circumlocution. Should some
one say, 'This sentence is, according to the rules of grammar,
incorrect.' 'What!' the hypercritic may exclaim, 'incorrect!
and according to the rules of grammar!' 'This
sentence, then,' the corrected person would reply, 'contains
an error in grammar.' 'Nonsense!' the hypercritic may
shout, 'grammar is a science; you may be wrong in its
interpretation, but principles are immutable!'</p>
<p>"After this, it need scarcely be added that, grammatically,
no one can make a mistake, that there can be no
grammatical mistake, that there can be no bad grammar,
and, consequently, no bad English; a very pleasant conclusion,
which would save us a great amount of trouble if it
did not lack the insignificant quality of being true."—"Vulgarisms
and Other Errors of Speech."</p>
<p><b>Gratuitous.</b> There are those who object to the use of
this word in the sense of unfounded, unwarranted, unreasonable,
untrue. Its use in this sense, however, has the sanction
of abundant authority. "Weak and <i>gratuitous</i> conjectures."—Porson.
"A <i>gratuitous</i> assumption."—Godwin.
"The <i>gratuitous</i> theory."—Southey. "A <i>gratuitous</i> invention."—De
Quincey. "But it is needless to dwell on the
improbability of a hypothesis which has been shown to be
altogether <i>gratuitous</i>."—Dr. Newman.</p>
<p><b>Grow.</b> This verb originally meant to increase in size,
but has normally come to be also used to express a change
from one state or condition to another; as, to <i>grow</i> dark, to
<i>grow</i> weak or strong, to <i>grow</i> faint, etc. But it is doubtful
whether what is large can properly be said to <i>grow</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></SPAN></span>
small. In this sense, <i>become</i> would seem to be the better
word.</p>
<p><b>Gums.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Rubbers">Rubbers</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Had have.</b> Nothing could be more incorrect than the
bringing together of these two auxiliary verbs in this manner;
and yet we occasionally find it in writers of repute.
Instead of "Had I known it," "Had you seen it," "Had
we been there," we hear, "Had I <i>have</i> known it," "Had
you <i>have</i> seen it," "Had we <i>have</i> been there."</p>
<p><b>Had ought.</b> This is a vulgarism of the worst description,
yet we hear people, who would be highly indignant
if any one should intimate that they were not ladies and
gentlemen, say, "He <i>had</i> ought to go." A fitting reply
would be, "Yes, I think he better had." <i>Ought</i> says all
that <i>had ought</i> says.</p>
<p><b>Had rather.</b> This expression and <i>had better</i> are much
used, but, in the opinion of many, are indefensible. We
hear them in such sentences as, "I <i>had</i> rather not do it,"
"You <i>had</i> better go home." "Now, what tense," it is asked,
"is <i>had do</i> and <i>had go</i>?" If we transpose the words thus,
"You <i>had do</i> better (to) go home," it becomes at once apparent,
it is asserted, that the proper word to use in connection
with <i>rather</i> and <i>better</i> is not <i>had</i>, but <i>would</i>; thus, "I <i>would</i>
rather not do it," "You <i>would</i> better go home." Examples
of this use of <i>had</i> can be found in the writings of our best
authors. For what Professor Bain has to say on this subject
in his "Composition Grammar," see <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Subjunctive_Mood">Subjunctive
Mood</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Half.</b> "It might have been expressed in <i>one</i> half the
space." We see at a glance that <i>one</i> here is superfluous.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Hanged" id="Hanged"></SPAN>Hanged—Hung.</b> The irregular form, <i>hung</i>, of the
past participle of the verb <i>to hang</i> is most used; but, when
the word denotes suspension by the neck for the purpose of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></SPAN></span>
destroying life, the regular form, <i>hanged</i>, is always used by
careful writers and speakers.</p>
<p><b>Haste.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Hurry">Hurry</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Heading.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Caption">Caption</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Healthy" id="Healthy"></SPAN>Healthy—Wholesome.</b> The first of these two words
is often improperly used for the second; as, "Onions are a
<i>healthy</i> vegetable." A man, if he is in good health, is <i>healthy</i>;
the food he eats, if it is not deleterious, is <i>wholesome</i>.
A <i>healthy</i> ox makes <i>wholesome</i> food. We speak of <i>healthy</i>
surroundings, a <i>healthy</i> climate, situation, employment, and
of <i>wholesome</i> food, advice, examples. <i>Healthful</i> is generally
used in the sense of conducive to health, virtue, morality;
as, <i>healthful</i> exercise, the <i>healthful</i> spirit of the community—meaning
that the spirit that prevails in the community
is conducive to virtue and good morals.</p>
<p><b>Helpmate.</b> The dictionaries suggest that this word is
a corruption of <i>help</i> and <i>meet</i>, as we find these words used
in Gen. ii, 18, "I will make him a help meet for him," and
that the proper word is <i>helpmeet</i>. If, as is possible, the
words in Genesis mean, "I will make him a help, meet
[suitable] for him," then neither <i>helpmate</i> nor <i>helpmeet</i> has
any <i>raison d'être</i>.</p>
<p><b>Highfalutin.</b> This is a style of writing often called the
freshman style. It is much indulged in by very young men,
and by a class of older men who instinctively try to make
up in clatter for what they lack in matter. Examples of this
kind of writing are abundant in Professor L. T. Townsend's
"Art of Speech," which, as examples, are all the better for
not being of that exaggerated description sometimes met
within the newspapers. Vol. i, p. 131: "Very often adverbs,
prepositions, and relatives drift so far from their moorings
as to lose themselves, or make attachments where they
do not belong." Again, p. 135: "Every law of speech enforces<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></SPAN></span>
the statement that there is no excuse for such inflated
and defective style. [Such style!] To speak thus is treason
in the realms and under the laws of language." Again,
p. 175: "Cultivate figure-making habitudes. This is done
by asking the spiritual import of every physical object
seen; also by forming the habit of constantly metaphorizing.
Knock at the door of anything met which interests,
and ask, 'Who lives here?' The process is to look, then
close the eyes, then look within." The blundering inanity
of this kind of writing is equaled only by its bumptious
grandiloquence. On p. 137 Dr. Townsend quotes
this wholesome admonition from Coleridge: "If men
would only say what they have to say in plain terms, how
much more eloquent they would be!" As an example of
reportorial highfalutin, I submit the following: "The spirit
of departed day had joined communion with the myriad
ghosts of centuries, and four full hours fled into eternity
before the citizens of many parts of the town found out
there was a freshet here at all."</p>
<p><b>Hints.</b> "Never write about any matter that you do
not well understand. If you clearly understand all about
your matter, you will never want thoughts, and thoughts
instantly become words.</p>
<p>"One of the greatest of all faults in writing and in
speaking is this: the using of many words to <i>say little</i>.
In order to guard yourself against this fault, inquire what is
the <i>substance</i>, or <i>amount</i>, of what you have said. Take a
long speech of some talking Lord and put down upon paper
what the amount of it is. You will most likely find that
the <i>amount</i> is very small; but at any rate, when you
get it, you will then be able to examine it and to tell
what it is worth. A very few examinations of the sort
will so frighten you that you will be for ever after upon<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></SPAN></span>
your guard against <i>talking a great deal</i> and <i>saying little</i>."—Cobbett.</p>
<p>"Be simple, be unaffected, be honest in your speaking and
writing. Never use a long word where a short one will do.
Call a spade <i>a spade</i>, not a <i>well-known oblong instrument
of manual husbandry</i>; let home be <i>home</i>, not a <i>residence</i>;
a place a <i>place</i>, not a <i>locality</i>; and so of the rest. Where
a short word will do, you always lose by using a long one.
You lose in clearness; you lose in honest expression of
your meaning; and, in the estimation of all men who are
qualified to judge, you lose in reputation for ability. The
only true way to shine, even in this false world, is to be
modest and unassuming. Falsehood may be a very thick
crust, but, in the course of time, truth will find a place to
break through. Elegance of language may not be in the
power of all of us; but simplicity and straightforwardness
are. Write much as you would speak; speak as you think.
If with your inferiors, speak no coarser than usual; if with
your superiors, no finer. Be what you say; and, within
the rules of prudence, say what you are."—Dean Alford.</p>
<p>"Go critically over what you have written, and strike
out every word, phrase, and clause which it is found will
leave the sentence neither less clear nor less forcible than
it is without them."—Swinton.</p>
<p>"With all watchfulness, it is astonishing what slips are
made, even by good writers, in the employment of an inappropriate
word. In Gibbon's 'Rise and Fall,' the following
instance occurs: 'Of nineteen tyrants who started up
after the reign of Gallienus, there was not one who <i>enjoyed</i>
a life of peace or a natural <i>death</i>.' Alison, in his 'History
of Europe,' writes: 'Two great sins—one of <i>omission</i>
and one of commission—have been <i>committed</i> by the states
of Europe in modern times.' And not long since a worthy<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></SPAN></span>
Scotch minister, at the close of the services, intimated his
intention of visiting some of his people as follows: 'I
intend, during this week, to visit in Mr. M——'s district,
and will on this occasion take the opportunity of <i>embracing</i>
all the servants in the district.' When worthies such as
these offend, who shall call the bellman in question as he
cries, 'Lost, a silver-handled silk lady's parasol'?</p>
<p>"The proper arrangement of words into sentences and
paragraphs gives clearness and strength. To attain a clear
and pithy style, it may be necessary to cut down, to rearrange,
and to rewrite whole passages of an essay. Gibbon
wrote his 'Memoirs' six times, and the first chapter of
his 'History' three times. Beginners are always slow to
prune or cast away any thought or expression which may
have cost labor. They forget that brevity is no sign of
thoughtlessness. Much consideration is needed to compress
the details of any subject into small compass. Essences
are more difficult to prepare, and therefore more
valuable, than weak solutions. Pliny wrote to one of his
friends, 'I have not time to write you a short letter, therefore
I have written you a long one.' Apparent elaborateness
is always distasteful and weak. Vividness and strength
are the product of an easy command of those small trenchant
Saxon monosyllables which abound in the English language."—"Leisure
Hour."</p>
<p>"As a rule, the student will do well to banish for
the present all thought of ornament or elegance, and to
aim only at expressing himself plainly and clearly. The
best ornament is always that which comes unsought. Let
him not beat about the bush, but go straight to the point.
Let him remember that what is written is meant to be
read; that time is short; and that—other things being
equal—the fewer words the better.... Repetition is a far<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></SPAN></span>
less serious fault than obscurity. Young writers are often
unduly afraid of repeating the same word, and require to
be reminded that it is always better to use the right word
over again than to replace it by a wrong one—and a word
which is liable to be misunderstood is a wrong one. A
frank repetition of a word has even sometimes a kind of
charm—as bearing the stamp of <i>truth</i>, the foundation of all
excellence of style."—Hall.</p>
<p>"A young writer is afraid to be simple; he has no
faith in beauty unadorned, hence he crowds his sentences
with superlatives. In his estimation, turgidity passes for
eloquence, and simplicity is but another name for that
which is weak and unmeaning."—George Washington
Moon.</p>
<p><b>Honorable.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Reverend">Reverend</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>How.</b> "I have heard <i>how</i> in Italy one is beset on all
sides by beggars": read, "heard <i>that</i>." "I have heard
<i>how</i> some critics have been pacified with claret and a supper,
and others laid asleep with soft notes of flattery."—Dr.
Johnson. The <i>how</i> in this sentence also should be <i>that</i>.
<i>How</i> means the <i>manner in which</i>. We may, therefore,
say, "I have heard <i>how</i> he went about it to circumvent
you."</p>
<p>"And it is good judgment alone can dictate <i>how far</i>
to proceed in it and <i>when</i> to stop." Cobbett comments
on this sentence in this wise: "Dr. Watts is speaking here
of writing. In such a case, an adverb, like <i>how far</i>, expressive
of longitudinal space, introduces a <i>rhetorical figure</i>;
for the plain meaning is, that judgment will dictate <i>how
much to write on it</i> and not <i>how far to proceed in it</i>. The
figure, however, is very proper and much better than the
literal words. But when a figure is <i>begun</i> it should be carried
on throughout, which is not the case here; for the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></SPAN></span>
Doctor begins with a figure of longitudinal space and ends
with a figure of <i>time</i>. It should have been, <i>where</i> to stop.
Or, how <i>long</i> to proceed in it and <i>when</i> to stop. To tell a
man <i>how far</i> he is to go into the Western countries of
America, and <i>when</i> he is to stop, is a very different thing
from telling him <i>how far</i> he is to go and <i>where</i> he is to
stop. I have dwelt thus on this distinction for the purpose
of putting you on the watch and guarding you against confounding
figures. The less you use them the better, till
you understand more about them."</p>
<p><b>Humanitarianism.</b> This word, in its original, theological
sense, means the doctrine that denies the godhead
of Jesus Christ, and avers that he was possessed of a human
nature only; a <i>humanitarian</i>, therefore, in the theological
sense, is one who believes this doctrine. The word
and its derivatives are, however, nowadays, both in this
country and in England, most used in a humane, philanthropic
sense; thus, "The audience enthusiastically endorsed
the <i>humanitarianism</i> of his eloquent discourse."—Hatton.</p>
<p><b>Hung.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Hanged">Hanged</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Hurry" id="Hurry"></SPAN>Hurry.</b> Though widely different in meaning, both the
verb and the noun <i>hurry</i> are continually used for <i>haste</i> and
<i>hasten</i>. <i>Hurry</i> implies not only <i>haste</i>, but haste with confusion,
flurry; while <i>haste</i> implies only rapidity of action,
an eager desire to make progress, and, unlike <i>hurry</i>, is not
incompatible with deliberation and dignity. It is often
wise to <i>hasten</i> in the affairs of life; but, as it is never wise
to proceed without forethought and method, it is never
wise to <i>hurry</i>. Sensible people, then, may be often in
<i>haste</i>, but are never in a <i>hurry</i>; and we tell others to <i>make
haste</i>, and not to <i>hurry up</i>.</p>
<p><b>Hyperbole.</b> The magnifying of things beyond their<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></SPAN></span>
natural limits is called <i>hyperbole</i>. Language that signifies,
literally, more than the exact truth, more than is really intended
to be represented, by which a thing is represented
greater or less, better or worse than it really is, is said to
be <i>hyperbolical</i>. Hyperbole is exaggeration.</p>
<p>"Our common forms of compliment are almost all of
them extravagant <i>hyperboles</i>."—Blair.</p>
<p>Some examples are the following:</p>
<p>"Rivers of blood and hills of slain."</p>
<p>"They were swifter than eagles; they were stronger than lions."</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"The sky shrunk upward with unusual dread,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And trembling Tiber div'd beneath his bed."<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"So frowned the mighty combatants, that hell<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Grew darker at their frown."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"I saw their chief tall as a rock of ice; his spear the
blasted fir; his shield the rising moon; he sat on the shore
like a cloud of mist on a hill."</p>
<p><b>Ice-cream—Ice-water.</b> As for ice-cream, there is no
such thing, as ice-cream would be the product of frozen
cream, i. e., cream made from ice by melting. What is
called ice-cream is cream <i>iced</i>; hence, properly, <i>iced</i> cream
and not <i>ice</i>-cream. The product of melted ice is <i>ice</i>-water,
whether it be cold or warm; but water made cold with ice
is <i>iced</i> water, and not <i>ice</i>-water.</p>
<p><b>If.</b> "I doubt <i>if</i> this will ever reach you": say, "I
doubt <i>whether</i> this will ever reach you."</p>
<p><b>Ill.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Sick">Sick</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Illy.</b> It will astonish not a few to learn that there is
no such word as <i>illy</i>. The form of the adverb, as well as
of the adjective and the noun, is <i>ill</i>. A thing is <i>ill</i> formed,
or <i>ill</i> done, or <i>ill</i> made, or <i>ill</i> constructed, or <i>ill</i> put together.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></SPAN></span></p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"<i>Ill</i> fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Where wealth accumulates and men decay."—Goldsmith.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><b><SPAN name="Immodest" id="Immodest"></SPAN>Immodest.</b> This adjective and its synonyms, <i>indecent</i>
and <i>indelicate</i>, are often used without proper discrimination
being made in their respective meanings. <i>Indecency</i> and
<i>immodesty</i> are opposed to morality: the former in externals,
as dress, words, and looks; the latter in conduct and disposition.
"<i>Indecency</i>," says Crabb, "may be a partial,
<i>immodesty</i> is a positive and entire breach of the moral law.
<i>Indecency</i> is less than <i>immodesty</i>, but more than <i>indelicacy</i>."
It is <i>indecent</i> for a man to marry again very soon after the
death of his wife. It is <i>indelicate</i> for any one to obtrude
himself upon another's retirement. It is <i>indecent</i> for women
to expose their persons as do some whom we can not
call <i>immodest</i>.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Immodest words admit of no defense,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">For want of decency is want of sense."<br/></span>
<span class="i9">—Earl of Roscommon.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><b>Impropriety.</b> As a rhetorical term, defined as an
error in using words in a sense different from their recognized
signification.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Impute" id="Impute"></SPAN>Impute.</b> Non-painstaking writers not unfrequently use
<i>impute</i> instead of <i>ascribe</i>. "The numbers [of blunders]
that have been <i>imputed</i> to him are endless."—"Appletons'
Journal." The use of <i>impute</i> in this connection is by no
means indefensible; still it would have been better to use
<i>ascribe</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="In_our_midst" id="In_our_midst"></SPAN>In our midst.</b> The phrases <i>in our midst</i> and <i>in their
midst</i> are generally supposed to be of recent introduction;
and, though they have been used by some respectable
writers, they nevertheless find no favor with those who
study propriety in the use of language. To the phrase
<i>in the midst</i> no one objects. "Jesus came and stood<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></SPAN></span>
in the midst." "There was a hut <i>in the midst</i> of the
forest."</p>
<p><b>In respect of.</b> "The deliberate introduction of incorrect
forms, whether by the coinage of new or the revival
of obsolete and inexpressive syntactical combinations, ought
to be resisted even in trifles, especially where it leads to
the confusion of distinct ideas. An example of this is the
recent use of the adverbial phrases <i>in respect of</i>, <i>in regard
of</i>, for <i>in</i> or <i>with</i> respect <i>to</i>, or regard <i>to</i>. This innovation
is without any syntactical ground, and ought to be condemned
and avoided as a mere grammatical crotchet."—George
P. Marsh, "Lectures on the English Language,"
p. 660.</p>
<p><b>In so far as.</b> A phrase often met with, and in which
the <i>in</i> is superfluous. "A want of proper opportunity
would suffice, <i>in</i> so far as the want could be shown." "We
are to act up to the extent of our knowledge; but, <i>in</i> so far
as our knowledge falls short," etc.</p>
<p><b>Inaugurate.</b> This word, which means to install in
office with certain ceremonies, is made, by many lovers of
big words, to do service for <i>begin</i>; but the sooner these
rhetorical high-fliers stop <i>inaugurating</i> and content themselves
with simply <i>beginning</i> the things they are called
upon to do in the ordinary routine of daily life, the sooner
they will cease to set a very bad example.</p>
<p><b>Indecent.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Immodest">Immodest</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Index_expurgatorius" id="Index_expurgatorius"></SPAN>Index expurgatorius.</b> William Cullen Bryant, who
was a careful student of English, while he was editor of the
"New York Evening Post," sought to prevent the writers
for that paper from using "over and above (for 'more
than'); artiste (for 'artist'); aspirant; authoress; beat (for
'defeat'); bagging (for 'capturing'); balance (for 'remainder');
banquet (for 'dinner' or 'supper'); bogus; casket<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></SPAN></span>
(for 'coffin'); claimed (for 'asserted'); collided; commence
(for 'begin'); compete; cortége (for 'procession');
cotemporary (for 'contemporary'); couple (for 'two');
darky (for 'negro'); day before yesterday (for 'the day
before yesterday'); début; decrease (as a verb); democracy
(applied to a political party); develop (for 'expose');
devouring element (for 'fire'); donate; employé; enacted
(for 'acted'); indorse (for 'approve'); en route; esq.;
graduate (for 'is graduated'); gents (for 'gentlemen');
'Hon.'; House (for 'House of Representatives'); humbug;
inaugurate (for 'begin'); in our midst; item (for
'particle, extract, or paragraph'); is being done, and all
passives of this form; jeopardize; jubilant (for 'rejoicing');
juvenile (for 'boy'); lady (for 'wife'); last (for 'latest');
lengthy (for 'long'); leniency (for 'lenity'); loafer; loan
or loaned (for 'lend' or 'lent'); located; majority (relating
to places or circumstances, for 'most'); Mrs. President,
Mrs. Governor, Mrs. General, and all similar titles; mutual
(for 'common'); official (for 'officer'); ovation; on yesterday;
over his signature; pants (for 'pantaloons'); parties
(for 'persons'); partially (for 'partly'); past two weeks
(for 'last two weeks,' and all similar expressions relating to
a definite time); poetess; portion (for 'part'); posted (for
'informed'); progress (for 'advance'); reliable (for 'trustworthy');
rendition (for 'performance'); repudiate (for
'reject' or 'disown'); retire (as an active verb); Rev. (for
'the Rev.'); rôle (for 'part'); roughs; rowdies; secesh;
sensation (for 'noteworthy event'); standpoint (for 'point
of view'); start, in the sense of setting out; state (for
'say'); taboo; talent (for 'talents' or 'ability'); talented;
tapis; the deceased; war (for 'dispute' or 'disagreement')."</p>
<p>This index is offered here as a curiosity rather than as
a guide, though in the main it might safely be used as<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></SPAN></span>
such. No valid reason, however, can be urged for discouraging
the use of several words in the list; the words aspirant,
banquet, casket, compete, decrease, progress, start,
talented, and deceased, for example.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Indicative_and_Subjunctive" id="Indicative_and_Subjunctive"></SPAN>Indicative and Subjunctive.</b> "'I <i>see</i> the signal,' is
unconditional; '<i>if</i> I <i>see</i> the signal,' is the same fact expressed
in the form of a condition. The one form is said
to be in the <i>indicative</i> mood, the mood that simply <i>states
or indicates</i> the action; the other form is in the <i>subjunctive</i>,
conditional, or conjunctive mood. There is sometimes a
slight variation made in English, to show that an affirmation
is made as a condition. The mood is called 'subjunctive,'
because the affirmation <i>is subjoined to</i> another affirmation:
'<i>If I see the signal</i>, I will call out.'</p>
<p>"Such forms as 'I may see,' 'I can see,' have sometimes
been considered as a variety of mood, to which the name
'Potential' is given. But this can not properly be maintained.
There is no trace of any inflection corresponding
to this meaning, as we find with the subjunctive. Moreover,
such a mood would have itself to be subdivided into indicative
and subjunctive forms: 'I may go,' 'if I may go.'
And further, we might proceed to constitute other moods
on the same analogy, as, for example, an obligatory mood—'I
must go,' or 'I ought to go'; a mood of resolution—'I
will go, you shall go'; a mood of gratification—'I am
delighted to go'; of deprecation—'I am grieved to go.'
The only difference in the two last instances is the use of
the sign of the infinitive 'to,' which does not occur after
'may,' 'can,' 'must,' 'ought,' etc.; but that is not an
essential difference. Some grammarians consider the form
'I do go' a separate mood, and term it the emphatic mood.
But all the above objections apply to it likewise, as well as
many others."—Bain. See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Subjunctive_Mood">Subjunctive Mood</SPAN></span>.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Individual" id="Individual"></SPAN>Individual.</b> This word is often most improperly used
for <i>person</i>; as, "The <i>individual</i> I saw was not over forty";
"There were several <i>individuals</i> on board that I had never
seen before." <i>Individual</i> means, etymologically, that which
can not be divided, and is used, in speaking of things as
well as of persons, to express unity. It is opposed to the
whole, or that which is divisible into parts.</p>
<p><b>Indorse.</b> Careful writers generally discountenance the
use of <i>indorse</i> in the sense of <i>sanction</i>, <i>approve</i>, <i>applaud</i>.
In this signification it is on the list of prohibited words in
some of our newspaper offices. "The following rules are
<i>indorsed</i> by nearly all writers upon this subject."—Dr.
Townsend. It is plain that the right word to use here is
<i>approved</i>. "The public will heartily <i>indorse</i> the sentiments
uttered by the court."—New York "Evening Telegram."
"The public will heartily <i>approve</i> the sentiments <i>expressed</i>
by the court," is what the sentence should be.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Infinitive_Mood" id="Infinitive_Mood"></SPAN>Infinitive Mood.</b> When we can choose, it is generally
better to use the verb in the infinitive than in the participial
form. "Ability being in general the power <i>of doing</i>," etc.
Say, <i>to do</i>. "I desire to reply ... to the proposal <i>of substituting</i>
a tax upon land values ... and <i>making</i> this tax, as
near [nearly] as may be, equal to rent," etc. Say, <i>to substitute</i>
and <i>to make</i>. "This quality is of prime importance
when the chief object is <i>the imparting of</i> knowledge." Say,
<i>to impart</i>.</p>
<p><b>Initiate.</b> This is a pretentious word, which, with its
derivatives, many persons—especially those who like to be
grandiloquent—use, when homely English would serve their
turn much better.</p>
<p><b>Innumerable Number.</b> A repetitional expression to be
avoided. We may say <i>innumerable</i> times, or <i>numberless</i> times,
but we should not say an <i>innumerable number</i> of times.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Interrogation.</b> The rhetorical figure that asks a question
in order to emphasize the reverse of what is asked is
called <i>interrogation</i>; as, "Do we mean to submit to this
measure? Do we mean to submit, and consent that we ourselves,
our country and its rights, shall be trampled on?"</p>
<p>"Doth God pervert judgment? or doth the Almighty
pervert justice?"</p>
<p><b>Introduce.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Present">Present</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Irony.</b> That mode of speech in which what is meant
is contrary to the literal meaning of the words—in which
praise is bestowed when censure is intended—is called <i>irony</i>.
Irony is a kind of delicate sarcasm or satire—raillery,
mockery.</p>
<p>"In writings of humor, figures are sometimes used of so
delicate a nature that it shall often happen that some people
will see things in a direct contrary sense to what the author
and the majority of the readers understand them: to such
the most innocent <i>irony</i> may appear irreligion."—Cambridge.</p>
<p><b>Irritate.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Aggravate">Aggravate</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Is_being_built" id="Is_being_built"></SPAN>Is being built.</b> A tolerable idea of the state of the discussion
regarding the propriety of using the locution <i>is
being built</i>, and all like expressions, will, it is hoped, be
obtained from the following extracts. The Rev. Peter
Bullions, in his "Grammar of the English Language," says:</p>
<p>"There is properly <i>no passive</i> form, in English, <i>corresponding
to the progressive</i> form in the <i>active</i> voice, except
where it is made by the participle <i>ing</i>, in a passive sense;
thus, 'The house is building'; 'The garments are making';
'Wheat is selling,' etc. An attempt has been made by
some grammarians, of late, to banish such expressions from
the language, though they have been used in all time past
by the best writers, and to justify and defend a clumsy solecism,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></SPAN></span>
which has been recently introduced chiefly through
the newspaper press, but which has gained such currency,
and is becoming so familiar to the ear, that it seems likely
to prevail, with all its uncouthness and deformity. I refer
to such expressions as 'The house is being built'; 'The
letter is being written'; 'The mine is being worked';
'The news is being telegraphed,' etc., etc.</p>
<p>"This mode of expression <i>had no existence</i> in the language
till <i>within the last fifty years</i>.<SPAN name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</SPAN> This, indeed, would
not make the expression wrong, were it otherwise unexceptionable;
but its recent origin shows that it is not, as is
pretended, a <i>necessary</i> form.</p>
<p>"This form of expression, when analyzed, is found not
to express what it is intended to express, and would be used
only by such as are either ignorant of its import or are
careless and loose in their use of language. To make this
manifest, let it be considered, first, that there is <i>no progressive
form</i> of the verb <i>to be</i>, and no need of it; hence, there
is no such expression in English as <i>is being</i>. Of course the
expression '<i>is being</i> built,' for example, is not a compound
of <i>is being</i> and <i>built</i>, but of <i>is</i> and <i>being built</i>; that is, of
the verb <i>to be</i> and the <i>present participle passive</i>. Now, let
it be observed that the only verbs in which the present
participle passive expresses a continued action are those
mentioned above as the first class, in which the regular
passive form expresses a <i>continuance</i> of the action; as, <i>is
loved</i>, <i>is desired</i>, etc., and in which, of course, the form in
question (<i>is being built</i>) is not required. Nobody would
think of saying, 'He is being loved'; 'This result is
being desired.'</p>
<p>"The use of this form is justified only by <i>condemning
an established usage</i> of the language; namely, the passive<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></SPAN></span>
sense in some verbs of the participle in <i>ing</i>. In reference
to this it is flippantly asked, 'What does the house
build?' 'What does the letter write?' etc.—taking for
granted, without attempting to prove, that the participle in
<i>ing</i> can not have a passive sense in any verb. The following
are a few examples from writers of the best reputation,
which this novelty would condemn: 'While the ceremony
was performing.'—Tom. Brown. 'The court was then
holding.'—Sir G. McKenzie. 'And still be doing, never
done.'—Butler. 'The books are selling.'—Allen's 'Grammar.'
'To know nothing of what is transacting in the
regions above us.'—Dr. Blair. 'The spot where this new
and strange tragedy was acting.'—E. Everett. 'The fortress
was building.'—Irving. 'An attempt is making in
the English parliament.'—D. Webster. 'The church now
erecting in the city of New York.'—'N. A. Review.'
'These things were transacting in England.'—Bancroft.</p>
<p>"This new doctrine is in <i>opposition</i> to the almost <i>unanimous
judgment</i> of the <i>most distinguished grammarians</i>
and critics, who have considered the subject, and expressed
their views concerning it. The following are a specimen:
'Expressions of this kind are condemned by some critics;
but the usage is unquestionably of far better authority, and
(according to my apprehension) in far better taste, than the
more complex phraseology which some late writers adopt
in its stead; as, "The books are now being sold."'—Goold
Brown. 'As to the notion of introducing a new and more
complex passive form of conjugation, as, "The bridge <i>is
being built</i>," "The bridge <i>was being built</i>," and so forth, it is
one of the most absurd and monstrous innovations ever
thought of. "The work <i>is now being published</i>," is certainly
no better English than, "The work <i>was being published</i>,
<i>has been being published</i>, <i>had been being published</i>,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></SPAN></span>
<i>shall or will be being published</i>, <i>shall or will have been being
published</i>," and so on through all the moods and tenses.
What a language shall we have when our verbs are thus
conjugated!'—Brown's 'Gr. of Eng. Gr.,' p. 361. De War
observes: 'The participle in <i>ing</i> is also passive in many
instances; as, "The house is building," "I heard of a
plan forming,"' etc.—Quoted in 'Frazee's Grammar,' p.
49. 'It would be an absurdity, indeed, to give up the only
way we have of denoting the incomplete state of action by
a passive form (viz., by the participle in <i>ing</i> in the passive
sense).'—Arnold's 'English Grammar,' p. 46. 'The present
participle is often used passively; as, "The ship is
building." The form of expression, <i>is being built</i>, <i>is being
committed</i>, etc., is almost universally condemned by grammarians,
but it is sometimes met with in respectable writers;
it occurs most frequently in newspaper paragraphs and in
hasty compositions. See Worcester's "Universal and Critical
Dictionary."'—Weld's 'Grammar,' pp. 118 and 180.
'When we say, "The house is building," the advocates of
the new theory ask, "Building what?" We might ask, in
turn, when you say, "The field ploughs well,"—"Ploughs
what?" "Wheat sells well,"—"Sells what?" If usage allows
us to say, "Wheat sells at a dollar," in a sense that is
not active, why may we not say, "Wheat is selling at a dollar,"
in a sense that is not active?'—Hart's 'Grammar,'
p. 76. 'The prevailing practice of the best authors is in
favor of the simple form; as, "The house is building."'—Wells'
'School Grammar,' p. 148. 'Several other expressions
of this sort now and then occur, such as the newfangled
and most uncouth solecism "<i>is being done</i>," for the
good old English idiom "<i>is doing</i>"—an absurd periphrasis
driving out a pointed and pithy turn of the English language.'—'N.
A. Review,' quoted by Mr. Wells, p. 148.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></SPAN></span>
'The phrase, "is being built," and others of a similar kind,
have been for a few years insinuating themselves into our
language; still they are not English.'—Harrison's 'Rise,
Progress, and Present Structure of the English Language.'
'This mode of expression [the house is being built] is becoming
quite common. It is liable, however, to several
important objections. It appears formal and pedantic. It
has not, as far as I know, the support of any respectable
grammarian. The easy and natural expression is, "The
house is building."'—Prof. J. W. Gibbs."</p>
<p>Mr. Richard Grant White, in his "Words and Their
Uses," expresses his opinion of the locution <i>is being</i> in this
wise: "In bad eminence, at the head of those intruders in
language which to many persons seem to be of established
respectability, but the right of which to be at all is not fully
admitted, stands out the form of speech <i>is being done</i>, or
rather, <i>is being</i>, which, about seventy or eighty years ago,
began to affront the eye, torment the ear, and assault the
common sense of the speaker of plain and idiomatic English."
Mr. White devotes thirty pages of his book to the
discussion of the subject, and adduces evidence that is
more than sufficient to convince those who are content with
an <i>ex parte</i> examination that "it can hardly be that such
an incongruous and ridiculous form of speech as <i>is being
done</i> was contrived by a man who, by any stretch of the
name, should be included among grammarians."</p>
<p>Mr. George P. Marsh, in his "Lectures on the English
Language," says that the deviser of the locution in question
was "some grammatical pretender," and that it is "an
awkward neologism, which neither convenience, intelligibility,
nor syntactical congruity demands."</p>
<p>To these gentlemen, and to those who are of their way
of thinking with regard to <i>is being</i>, Dr. Fitzedward Hall<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></SPAN></span>
replies at some length, in an article published in "Scribner's
Monthly" for April, 1872. Dr. Hall writes:</p>
<p>"'All really well educated in the English tongue lament
the many innovations introduced into our language
from America; and I doubt if more than one of these
novelties deserve acceptation. That one is, substituting a
compound participle for an active verb used in a neuter
signification: for instance, "The house is <i>being built</i>," instead
of, "The house is <i>building</i>."' Such is the assertion
and such is the opinion of some anonymous luminary,<SPAN name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</SPAN>
who, for his liberality in welcoming a supposed Americanism,
is somewhat in advance of the herd of his countrymen.
Almost any popular expression which is considered as a
novelty, a Briton is pretty certain to assume, off-hand, to
have originated on our side of the Atlantic. Of the assertion
I have quoted, no proof is offered; and there is little
probability that its author had any to offer. 'Are being,'
in the phrase 'are being thrown up,'<SPAN name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</SPAN> is spoken of in 'The
North American Review'<SPAN name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</SPAN> as 'an outrage upon English
idiom, "to be detested, abhorred, execrated, and given
over to six thousand" penny-paper editors'; and the fact
is, that phrases of the form here pointed at have hitherto
enjoyed very much less favor with us than with the English.</p>
<p>"As lately as 1860, Dr. Worcester, referring to <i>is being
built</i>, etc., while acknowledging that 'this new form has<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></SPAN></span>
been used by some respectable writers,' speaks of it as
having 'been introduced' 'within a few years.' Mr.
Richard Grant White, by a most peculiar process of ratiocination,
endeavors to prove that what Dr. Worcester
calls 'this new form' came into existence just fifty-six
years ago. He premises that in Jarvis's translation of
'Don Quixote,' published in 1742, there occurs 'were carrying,'
and that this, in the edition of 1818, is sophisticated
into 'were being carried.' 'This change,' continues our
logician, 'and the appearance of <i>is being</i> with a perfect
participle in a very few books published between <span class="smcap">a. d.</span> 1815
and 1820, indicate the former period as that of the origin
of this phraseology, which, although more than half a century
old, is still pronounced a novelty as well as a nuisance.'</p>
<p>"Who, in the next place, devised our modern imperfects
passive? The question is not, originally, of my
asking; but, as the learned are at open feud on the subject,
it should not be passed by in silence. Its deviser is,
more than likely, as undiscoverable as the name of the
valiant antediluvian who first tasted an oyster. But the
deductive character of the miscreant is another thing; and
hereon there is a war between the philosophers. Mr. G. P.
Marsh, as if he had actually spotted the wretched creature,
passionately and categorically denounces him as 'some
grammatical pretender.' 'But,' replies Mr. White, 'that
it is the work of any grammarian is more than doubtful.
Grammarians, with all their faults, do not deform language
with fantastic solecisms, or even seek to enrich it with new
and startling verbal combinations. They rather resist
novelty, and devote themselves to formulating that which
use has already established.' In the same page with this,
Mr. White compliments the great unknown as 'some precise<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></SPAN></span>
and feeble-minded soul,' and elsewhere calls him 'some
pedantic writer of the last generation.' To add even one
word toward a solution of the knotty point here indicated
transcends, I confess, my utmost competence. It is painful
to picture to one's self the agonizing emotions with
which certain philologists would contemplate an authentic
effigy of the Attila of speech who, by his <i>is being built</i> or
<i>is being done</i>, first offered violence to the whole circle of
the proprieties. So far as I have observed, the first grammar
that exhibits them is that of Mr. R. S. Skillern, M. A.,
the first edition of which was published at Gloucester in
1802. Robert Southey had not, on the 9th of October,
1795, been out of his minority quite two months when,
evidently delivering himself in a way that had already become
familiar enough, he wrote of 'a fellow whose uttermost
upper grinder <i>is being torn out</i> by the roots by a
mutton-fisted barber.'<SPAN name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</SPAN> This is in a letter. But repeated
instances of the same kind of expression are seen in Southey's
graver writings. Thus, in his 'Colloquies,' etc.,<SPAN name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</SPAN> we read
of 'such [nunneries] as at this time <i>are being reëstablished</i>.'</p>
<p>"'While my hand <i>was being drest</i> by Mr. Young, I
spoke for the first time,' wrote Coleridge, in March, 1797.</p>
<p>"Charles Lamb speaks of realities which '<i>are being
acted</i> before us,' and of 'a man who <i>is being strangled</i>.'</p>
<p>"Walter Savage Landor, in an imaginary conversation,
represents Pitt as saying: 'The man who possesses them
may read Swedenborg and Kant while he <i>is being tossed</i> in
a blanket.' Again: 'I have seen nobles, men and women,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></SPAN></span>
kneeling in the street before these bishops, when no ceremony
of the Catholic Church <i>was being performed</i>.' Also,
in a translation from Catullus: 'Some criminal <i>is being
tried</i> for murder.'</p>
<p>"Nor does Mr. De Quincey scruple at such English as
'made and <i>being made</i>,' 'the bride that <i>was being married</i>
to him,' and 'the shafts of Heaven <i>were</i> even now <i>being
forged</i>.' On one occasion he writes, 'Not done, not even
(according to modern purism) <i>being done</i>'; as if 'purism'
meant exactness, rather than the avoidance of neoterism.</p>
<p>"I need, surely, name no more, among the dead, who
found <i>is being built</i>, or the like, acceptable. 'Simple-minded
common people and those of culture were alike
protected against it by their attachment to the idiom of
their mother tongue, with which they felt it to be directly
at variance.' So Mr. White informs us. But the writers
whom I have quoted are formidable exceptions. Even
Mr. White will scarcely deny to them the title of 'people
of culture.'</p>
<p>"So much for offenders past repentance; and we all
know that the sort of phraseology under consideration is
daily becoming more and more common. The best written
of the English reviews, magazines, and journals are perpetually
marked by it; and some of the choicest of living
English writers employ it freely. Among these, it is
enough if I specify Bishop Wilberforce and Mr. Charles
Reade.<SPAN name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</SPAN></p>
<p>"Extracts from Bishop Jewel downward being also given,
Lord Macaulay, Mr. Dickens, 'The Atlantic Monthly,' and
'The Brooklyn Eagle' are alleged by Mr. White in proof<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></SPAN></span>
that people still use such phrases as 'Chelsea Hospital <i>was
building</i>,' and 'the train <i>was preparing</i>.' 'Hence we see,'
he adds,<SPAN name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</SPAN> 'that the form <i>is being done</i>, <i>is being made</i>, <i>is
being built</i>, lacks the support of authoritative usage from
the period of the earliest classical English to the present
day.' I fully concur with Mr. White in regarding 'neither
"The Brooklyn Eagle" nor Mr. Dickens as a very high
authority in the use of language'; yet, when he has renounced
the aid of these contemned straws, what has he to
rest his inference on, as to the present day, but the practice
of Lord Macaulay and 'The Atlantic Monthly'? Those
who think fit will bow to the dictatorship here prescribed
to them; but there may be those with whom the classic
sanction of Southey, Coleridge, and Landor will not be
wholly void of weight. All scholars are aware that, to
convey the sense of the imperfects passive, our ancestors,
centuries ago, prefixed, with <i>is</i>, etc., <i>in</i>, afterward corrupted
into <i>a</i>, to a verbal substantive. 'The house <i>is in building</i>'
could be taken to mean nothing but <i>ædes ædificantur</i>;
and, when the <i>in</i> gave place to <i>a</i>,<SPAN name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</SPAN> it was still manifest
enough, from the context, that <i>building</i> was governed by a
preposition. The second stage of change, however, namely,
when the <i>a</i> was omitted, entailed, in many cases, great
danger of confusion. In the early part of the last century,
when English was undergoing what was then thought to
be purification, the polite world substantially resigned <i>is
a-building</i> to the vulgar. Toward the close of the same
century, when, under the influence of free thought, it began
to be felt that even ideas had a right to faithful and unequivocal<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></SPAN></span>
representation, a just resentment of ambiguity was
evidenced in the creation of <i>is being built</i>. The lament is
too late that the instinct of reformation did not restore the
old form. It has gone forever; and we are now to make
the best of its successors. '"The brass <i>is forging</i>,"' in the
opinion of Dr. Johnson, is 'a vicious expression, probably
corrupted from a phrase more pure, but now somewhat
obsolete, ... "the brass <i>is a-forging</i>."' Yet, with a true
Tory's timidity and aversion to change, it is not surprising
that he went on preferring what he found established,
vicious as it confessedly was, to the end. But was the
expression 'vicious' solely because it was a corruption?
In 1787 William Beckford wrote as follows of the fortune-tellers
of Lisbon: '<i>I saw one dragging into light</i>, as I
passed by the ruins of a palace thrown down by the earthquake.
Whether a familiar of the Inquisition was griping
her in his clutches, or <i>whether she was taking to account by
some disappointed votary</i>, I will not pretend to answer.'
Are the expressions here italicized either perspicuous or
graceful? Whatever we are to have in their place, we
should be thankful to get quit of them.</p>
<p>"Inasmuch as, concurrently with <i>building</i> for the active
participle, and <i>being built</i> for the corresponding passive
participle, we possessed the former, with <i>is</i> prefixed, as the
active present imperfect, it is in rigid accordance with the
symmetry of our verb that, to construct the passive present-imperfect,
we prefix <i>is</i> to the latter, producing the form <i>is
being built</i>. Such, in its greatest simplicity, is the procedure
which, as will be seen, has provoked a very levanter
of ire and vilification. But anything that is new will be
excepted to by minds of a certain order. Their tremulous
and impatient dread of removing ancient landmarks even
disqualifies them for thoroughly investigating its character<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></SPAN></span>
and pretensions. In <i>has built</i> and <i>will build</i>, we find the
active participle perfect and the active infinitive subjoined
to auxiliaries; and so, in <i>has been built</i> and <i>will be built</i>,
the passive participle perfect and the passive infinitive are
subjoined to auxiliaries. In <i>is building</i> and <i>is being built</i>,
we have, in strict harmony with the constitution of the perfect
and future tenses, an auxiliary followed by the active
participle present and the passive participle present. <i>Built</i>
is determined as active or passive by the verbs which qualify
it, <i>have</i> and <i>be</i>; and the grammarians are right in considering
it, when embodied in <i>has built</i>, as active, since its
analogue, embodied in <i>has been built</i>, is the exclusively
passive <i>been built</i>. Besides this, <i>has been</i> + <i>built</i> would
signify something like <i>has existed, built</i>,<SPAN name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</SPAN> which is plainly
neuter. We are debarred, therefore, from such an analysis;
and, by parity of reasoning, we may not resolve <i>is being
built</i> into <i>is being</i> + <i>built</i>. It must have been an inspiration
of analogy, felt or unfelt, that suggested the form I
am discussing. <i>Is being</i> + <i>built</i>, as it can mean, pretty
nearly, only <i>exists, built</i>, would never have been proposed
as adequate to convey any but a neuter sense; whereas it
was perfectly natural for a person aiming to express a passive
sense to prefix <i>is</i> to the passive concretion <i>being built</i>.<SPAN name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</SPAN></p>
<p>"The analogical justification of <i>is being built</i> which I
have brought forward is so obvious that, as it occurred to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></SPAN></span>
myself more than twenty years ago, so it must have occurred
spontaneously to hundreds besides. It is very singular that
those who, like Mr. Marsh and Mr. White, have pondered
long and painfully over locutions typified by <i>is being built</i>,
should have missed the real ground of their grammatical
defensibleness, and should have warmed themselves, in their
opposition to them, into uttering opinions which no calm
judgment can accept.</p>
<p>"'One who <i>is being beaten</i>' is, to Archbishop Whately,
'uncouth English.' '"The bridge <i>is being built</i>," and other
phrases of the like kind, have pained the eye' of Mr. David
Booth. Such phrases, according to Mr. M. Harrison, 'are
not English.' To Professor J. W. Gibbs 'this mode of expression
... appears formal and pedantic'; and 'the easy
and natural expression is, "The house <i>is building</i>."'<SPAN name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</SPAN> In
all this, little or nothing is discernible beyond sheer prejudice,
the prejudice of those who resolve to take their stand
against an innovation, regardless of its utility, and who are
ready to find an argument against it in any random epithet
of disparagement provoked by unreasoning aversion. And
the more recent denouncers in the same line have no more
reason on their side than their elder brethren.</p>
<p>"In Mr. Marsh's estimation, <i>is being built</i> illustrates
'corruption of language'; it is 'clumsy and unidiomatic';
it is 'at best but a philological coxcombry'; it 'is an awkward
neologism, which neither convenience, intelligibility,
nor syntactical congruity demands, and the use of which
ought, therefore, to be discountenanced, as an attempt at
the artificial improvement of the language in a point which
needed no amendment.' Again, 'To reject' <i>is building</i> in
favor of the modern phrase 'is to violate the laws of language<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></SPAN></span>
by an arbitrary change; and, in this particular case,
the proposed substitute is at war with the genius of the
English tongue.' Mr. Marsh seems to have fancied that,
wherever he points out a beauty in <i>is building</i>, he points
out, inclusively, a blemish in <i>is being built</i>.</p>
<p>"The fervor and feeling with which Mr. White advances
to the charge are altogether tropical. 'The full absurdity
of this phrase, the essence of its nonsense, seems not to
have been hitherto pointed out.' It is not 'consistent with
reason'; and it is not 'conformed to the normal development
of the language.' It is 'a monstrosity, the illogical,
confusing, inaccurate, unidiomatic character of which I
have at some length, but yet imperfectly, set forth.' Finally,
'In fact, it means nothing, and is the most incongruous
combination of words and ideas that ever attained respectable
usage in any civilized language.' These be 'prave
'ords'; and it seems a pity that so much sterling vituperative
ammunition should be expended in vain. And that it
is so expended thinks Mr. White himself; for, though passing
sentence in the spirit of a Jeffreys, he is not really on
the judgment-seat, but on the lowest hassock of despair.
As concerns the mode of expression exemplified by <i>is being
built</i>, he owns that 'to check its diffusion would be a hopeless
undertaking.' If so, why not reserve himself for service
against some evil not avowedly beyond remedy?</p>
<p>"Again we read, 'Some precise and feeble-minded
soul, having been taught that there is a passive voice in
English, and that, for instance, <i>building</i> is an active participle,
and <i>builded</i> or <i>built</i> a passive, felt conscientious
scruples at saying "the house <i>is building</i>." For what could
the house build?' As children say at play, Mr. White
burns here. If it had occurred to him that the 'conscientious
scruples' of his hypothetical, 'precise, and feeble-minded<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></SPAN></span>
soul' were roused by <i>been built</i>, not by <i>built</i>, I suspect
his chapter on <i>is being built</i> would have been much
shorter than it is at present, and very different. 'The
fatal absurdity in this phrase consists,' he tells us, 'in the
combination of <i>is</i> with <i>being</i>; in the making of the verb <i>to
be</i> a supplement, or, in grammarians' phrase, an auxiliary
to itself—an absurdity so palpable, so monstrous, so ridiculous,
that it should need only to be pointed out to be
scouted.'<SPAN name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</SPAN> Lastly, 'The question is thus narrowed simply
to this, Does <i>to be being</i> (<i>esse ens</i>) mean anything more or
other than <i>to be</i>?'</p>
<p>"Having convicted Mr. White of a mistaken analysis, I
am not concerned with the observations which he founds
on his mistake. However, even if his analysis had been
correct, some of his arguments would avail him nothing.
For instance, <i>is being built</i>, on his understanding of it, that
is to say, <i>is being</i> + <i>built</i>, he represents by <i>ens ædificatus est</i>,
as 'the supposed corresponding Latin phrase.'<SPAN name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</SPAN> The Latin
is illegitimate; and he infers that, therefore, the English is
the same. But <i>ædificans est</i>, a translation, on the model
which he offers, of the active <i>is building</i>, is quite as illegitimate
as <i>ens æedificatus est</i>. By parity of <i>non-sequitur</i>, we
are, therefore, to surrender the active <i>is building</i>. Assume
that a phrase in a given language is indefensible unless it<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></SPAN></span>
has its counterpart in some other language; from the very
conception and definition of an idiom every idiom is illegitimate.</p>
<p>"I now pass to another point. '<i>To be</i> and <i>to exist</i> are,'
to Mr. White's apprehension, 'perfect synonyms, or more
nearly perfect, perhaps, than any two verbs in the language.
In some of their meanings there is a shade of difference,
but in others there is none whatever; and the latter are
those which serve our present purpose. When we say, "He,
<i>being</i> forewarned of danger, fled," we say, "He, <i>existing</i>
forewarned of danger, fled." When we say that a thing <i>is</i>
done, we say that it <i>exists</i> done.... <i>Is being done</i> is simply
<i>exists existing done</i>.' But, since <i>is</i> and <i>exists</i> are equipollent,
and so <i>being</i> and <i>existing, is being</i> is the same as
the unimpeachable <i>is existing</i>. Q. <i>non</i> E. D. <i>Is existing</i>
ought, of course, to be no less objectionable to Mr. White
than <i>is being</i>. Just as absurd, too, should he reckon the
Italian <i>sono stato</i>, <i>era stato</i>, <i>sia stato</i>, <i>fossi stato</i>, <i>saro stato</i>,
<i>sarei stato</i>, <i>essere stato</i>, and <i>essendo stato</i>. For in Italian
both <i>essere</i> and <i>stare</i> are required to make up the verb substantive,
as in Latin both <i>esse</i> and the offspring of <i>fuere</i> are
required; and <i>stare</i>, primarily 'to stand,' is modified into
a true auxiliary. The alleged 'full absurdity of this phrase,'
to wit, <i>is being built</i>, 'the essence of its nonsense,' vanishes
thus into thin air. So I was about to comment bluntly, not
forgetting to regret that any gentleman's cultivation of logic
should fructify in the shape of irrepressible tendencies to
suicide. But this would be precipitate. Agreeably to one
of Mr. White's judicial placita, which I make no apology
for citing twice, 'no man who has preserved all his senses
will doubt for a moment that "to exist a mastiff or a mule"
is absolutely the same as "to be a mastiff or a mule."'
Declining to admit their identity, I have not preserved all<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></SPAN></span>
my senses; and, accordingly—though it may be in me the
very superfetation of lunacy—I would caution the reader to
keep a sharp eye on my arguments, hereabouts particularly.
The Cretan, who, in declaring all Cretans to be liars, left
the question of his veracity doubtful to all eternity, fell into
a pit of his own digging. Not unlike the unfortunate Cretan,
Mr. White has tumbled headlong into his own snare.
It was, for the rest, entirely unavailing that he insisted on
the insanity of those who should gainsay his fundamental
postulate. Sanity, of a crude sort, may accept it; and
sanity may put it to a use other than its propounder's.</p>
<p>"Mr. Marsh, after setting forth the all-sufficiency of <i>is
building</i>, in the passive sense, goes on to say: 'The reformers
who object to the phrase I am defending must, in
consistency, employ the proposed substitute with all passive
participles, and in other tenses as well as the present. They
must say, therefore, "The subscription-paper <i>is being missed</i>,
but I know that a considerable sum <i>is being wanted</i> to make
up the amount"; "the great Victoria Bridge <i>has been being
built</i> more than two years"; "when I reach London, the
ship Leviathan <i>will be being built</i>"; "if my orders had
been followed, the coat <i>would have been being made yesterday</i>";
"if the house <i>had</i> then <i>been being built</i>, the mortar
<i>would have been being mixed</i>."' We may reply that, while
awkward instances of the old form are most abundant in
our literature, there is no fear that the repulsive elaborations
which have been worked out in ridicule of the new
forms will prove to have been anticipations of future usage.
There was a time when, as to their adverbs, people compared
them, to a large extent, with <i>-er</i> and <i>-est</i>, or with
<i>more</i> and <i>most</i>, just as their ear or pleasure dictated. They
wrote <i>plainlier</i> and <i>plainliest</i>, or <i>more plainly</i> and <i>most
plainly</i>; and some adverbs, as <i>early</i>, <i>late</i>, <i>often</i>, <i>seldom</i>, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></SPAN></span>
<i>soon</i>, we still compare in a way now become anomalous.
And as our forefathers treated their adverbs we still treat
many adjectives. <i>Furthermore</i>, <i>obligingness</i>, <i>preparedness</i>,
and <i>designedly</i> seem quite natural; yet we do not feel that
they authorize us to talk of 'the <i>seeingness</i> of the eye,' 'the
<i>understoodness</i> of a sentence,' or of 'a statement <i>acknowledgedly</i>
correct.' 'The now too notorious fact' is tolerable;
but 'the never to be sufficiently execrated monster
Bonaparte' is intolerable. The sun may be <i>shorn</i> of his
splendor; but we do not allow cloudy weather to <i>shear</i> him
of it. How, then, can any one claim that a man who prefers
to say <i>is being built</i> should say <i>has been being built</i>?
Are not awkward instances of the old form, typified by <i>is
building</i>, as easily to be picked out of extant literature as
such instances of the new form, likely ever to be used, are
to be invented? And 'the reformers' have not forsworn
their ears. Mr. Marsh, at p. 135 of his admirable 'Lectures,'
lays down that 'the adjective <i>reliable</i>, in the sense of
<i>worthy of confidence</i>, is altogether unidiomatic'; and yet,
at p. 112, he writes '<i>reliable</i> evidence.' Again, at p. 396 of
the same work, he rules that <i>whose</i>, in 'I passed a house
<i>whose</i> windows were open,' is 'by no means yet fully established';
and at p. 145 of his very learned 'Man and Nature'
he writes 'a quadrangular pyramid, the perpendicular
of <i>whose</i> sides,' etc. Really, if his own judgments sit so
very loose on his practical conscience, we may, without being
chargeable with exaction, ask of him to relax a little
the rigor of his requirements at the hands of his neighbors.</p>
<p>"Beckford's Lisbon fortune-teller, before had into court,
was '<i>dragging</i> into light,' and, perchance, '<i>was taking</i> to account.'
Many moderns would say and write '<i>being dragged</i>
into light,' and '<i>was being taken</i> to account.' But, if we<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></SPAN></span>
are to trust the conservative critics, in comparison with expressions
of the former pattern, those of the latter are
'uncouth,' 'clumsy,' 'awkward neologisms,' 'philological
coxcombries,' 'formal and pedantic,' 'incongruous and ridiculous
forms of speech,' 'illogical, confusing, inaccurate
monstrosities.' Moreover, they are neither 'consistent with
reason' nor 'conformed to the normal development of the
language'; they are 'at war with the genius of the English
tongue'; they are 'unidiomatic'; they are 'not English.'
In passing, if Mr. Marsh will so define the term <i>unidiomatic</i>
as to evince that it has any applicability to the
case in hand, or if he will arrest and photograph 'the genius
of the English tongue,' so that we may know the original
when we meet with it, he will confer a public favor.
And now I submit for consideration whether the sole
strength of those who decry <i>is being built</i> and its congeners
does not consist in their talent for calling hard names. If
they have not an uneasy subconsciousness that their cause
is weak, they would, at least, do well in eschewing the violence
to which, for want of something better, the advocates
of weak causes proverbially resort.</p>
<p>"I once had a friend who, for some microscopic penumbra
of heresy, was charged, in the words of his accuser,
with 'as near an approach to the sin against the Holy
Ghost as is practicable to human infirmity.' Similarly, on
one view, the feeble potencies of philological turpitude
seem to have exhibited their most consummate realization
in engendering <i>is being built</i>. The supposed enormity perpetrated
in its production, provided it had fallen within the
sphere of ethics, would, at the least, have ranked, with its
denunciators, as a brand-new exemplification of total depravity.
But, after all, what incontestable defect in it has
any one succeeded in demonstrating? Mr. White, in opposing<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></SPAN></span>
to the expression objections based on an erroneous
analysis, simply lays a phantom of his own evoking; and,
so far as I am informed, other impugners of <i>is being built</i>
have, absolutely, no argument whatever against it over and
beyond their repugnance to novelty. Subjected to a little
untroubled contemplation, it would, I am confident, have
ceased long ago to be matter of controversy; but the dust
of prejudice and passion, which so distempers the intellectual
vision of theologians and politicians, is seen to make,
with ruthless impartiality, no exception of the perspicacity
of philologists.</p>
<p>"Prior to the evolution of <i>is being built</i> and <i>was being
built</i>, we possessed no discriminate equivalents to <i>ædificatur</i>
and <i>ædificabatur</i>; <i>is built</i> and <i>was built</i>, by which they
were rendered, corresponding exactly to <i>ædificatus est</i> and
<i>ædificatus erat</i>. <i>Cum ædificaretur</i> was to us the same as
<i>ædificabatur</i>. On the wealth of the Greek in expressions
of imperfect passive I need not dwell. With rare exceptions,
the Romans were satisfied with the present-imperfect
and the past-imperfect; and we, on the comparatively few
occasions which present themselves for expressing other imperfects,
shall be sure to have recourse to the old forms
rather than to the new, or else to use periphrases.<SPAN name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</SPAN> The
purists may, accordingly, dismiss their apprehensions, especially
as the neoterists have, clearly, a keener horror of
phraseological ungainliness than themselves. One may<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></SPAN></span>
have no hesitation about saying 'the house <i>is being built</i>,'
and may yet recoil from saying that 'it <i>should have been
being built</i> last Christmas'; and the same person—just as,
provided he did not feel a harshness, inadequacy, and ambiguity
in the passive 'the house <i>is building</i>,' he would use
the expression—will, more likely than not, elect <i>is in preparation</i>
preferentially to <i>is being prepared</i>. If there are any
who, in their zealotry for the congruous, choose to adhere
to the new form in its entire range of exchangeability for
the old, let it be hoped that they will find, in Mr. Marsh's
speculative approbation of consistency, full amends for the
discomfort of encountering smiles or frowns. At the same
time, let them be mindful of the career of Mr. White, with
his black flag and no quarter. The dead Polonius was, in
Hamlet's phrase, at supper, 'not where he eats, but where
he <i>is eaten</i>.' Shakespeare, to Mr. White's thinking, in this
wise expressed himself at the best, and deserves not only
admiration therefor, but to be imitated. 'While the ark
<i>was built</i>,' 'while the ark <i>was prepared</i>,' writes Mr. White
himself.<SPAN name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</SPAN> Shakespeare is commended for his ambiguous
<i>is eaten</i>, though <i>in eating</i> or <i>an eating</i> would have been not
only correct in his day, but, where they would have come
in his sentence, univocal. With equal reason a man would
be entitled to commendation for tearing his mutton-chops
with his fingers, when he might cut them up with a knife
and fork. '<i>Is eaten</i>,' says Mr. White, 'does not mean <i>has
been eaten</i>.' Very true; but a continuous unfinished passion—Polonius's
still undergoing manducation, to speak
Johnsonese—was in Shakespeare's mind; and his words
describe a passion no longer in generation. The King of
Denmark's lord chamberlain had no precedent in Herod,
when 'he <i>was eaten</i> of worms'; the original, <span title="genomenos skôlêkobrôtos">γενόμενος σκωληκόβρωτος</span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></SPAN></span>, yielding, but for its participle, 'he became
worm-eaten.'</p>
<p>"Having now done with Mr. White, I am anxious, before
taking leave of him, to record, with all emphasis, that
it would be the grossest injustice to write of his elegant
'Life and Genius of Shakespeare,' a book which does
credit to American literature, in the tone which I have
found unavoidable in dealing with his 'Words and their
Uses.'"</p>
<p>The student of English who has honestly weighed the
arguments on both sides of the question, must, I believe,
be of opinion that our language is the richer for having
two forms for expressing the Progressive Passive. Further,
he must, I believe, be of opinion that in very many cases
he conforms to the most approved usage of our time by
employing the old form; that, however, if he were to employ
the old form in all cases, his meaning would sometimes
be uncertain.</p>
<p><b>It.</b> Cobbett discourses of this little neuter pronoun in
this wise: "The word <i>it</i> is the greatest troubler that I
know of in language. It is so small and so convenient that
few are careful enough in using it. Writers seldom spare
this word. Whenever they are at a loss for either a nominative
or an objective to their sentence, they, without any
kind of ceremony, clap in an <i>it</i>. A very remarkable instance
of this pressing of poor <i>it</i> into actual service, contrary
to the laws of grammar and of sense, occurs in a
piece of composition, where we might, with justice, insist
on correctness. This piece is on the subject of grammar;
it is a piece written by a <i>Doctor of Divinity</i> and read by
him to students in grammar and language in an academy;
and the very sentence that I am now about to quote is
selected by the author of a grammar as testimony of high<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></SPAN></span>
authority in favor of the excellence of his work. Surely,
if correctness be ever to be expected, it must be in a case
like this. I allude to two sentences in the 'Charge of the
Reverend Doctor Abercrombie to the Senior Class of the
Philadelphia Academy,' published in 1806; which sentences
have been selected and published by Mr. Lindley
Murray as a testimonial of the <i>merits</i> of his grammar; and
which sentences are by Mr. Murray given to us in the following
words: 'The unwearied exertions of this gentleman
<i>have</i> done more toward elucidating the obscurities
and embellishing the structure of our language than any
<i>other writer</i> on the subject. <i>Such a work</i> has long been
wanted, and from the success with which <i>it</i> is executed,
can not be too highly appreciated.'</p>
<p>"As in the learned Doctor's opinion obscurities can be
elucidated, and as in the same opinion Mr. Murray is an
able hand at this kind of work, it would not be amiss were
the grammarian to try his skill upon this article from the
hand of his dignified eulogist; for here is, if one may use
the expression, a constellation of obscurities. Our poor
oppressed <i>it</i>, which we find forced into the Doctor's service
in the second sentence, relates to '<i>such a work</i>,' though this
work is nothing that has an existence, notwithstanding it
is said to be '<i>executed</i>.' In the first sentence, the 'exertions'
become, all of a sudden, a '<i>writer</i>': the <i>exertions</i>
have done more than 'any <i>other</i> writer'; for, mind you,
it is not the <i>gentleman</i> that has done anything; it is 'the
<i>exertions</i>' that <i>have</i> done what is said to be done. The
word <i>gentleman</i> is in the possessive case, and has nothing
to do with the action of the sentence. Let us give the sentence
a turn, and the Doctor and the grammarian will hear
how it will sound. 'This gentleman's <i>exertions</i> have done
more than any <i>other writer</i>.' This is on a level with 'This<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></SPAN></span>
gentleman's <i>dog</i> has killed more hares than any <i>other sportsman</i>.'
No doubt Doctor Abercrombie <i>meant</i> to say, 'The
exertions of this gentleman have done more <i>than those</i> of
any other writer. Such a work as this gentleman's has
long been wanted; his work, seeing the successful manner
of its execution, can not be too highly commended.'
<i>Meant!</i> No doubt at all of that! And when we hear a
Hampshire ploughboy say, 'Poll Cherrycheek have giv'd
a thick handkecher,' we know very well that he <i>means</i> to
say, 'Poll Cherrycheek has given me this handkerchief';
and yet we are too apt to <i>laugh at him</i> and to call him
<i>ignorant</i>; which is wrong, because he has no pretensions
to a knowledge of grammar, and he may be very skillful as
a ploughboy. However, we will not laugh at Doctor Abercrombie,
whom I knew, many years ago, for a very kind
and worthy man. But, if we may, in any case, be allowed
to laugh at the ignorance of our fellow-creatures, that case
certainly does arise when we see a professed grammarian,
the author of voluminous precepts and examples on the
subject of grammar, producing, in imitation of the possessors
of valuable medical secrets, testimonials vouching for
the efficacy of his literary panacea, and when, in those
testimonials, we find most flagrant instances of bad grammar.</p>
<p>"However, my dear James, let this strong and striking
instance of the misuse of the word <i>it</i> serve you in the way
of caution. Never put an <i>it</i> upon paper without thinking
well of what you are about. When I see many <i>its</i> in a
page, I always tremble for the writer."</p>
<p><b>Jeopardize.</b> This is a modern word which we could
easily do without, as it means neither more nor less than
its venerable progenitor <i>to jeopard</i>, which is greatly preferred
by all careful writers.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Just going to.</b> Instead of "I am <i>just going to</i> go," it is
better to say, "I am just <i>about</i> to go."</p>
<p><b>Kids.</b> "This is another vile contraction. Habit blinds
people to the unseemliness of a term like this. How would
it sound if one should speak of silk gloves as <i>silks</i>?"</p>
<p><b>Kind.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Polite">Polite</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Knights Templars.</b> The name of this ancient body
has been adopted by a branch of the Masonic fraternity,
but in a perverted form—<i>Knights Templar</i>; and this form
is commonly seen in print, whether referring to the old
knights or to their modern imitators. This doubtless is
due to the erroneous impression that <i>Templar</i> is an adjective,
and so can not take the plural form; while in fact
it is a case of two nouns in apposition—a double designation—meaning
Knights of the order of Templars. Hence
the plural should be <i>Knights Templars</i>, and not <i>Knights
Templar</i>. Members of the contemporaneous order of St.
John of Jerusalem were commonly called Knights Hospitallers.</p>
<p><b>Lady.</b> To use the term <i>lady</i>, whether in the singular
or in the plural, simply to designate the sex, is in the worst
possible taste. There is a kind of pin-feather gentility
which seems to have a settled aversion to using the terms
<i>man</i> and <i>woman</i>. Gentlemen and ladies establish their
claims to being called such by their bearing, and not by
arrogating to themselves, <i>even indirectly</i>, the titles. In
England, the title <i>lady</i> is properly correlative to <i>lord</i>; but
there, as in this country, it is used as a term of complaisance,
and is appropriately applied to women whose lives are exemplary,
and who have received that school and home education
which enables them to appear to advantage in the
better circles of society. Such expressions as "She is a
fine <i>lady</i>, a clever <i>lady</i>, a well-dressed <i>lady</i>, a good <i>lady</i>, a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></SPAN></span>
modest <i>lady</i>, a charitable <i>lady</i>, an amiable <i>lady</i>, a handsome
<i>lady</i>, a fascinating <i>lady</i>," and the like, are studiously avoided
by persons of refinement. <i>Ladies</i> say, "we <i>women</i>, the
<i>women</i> of America, <i>women's</i> apparel," and so on; <i>vulgar</i>
women talk about "us <i>ladies</i>, the <i>ladies</i> of America,
<i>ladies'</i> apparel," and so on. If a woman of culture and
refinement—in short, a lady—is compelled from any cause
soever to work in a store, she is quite content to be called
a sales-<i>woman</i>; not so, however, with your young woman
who, being in a store, is in a better position than ever
before. She, Heaven bless her! boils with indignation
if she is not denominated a sales-<i>lady</i>. Lady is often the
proper term to use, and then it would be very improper to
use any other; but it is very certain that the terms <i>lady</i>
and <i>gentleman</i> are least used by those persons who are
most worthy of being designated by them. With a nice
discrimination worthy of special notice, one of our daily
papers recently said: "Miss Jennie Halstead, daughter of
the proprietor of the 'Cincinnati Commercial,' is one of the
most brilliant young <i>women</i> in Ohio."</p>
<p>In a late number of the "London Queen" was the following:
"The terms <i>ladies</i> and <i>gentlemen</i> become in themselves
vulgarisms when misapplied, and the improper application
of the wrong term at the wrong time makes all the
difference in the world to ears polite. Thus, calling a man
a <i>gentleman</i> when he should be called a <i>man</i>, or speaking
of a man as a <i>man</i> when he should be spoken of as a
<i>gentleman</i>; or alluding to a lady as a <i>woman</i> when she
should be alluded to as a <i>lady</i>, or speaking of a woman
as a <i>lady</i> when she should properly be termed a <i>woman</i>.
Tact and a sense of the fitness of things decide these points,
there being no fixed rule to go upon to determine when a
man is a <i>man</i> or when he is a <i>gentleman</i>; and, although he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></SPAN></span>
is far oftener termed the one than the other, he does not
thereby lose his attributes of a gentleman. In common
parlance, a man is always a <i>man</i> to a man, and never a
<i>gentleman</i>; to a woman, he is occasionally a <i>man</i> and occasionally
a <i>gentleman</i>; but a man would far oftener term
a woman a <i>woman</i> than he would term her a <i>lady</i>. When
a man makes use of an adjective in speaking of a lady, he
almost invariably calls her a <i>woman</i>. Thus, he would say,
'I met a rather agreeable <i>woman</i> at dinner last night';
but he would <i>not</i> say, 'I met an agreeable <i>lady</i>'; but he
might say, 'A <i>lady</i>, a friend of mine, told me,' etc., when
he would <i>not</i> say, 'A <i>woman</i>, a friend of mine, told me,'
etc. Again, a man would say, 'Which of the <i>ladies</i> did
you take in to dinner?' He would certainly not say, 'Which
of the <i>women</i>,' etc.</p>
<p>"Speaking of people <i>en masse</i>, it would be to belong to
a very advanced school to refer to them in conversation as
'men and women,' while it would be all but vulgar to style
them 'ladies and gentlemen,' the compromise between the
two being to speak of them as 'ladies and men.' Thus a
lady would say, 'I have asked two or three ladies and several
men'; she would not say, 'I have asked several men
and women'; neither would she say, 'I have asked several
ladies and gentlemen.' And, speaking of numbers, it would
be very usual to say, 'There were a great many ladies, and
but very few men present,' or, 'The ladies were in the
majority, so few men being present.' Again, a lady would
not say, 'I expect two or three men,' but she would say,
'I expect two or three gentlemen.' When people are on
ceremony with each other [<i>one another</i>], they might, perhaps,
in speaking of a man, call him a <i>gentleman</i>; but,
otherwise, it would be more usual to speak of him as a <i>man</i>.
Ladies, when speaking of each other [<i>one another</i>], usually<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></SPAN></span>
employ the term <i>woman</i> in preference to that of <i>lady</i>. Thus
they would say, 'She is a very good-natured <i>woman</i>,' 'What
sort of a <i>woman</i> is she?' the term <i>lady</i> being entirely out
of place under such circumstances. Again, the term young
<i>lady</i> gives place as far as possible to the term <i>girl</i>, although
it greatly depends upon the amount of intimacy existing as
to which term is employed."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Language" id="Language"></SPAN>Language.</b> A note in Worcester's Dictionary says:
"<i>Language</i> is a very general term, and is not strictly confined
to utterance by words, as it is also expressed by the
countenance, by the eyes, and by signs. <i>Tongue</i> refers
especially to an original language; as, 'the Hebrew
<i>tongue</i>.' The modern languages are derived from the
original <i>tongues</i>." If this be correct, then he who speaks
French, German, English, Spanish, and Italian, may properly
say that he speaks five <i>languages</i>, but only one
<i>tongue</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Lay" id="Lay"></SPAN>Lay—Lie.</b> Errors are frequent in the use of these two
irregular verbs. <i>Lay</i> is often used for <i>lie</i>, and <i>lie</i> is sometimes
used for <i>lay</i>. This confusion in their use is due in
some measure, doubtless, to the circumstance that <i>lay</i> appears
in both verbs, it being the imperfect tense of <i>to lie</i>.
We say, "A mason <i>lays</i> bricks," "A ship <i>lies</i> at anchor,"
etc. "I must <i>lie</i> down"; "I must <i>lay</i> myself down";
"I must <i>lay</i> this book on the table"; "He <i>lies</i> on the
grass"; "He <i>lays</i> his plans well"; "He <i>lay</i> on the grass";
"He <i>laid</i> it away"; "He has <i>lain</i> in bed long enough";
"He has <i>laid up</i> some money," "<i>in</i> a stock," "<i>down</i> the
law"; "He is <i>laying</i> out the grounds"; "Ships <i>lie</i> at the
wharf"; "Hens <i>lay</i> eggs"; "The ship <i>lay</i> at anchor";
"The hen <i>laid</i> an egg." It will be seen that <i>lay</i> always
expresses transitive action, and that <i>lie</i> expresses
rest.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></SPAN></span></p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Here <i>lies</i> our sovereign lord, the king,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Whose word no man relies on;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">He never says a foolish thing,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Nor ever does a wise one."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>—Written on the bedchamber door of Charles II, by the
Earl of Rochester.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Learn" id="Learn"></SPAN>Learn.</b> This verb was long ago used as a synonym of
<i>teach</i>, but in this sense it is now obsolete. To <i>teach</i> is to
give instruction; to <i>learn</i> is to take instruction. "I will
<i>learn</i>, if you will <i>teach</i> me." See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Teach">Teach</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Leave.</b> There are grammarians who insist that this
verb should not be used without an object, as, for example,
it is used in such sentences as, "When do you leave?" "I
leave to-morrow." The object of the verb—home, town,
or whatever it may be—is, of course, understood; but this,
say these gentlemen, is not permissible. On this point
opinions will, I think, differ; they will, however, not differ
with regard to the vulgarity of using <i>leave</i> in the sense of
<i>let</i>; thus, "<i>Leave</i> me be"; "<i>Leave</i> it alone"; "<i>Leave</i> her
be—don't bother her"; "<i>Leave</i> me see it."</p>
<p><b>Lend.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Loan">Loan</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Lengthy.</b> This word is of comparatively recent origin,
and, though it is said to be an Americanism, it is a good
deal used in England. The most careful writers, however,
both here and elsewhere, much prefer the word <i>long</i>: "a
<i>long</i> discussion," "a <i>long</i> discourse," etc.</p>
<p><b>Leniency.</b> Mr. Gould calls this word and <i>lenience</i>
"two philological abortions." <i>Lenity</i> is undoubtedly the
proper word to use, though both Webster and Worcester
do recognize <i>leniency</i> and <i>lenience</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Less" id="Less"></SPAN>Less.</b> This word is much used instead of <i>fewer</i>. <i>Less</i>
relates to quantity; <i>fewer</i> to number. Instead of, "There
were not <i>less</i> than twenty persons present," we should<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></SPAN></span>
say, "There were not <i>fewer</i> than twenty persons present."</p>
<p><b>Lesser.</b> This form of the comparative of <i>little</i> is accounted
a corruption of <i>less</i>. It may, however, be used
instead of <i>less</i> with propriety in verse, and also, in some
cases, in prose. We may say, for example, "Of two evils
choose the <i>less</i>," or "the <i>lesser</i>." The latter form, in sentences
like this, is the more euphonious.</p>
<p><b>Liable.</b> Richard Grant White, in inveighing against
the misuse of this word, cites the example of a member from
a rural district, who called out to a man whom he met in
the village, where he was in the habit of making little purchases:
"I say, mister, kin yer tell me whar I'd be <i>li'ble</i>
to find some beans?" See, also, <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Apt">Apt</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Lie.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Lay">Lay</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Like" id="Like"></SPAN>Like—As.</b> Both these words express similarity; <i>like</i>
(adjective) comparing things, <i>as</i> (adverb) comparing action,
existence, or quality. Like is followed by an object only,
and does not admit of a verb in the same construction.
<i>As</i> must be followed by a verb expressed or understood.
We say, "He looks <i>like</i> his brother," or "He looks <i>as</i>
his brother <i>looks</i>." "Do <i>as</i> I do," not "<i>like</i> I do." "You
must speak <i>as</i> James does," not "<i>like</i> James does." "He
died <i>as</i> he had lived, <i>like</i> a dog." "It is <i>as</i> blue <i>as</i> indigo";
i. e., "as indigo is."</p>
<p><b>Like, To.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Love">Love</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Likely.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Apt">Apt</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Lit.</b> This form of the past participle of the verb <i>to
light</i> is now obsolete. "Have you <i>lighted</i> the fire?" "The
gas is <i>lighted</i>." <i>Het</i> for <i>heated</i> is a similar, but much greater,
vulgarism.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Loan" id="Loan"></SPAN>Loan—Lend.</b> There are those who contend that there
is no such verb as <i>to loan</i>, although it has been found in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></SPAN></span>
our literature for more than three hundred years. Whether
there is properly such a verb or not, it is quite certain that
it is only those having a vulgar <i>penchant</i> for big words who
will prefer it to its synonym <i>lend</i>. Better far to say "<i>Lend</i>
me your umbrella" than "<i>Loan</i> me your umbrella."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Locate" id="Locate"></SPAN>Locate—Settle.</b> The use of the verb <i>to locate</i> in the
sense of <i>to settle</i> is said to be an Americanism. Although
the dictionaries recognize <i>to locate</i> as a neuter verb, as such
it is marked "rarely used," and, in the sense of <i>to settle</i>, it
is among the vulgarisms that careful speakers and writers
are studious to avoid. A man <i>settles</i>, not <i>locates</i>, in Nebraska.
"Where do you intend to <i>settle</i>?" not <i>locate</i>. See, also,
<span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Settle">Settle</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Loggerheads.</b> "In the mean time France is at <i>loggerheads
internally</i>."—"New York Herald," April 29, 1881.
Loggerheads <i>internally</i>?!</p>
<p><b>Looks beautifully.</b> It is sometimes interesting to note
the difference between <i>vulgar</i> bad grammar and <i>genteel</i> bad
grammar, or, more properly, between non-painstaking and
painstaking bad grammar. The former uses, for example,
adjectives instead of adverbs; the latter uses adverbs instead
of adjectives. The former says, "This bonnet is
trimmed <i>shocking</i>"; the latter says, "This bonnet looks
<i>shockingly</i>." In the first sentence the epithet qualifies the
verb <i>is trimmed</i>, and consequently should have its adverbial
form—<i>shockingly</i>; in the second sentence the epithet qualifies
the <i>appearance</i>—a noun—of the bonnet, and consequently
should have its adjectival form—<i>shocking</i>. The
second sentence means to say, "This bonnet presents a
shocking appearance." The bonnet certainly does not really
<i>look</i>; it is <i>looked at</i>, and to the <i>looker</i> its appearance is
<i>shocking</i>. So we say, in like manner, of a person, that he
or she looks <i>sweet</i>, or <i>charming</i>, or <i>beautiful</i>, or <i>handsome</i>,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></SPAN></span>
or <i>horrid</i>, or <i>graceful</i>, or <i>timid</i>, and so on, always using an
adjective. "Miss Coghlan, as Lady Teazle, looked <i>charmingly</i>."
The grammar of the "New York Herald" would
not have been any more incorrect if it had said that Miss
Coghlan looked <i>gladly</i>, or <i>sadly</i>, or <i>madly</i>, or <i>delightedly</i>, or
<i>pleasedly</i>. A person may look <i>sick</i> or <i>sickly</i>, but in both
cases the qualifying word is an adjective. The verbs to
<i>smell</i>, to <i>feel</i>, to <i>sound</i>, and to <i>appear</i> are also found in sentences
in which the qualifying word must be an adjective
and not an adverb. We say, for example, "The rose smells
<i>sweet</i>"; "The butter smells <i>good</i>, or <i>bad</i>, or <i>fresh</i>"; "I
feel <i>glad</i>, or <i>sad</i>, or <i>bad</i>, or <i>despondent</i>, or <i>annoyed</i>, or <i>nervous</i>";
"This construction sounds <i>harsh</i>"; "How <i>delightful</i>
the country appears!"</p>
<p>On the other hand, to <i>look</i>, to <i>feel</i>, to <i>smell</i>, to <i>sound</i>,
and to <i>appear</i> are found in sentences where the qualifying
word must be an adverb; thus, "He feels his loss <i>keenly</i>";
"The king looked <i>graciously</i> on her"; "I smell it <i>faintly</i>."
We might also say, "He feels <i>sad</i> [adjective], because he
feels his loss <i>keenly</i>" (adverb); "He appears <i>well</i>" (adverb).</p>
<p>The expression, "<i>She seemed confusedly</i>, or <i>timidly</i>," is
not a whit more incorrect than "<i>She looked beautifully</i>, or
<i>charmingly</i>." See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Adjectives">Adjectives</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Love" id="Love"></SPAN>Love—Like.</b> Men who are at all careful in the selection
of language to express their thoughts, and have not an
undue leaning toward the superlative, <i>love</i> few things: their
wives, their sweethearts, their kinsmen, truth, justice, and
their country. Women, on the contrary, as a rule, <i>love</i> a
multitude of things, and, among their loves, the thing they
perhaps love most is—taffy.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Luggage" id="Luggage"></SPAN>Luggage—Baggage.</b> The former of these words is
generally used in England, the latter in America.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Lunch.</b> This word, when used as a substantive, may
at the best be accounted an inelegant abbreviation of <i>luncheon</i>.
The dictionaries barely recognize it. The proper
phraseology to use is, "Have you <i>lunched</i>?" or, "Have
you had your <i>luncheon</i>?" or, better, "Have you had <i>luncheon</i>?"
as we may in most cases presuppose that the person
addressed would hardly take anybody's else luncheon.</p>
<p><b>Luxurious—Luxuriant.</b> The line is drawn much more
sharply between these two words now than it was formerly.
Luxurious was once used, to some extent at least, in the
sense of <i>rank growth</i>, but now all careful writers and speakers
use it in the sense of <i>indulging</i> or <i>delighting in luxury</i>.
We talk of a <i>luxurious</i> table, a <i>luxurious</i> liver, <i>luxurious</i>
ease, <i>luxurious</i> freedom. Luxuriant, on the other hand, is
restricted to the sense of <i>rank</i>, or <i>excessive</i>, growth or production;
thus, <i>luxuriant</i> weeds, <i>luxuriant</i> foliage or
branches, <i>luxuriant</i> growth.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Prune the <i>luxuriant</i>, the uncouth refine,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But show no mercy to an empty line."—Pope.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><b>Mad.</b> Professor Richard A. Proctor, in a recent number
of "The Gentleman's Magazine," says: "The word
<i>mad</i> in America seems nearly always to mean <i>angry</i>. For
<i>mad</i>, as we use the word, Americans say <i>crazy</i>. Herein
they have manifestly impaired the language." Have they?</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i5">"Now, in faith, Gratiano,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">An 'twere, to me, I would be <i>mad at</i> it."<br/></span>
<span class="i10">—"Merchant of Venice."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"And being exceedingly <i>mad</i> against them, I persecuted
them even unto strange cities."—Acts xxvi, II.</p>
<p><b>Make a visit.</b> The phrase "<i>make</i> a visit," according
to Dr. Hall, whatever it once was, is no longer English.</p>
<p><b>Male.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Female">Female</SPAN></span>.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Marry.</b> There has been some discussion, at one time
and another, with regard to the use of this word. Is John
Jones married <i>to</i> Sally Brown or <i>with</i> Sally Brown, or are
they married to each other? Inasmuch as the woman loses
her name in that of the man to whom she is wedded, and
becomes a member of his family, not he of hers—inasmuch
as, with few exceptions, it is her life that is merged in his—it
would seem that, <i>properly</i>, Sally Brown is married <i>to</i> John
Jones, and that this would be the proper way to make the
announcement of their having been wedded, and not John
Jones <i>to</i> Sally Brown.</p>
<p>There is also a difference of opinion as to whether the
active or the passive form is preferable in referring to a person's
wedded state. In speaking definitely of the <i>act</i> of
marriage, the passive form is necessarily used with reference
to either spouse. "John Jones was married to Sally
Brown on Dec. 1, 1881"; not, "John Jones <i>married</i> Sally
Brown" on such a date, for (unless they were Quakers)
some third person married him to her and her to him.
But, in speaking indefinitely of the <i>fact</i> of marriage, the
active form is a matter of course. "Whom did John Jones
marry?" "He married Sally Brown." "John Jones, when
he had sown his wild oats, married [married himself, as the
French say] and settled down." <i>Got married</i> is a vulgarism.</p>
<p><b>May.</b> In the sense of <i>can</i>, <i>may</i>, in a negative clause,
has become obsolete. "Though we <i>may</i> say a horse, we
<i>may</i> not say a ox." The first <i>may</i> here is permissible; not
so, however, the second, which should be <i>can</i>.</p>
<p><b>Meat.</b> At table, we ask for and offer beef, mutton,
veal, steak, turkey, duck, etc., and do not ask for nor offer
<i>meat</i>, which, to say the least, is inelegant. "Will you have
[not, take] another piece of <i>beef</i> [not, of <i>the</i> beef]?" not,
"Will you have another piece of <i>meat</i>?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Memorandum.</b> The plural is <i>memoranda</i>, except when
the singular means a book; then the plural is <i>memorandums</i>.</p>
<p><b>Mere.</b> This word is not unfrequently misplaced, and
sometimes, as in the following sentence, in consequence of
being misplaced, it is changed to an adverb: "It is true of
men as of God, that words <i>merely</i> meet with no response."
What the writer evidently intended to say is, that <i>mere</i>
words meet with no response.</p>
<p><b>Metaphor.</b> An <i>implied</i> comparison is called a metaphor;
it is a more terse form of expression than the simile.
Take, for example, this sentence from Spenser's "Philosophy
of Style": "As, in passing through the crystal, beams
of white light are decomposed into the colors of the rainbow;
so, in traversing the soul of the poet, the colorless
rays of truth are transformed into brightly-tinted poetry."
Expressed in metaphors, this becomes: "The white light
of truth, in traversing the many-sided, transparent soul of
the poet, is refracted into iris-hued poetry."</p>
<p>Worcester's definition of a <i>metaphor</i> is: "A figure of
speech founded on the resemblance which one object is
supposed to bear, in some respect, to another, or a figure
by which a word is transferred from a subject to which it
properly belongs to another, in such a manner that a <i>comparison
is implied, though not formally expressed</i>; a comparison
or simile comprised in a word; as, 'Thy word is a
<i>lamp</i> to my feet.'" A <i>metaphor</i> differs from a <i>simile</i> in being
expressed without any sign of comparison; thus, "the
<i>silver</i> moon" is a <i>metaphor</i>; "the moon is bright as silver"
is a simile. Examples:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill."<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased—<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow?"<br/></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i7">"At length Erasmus<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Stemmed the wild torrent of a barbarous age,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And drove those holy Vandals off the stage."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"Censure is the tax a man pays to the public for being
eminent."</p>
<p><b>Metonymy.</b> The rhetorical figure that puts the effect
for the cause, the cause for the effect, the container for the
thing contained, the sign, or symbol, for the thing signified,
or the instrument for the agent, is called <i>metonymy</i>.</p>
<p>"One very common species of <i>metonymy</i> is, when the
badge is put for the office. Thus we say the <i>miter</i> for the
priesthood; the <i>crown</i> for royalty; for military occupation
we say the <i>sword</i>; and for the literary professions, those
especially of theology, law, and physic, the common expression
is the <i>gown</i>."—Campbell.</p>
<p>Dr. Quackenbos, in his "Course of Composition and
Rhetoric," says: "<i>Metonymy</i> is the exchange of names between
things related. It is founded, not on resemblance,
but on the relation of, 1. Cause and effect; as,'They have
<i>Moses</i> and <i>the prophets</i>,' i. e., their writings; '<i>Gray hairs</i>
should be respected,' i. e., <i>old age</i>. 2. Progenitor and posterity;
as, 'Hear, O Israel!' i. e., <i>descendants of Israel</i>.
3. Subject and attribute; as, '<i>Youth</i> and <i>beauty</i> shall be
laid in dust,' i. e., <i>the young</i> and <i>beautiful</i>. 4. Place and
inhabitant; as, 'What <i>land</i> is so barbarous as to allow this
injustice?' i. e., what <i>people</i>. 5. Container and thing contained;
as, 'Our <i>ships</i> next opened fire,' i. e., our <i>sailors</i>.
6. Sign and thing signified; as, 'The <i>scepter</i> shall not depart
from Judah,' i. e., <i>kingly</i> power. 7. Material and
thing made of it; as, 'His <i>steel</i> gleamed on high,' i. e., his
<i>sword</i>."</p>
<p>"Petitions having proved unsuccessful, it was determined
to approach the throne more boldly."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Midst, The.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#In_our_midst">In our midst</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Mind—Capricious.</b> "Lord Salisbury's <i>mind</i> is <i>capricious</i>."—"Tribune,"
April 3, 1881. See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Equanimity_of_mind">Equanimity of
Mind</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Misplaced Clauses.</b> In writing and speaking, it is as
important to give each clause its proper place as it is to
place the words properly. The following are a few instances
of misplaced clauses and adjuncts: "All these circumstances
brought close to us a state of things which we
never thought to have witnessed [<i>to witness</i>] in peaceful
England. <i>In the sister island, indeed, we had read of such
horrors</i>, but now they were brought home to our very
household hearth."—Swift. Better: "We had read, indeed,
of such horrors occurring in the sister island," etc.</p>
<p>"The savage people in many places in America, except
the government of families, have no government at all, and
live at this day in that savage manner as I have said
before."—Hobbes. Better: "The savage people ... in
America have no government at all, except the government
of families," etc.</p>
<p>"I shall have a comedy for you, in a season or two at
farthest, that I believe will be worth your acceptance."—Goldsmith.
Bettered: "In a season or two at farthest, I
shall have a comedy for you that I believe will be worth
your acceptance."</p>
<p>Among the following examples of the wrong placing of
words and clauses, there are some that are as amusing as
they are instructive: "This orthography is regarded as normal
<i>in England</i>." What the writer intended was, "in England
<i>as normal</i>"—a very different thought. "The Normal
School is a commodious building capable of accommodating
three hundred students four stories high." "<span class="smcap">Housekeeper.</span>—A
highly respectable middle-aged Person who has been<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></SPAN></span>
filling the above Situation with a gentleman for upwards of
eleven years and who is now deceased is anxious to meet a
similar one." "<span class="smcap">To Piano-Forte Makers.</span>—A lady keeping
a first-class school requiring a good piano, is desirous of
receiving a daughter of the above in exchange for the same."
"The Moor, seizing a bolster boiling over with rage and
jealousy, smothers her." "The Dying Zouave the most
wonderful mechanical representation ever seen of the last
breath of life being shot in the breast and life's blood leaving
the wound." "Mr. T—— presents his compliments to
Mr. H——, and I have got a hat that is not his, and, if he
have a hat that is not yours, no doubt they are the expectant
ones." See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Only">Only</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Misplaced Words.</b> "Of all the faults to be found
in writing," says Cobbett, "this is one of the most common,
and perhaps it leads to the greatest number of misconceptions.
All the words may be the proper words to
be used upon the occasion, and yet, by a <i>misplacing</i> of a
part of them, the meaning may be wholly destroyed; and
even made to be the contrary of what it ought to be."</p>
<p>"I asked the question with no other intention than to
set the gentleman free from the necessity of silence, and to
give him an opportunity of mingling on equal terms with a
polite assembly from which, <i>however uneasy</i>, he could not
then <i>escape</i>, <i>by a kind introduction</i> of the only subject on
which I believed him to be able to speak with propriety."—Dr.
Johnson.</p>
<p>"This," says Cobbett, "is a very bad sentence altogether.
'<i>However uneasy</i>' applies to <i>assembly</i> and not to
<i>gentleman</i>. Only observe how easily this might have been
avoided. 'From which <i>he</i>, <i>however uneasy</i>, could not then
escape.' After this we have, '<i>he</i> could not then <i>escape</i>, <i>by
a kind introduction</i>.' We know what is <i>meant</i>; but the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></SPAN></span>
Doctor, with all his <i>commas</i>, leaves the sentence confused.
Let us see whether we can not make it clear. 'I asked the
question with no other intention than, by a kind introduction
of the only subject on which I believed him to be able
to speak with propriety, to set the gentleman free from the
necessity of silence, and to give him an opportunity of
mingling on equal terms with a polite assembly from which
he, however uneasy, could not then escape.'"</p>
<p>"Reason is the glory of human nature, and one of the
chief eminences whereby we are raised above our fellow-creatures,
the brutes, <i>in this lower world</i>."—Doctor Watts'
"Logic."</p>
<p>"I have before showed an error," Cobbett remarks, "in
the <i>first</i> sentence of Doctor Watts' work. This is the
<i>second</i> sentence. The words <i>in this lower world</i> are not
words <i>misplaced</i> only; they are wholly <i>unnecessary</i>, and
they do great harm; for they do these two things: first,
they imply <i>that there are brutes in the higher world</i>; and,
second, they excite a doubt <i>whether we are raised above
those brutes</i>.</p>
<p>"I might greatly extend the number of my extracts from
these authors; but here, I trust, are enough. I had noted
down about <i>two hundred errors</i> in Dr. Johnson's 'Lives of
the Poets'; but, afterward perceiving that he had revised
and corrected 'The Rambler' with <i>extraordinary care</i>, I
chose to make my extracts from that work rather than from
the 'Lives of the Poets.'"</p>
<p>The position of the adverb should be as near as possible
to the word it qualifies. Sometimes we place it before the
auxiliary and sometimes after it, according to the thought
we wish to express. The difference between "The fish
should <i>properly</i> be broiled" and "The fish should be <i>properly</i>
broiled" is apparent at a glance. "The colon may be<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></SPAN></span>
<i>properly</i> used in the following cases": should be, "may
<i>properly</i> be used." "This mode of expression <i>rather suits</i>
a familiar than a grave style": should be, "suits a familiar
<i>rather than</i> a grave style." "It is a frequent error <i>in the
writings even</i> of some good authors": should be, "in the
writings of <i>even some good</i> authors." "<i>Both</i> the circumstances
of contingency and futurity are necessary": should
be, "The circumstances of contingency and futurity are <i>both</i>
necessary." "He has made charges ... which he has
failed <i>utterly</i> to sustain."—"New York Tribune." Here
it is uncertain at first sight which verb the adverb is intended
to qualify; but the nature of the case makes it
probable that the writer meant "has utterly failed to sustain."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Mistaken" id="Mistaken"></SPAN>Mistaken.</b> "If I am not <i>mistaken</i>, you are in the
wrong": say, "If I <i>mistake not</i>." "I tell you, you are
<i>mistaken</i>." Here <i>mistaken</i> means, "You are wrong; you
do not understand"; but it might be taken to mean, "I
<i>mistake you</i>." For "you are <i>mistaken</i>," say, "you <i>mistake</i>."
If, as Horace and Professor Davidson aver, usage
in language makes right, then the grammarians ought long
ago to have invented some theory upon which the locution
<i>you are mistaken</i> could be defended. Until they do invent
such a theory, it will be better to say <i>you mistake</i>, <i>he mistakes</i>,
and so on; or <i>you are</i>, or <i>he is</i>—as the case may be—<i>in
error</i>.</p>
<p><b>More perfect.</b> Such expressions as, "the <i>more</i> perfect
of the two," "the <i>most</i> perfect thing of the kind I have
ever seen," "the <i>most</i> complete cooking-stove ever invented,"
and the like, can not be defended logically, as nothing
can be more perfect than perfection, or more complete
than completeness. Still such phrases are, and probably
will continue to be, used by good writers.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Most.</b> "Everybody abuses this word," says Mr. Gould
in his "Good English"; and then, in another paragraph, he
adds: "If a man would cross out <i>most</i> wherever he can
find it in any book in the English language, he would in
<i>al</i>most every instance improve the style of the book."
That this statement may appear within bounds, he gives
many examples from good authors, some of which are the
following: "a <i>most</i> profound silence"; "a <i>most</i> just idea";
"a <i>most</i> complete orator"; "this was <i>most</i> extraordinary";
"an object of <i>most</i> perfect esteem"; "a <i>most</i> extensive
erudition"; "he gave it <i>most</i> liberally away"; "it is, <i>most</i>
assuredly, not because I value his services least"; "would
<i>most</i> seriously affect us"; "that such a system must <i>most</i>
widely and <i>most</i> powerfully," etc.; "it is <i>most</i> effectually
nailed to the counter"; "it is <i>most</i> undeniable that," etc.</p>
<p>This word is much, and very erroneously, used for <i>almost</i>.
"He comes here <i>most</i> every day." The user of
such a sentence as this means to say that he comes <i>nearly</i>
every day, but he <i>really says</i>, if he says anything, that he
comes more every day than he does every night. In such
sentences <i>almost</i>, and not <i>most</i>, is the word to use.</p>
<p><b>Mutual.</b> This word is much misused in the phrase
"our <i>mutual</i> friend." Macaulay says: "<i>Mutual</i> friend is
a low vulgarism for <i>common</i> friend." <i>Mutual</i> properly relates
to two persons, and implies reciprocity of sentiment—sentiment,
be it what it may, received and returned. Thus,
we say properly, "John and James have a <i>mutual</i> affection,
or a <i>mutual</i> aversion," i. e., they like or dislike each
other; or, "John and James are <i>mutually</i> dependent," i. e.,
they are dependent on each other. In using the word <i>mutual</i>,
care should be taken not to add the words <i>for each
other</i> or <i>on each other</i>, the thought conveyed by these words
being already expressed in the word <i>mutual</i>. "Dependent<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></SPAN></span>
on each other" is the exact equivalent of "mutually dependent";
hence, saying that John and James are <i>mutually</i>
dependent <i>on each other</i> is as redundant in form as it would
be to say that the editors of "The Great Vilifier" are the
biggest, greatest mud-slingers in America.</p>
<p><b>Myself.</b> This form of the personal pronoun is properly
used in the nominative case only where <i>increased emphasis</i>
is aimed at.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"I had as lief not be as live to be<br/></span>
<span class="i0">In awe of such a thing as I <i>myself</i>."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"I will do it <i>myself</i>," "I saw it <i>myself</i>." It is, therefore,
incorrect to say, "Mrs. Brown and myself were both very
much pleased."</p>
<p><b>Name.</b> This word is sometimes improperly used for
<i>mention</i>; thus, "I never <i>named</i> the matter to any one":
should be, "I never <i>mentioned</i> the matter to any one."</p>
<p><b>Neighborhood.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Vicinity">Vicinity</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Neither.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Either">Either</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Neither—Nor.</b> "He would <i>neither</i> give wine, <i>nor</i> oil,
<i>nor</i> money."—Thackeray. The conjunction should be
placed before the excluded object; "neither <i>give</i>" implies
neither some other <i>verb</i>, a meaning not intended. Rearrange
thus, taking all the common parts of the contracted
sentences together: "He would give <i>neither</i> wine, <i>nor</i> oil,
<i>nor</i> money." So, "She can <i>neither</i> help her beauty, <i>nor</i>
her courage, <i>nor</i> her cruelty" (Thackeray), should be, "She
can help <i>neither</i>," etc. "He had <i>neither</i> time to intercept
<i>nor</i> to stop her" (Scott), should be, "He had time <i>neither</i>
to intercept," etc. "Some <i>neither</i> can for wits <i>nor</i> critics
pass" (Pope), should be, "Some can <i>neither</i> for wits <i>nor</i>
critics pass."</p>
<p><b>Never.</b> Grammarians differ with regard to the correctness
of using <i>never</i> in such sentences as, "He is in error,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></SPAN></span>
though <i>never</i> so wise," "Charm he <i>never</i> so wisely." In
sentences like these, to say the least, it is better, in common
with the great majority of writers, to use <i>ever</i>.</p>
<p><b>New.</b> This adjective is often misplaced. "He has a
<i>new</i> suit of clothes and a <i>new</i> pair of gloves." It is not
the <i>suit</i> and the <i>pair</i> that are new, but the <i>clothes</i> and the
<i>gloves</i>.</p>
<p><b>Nice.</b> Archdeacon Hare remarks of the use, or rather
misuse, of this word: "That stupid vulgarism by which we
use the word <i>nice</i> to denote almost every mode of approbation,
for almost every variety of quality, and, from sheer
poverty of thought, or fear of saying anything definite,
wrap up everything indiscriminately in this characterless
domino, speaking at the same breath of a <i>nice</i> cheese-cake,
a <i>nice</i> tragedy, a <i>nice</i> sermon, a <i>nice</i> day, a <i>nice</i> country,
as if a universal deluge of <i>niaiserie</i>—for <i>nice</i> seems originally
to have been only <i>niais</i>—had whelmed the whole island."
Nice is as good a word as any other in its place,
but its place is not everywhere. We talk very properly
about a <i>nice</i> distinction, a <i>nice</i> discrimination, a <i>nice</i> calculation,
a <i>nice</i> point, and about a person's being <i>nice</i>, and
over-<i>nice</i>, and the like; but we certainly ought not to talk
about "Othello's" being a <i>nice</i> tragedy, about Salvini's being
a <i>nice</i> actor, or New York bay's being a <i>nice</i> harbor.<SPAN name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</SPAN></p>
<p><b>Nicely.</b> The very quintessence of popinjay vulgarity is
reached when <i>nicely</i> is made to do service for <i>well</i>, in this
wise: "How do you do?" "<i>Nicely</i>." "How are you?"
"<i>Nicely</i>."</p>
<p><b>No.</b> This word of negation is responded to by <i>nor</i> in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></SPAN></span>
sentences like this: "Let your meaning be obscure, and
<i>no</i> grace of diction <i>nor</i> any music of well-turned sentences
will make amends."</p>
<p>"Whether he is there or <i>no</i>." Supply the ellipsis, and
we have, "Whether he is there or <i>no</i> there." Clearly,
the word to use in sentences like this is not <i>no</i>, but <i>not</i>.
And yet our best writers sometimes inadvertently use <i>no</i>
with <i>whether</i>. Example: "But perhaps some people are
quite indifferent <i>whether</i> or <i>no</i> it is said," etc.—Richard
Grant White, in "Words and Their Uses," p. 84. Supply
the ellipsis, and we have, "said or <i>no</i> said." In a little
book entitled "Live and Learn," I find, "No <i>less</i> than
fifty persons were there; No <i>fewer</i>," etc. In correcting
one mistake, the writer himself makes one. It should be,
"<i>Not</i> fewer," etc. If we ask, "There were fifty persons
there, were there or were there <i>not</i>?" the reply clearly
would be, "There were <i>not</i> fewer than fifty." "There
was <i>no</i> one of them who would not have been proud," etc.,
should be, "There was <i>not</i> one of them."</p>
<p><b>Not.</b> The correlative of <i>not</i>, when it stands in the first
member of a sentence, is <i>nor</i> or <i>neither</i>. "<i>Not</i> for thy
ivory <i>nor</i> thy gold will I unbind thy chain." "I will <i>not</i>
do it, <i>neither</i> shall you."</p>
<p>The wrong placing of <i>not</i> often gives rise to an imperfect
negation; thus, "John and James were <i>not</i> there,"
means that John and James were not there <i>in company</i>. It
does not exclude the presence of one of them. The negative
should precede in this case: "Neither John <i>nor</i> James
was there." "Our company was <i>not</i> present" (as a company,
but some of us might have been), should be, "No
member of our company was present."</p>
<p><b>Not—but only.</b> "Errors frequently arise in the use
of <i>not</i>—but <i>only</i>, to understand which we must attend to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></SPAN></span>
the force of the whole expression. 'He did <i>not</i> pretend to
extirpate French music, <i>but only</i> to cultivate and civilize it.'
Here the <i>not</i> is obviously misplaced. 'He pretended, or
professed, <i>not</i> to extirpate.'"—Bain.</p>
<p><b>Notorious.</b> Though this word can not be properly
used in any but a bad sense, we sometimes see it used
instead of <i>noted</i>, which may be used in either a good or a
bad sense. <i>Notorious</i> characters are always persons to be
shunned, whereas <i>noted</i> characters may or may not be persons
to be shunned.</p>
<p>"This is the tax a man must pay for his virtues—they
hold up a torch to his vices and render those frailties <i>notorious</i>
in him which would pass without observation in another."—Lacon.</p>
<p><b>Novice.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Amateur">Amateur</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Number.</b> It is not an uncommon thing for a pronoun
in the plural number to be used in connection with an
antecedent in the singular. At present, the following notice
may be seen in some of our Broadway omnibuses: "Fifty
dollars reward for the conviction of any person caught collecting
or keeping fares given to <i>them</i> to deposit in the
box." Should be, to <i>him</i>. "A person may be very near-sighted
if <i>they</i> can not recognize an acquaintance ten feet
off." Should be, if <i>he</i>.</p>
<p>The verb <i>to be</i> is often used in the singular instead of
in the plural; thus, "There <i>is</i> several reasons why it would
be better": say, <i>are</i>. "How many <i>is</i> there?" say, <i>are</i>.
"There <i>is</i> four": say, <i>are</i>. "<i>Was</i> there many?" say, <i>were</i>.
"No matter how many there <i>was</i>": say, <i>were</i>.</p>
<p>A verb should agree in number with its subject, and not
with its predicate. We say, for example, "Death <i>is</i> the
wages of sin," and "The wages of sin <i>are</i> death."</p>
<p>"When singular nouns connected by <i>and</i> are preceded<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></SPAN></span>
by <i>each</i>, <i>every</i>, or <i>no</i>, the verb must be singular." We say,
for example, "<i>Each</i> boy and <i>each</i> girl <i>studies</i>." "<i>Every</i> leaf,
and <i>every</i> twig, and <i>every</i> drop of water <i>teems</i> with life."
"<i>No</i> book and <i>no</i> paper <i>was</i> arranged."</p>
<p><i>Each</i> being singular, a pronoun or verb to agree with
it must also be singular; thus, "Let them depend each on
<i>his</i> own exertions"; "Each city has <i>its</i> peculiar privileges";
"Everybody has a right to look after <i>his</i> own interest."</p>
<p>Errors are often the result of not repeating the verb;
thus, "Its significance is as varied as the passions": correctly,
"as <i>are</i> the passions." "The words are as incapable
of analysis as the thing signified": correctly, "as <i>is</i>
the thing signified."</p>
<p><b>Observe.</b> The dictionaries authorize the use of this
word as a synonym of <i>say</i> and <i>remark</i>; as, for example,
"What did you <i>observe</i>?" for "What did you <i>say</i>, or <i>remark</i>?"
In this sense, however, it is better to leave <i>observe</i>
to the exclusive use of those who delight in being
fine.</p>
<p><b>O'clock.</b> "It is a quarter <i>to</i> ten o'clock." What does
this statement mean, literally? We <i>understand</i> by it that
it lacks a quarter of ten, i. e., of being ten; but it does not
really mean that. Inasmuch as <i>to</i> means toward, it <i>really</i>
means a quarter after nine. We should say, then, a quarter
<i>of</i>, which means, literally, a quarter <i>out of</i> ten.</p>
<p><b>Of all others.</b> "The vice of covetousness, <i>of all others</i>,
enters deepest into the soul." This sentence says that
covetousness is one of the <i>other</i> vices. A thing can not be
<i>another</i> thing, nor can it be one of a number of <i>other</i> things.
The sentence should be, "Of all the vices, covetousness enters
deepest into the soul"; or, "The vice of covetousness,
of all the vices, enters," etc.; or, "The vice of covetousness,
<i>above</i> all others, enters," etc.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Of any.</b> This phrase is often used when <i>of all</i> is
meant; thus, "This is the largest <i>of any</i> I have seen."
Should be, "the largest <i>of all</i>," etc.</p>
<p><b>Off of.</b> In such sentences as, "Give me a yard <i>off of</i>
this piece of calico," either the <i>off</i> or the <i>of</i> is vulgarly superfluous.
The sentence would be correct with either one,
but not with both of them. "The apples fell <i>off of</i> the
tree": read, "fell <i>off</i> the tree."</p>
<p><b>Often.</b> This adverb is properly compared by changing
its termination: often, oftener, oftenest. Why some writers
use <i>more</i> and <i>most</i> to compare it, it is not easy to see; this
mode of comparing it is certainly not euphonious.</p>
<p><b>Oh—O.</b> It is only the most careful writers who use
these two interjections with proper discrimination. The
distinction between them is said to be modern. <i>Oh</i> is
simply an exclamation, and should always be followed by
some mark of punctuation, usually by an exclamation point.
"Oh! you are come at last." "Oh, help him, you sweet
heavens!" "Oh, woe is me!" "Oh! I die, Horatio."
<i>O</i>, in addition to being an exclamation, denotes a calling to
or adjuration; thus, "Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O
earth!" "O grave, where is thy victory?" "O heavenly
powers, restore him!" "O shame! where is thy blush?"</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Older" id="Older"></SPAN>Older—Elder.</b> "He is the <i>older</i> man of the two, and
the <i>oldest</i> in the neighborhood." "He is the <i>elder</i> of the
two sons, and the <i>eldest</i> of the family." "The <i>elder</i> son is
heir to the estate; he is <i>older</i> than his brother by ten years."</p>
<p><b>On to.</b> We get <i>on</i> a chair, <i>on</i> an omnibus, <i>on</i> a stump,
and <i>on</i> a spree, and not on <i>to</i>.</p>
<p><b>One.</b> Certain pronouns of demonstrative signification
are called indefinite because they refer to no particular
subject. This is one of them. If we were putting a supposition
by way of argument or illustration, we might say,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></SPAN></span>
"Suppose <i>I</i> were to lose my way in a wood"; or, "Suppose
<i>you</i> were to lose your way in a wood"; or, "Suppose <i>one</i>
were to lose <i>one's</i> way in a wood." All these forms are
used, but, as a rule, the last is to be preferred. The first
verges on egotism, and the second makes free with another's
person, whereas the third is indifferent. "If <i>one's</i> honesty
were impeached, what should <i>one</i> do?" is more courtly than
to take either one's self or the person addressed for the
example.</p>
<p><i>One</i> should be followed by <i>one</i>, and not by <i>he</i>. "The
better acquainted <i>one</i> is with any kind of rhetorical trick,
the less liable <i>he</i> is to be misled by it." Should be, "the
less liable <i>one</i> is to be misled by it."</p>
<p>In the phrase, "any of the little <i>ones</i>," <i>one</i> is the numeral
employed in the manner of a pronoun, by indicating something
that has gone before, or, perhaps, has to come after.
"I like peaches, but I must have a ripe <i>one</i>, or ripe <i>ones</i>."</p>
<p>Professor Bain says, in his "Composition Grammar":</p>
<p>"This pronoun continually lands writers in difficulties.
English idiom requires that, when the pronoun has to be
again referred to, it should be used itself a second time.
The correct usage is shown by Pope: '<i>One</i> may be ashamed
to consume half <i>one's</i> days in bringing sense and rhyme together.'
It would be against idiom to say 'half <i>his</i> days.'</p>
<p>"Still, the repetition of the pronoun is often felt to be
heavy, and writers have recourse to various substitutions.
Even an ear accustomed to the idiom can scarcely accept
with unmixed pleasure this instance from Browning:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i8">"'Alack! <i>one</i> lies <i>oneself</i><br/></span>
<span class="i0">Even in the stating that <i>one's</i> end was truth,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Truth only, if <i>one</i> states so much in words.'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"The representative 'I' or 'we' occasionally acts the
part of 'one.' The following sentence presents a curious<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></SPAN></span>
alternation of 'we' with 'one'—possibly not accidental
(George Eliot): 'It's a desperately vexatious thing that,
after all <i>one's</i> reflections and quiet determinations, <i>we</i> should
be ruled by moods that <i>one</i> can't calculate on beforehand.'
By the use of 'we' here, a more pointed reference is suggested,
while the vagueness actually remains.</p>
<p>"Fenimore Cooper, like Scott, is not very particular; an
example may be quoted: 'Modesty is a poor man's wealth;
but, as <i>we</i> grow substantial in the world, patroon, <i>one</i> can
afford to begin to speak truth of <i>himself</i> as well as of <i>his</i>
neighbor.' Were Cooper a careful writer, we might persuade
ourselves that he chose 'we' and 'one' with a purpose:
'we' might indicate that the speaker had himself
and the patroon directly in his eye, although at the same
time he wanted to put it generally; and 'one' might hint
that modesty succeeded in getting the better of him. But
'himself' and 'his' would alone show that such speculations
are too refined for the occasion.</p>
<p>"The form 'a man,' which was at one time common,
seems to be reviving. In 'Adam Bede' we have, '<i>A man</i>
can never do anything at variance with his own nature.'
We might substitute 'one.'</p>
<p>"'Men' was more frequent in good writing formerly
than now. 'Neither do <i>men</i> light a candle, and put it
under a bushel.' 'Do <i>men</i> gather grapes of thorns?'
Hume is fond of expressing a general subject by 'men.'</p>
<p>"'Small birds are much more exposed to the cold than
large <i>ones</i>.' This usage is hardly 'indefinite'; and it
needs no further exemplification."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Only" id="Only"></SPAN>Only.</b> This word, when used as an adjective, is more
frequently misplaced than any other word in the language.
Indeed, I am confident that it is not correctly placed half
the time, either in conversation or in writing. Thus, "In<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></SPAN></span>
its pages, papers of sterling merit [only] will <i>only</i> appear"
(Miss Braddon); "Things are getting dull down in Texas;
they <i>only</i> shot [only] three men down there last week";
"I have <i>only</i> got [only] three." <i>Only</i> is sometimes improperly
used for <i>except</i> or <i>unless</i>; thus, "The trains will
not stop <i>only</i> when the bell rings." The meaning here is
clearly "<i>except</i> when the bell rings."</p>
<p>Dr. Bain, in his "Higher English Grammar," speaking
of the order of words, says:</p>
<p>"The word requiring most attention is <i>only</i>.</p>
<p>"According to the position of <i>only</i>, the same words may
be made to express very different meanings.</p>
<p>"'He <i>only</i> lived for their sakes.' Here <i>only</i> must be
held as qualifying '<i>lived</i> for their sakes,' the emphasis being
on <i>lived</i>, the word immediately adjoining. The meaning
then is 'he <i>lived</i>,' but did not <i>work</i>, did not <i>die</i>, did not do
any other thing for their sakes.</p>
<p>"'He lived <i>only</i> for their sakes.' <i>Only</i> now qualifies
'for their sakes,' and the sentence means he lived for this
one reason, namely, for their sakes, and not for any other
reason.</p>
<p>"'He lived for their sakes <i>only</i>.' The force of the word
when placed at the end is peculiar. Then it often has a
diminutive or disparaging signification. 'He lived for their
sakes,' and not for any more worthy reason. 'He gave
sixpence <i>only</i>,' is an insinuation that more was expected.</p>
<p>"By the use of <i>alone</i>, instead of <i>only</i>, other meanings
are expressed. 'He <i>alone</i> lived for their sakes'; that is,
<i>he, and nobody else</i>, did so. 'He lived for their sakes <i>alone</i>,'
or, 'for the sake of them <i>alone</i>'; that is, not for the sake
of any other persons. 'It was <i>alone</i> by the help of the Confederates
that any such design could be carried out.' Better
<i>only</i>.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"'When men grow virtuous in their old age, they <i>only</i>
make a sacrifice to God of the devil's leavings.'—Pope.
Here <i>only</i> is rightly placed. 'Think <i>only</i> of the past as its
remembrance gives you pleasure,' should be, 'think of the
past, <i>only</i> as its remembrance,' etc. 'As he did not leave
his name, it was <i>only</i> known that a gentleman had called
on business': it was known <i>only</i>. 'I can <i>only</i> refute the
accusation by laying before you the whole': this would
mean, 'the only thing I am able to do is to refute; I may
not retaliate, or let it drop, I must <i>refute</i> it.' 'The negroes
are to appear at church <i>only</i> in boots'; that is, when the
negroes go to church they are to have no clothing but boots.
'The negroes are to appear <i>only</i> at church in boots' might
mean that they are not to appear anywhere but at church,
whether in boots or out of them. The proper arrangement
would be to connect the adverbial adjunct, <i>in boots</i>, with
its verb, <i>appear</i>, and to make <i>only</i> qualify <i>at church</i> and
no more: 'the negroes are to appear in boots <i>only</i> at
church.'"</p>
<p>It thus appears very plain that we should look well to
our <i>onlys</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Ought" id="Ought"></SPAN>Ought—Should.</b> These two words, though they both
imply obligation, should not be used indiscriminately. <i>Ought</i>
is the stronger term; what we <i>ought</i> to do, we are morally
bound to do. We <i>ought</i> to be truthful and honest, and
<i>should</i> be respectful to our elders and kind to our inferiors.</p>
<p><b>Overflown.</b> <i>Flown</i> is the past participle of <i>to fly</i>, and
<i>flowed</i> of <i>to flow</i>. As, therefore, a river does not <i>fly</i> over
its banks, but <i>flows</i> over them, we should say of it that it
has over<i>flowed</i>, and not that it has over<i>flown</i>.</p>
<p><b>Overly.</b> This word is now used only by the unschooled.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Owing.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Due">Due</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Pants.</b> This abbreviation is not used by those who are
careful in the choice of words. The purist does not use
the word <i>pantaloons</i> even, but <i>trousers</i>. <i>Pants</i> are worn
by <i>gents</i> who eat <i>lunches</i> and <i>open</i> wine, and <i>trousers</i> are
worn by <i>gentlemen</i> who eat <i>luncheons</i> and <i>order</i> wine.</p>
<p><b>Paraphernalia.</b> This is a law term. In Roman law,
it meant the goods which a woman brought to her husband
besides her dowry. In English law, it means the goods
which a woman is allowed to have after the death of her
husband, besides her dower, consisting of her apparel and
ornaments suitable to her rank. When used in speaking
of the affairs of every-day life, it is generally misused.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Parlor" id="Parlor"></SPAN>Parlor.</b> This word, in the sense of <i>drawing-room</i>, according
to Dr. Hall, except in the United States and some
of the English colonies, is obsolete.</p>
<p><b>Partake.</b> This is a very fine word to use for <i>eat</i>;
just the word for young women who hobble on French
heels.</p>
<p><b>Partially—Partly.</b> "It is only <i>partially</i> done." This
use of the adverb <i>partially</i> is sanctioned by high authority,
but that does not make it correct. A thing done in part
is <i>partly</i>, not <i>partially</i>, done.</p>
<p><b>Participles.</b> When the present participle is used substantively,
in sentences like the following, it is preceded
by the definite article and followed by the preposition <i>of</i>.
The omitting of the preposition is a common error. Thus,
"Or, it is <i>the drawing</i> a conclusion which was before either
unknown or dark," should be, "the drawing <i>of</i> a conclusion."
"Prompted by the most extreme vanity, he persisted
in the writing bad verses," should be, "in writing
bad verses," or "in the writing <i>of</i> bad verses." "There
is a misuse of the article <i>a</i> which is very common. It is<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></SPAN></span>
the using it before the word <i>most</i>."—Moon. Most writers
would have said "the using <i>of</i> it." Mr. Moon argues for
his construction.</p>
<p><b>Particles.</b> "Nothing but study of the best writers and
practice in composition will enable us to decide what are
the prepositions and conjunctions that ought to go with
certain verbs. The following examples illustrate some
common blunders:</p>
<p>"'It was characterized <i>with</i> eloquence': read, 'by.'</p>
<p>"'A testimonial <i>of</i> the merits of his grammar': read,
'to.'</p>
<p>"'It was an example of the love <i>to form</i> comparisons':
read, 'of forming.'</p>
<p>"'Repetition is always to be preferred <i>before</i> obscurity':
read, 'to.'</p>
<p>"'He made an effort <i>for meeting</i> them': read, 'to
meet.'</p>
<p>"'They have no <i>other</i> object <i>but</i> to come': read, 'other
object than,' or omit 'other.'</p>
<p>"Two verbs are not unfrequently followed by a single
preposition, which accords with one only; e. g., 'This
duty <i>is repeated</i> and inculcated <i>upon</i> the reader.' 'Repeat
<i>upon</i>' is nonsense; we must read 'is repeated <i>to</i> and inculcated
upon.'"—Nichol's "English Composition," p. 39.
We often see <i>for</i> used with the substantive <i>sympathy</i>; the
best practice, however, uses <i>with</i>; thus, "Words can not
express the deep sympathy I feel <i>with</i> you."—Queen Victoria.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Party" id="Party"></SPAN>Party.</b> This is a very good word in its place, but it
is very much out of its place when used—as it often is
by the vulgar—where good taste would use the word
<i>person</i>.</p>
<p><b>Patronize.</b> This word and its derivatives would be<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></SPAN></span>
much less used by the American tradesman than they are,
if he were better acquainted with their true meaning. Then
he would solicit his neighbors' <i>custom</i>, not their <i>patronage</i>.
A man can have no <i>patrons</i> without incurring obligations—without
becoming a <i>protégé</i>; while a man may have customers
innumerable, and, instead of placing himself under
obligations to them, he may place them under obligations
to him. Princes are the <i>patrons</i> of those tradesmen whom
they allow to call themselves their purveyors; as, "John
Smith, Haberdasher to H. R. H. the Prince of Wales."
Here the Prince <i>patronizes</i> John Smith.</p>
<p><b>Pell-mell.</b> This adverb means mixed or mingled together;
as, "Men, horses, chariots, crowded <i>pell-mell</i>." It
can not properly be applied to an individual. To say, for
example, "He rushed pell-mell down the stairs," is as incorrect
as it would be to say, "He rushed down the stairs
<i>mixed together</i>."</p>
<p><b>Per.</b> This Latin preposition is a good deal used in
English, as, for example, in such phrases as <i>per</i> day, <i>per</i>
man, <i>per</i> pound, <i>per</i> ton, and so on. In all such cases it
is better to use plain English, and say, <i>a</i> day, <i>a</i> man, <i>a</i>
pound, <i>a</i> ton, etc. <i>Per</i> is correct before Latin nouns only;
as, per annum, per diem, per cent., etc.</p>
<p><b>Perform.</b> "She <i>performs</i> on the piano beautifully."
In how much better taste it is to say simply, "She <i>plays</i>
the piano well," or, more superlatively, "exceedingly well,"
or "admirably"! If we talk about <i>performing</i> on musical
instruments, to be consistent, we should call those who
<i>perform</i>, piano-performers, cornet-performers, violin-performers,
and so on.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Perpetually" id="Perpetually"></SPAN>Perpetually.</b> This word is sometimes misused for
<i>continually</i>. Dr. William Mathews, in his "Words, their
Use and Abuse," says: "The Irish are <i>perpetually</i> using<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></SPAN></span>
<i>shall</i> for <i>will</i>." <i>Perpetual</i> means never ceasing, continuing
without intermission, uninterrupted; while <i>continual</i>
means that which is constantly renewed and recurring with
perhaps frequent stops and interruptions. As the Irish
do something <i>besides</i> misuse <i>shall</i>, the Doctor should have
said that they <i>continually</i> use <i>shall</i> for <i>will</i>. I might perhaps
venture to intimate that <i>perpetually</i> is likewise misused
in the following sentence, which I copy from the "London
Queen," if I were not conscious that the monster who can
write and print such a sentence would not hesitate to cable
a thunderbolt at an offender on the slightest provocation.
Judge, if my fears are groundless: "But some few people
contract the ugly habit of making use of these expressions
unconsciously and continuously, <i>perpetually</i> interlarding
their conversation with them."</p>
<p><b>Person.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Party">Party</SPAN></span>; also, <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Individual">Individual</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Personalty.</b> This word does not, as some persons
think, mean the articles worn on one's person. It is properly
a law term, and means <i>personal property</i>. "There is
but one case on record of a peer of England leaving over
$7,500,000 personalty."</p>
<p><b>Personification.</b> That rhetorical figure which attributes
sex, life, or action to inanimate objects, or ascribes to
objects and brutes the acts and qualities of rational beings,
is called <i>personification</i> or <i>prosopopœia</i>.</p>
<p>"The mountains <i>sing together</i>, the hills rejoice and <i>clap
their hands</i>." "The worm, <i>aware</i> of his intent, <i>harangued</i>
him thus."</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"See, <i>Winter</i> comes to <i>rule</i> the varied year,<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Sullen</i> and <i>sad</i> with all his rising train."—Thomson.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"So saying, her rash hand, in evil hour,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Forth reaching to the fruit, she plucked, she ate!<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat,</i><br/></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></SPAN></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe,</i><br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>That all was lost.</i>"—Milton.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"War and Love are strange compeers.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">War sheds blood, and Love sheds tears;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">War has swords, and Love has darts;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">War breaks heads, and Love breaks hearts."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"Levity is often less foolish and gravity less wise than
each of them appears."</p>
<p>"The English language, by reserving the distinction
of gender for living beings that have sex, gives especial
scope for personification. The highest form of personification
should be used seldom, and only when justified by the
presence of strong feeling."—Bain.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Have ofttimes no connection. Knowledge dwells<br/></span>
<span class="i0">In heads replete with thoughts of other men;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Wisdom is humble that he knows no more."—Cowper.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><b>Phenomenon.</b> Plural, <i>phenomena</i>.</p>
<p><b>Plead.</b> The imperfect tense and the perfect participle
of the verb <i>to plead</i> are both <i>pleaded</i> and not <i>plead</i>. "He
<i>pleaded</i> not guilty." "You should have <i>pleaded</i> your cause
with more fervor."</p>
<p><b>Plenty.</b> In Worcester's Dictionary we find the following
note: "<i>Plenty</i> is much used colloquially as an adjective,
in the sense of <i>plentiful</i>, both in this country and in
England; and this use is supported by respectable authorities,
though it is condemned by various critics. Johnson
says: 'It is used barbarously, I think, for <i>plentiful</i>'; and
Dr. Campbell, in his 'Philosophy of Rhetoric,' says: '<i>Plenty</i>
for <i>plentiful</i> appears to me so gross a vulgarism that I
should not have thought it worthy of a place here if I had<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></SPAN></span>
not sometimes found it in works of considerable merit.'"
We should say, then, that money is <i>plentiful</i>, and not that
it is <i>plenty</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Pleonasm" id="Pleonasm"></SPAN>Pleonasm.</b> Redundancy or pleonasm is the use of more
words than are necessary to express the thought clearly.
"They returned <i>back again</i> to the <i>same</i> city <i>from</i> whence
they came <i>forth</i>": the five words in italics are <i>redundant</i>
or <i>pleonastic</i>. "The different departments of science and
of art <i>mutually</i> reflect light <i>on each other</i>": either of the
expressions in italics embodies the whole idea. "The <i>universal</i>
opinion of <i>all</i> men" is a pleonastic expression often
heard. "I wrote you <i>a letter</i> yesterday": here <i>a letter</i> is
redundant.</p>
<p>Redundancy is <i>sometimes</i> permissible for the surer conveyance
of meaning, for emphasis, and in the language of
poetic embellishment.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Polite" id="Polite"></SPAN>Polite.</b> This word is much used by persons of doubtful
culture, where those of the better sort use the word
<i>kind</i>. We accept <i>kind</i>, not <i>polite</i> invitations; and, when
any one has been obliging, we tell him that he has been
<i>kind</i>; and, when an interviewing reporter tells us of his
having met with a <i>polite</i> reception, we may be sure that the
person by whom he has been received deserves well for his
considerate kindness. "I thank you and Mrs. Pope for
my <i>kind</i> reception."—Atterbury.</p>
<p><b>Portion.</b> This word is often incorrectly used for <i>part</i>.
A <i>portion</i> is properly a part assigned, allotted, set aside for
a special purpose; a share, a division. The verb <i>to portion</i>
means to divide, to parcel, to endow. We ask, therefore,
"In what <i>part</i> [not, in what <i>portion</i>] of the country,
state, county, town, or street do you live?"—or, if we prefer
grandiloquence to correctness, <i>reside</i>. In the sentence,
"A large <i>portion</i> of the land is unfilled," the right word<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></SPAN></span>
would be either <i>part</i> or <i>proportion</i>, according to the intention
of the writer.</p>
<p><b>Posted.</b> A word very much and very inelegantly used
for <i>informed</i>. Such expressions as, "I will <i>post</i> you," "I
must <i>post</i> myself up," "If I had been better <i>posted</i>," and
the like, are, at the best, but one remove from slang.</p>
<p><b>Predicate.</b> This word is often very incorrectly used
in the sense of <i>to base</i>; as, "He <i>predicates</i> his opinion on
insufficient data." Then we sometimes hear people talk
about predicating an action upon certain information or
upon somebody's statement. To predicate means primarily
<i>to speak before</i>, and has come to be properly used in the
sense of <i>assumed</i> or believed to be the consequence of.
Examples: "Contentment is <i>predicated</i> of virtue"; "Good
health may be <i>predicated</i> of a good constitution." He who
is not very sure that he uses the word correctly would do
better not to use it at all.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Prejudice" id="Prejudice"></SPAN>Prejudice—Prepossess.</b> Both these words mean, to
incline in one direction or the other for some reason
not founded in justice; but by common consent <i>prejudice</i>
has come to be used in an unfavorable sense, and <i>prepossess</i>
in a favorable one. Thus, we say, "He is <i>prejudiced</i>
against him," and "He is <i>prepossessed</i> in his favor." We
sometimes hear the expression, "He is <i>prejudiced</i> in his
favor," but this can not be accounted a good use of the
word.</p>
<p><b>Prepositions.</b> The errors made in the use of the prepositions
are very numerous. "The indolent child is one
who [that?] has a strong aversion <i>from</i> action of any sort."—Graham's
"English Synonymes," p. 236. The prevailing
and best modern usage is in favor of <i>to</i> instead of <i>from</i>
after <i>averse</i> and <i>aversion</i>, and before the object. "Clearness
... enables the reader to see thoughts without noticing<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></SPAN></span>
the language <i>with</i> which they are clothed."—Townsend's
"Art of Speech." We clothe thoughts <i>in</i> language.
"Shakespeare ... and the Bible are ... models <i>for</i> the
English-speaking tongue."—Ibid. If this means models of
English, then it should be <i>of</i>; but if it means models for
English organs of speech to practice on, then it should be
<i>for</i>; or if it means models to model English tongues after,
then also it should be <i>for</i>. "If the resemblance is too
faint, the mind is fatigued <i>while</i> attempting to trace the
analogies." "Aristotle is in error <i>while</i> thus describing
governments."—Ibid. Here we have two examples, not
of the misuse of the preposition, but of the erroneous use
of the adverb <i>while</i> instead of the preposition <i>in</i>. "For
my part I can not think that Shelley's poetry, except <i>by</i>
snatches and fragments, has the value of the good work of
Wordsworth or Byron."—Matthew Arnold. Should be,
"except <i>in</i> snatches." "Taxes with us are collected nearly
[almost] solely <i>from</i> real and personal estate."—"Appletons'
Journal." Taxes are levied <i>on</i> estates and collected
<i>from</i> the owners.</p>
<p>"If I am not commended <i>for</i> the beauty of my works,
I may hope to be pardoned for their brevity." Cobbett
comments on this sentence as follows: "We may commend
him <i>for</i> the beauty of his works, and we may <i>pardon</i>
him <i>for</i> their brevity, if we deem the brevity <i>a fault</i>; but
this is not what he means. He means that, at any rate, he
shall have the <i>merit</i> of brevity. 'If I am not commended
for the beauty of my works, I may hope to be pardoned <i>on
account of</i> their brevity.' This is what the Doctor meant;
but this would have marred a little the antithesis: it would
have unsettled a little of the balance of that <i>seesaw</i> in
which Dr. Johnson so much delighted, and which, falling
into the hands of novel-writers and of members of Parliament,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></SPAN></span>
has, by moving unencumbered with any of the Doctor's
reason or sense, lulled so many thousands asleep!
Dr. Johnson created a race of writers and speakers. 'Mr.
Speaker, that the state of the nation is very critical, all men
will allow; but that it is wholly desperate, few will believe.'
When you hear or see a sentence like this, be sure
that the person who speaks or writes it has been reading
Dr. Johnson, or some of his imitators. But, observe, these
imitators go no further than the frame of the sentences.
They, in general, take care not to imitate the Doctor in
knowledge and reasoning."</p>
<p>The rhetoricians would have us avoid such forms of expression
as, "The boy went <i>to</i> and asked the advice <i>of</i> his
teacher"; "I called <i>on</i> and had a conversation <i>with</i> my
brother."</p>
<p>Very often the preposition is not repeated in a sentence,
when it should be. We say properly, "He comes from
Ohio or <i>from</i> Indiana"; or, "He comes <i>either</i> from Ohio
or Indiana."</p>
<p><b>Prepossess.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Prejudice">Prejudice</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Present" id="Present"></SPAN>Present—Introduce.</b> Few errors are more common,
especially among those who are always straining to be fine,
than that of using <i>present</i>, in the social world, instead of
<i>introduce</i>. <i>Present</i> means to place in the presence of a
superior; <i>introduce</i>, to bring to be acquainted. A person is
presented at court, and on an official occasion to our President;
but persons who are unknown to each other are
<i>introduced</i> by a common acquaintance. And in these introductions,
it is the younger who is introduced to the
older; the lower to the higher in place or social position;
the gentleman to the lady. A lady should say, as a rule,
that Mr. Blank was introduced to her, not that she was
introduced to Mr. Blank.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Presumptive.</b> This word is sometimes misused by the
careless for <i>presumptuous</i>.</p>
<p><b>Preventive.</b> A useless and unwarranted syllable is
sometimes added to this word—<i>preventative</i>.</p>
<p><b>Previous.</b> This adjective is much used in an adverbial
sense; thus, "<i>Previous</i> to my return," etc. Until <i>previous</i>
is recognized as an adverb, if we would speak grammatically,
we must say, "<i>Previously</i> to my return." "<i>Previously</i>
to my leaving England, I called on his lordship."</p>
<p><b>Procure.</b> This is a word much used by people who
strive to be fine. "Where did you <i>get</i> it?" with them is,
"Where did you <i>procure</i> it?"</p>
<p><b>Profanity.</b> The extent to which some men habitually
interlard their talk with oaths is disgusting even to many
who, on occasion, do not themselves hesitate to give expression
to their feelings in oaths portly and unctuous. If
these fellows could be made to know how offensive to
decency they make themselves, they would, perhaps, be
less profane.</p>
<p><b>Promise.</b> This word is sometimes very improperly
used for <i>assure</i>; thus, "I <i>promise</i> you I was very much
astonished."</p>
<p><b>Pronouns of the First Person.</b> "The ordinary uses
of 'I' and 'we,' as the singular and plural pronouns of the
first person, would appear to be above all ambiguity, uncertainty,
or dispute. Yet when we consider the force of
the plural 'we,' we are met with a contradiction; for, as
a rule, only one person can speak at the same time to the
same audience. It is only by some exceptional arrangement,
or some latitude or license of expression, that several
persons can be conjoint speakers. For example, a plurality
may sing together in chorus, and may join in the responses
at church, or in the simultaneous repetition of the Lord's<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></SPAN></span>
Prayer or the Creed. Again, one person may be the authorized
spokesman in delivering a judgment or opinion
held by a number of persons in common. Finally, in written
compositions, the 'we' is not unsuitable, because a
plurality of persons may append their names to a document.</p>
<p>"A speaker using 'we' may speak for himself and one
or more others; commonly he stands forward as the representative
of a class, more or less comprehensive. 'As soon
as my companion and I had entered the field, <i>we</i> saw a
man coming toward <i>us</i>'; '<i>we</i> like <i>our</i> new curate'; 'you
do <i>us</i> poets the greatest injustice'; '<i>we</i> must see to the
efficiency of <i>our</i> forces.' The widest use of the pronoun
will be mentioned presently.</p>
<p>"'We' is used for 'I' in the decrees of persons in authority;
as when King Lear says:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i2">'Know that <i>we</i> have divided<br/></span>
<span class="i0">In three <i>our</i> kingdom.'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>By the fiction of plurality a veil of modesty is thrown over
the assumption of vast superiority over human beings generally.
Or, 'we' may be regarded as an official form whereby
the speaker personally is magnified or enabled to rise to
the dignity of the occasion.</p>
<p>"The editorial 'we' is to be understood on the same
principle. An author using 'we' appears as if he were not
alone, but sharing with other persons the responsibility of
his views.</p>
<p>"This representative position is at its utmost stretch in
the practice of using 'we' for human beings generally; as
in discoursing on the laws of human nature. The preacher,
the novelist, or the philosopher, in dwelling upon the
peculiarity of our common constitution, being himself an
example of what he is speaking of, associates the rest of
mankind with him, and speaks collectively by means of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></SPAN></span>
'we.' '<i>We</i> are weak and fallible'; '<i>we</i> are of yesterday';
'<i>we</i> are doomed to dissolution.' 'Here have <i>we</i> no continuing
city, but <i>we</i> seek one to come.'</p>
<p>"It is not unfrequent to have in one sentence, or in
close proximity, both the editorial and the representative
meaning, the effect being ambiguity and confusion. 'Let
<i>us</i> [the author] now consider why <i>we</i> [humanity generally]
overrate distant good.' In such a case the author should
fall back upon the singular for himself—'<i>I</i> will now consider—.'
'<i>We</i> [speaker] think <i>we</i> [himself and hearers
together] should come to the conclusion.' Say, either '<i>I</i>
think,' or '<i>you</i> would.'</p>
<p>"The following extract from Butler exemplifies a similar
confusion: 'Suppose <i>we</i> [representative] are capable of
happiness and of misery in degrees equally intense and
extreme, yet <i>we</i> [rep.] are capable of the latter for a much
longer time, beyond all comparison. <i>We</i> [change of subject
to a limited class] see men in the tortures of pain—.
Such is <i>our</i> [back to representative] make that anything
may become the instrument of pain and sorrow to <i>us</i>.'
The 'we' at the commencement of the second sentence—'<i>We</i>
see men in the tortures'—could be advantageously
changed to 'you,' or the passive construction could be
substituted; the remaining <i>we</i>'s would then be consistently
representative.</p>
<p>"From the greater emphasis of singularity, energetic
speakers and writers sometimes use 'I' as representative of
mankind at large. Thus: 'The current impressions received
through the senses are not voluntary in origin. What
<i>I</i> see in walking is seen because <i>I</i> have an organ of vision.'
The question of general moral obligation is forcibly stated
by Paley in the individual form, 'Why am <i>I</i> obliged to
keep my word?' It is sometimes well to confine the attention<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></SPAN></span>
of the hearer or reader to his own relation to the
matter under consideration, more especially in difficult or
non-popular argument or exposition. The speaker, by
using 'I,' does the action himself, or makes himself the
example, the hearer being expected to put himself in the
same position."—Bain's "Composition Grammar."</p>
<p><b>Pronouns of the Second Person.</b> "Anomalous usages
have sprung up in connection with these pronouns. The
plural form has almost wholly superseded the singular; a
usage more than five centuries old.<SPAN name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</SPAN></p>
<p>"The motive is courtesy. The singling out of one person
for address is supposed to be a liberty or an excess of
familiarity; and the effect is softened or diluted by the
fiction of taking in others. If our address is uncomplimentary,
the sting is lessened by the plural form; and if the
reverse, the shock to modesty is not so great. This is a
refinement that was unknown to the ancient languages.
The orators of Greece delighted in the strong, pointed,
personal appeal implied in the singular 'thou.' In modern
German, 'thou' (<i>du</i>) is the address of familiarity and intimacy;
while the ordinary pronoun is the curiously indirect
'they' (<i>Sie</i>). On solemn occasions, we may revert
to 'thou.' Cato, in his meditative soliloquy on reading
Plato's views on the immortality of the soul before killing
himself, says: 'Plato, <i>thou</i> reasonest well.' So in the
Commandments, 'thou' addresses to each individual an
unavoidable appeal: '<i>Thou</i> shall not——.' But our ordinary
means of making the personal appeal is, 'you, <i>sir</i>,'
'you, <i>madam</i>,' 'my <i>Lord</i>, you——,' etc.; we reserve 'thou'
for the special case of addressing the Deity. The application
of the motive of courtesy is here reversed; it would be<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></SPAN></span>
irreverent to merge this vast personality in a promiscuous
assemblage.</p>
<p>"'You' is not unfrequently employed, like 'we,' as a
representative pronoun. The action is represented with
great vividness, when the person or persons addressed may
be put forward as the performers: 'There is such an echo
among the old ruins, and vaults, that if <i>you</i> stamp a little
louder than ordinary, <i>you</i> hear the sound repeated'; 'Some
practice is required to see these animals in the thick forest,
even when <i>you</i> hear them close by <i>you</i>.'</p>
<p>"There should not be a mixture of 'thou' and 'you'
in the same passage. Thus, Thackeray (Adventures of
Philip): 'So, as <i>thy</i> sun rises, friend, over the humble
house-tops round about <i>your</i> home, shall <i>you</i> wake many
and many a day to duty and labor.' So, Cooper (Water-Witch):
'<i>Thou</i> hast both master and mistress? <i>You</i> have
told us of the latter, but we would know something of the
former. Who is <i>thy</i> master?' Shakespeare, Scott, and
others might also be quoted.</p>
<p>"'Ye' and 'you' were at one time strictly distinguished
as different cases; 'ye' was nominative, 'you' objective
(dative or accusative). But the Elizabethan dramatists confounded
the forms irredeemably; and 'you' has gradually
ousted 'ye' from ordinary use. 'Ye' is restricted to the
expression of strong feeling, and in this employment occurs
chiefly in the poets."—Bain's "Composition Grammar."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Proof" id="Proof"></SPAN>Proof.</b> This word is much and very improperly used
for <i>evidence</i>, which is only the medium of <i>proof</i>, <i>proof</i> being
the effect of <i>evidence</i>. "What <i>evidence</i> have you to offer in
<i>proof</i> of the truth of your statement?" See also <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Evidence">Evidence</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Propose" id="Propose"></SPAN>Propose—Purpose.</b> Writers and speakers often fail to
discriminate properly between the respective meanings of
these two verbs. <i>Propose</i>, correctly used, means, to put<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></SPAN></span>
forward or to offer for <i>the consideration of others</i>; hence, <i>a
proposal</i> is a scheme or design offered for acceptance or consideration,
a proposition. <i>Purpose</i> means, to intend, to
design, to resolve; hence, <i>a purpose</i> is an intention, an aim,
that which one sets <i>before one's self</i>. Examples: "What
do you <i>purpose</i> doing in the matter?" "What do you
<i>propose</i> that we shall do in the matter?" "I will do" means
"I <i>purpose</i> doing, or to do." "I <i>purpose</i> to write a history
of England from the accession of King James the Second
down to a time which is within the memory of men still
living."—Macaulay. It will be observed that Macaulay
says, "I purpose <i>to write</i>" and not, "I purpose <i>writing</i>,"
using the verb in the infinitive rather than in the participial
form. "On which he <i>purposed</i> to mount one of his little
guns." See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Infinitive_Mood">Infinitive</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Proposition.</b> This word is often used when <i>proposal</i>
would be better, for the reason that <i>proposal</i> has but one
meaning, and is shorter by one syllable. "He demonstrated
the <i>proposition</i> of Euclid, and rejected the <i>proposal</i>
of his friend."</p>
<p><b>Prosaist.</b> Dr. Hall is of opinion that this is a word
we shall do well to encourage. It is used by good writers.</p>
<p><b>Proven.</b> This form for the past participle of the verb
<i>to prove</i> is said to be a Scotticism. It is not used by careful
writers and speakers. The correct form is <i>proved</i>.</p>
<p><b>Providing.</b> The present participle of the verb <i>to provide</i>
is sometimes vulgarly used for the conjunction <i>provided</i>,
as in this sentence from the "London Queen": "Society
may be congratulated, ... <i>providing</i> that," etc.</p>
<p><b>Provoke.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Aggravate">Aggravate</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Punctuation.</b> The importance of punctuation can not
be overestimated; it not only helps to make plain the meaning
of what one writes, but it may prevent one's being misconstrued.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></SPAN></span>
Though no two writers could be found who
punctuate just alike, still in the main those who pay attention
to the art put in their stops in essentially the same
manner. The difference that punctuation may make in the
meaning of language is well illustrated by the following
anecdote:</p>
<p>At Ramessa there lived a benevolent and hospitable
prior, who caused these lines to be painted over his door:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Be open evermore,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">O thou my door!<br/></span>
<span class="i0">To none be shut—to honest or to poor!"<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>In time the good prior was succeeded by a man as selfish
as his predecessor was generous. The lines over the door
of the priory were allowed to remain; one stop, however,
was altered, which made them read thus:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Be open evermore,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">O thou my door!<br/></span>
<span class="i0">To none—be shut to honest or to poor!"<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>He punctuates best who makes his punctuation contribute
most to the clear expression of his thought; and
that construction is best that has least need of being punctuated.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">The Comma.</span>—The chief difference in the punctuation
of different writers is usually in their use of the comma, in
regard to which there is a good deal of latitude; much is
left to individual taste. Nowadays the best practice uses
it sparingly. An idea of the extent to which opinions
differ with regard to the use of the comma may be formed
from the following excerpt from a paper prepared for
private use:</p>
<p>"In the following examples, gathered from various
sources—chiefly from standard books—the superfluous commas
are inclosed in parentheses:<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"1. 'It remains(,) perhaps(,) to be said(,) that, if any
lesson at all(,) as to these delicate matters(,) is needed(,) in
this period, it is not so much a lesson,' etc. 2. 'The obedience
is not due to the power of a right authority, but to
the spirit of fear, and(,) therefore(,) is(,) in reality(,) no
obedience at all.' 3. 'The patriot disturbances in Canada
... awakened deep interest among the people of the United
States(,) who lived adjacent to the frontier.' 4. 'Observers(,)
who have recently investigated this point(,) do not all agree,'
etc. 5. 'The wind did(,) in an instant(,) what man and
steam together had failed to do in hours.' 6. 'All the cabin
passengers(,) situated beyond the center of the boat(,) were
saved.' 7. 'No other writer has depicted(,) with so much
art or so much accuracy(,) the habits, the manners,' etc. 8.
'If it shall give satisfaction to those who have(,) in any way(,)
befriended it, the author will feel,' etc. 9. 'Formed(,) or
consisting of(,) clay.' 10. 'The subject [witchcraft] grew
interesting; and(,) to examine Sarah Cloyce and Elizabeth
Proctor, the deputy-governor(,) and five other magistrates(,)
went to Salem.' 11. 'The Lusitanians(,) who had not left
their home(,) rose as a man,' etc. 12. 'Vague reports ... had
preceded him to Washington, and his Mississippi friends(,)
who chanced to be at the capital(,) were not backward to
make their boast of him.' 13. 'Our faith has acquired a
new vigor(,) and a clearer vision.' 14. 'In 1819(,) he removed
to Cambridge.' 15. 'Doré was born at Strasburg(,)
in 1832, and labors,' etc. 16. 'We should never apply dry
compresses, charpie, or wadding(,) to the wound.' 17. '—to
stand idle, to look, act, or think(,) in a leisurely way.' 18.
'—portraits taken from the farmers, schoolmasters, and
peasantry(,) of the neighborhood.' 19. '—gladly welcomed
painters of Flanders, Holland, and Spain(,) to their
shores.'<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"In all these cases, the clauses between or following the
inclosed commas are so closely connected grammatically
with the immediately preceding words or phrases, that they
should be read without a perceptible pause, or with only a
slight one for breath, without change of voice. Some of
the commas would grossly pervert the meaning if strictly
construed. Thus, from No. 3 it would appear that the
people of the United States in general lived adjacent to the
frontier; from No. 4, that all observers have recently investigated
the point in question; from No. 6, that all the
cabin passengers were so situated that they were saved,
whereas it is meant that only a certain small proportion of
them were saved; from No. 10 (Bancroft), that somebody
whose name is accidentally omitted went to Salem 'to examine
Sarah Cloyce and Elizabeth Proctor, the deputy-governor,
and five other magistrates'; from No. 11, that
none of the Lusitanians had left their home, whereas it was
the slaughter by the Romans of a great number of them who
<i>had</i> left their home that caused the rising.</p>
<p>"Commas are frequently omitted, and in certain positions
very generally, where the sense and correct reading
require a pause. In the following examples, such commas,
omitted in the works from which they were taken, are inclosed
in brackets:</p>
<p>"1. 'The modes of thought[,] and the types of character
which those modes produce[,] are essentially and universally
transformed.' 2. 'Taken by itself[,] this doctrine
could have no effect whatever; indeed[,] it would amount
to nothing but a verbal proposition.' 3. 'Far below[,] the
little stream of the Oder foamed over the rocks.' 4. 'When
the day returned[,] the professor, the artist[,] and I rowed
to within a hundred yards of the shore.' 5. 'Proceeding
into the interior of India[,] they passed through Belgaum.'<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></SPAN></span>
6. 'If Loring is defeated in the Sixth District[,] it can be
borne.'</p>
<p>"In No. 3, the reader naturally enunciates 'the little
stream of the Oder' as in the objective case after 'below';
but there he comes to a predicate which compels him to go
back and read differently. In No. 4, it appears that 'the
day returned the professor,' and then 'the artist and I
rowed,' etc."</p>
<p>All clauses should generally be isolated by commas;
where, however, the connection is very close or the clause
is very short, no point may be necessary. "But his pride
is greater than his ignorance, and what he wants in knowledge
he supplies by sufficiency." "A man of polite imagination
can converse with a picture, and find an agreeable
companion in a statue." "Though he slay me, yet will I
trust him." "The prince, his father being dead, succeeded."
"To confess the truth, I was much at fault."
"As the heart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth
my soul after thee." "Where the bee sucks, there suck
I." "His father dying, he succeeded to the estate."
"The little that is known, and the circumstance that little
is known, must be considered as honorable to him."</p>
<p>The comma is used before and after a phrase when coördinating
and not restrictive. "The jury, having retired
for half an hour, brought in a verdict." "The stranger,
unwilling to obtrude himself on our notice, left in the
morning." "Rome, the city of the Emperors, became the
city of the Popes." "His stories, which made everybody
laugh, were often made to order." "He did not come,
which I greatly regret." "The younger, who was yet a
boy, had nothing striking in his appearance." "They
passed the cup to the stranger, who drank heartily."
"Peace at any price, which these orators seem to advocate,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></SPAN></span>
means war at any cost." "Sailors, who are generally
superstitious, say it is unlucky to embark on Friday."</p>
<p>Adverbs and short phrases, <i>when they break the connection</i>,
should be between commas. Some of the most
common words and phrases so used are the following:
Also, too, there, indeed, perhaps, surely, moreover, likewise,
however, finally, namely, therefore, apparently, meanwhile,
consequently, unquestionably, accordingly, notwithstanding,
in truth, in fact, in short, in general, in reality,
no doubt, of course, as it were, at all events, to be brief,
to be sure, now and then, on the contrary, in a word, by
chance, in that case, in the mean time, for the most part.
"History, in a word, is replete with moral lessons." "As
an orator, however, he was not great." "There is, remember,
a limit at which forbearance ceases to be a virtue."
"Our civilization, therefore, is not an unmixed
good." "This, I grant you, is not of great importance."</p>
<p>If, however, the adverb does not break the connection,
but readily coalesces with the rest of the sentence, the
commas are omitted. "Morning will come at last, however
dark the night may be." "We then proceeded on
our way." "Our civilization is therefore not an unmixed
good." "Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may
change."</p>
<p>Adverbial phrases and clauses beginning a sentence are
set off by commas. "In truth, I could not tell." "To
sum up, the matter is this." "Everything being ready,
they set out." "By looking a little deeper, the reason
will be found." "Finally, let me sum up the argument."
"If the premises were admitted, I should deny the conclusion."
"Where your treasure is, there will your heart be
also."</p>
<p>Words used in apposition should be isolated by commas.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></SPAN></span>
"Newton, the great mathematician, was very modest."
"And he, their prince, shall rank among my peers."
In such sentences, however, as, "The mathematician Newton
was very modest," and "The Emperor Napoleon was
a great soldier," commas are not used.</p>
<p>The name or designation of a person addressed is isolated
by commas. "It touches you, my lord, as well as
me." "John, come here." "Mr. President, my object is
peace." "Tell me, boy, where do you live?" "Yes, sir,
I will do as you say." "Mr. Brown, what is your number?"</p>
<p>Pairs of words.—"Old and young, rich and poor, wise
and foolish, were involved." "Sink or swim, live or die,
survive or perish, I give my hand and heart to this vote."
"Interest and ambition, honor and shame, friendship and
enmity, gratitude and revenge, are the prime movers in
public transactions."</p>
<p>A restrictive clause is not separated by a comma from
the noun. "Every one must love a boy who [that] is attentive
and docile." "He preaches sublimely who [that]
lives a holy life." "The things which [that] are seen are
temporal." "A king depending on the support of his subjects
can not rashly go to war." "The sailor who [that] is
not superstitious will embark any day."</p>
<p>The comma is used after adjectives, nouns, and verbs
in sentences like the following:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Shrunk to this little measure?"<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"He fills, he bounds, connects and equals all."<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Who to the enraptured heart, and ear, and eye<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Teach beauty, virtue, truth, and love, and melody."<SPAN name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</SPAN><br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"He rewarded his friends, chastised his foes, set
Justice on her seat, and made his conquest secure."</p>
<p>The comma is used to separate adjectives in opposition,
but closely connected. "Though deep, yet clear; though
gentle, yet not dull." "Liberal, not lavish, is kind Nature's
hand." "Though black, yet comely; and though
rash, benign."</p>
<p>After a nominative, where the verb is understood.
"To err is human; to forgive, divine." "A wise man
seeks to shine in himself; a fool, in others." "Conversation
makes a ready man; writing, an exact man; reading,
a full man."</p>
<p>A long subject is often separated from the predicate by
a comma. "Any one that refuses to earn an honest livelihood,
is not an object of charity." "The circumstance of
his being unprepared to adopt immediate and decisive
measures, was represented to the Government." "That
he had persistently disregarded every warning and persevered
in his reckless course, had not yet undermined
his credit with his dupes." "That the work of forming
and perfecting the character is difficult, is generally allowed."</p>
<p>In a series of adjectives that precede their noun, a
comma is placed after each except the last; there usage
omits the point. "A beautiful, tall, willowy, sprightly
girl." "A quick, brilliant, studious, learned man."<SPAN name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</SPAN></p>
<p>A comma is placed between short members of compound<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></SPAN></span>
sentences, connected by <i>and</i>, <i>but</i>, <i>for</i>, <i>nor</i>, <i>or</i>, <i>because</i>,
<i>whereas</i>, <i>that</i> expressing purpose (so that, in order that),
and other conjunctions. "Be virtuous, that you may be
respected." "Love not sleep, lest you come to poverty."
"Man proposes, but God disposes."</p>
<p>A comma must not be placed before <i>that</i> except when
it is equivalent to <i>in order that</i>. "He says that he will be
here."</p>
<p>A comma must not be placed before <i>and</i> when it connects
two words only. "Time and tide wait for no man."
"A rich and prosperous people." "Plain and honest truth
wants no artificial covering."</p>
<p>A comma is sometimes necessary to prevent ambiguity.
"He who pursues pleasure only defeats the object of his
creation." Without a comma before or after <i>only</i>, the
meaning of this sentence is doubtful.</p>
<p>The following sentences present some miscellaneous
examples of the use of the comma by writers on punctuation:
"Industry, as well as genius, is essential to the
production of great works." "Prosperity is secured to a
state, not by the acquisition of territory or riches, but by
the encouragement of industry." "Your manners are affable,
and, for the most part, pleasing."<SPAN name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</SPAN></p>
<p>"However fairly a bad man may appear to act, we
distrust him." "Why, this is rank injustice." "Well,
follow the dictates of your inclination." "The comma
may be omitted in the case of <i>too</i>, <i>also</i>, <i>therefore</i>, and <i>perhaps</i>,
when introduced so as not to interfere with the harmonious
flow of the period; and, particularly, when the
sentence is short."<SPAN name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</SPAN> "Robert Horton, M. D., F. R. S."
"To those who labor, sleep is doubly pleasant"; "Sleep<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></SPAN></span>
is doubly pleasant to those who labor." "Those who
persevere, succeed." "To be overlooked, slighted, and
neglected; to be misunderstood, misrepresented, and slandered;
to be trampled under foot by the envious, the ignorant,
and the vile; to be crushed by foes, and to be distrusted
and betrayed even by friends—such is too often the
fate of genius." "She is tall, though not so handsome as
her sister." "Verily, verily, I say unto you." "Whatever
is, is right." "What is foreordained to be, will be." "The
Emperor Augustus was a patron of the fine arts." "Augustus,
the Emperor, was a patron of the fine arts."
"United, we stand; divided, we fall." "God said, Let
there be light." "July 21, 1881." "President Garfield
was shot, Saturday morning, July 2, 1881; he died, Monday
night, Sept. 19, 1881." "I am, sir, very respectfully, your
obedient servant, John Jones." "New York, August,
1881." "Room 20, Equitable Building, Broadway, New
York."</p>
<p>"<i>When you are in doubt as to the propriety of inserting
commas, omit them</i>; <span class="smcap">it is better to have too few than
too many</span>."—Quackenbos.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Semicolon.</span>—Reasons are preceded by semicolons;
"Economy is no disgrace; for it is better to live on a little
than to outlive a great deal." Clauses in opposition are
separated by a semicolon when the second is introduced by
an adversative: "Straws swim at the surface; but pearls
lie at the bottom"; "Lying lips are an abomination to the
Lord; but they that deal truly are his delight." Without
the adversative, the colon is to be preferred: "Prosperity
showeth vice: adversity, virtue." The great divisions of a
sentence must be pointed with a semicolon when the minor
divisions are pointed with commas: "Mirth should be the
embroidery of conversation, not the web; and wit the ornament<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></SPAN></span>
of the mind, not the furniture." The things enumerated
must be separated by semicolons, when the enunciation
of particulars is preceded by a colon: "The value
of a maxim depends on four things: the correctness of the
principle it embodies; the subject to which it relates; the
extent of its application; and the ease with which it may
be practically carried out." When <i>as</i> introduces an example,
it is preceded by a semicolon. When several
successive clauses have a common connection with a preceding
or following clause, they are separated by semicolons;
as, "Children, as they gamboled on the beach;
reapers, as they gathered the harvest; mowers, as they
rested from using the scythe; mothers, as they busied themselves
about the household—were victims to an enemy,
who disappeared the moment a blow was struck." "Reason
as we may, it is impossible not to read in such a fate much
that we know not how to interpret; much of provocation
to cruel deeds and deep resentment; much of apology for
wrong and perfidy; much of doubt and misgiving as to the
past; much of painful recollections; much of dark foreboding."
"Philosophers assert that Nature is unlimited;
that her treasures are endless; that the increase of knowledge
will never cease."</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Colon.</span>—This point is less used now than formerly:
its place is supplied by the period, the semicolon, or
the dash; and sometimes, even by the comma. The colon
is used very differently by different writers. "He was
heard to say, 'I have done with this world.'" Some writers
would put a colon, some a comma, after <i>say</i>. "When the
quoted passage is brought in without any introductory
word, if short," says Quackenbos, "it is generally preceded
by a comma; if long, by a colon; as, 'A simpleton, meeting
a philosopher, asked him, "What affords wise men the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></SPAN></span>
greatest pleasure?" Turning on his heel, the sage replied,
"To get rid of fools."'"</p>
<p>Formal enumerations of particulars, and direct quotations,
when introduced by such phrases as <i>in these words</i>,
<i>as follows</i>, <i>the following</i>, <i>namely</i>, <i>this</i>, <i>these</i>, <i>thus</i>, etc., are
properly preceded by a colon. "We hold these truths to
be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they
are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable
rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit
of happiness." "Lord Bacon has summed up the whole
matter in the following words: 'A little philosophy inclineth
men's minds to atheism; but depth in philosophy
bringeth men's minds to religion.'" "The human family
is composed of five races: first, the Caucasian; second,
the Mongolian; third, the," etc.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"All were attentive to the godlike man<br/></span>
<span class="i0">When from his lofty couch he thus began:<br/></span>
<span class="i0">'Great queen,'" etc.—Dryden.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>When the quotation, or other matter, begins a new
paragraph, the colon is, by many writers, followed with a
dash; as, "The cloth being removed, the President rose
and said:—</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'Ladies and gentlemen, we are,'" etc.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>The colon is used to mark the greater breaks in sentences,
when the lesser breaks are marked by semicolons.
"You have called yourself an atom in the universe; you
have said that you are but an insect in the solar blaze: is
your present pride consistent with these professions?" "A
clause is either independent or dependent: independent,
if it forms an assertion by itself; dependent, if it enters
into some other clause with the value of a part of speech."
A colon is sometimes used instead of a period to separate
two short sentences, which are closely connected. "Never<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></SPAN></span>
flatter people: leave that to such as mean to betray them."
"Some things we can, and others we can not do: we can
walk, but we can not fly."</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Period.</span>—Complete sentences are always followed
either by a period, or by an exclamation or an interrogation
point.<SPAN name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</SPAN></p>
<p>The period is also used after abbreviations; as, R. D.
Van Nostrand, St. Louis, Mo.; Jno. B. Morris, M. D.,
F. R. S., London, Eng.; Jas. W. Wallack, Jr., New York
City, N. Y.; Jas. B. Roberts, Elocutionist, Phila., Pa.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Interrogation-point.</span>—This point is used after questions
put by the writer, and after questions reported directly.
"What can I do for you?" "Where are you going?"
"What do you say?" cried the General. "The child still
lives?" It should not be used when the question is reported
indirectly. "He asked me where I was going."
"The Judge asked the witness if he believed the man to
be guilty."</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Exclamation-point.</span>—This mark is placed after interjections,
after sentences and clauses of sentences of passionate
import, and after solemn invocations and addresses.
"Zounds! the man's in earnest." "Pshaw! what can we
do?" "Bah! what's that to me?" "Indeed! then I must
look to it." "Look, my lord, it comes!" "Rest, rest,
perturbed spirit!" "O heat, dry up my brains!" "Dear
maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!" "While in this part
of the country, I once more revisited—and, alas, with what
melancholy presentiments!—the home of my youth." "O
rose of May!" "Oh, from this time forth, my thoughts
be bloody or be nothing worth!" "O heavens! die two
months ago, and not forgotten yet?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></SPAN></span></p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">In rayless majesty now stretches forth<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Her leaden scepter o'er a slumbering world.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Silence, how dead! and darkness, how profound!"—Young.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Hail, holy light! offspring of heaven just born!"—Milton.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"But thou, O Hope! with eyes so fair,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">What was thy delighted measure?"—Collins.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>It will be observed that the interjection O is an exception
to the rule: it is often followed by a comma, but never
by an exclamation-point.</p>
<p>An exclamation-point sometimes gives the same words
quite another meaning. The difference between "What's
that?" and "What's that!" is obvious.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Dash.</span>—Cobbett did not favor the use of this mark,
as we see from the following: "Let me caution you against
the use of what, by some, is called the <i>dash</i>. The dash is
a stroke along the line; thus, 'I am rich—I was poor—I
shall be poor again.' This is wild work indeed! Who is
to know what is intended by these <i>dashes</i>? Those who
have thought proper, like Mr. Lindley Murray, to place the
<i>dash</i> amongst the <i>grammatical points</i>, ought to give us some
rule relative to its different longitudinal dimensions in different
cases. The <i>inch</i>, the <i>three-quarter-inch</i>, the <i>half-inch</i>,
the <i>quarter-inch</i>: these would be something determinate;
but '<i>the dash</i>,' without measure, must be a perilous
thing for the young grammarian to handle. In short, '<i>the
dash</i>' is a cover for ignorance as to the use of points, and it
can answer no other purpose."</p>
<p>This is one of the few instances in which Cobbett was
wrong. The <i>dash</i> is the proper point with which to mark
an unexpected or emphatic pause, or a sudden break or transition.
It is very often preceded by another point. "And<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></SPAN></span>
Huitzilopochtli—a sweet name to roll under one's tongue—for
how many years has this venerable war-god blinked in
the noonday sun!" "Crowds gathered about the newspaper
bulletins, recalling the feverish scenes that occurred
when the President's life was thought to be hanging by a
thread. 'Wouldn't it be too bad,' said one, 'if, after all—no,
I won't allow myself to think of it.'" "Was there
ever—but I scorn to boast." "You are—no, I'll not tell
you what you are."</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"He suffered—but his pangs are o'er;<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Enjoyed—but his delights are fled;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Had friends—his friends are now no more;<br/></span>
<span class="i2">And foes—his foes are dead."—Montgomery.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"Greece, Carthage, Rome,—where are they?" "He chastens;—but
he chastens to save."</p>
<p>Dashes are much used where parentheses were formerly
employed. "In the days of Tweed the expression to divide
fair—forcible, if not grammatical—acquired much currency."
"In truth, the character of the great chief was depicted
two thousand five hundred years before his birth, and depicted—such
is the power of genius—in colors which will
be fresh as many years after his death." "To render the
Constitution perpetual—which God grant it may be!—it is
necessary that its benefits should be practically felt by all
parts of the country."</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parenthesis.</span>—This mark is comparatively little used
nowadays. The dash is preferred, probably because it
disfigures the page less. The office of the parenthesis is
to isolate a phrase which is merely incidental, and which
might be omitted without detriment to the grammatical
construction.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Know then this truth (enough for man to know),<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Virtue alone is happiness below."—Pope.<br/></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"The bliss of man (could pride that blessing find)<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Is not to act or think beyond mankind."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><span class="smcap">Brackets.</span>—This mark is used principally to inclose
words improperly omitted by the writer, or words introduced
for the purpose of explanation or to correct an error.
The bracket is often used in this book.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Apostrophe.</span>—This point is used to denote the
omission of letters and sometimes of figures; as, Jan'y, '81;
<i>I've</i> for <i>I have</i>; <i>you'll</i> for <i>you will</i>; <i>'tis</i> for <i>it is</i>; <i>don't</i> for
<i>do not</i>; <i>can't</i> for <i>can not</i>; It was in the year '93; the spirit
of '76; It was in the years 1812, '13, and '14.</p>
<p>Also to denote the possessive case; as, Brown's house;
the king's command; Moses' staff; for conscience' sake;
the boys' garden.</p>
<p>Also with <i>s</i> to denote the plural of letters, figures, and
signs; as, Cross your <i>t</i>'s, dot your <i>i</i>'s, and mind your <i>p</i>'s and
<i>q</i>'s; make your 5's better, and take out the <i>x</i>'s.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Capitals.</span>—A capital letter should begin every sentence,
every line of verse, and every direct quotation.</p>
<p>All names of the Deity, of Jesus Christ, of the Trinity,
and of the Virgin Mary must begin with a capital. Pronouns
are usually capitalized when they refer to the Deity.</p>
<p>Proper names, and nouns and adjectives formed from
proper names, names of streets, of the months, of the days
of the week, and of the holidays, are capitalized.</p>
<p>Titles of nobility and of high office, when used to designate
particular persons, are capitalized; as, the Earl of
Dunraven, the Mayor of Boston, the Baron replied, the
Cardinal presided.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Paragraph.</span>—In writing for the press, the division
of matter into paragraphs is often quite arbitrary; in letter-writing,
on the contrary, the several topics treated of should,
as a rule, be isolated by paragraphic divisions. These divisions<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></SPAN></span>
give one's letters a shapely appearance that they
otherwise never have.</p>
</div>
<p><b>Purchase.</b> This word is much preferred to its synonym
<i>buy</i>, by that class of people who prefer the word <i>reside</i> to
<i>live</i>, <i>procure</i> to <i>get</i>, <i>inaugurate</i> to <i>begin</i>, and so on. They
are generally of those who are great in pretense, and who
would be greater still if they were to pretend to all they
have to pretend to.</p>
<p><b>Purpose.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Propose">Propose</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Quantity.</b> This word is often improperly used for
<i>number</i>. <i>Quantity</i> should be used in speaking of what is
measured or weighed; <i>number</i>, of what is counted. Examples:
"What <i>quantity</i> of apples have you, and what
<i>number</i> of pineapples?" "Delaware produces a large
<i>quantity</i> of peaches and a large <i>number</i> of melons."</p>
<p><b>Quit.</b>—This word means, properly, to leave, to go away
from, to forsake; as, "Avaunt! <i>quit</i> my sight." This is
the only sense in which the English use it. In America,
it is generally used in the sense of to leave off, to stop; as,
"<i>Quit</i> your nonsense"; "<i>Quit</i> laughing"; "<i>Quit</i> your
noise"; "He has <i>quit</i> smoking," and so on.</p>
<p><b>Quite.</b> This word originally meant completely, perfectly,
totally, entirely, fully; and this is the sense in
which it was used by the early writers of English. It is
now often used in the sense of <i>rather</i>; as, "It is <i>quite</i>
warm"; "She is <i>quite</i> tall"; "He is <i>quite</i> proficient."
Sometimes it is incorrectly used in the sense of <i>considerable</i>;
as, <i>quite</i> an amount, <i>quite</i> a number, <i>quite</i> a fortune.
<i>Quite</i>, according to good modern usage, may qualify an
adjective, but not a noun. "She is quite the lady," is a
vile phrase, meaning, "She is very or <i>quite</i> ladylike."</p>
<p><b>Railroad Depot.</b> Few things are more offensive to
fastidious ears than to hear a railway <i>station</i> called a <i>depot</i>.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></SPAN></span>
A depot is properly a place where goods or stores of any
kind are kept; and the places at which the trains of a railroad—or,
better, rail<i>way</i>—stop for passengers, or the points
from which they start and at which they arrive, are, properly,
the <i>stations</i>.</p>
<p><b>Railway.</b> The English prefer this word to rail<i>road</i>.</p>
<p><b>Raise the rent.</b> An expression incorrectly used for
<i>increase the rent</i>.</p>
<p><b>Rarely.</b> It is no uncommon thing to see this adverb
improperly used in such sentences as, "It is very <i>rarely</i>
that the puppets of the romancer assume," etc.—"Appletons'
Journal," February, 1881, p. 177. "But," says the
defender of this phraseology, "<i>rarely</i> qualifies a verb—the
verb <i>to be</i>." Not at all. The sentence, if written out in
full, would be, "It is a very rare thing that," etc., or "The
circumstance is a very rare one that," etc., or "It is a very
rare occurrence that," etc. To those who contend for
"It is very <i>rarely</i> that," etc., I would say, It is very <i>sadly</i>
that persons of culture will write and then defend—or
rather try to defend—such grammar.</p>
<p><b>Ratiocinate.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Effectuate">Effectuate</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Real.</b>—This adjective is often vulgarly used in the
sense of the adverb <i>very</i>; thus, <i>real</i> nice, <i>real</i> pretty, <i>real</i>
angry, <i>real</i> cute, and so on.</p>
<p><b>Recommend.</b> This word, which means to commend
or praise to another, to declare worthy of esteem, trust, or
favor, is sometimes put to strange uses. Example: "Resolved,
that the tax-payers of the county be <i>recommended</i> to
meet," etc. What the resolving gentlemen meant was,
that the tax-payers should be <i>counseled</i> to meet.</p>
<p><b>Redundancy.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Pleonasm">Pleonasm</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Reliable" id="Reliable"></SPAN>Reliable.</b> This is a modern word which is often met<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></SPAN></span>
with; but it is not used by our careful writers. They
prefer its synonym <i>trustworthy</i>, and argue that, in consequence
of being ill-formed, <i>reliable</i> can not possibly have
the signification in which it is used.</p>
<p><b>Remainder.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Balance">Balance</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Rendition.</b> This word is much misused for <i>rendering</i>.
Example: "The excellence of Mr. Gilbert's <i>rendition</i> of
certain characters, Sir Peter and Sir Antony, for instance,
is not equaled," etc. <i>Rendition</i> means the act of yielding
possession, surrender, as the <i>rendition</i> of a town or
fortress. The sentence above should read, "The excellence
of Mr. Gilbert's <i>rendering</i>," etc. <i>Rendition</i> is also
sometimes improperly used for <i>performance</i>.</p>
<p><b>Reply.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Answer">Answer</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Reputation.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Character">Character</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Reside.</b> A big word that Mr. Wouldbe uses where
Mr. Is uses the little word <i>live</i>.</p>
<p><b>Residence.</b> In speaking of a man's domicile, it is not
only in better taste but more correct to use the term <i>house</i>
than <i>residence</i>. A man has a <i>residence</i> in New York, when
he has lived here long enough to have the right to exercise
the franchise here; and he may have a <i>house</i> in Fifth
Avenue where he <i>lives</i>. People who <i>are</i> live in houses;
people who <i>would be</i> reside in residences. The former
<i>buy</i> things; the latter <i>purchase</i> them.</p>
<p><b>Rest.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Balance">Balance</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Restive.</b> Some of the dictionaries, Richard Grant
White, and some other writers, contend that this word, when
properly used, means unwilling to go, standing still stubbornly,
obstinate, stubborn, and nothing else. In combating
this opinion, Fitzedward Hall says: "Very few
instances, I apprehend, can be produced, from our literature,
of this use of <i>restive</i>." Webster gives impatient, uneasy,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></SPAN></span>
as a second meaning; and this is the sense in which
the word is nearly always used.</p>
<p><b>Retire.</b> It is only the over-nice who use <i>retire</i> in the
sense of <i>go to bed</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Reverend" id="Reverend"></SPAN>Reverend—Honorable.</b> Many persons are in doubt
whether they should or should not put <i>the</i> before these
adjectives. Emphatically, yes, they should. See "Words
and Their Uses," by Richard Grant White, for a full discussion
of the question; also "Good English," by Edward
S. Gould.</p>
<p><b>Rhetoric.</b> The art which has for its object the rendering
of language effective is called <i>rhetoric</i>. Without
some study of the art of composition, no one can expect to
write well, or to judge the literary work of others.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">As those move easiest who have learned to dance."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><b><SPAN name="Ride" id="Ride"></SPAN>Ride—Drive.</b> Fashion, both in England and in this
country, says that we must always use the second of these
words when we speak of going out in a carriage, although
<i>ride</i> means, according to all the lexicographers, "to be carried
on a horse or other animal, or in any kind of vehicle
or carriage."</p>
<p><b>Right.</b> Singularly enough, this word is made, by some
people, to do service for <i>ought</i>, <i>in duty bound</i>, under
<i>obligation</i> to; thus, "You had a <i>right</i> to tell me," meaning,
"You should have told me." "The Colonists contended
that they <i>had no right</i> to pay taxes," meaning, "They were
<i>under no obligation</i> to pay taxes," i. e., that it was unjust to
tax them.</p>
<p><b>Right here.</b> The expressions "right here" and "right
there" are Americanisms. Correctly, "just here" and "just
there."</p>
<p><b>Rolling.</b> The use of this participial adjective in the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></SPAN></span>
sense of undulating is said to be an Americanism.
Whether an Americanism or not, it would seem to be
quite unobjectionable.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Rubbers" id="Rubbers"></SPAN>Rubbers.</b> This word, in common with <i>gums</i> and
<i>arctics</i>, is often, in defiance of good taste, used for <i>overshoes</i>.</p>
<p><b>Sabbath.</b> This term was first used in English for Sunday,
or Lord's day, by the Puritans. Nowadays it is little
used in this sense. The word to use is <i>Sunday</i>.</p>
<p><b>Sarcasm.</b> Bain says that <i>sarcasm</i> is vituperation softened
in the outward expression by the arts and figures of
disguise—epigram, innuendo, irony—and embellished with
the figures of illustration. Crabb says that <i>sarcasm</i> is the
indulgence only of personal resentment, and is never justifiable.</p>
<p><b>Satire.</b> The holding up to ridicule of the follies and
weaknesses of mankind, by way of rebuke, is called <i>satire</i>.
Satire is general rather than individual, its object being
the reformation of abuses. A <i>lampoon</i>, which has
been defined as a <i>personal satire</i>, attacks the individual
rather than his fault, and is intended to injure rather than
to reform.</p>
<p>Said Sheridan: "Satires and lampoons on particular
people circulate more by giving copies in confidence to the
friends of the parties than by printing them."</p>
<p><b>Saw.</b> The imperfect tense of the verb <i>to see</i> is carelessly
used by good writers and speakers when they should
use the perfect; thus, "I never <i>saw</i> anything like it before,"
when the meaning intended is, "I <i>have</i> never [in all
my life] <i>seen</i> anything like it before [until now]." We say
properly, "I never <i>saw</i> anything like it <i>when I was in
Paris</i>"; but, when the period of time referred to extends to
the time when the statement is made, it must be <i>have seen</i>.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></SPAN></span>
Like mistakes are made in the use of other verbs, but they
are hardly as common; yet we often hear such expressions
as, "I <i>was</i> never in Philadelphia," "I never <i>went</i> to the
theatre in my life," instead of <i>have been</i> in Philadelphia,
and <i>have gone</i> to the theatre.</p>
<p><b>Section.</b> The use of this word for region, neighborhood,
vicinity, part (of the town or country), is said to be a
Westernism. A <i>section</i> is a division of the public lands
containing six hundred and forty acres.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Seem" id="Seem"></SPAN>Seem—Appear.</b> Graham, in his "English Synonymes,"
says of these two words: "What <i>seems</i> is in the mind;
what <i>appears</i> is external. Things <i>appear</i> as they present
themselves to the eye; they <i>seem</i> as they are represented to
the mind. Things <i>appear</i> good or bad, as far as we can
judge by our senses. Things <i>seem</i> right or wrong as we
determine by reflection. Perception and sensation have to
do with appearing; reflection and comparison, with seeming.
When things are not what they <i>appear</i>, our senses are
deceived; when things are not what they <i>seem</i>, our judgment
is at fault."</p>
<p>"No man had ever a greater power over himself, or
was less the man he <i>seemed</i> to be, which shortly after <i>appeared</i>
to everybody, when he cared less to keep on the
mask."—Clarendon.</p>
<p><b>Seldom or ever.</b> This phrase should be "seldom <i>if</i>
ever," or "seldom or <i>never</i>."</p>
<p><b>Seraphim.</b> This is the plural of <i>seraph</i>. "One of the
<i>seraphim</i>." "To Thee cherubim and seraphim continually
do cry." See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Cherubim">Cherubim</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Set" id="Set"></SPAN>Set—Sit.</b> The former of these two verbs is often incorrectly
used for the latter. To <i>set</i>; imperfect tense, <i>set</i>;
participles, <i>setting</i>, <i>set</i>. To <i>sit</i>; imperfect tense, <i>sat</i>; participles,
<i>sitting</i>, <i>sat</i>. To <i>set</i> means to put, to place, to plant;<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></SPAN></span>
to put in any place, condition, state, or posture. We say,
to <i>set</i> about, to <i>set</i> against, to <i>set</i> out, to <i>set</i> going, to
<i>set</i> apart, to <i>set</i> aside, to <i>set</i> down (to put in writing). To
<i>sit</i> means to rest on the lower part of the body, to repose
on a seat, to perch, as a bird, etc. We say, "<i>Sit</i> up," i. e.,
rise from lying to sitting; "We will <i>sit</i> up," i. e., will not go
to bed; "<i>Sit</i> down," i. e., place yourself on a seat. We <i>sit</i> a
horse and we <i>sit</i> for a portrait. Garments <i>sit</i> well or otherwise.
Congress <i>sits</i>, so does a court. "I have <i>sat</i> up long
enough." "I have <i>set</i> it on the table." We <i>set</i> down figures,
but we <i>sit</i> down on the ground. We <i>set</i> a hen, and a hen
<i>sits</i> on eggs. We should say, therefore, "as cross as a <i>sitting</i>
[not, as a <i>setting</i>] hen."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Settle" id="Settle"></SPAN>Settle.</b> This word is often inelegantly, if not incorrectly,
used for <i>pay</i>. We <i>pay</i> our way, <i>pay</i> our fare, <i>pay</i>
our hotel-bills, and the like. See, also, <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Locate">Locate</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Shall and Will.</b> The nice distinctions that should be
made between these two auxiliaries are, in some parts of
the English-speaking world, often disregarded, and that,
too, by persons of high culture. The proper use of <i>shall</i>
and <i>will</i> can much better be learned from example than
from precept. Many persons who use them, and also <i>should</i>
and <i>would</i>, with well-nigh unerring correctness, do so unconsciously;
it is simply habit with them, and they, though
their culture may be limited, will receive a sort of verbal
shock from Biddy's inquiry, "<i>Will</i> I put the kettle on,
ma'am?" when your Irish or Scotch countess would not be
in the least disturbed by it.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Shall</span>, <i>in an affirmative sentence, in the first person,
and</i> <span class="smcap">WILL</span> <i>in the second and third persons, merely announce
future action</i>. Thus, "I <i>shall</i> go to town to-morrow."
"I <i>shall</i> not; I <i>shall</i> wait for better weather." "We <i>shall</i>
be glad to see you." "I <i>shall</i> soon be twenty." "We <i>shall</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></SPAN></span>
set out early, and <i>shall</i> try to arrive by noon." "You <i>will</i>
be pleased." "You <i>will</i> soon be twenty." "You <i>will</i> find
him honest." "He <i>will</i> go with us."</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Shall</span>, <i>in an affirmative sentence, in the second and third
persons, announces the speaker's intention to control</i>. Thus,
"You <i>shall</i> hear me out." "You <i>shall</i> go, sick or well."
"He <i>shall</i> be my heir." "They <i>shall</i> go, whether they
want to go or not."</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Will</span>, <i>in the first person, expresses a promise, announces
the speaker's intention to control, proclaims a determination</i>.
Thus, "I <i>will</i> [I promise to] assist you." "I <i>will</i> [I am
determined to] have my right." "We <i>will</i> [we promise to]
come to you in the morning."</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Shall</span>, <i>in an interrogative sentence, in the first and third
persons, consults the will or judgment of another; in the
second person, it inquires concerning the intention or future
action of another</i>. Thus, "<i>Shall</i> I go with you?" "When
<i>shall</i> we see you again?" "When <i>shall</i> I receive it?"
"When <i>shall</i> I get well?" "When <i>shall</i> we get there?"
"<i>Shall</i> he come with us?" "<i>Shall</i> you demand indemnity?"
"<i>Shall</i> you go to town to-morrow?" "What
<i>shall</i> you do about it?"</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Will</span>, <i>in an interrogative sentence, in the second person,
asks concerning the wish, and, in the third person, concerning
the purpose or future action of others</i>. Thus, "<i>Will</i> you
have an apple?" "<i>Will</i> you go with me to my uncle's?"
"<i>Will</i> he be of the party?" "<i>Will</i> they be willing to receive
us?" "When <i>will</i> he be here?"</p>
<p><i>Will</i> can not be used interrogatively in the first person
singular or plural. We can not say, "<i>Will</i> I go?" "<i>Will</i>
I help you?" "<i>Will</i> I be late?" "<i>Will</i> we get there in
time?" "<i>Will</i> we see you again soon?"</p>
<p>Official courtesy, in order to avoid the semblance of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></SPAN></span>
compulsion, conveys its commands in the <i>you-will</i> form instead
of the strictly grammatical <i>you-shall</i> form. It says,
for example, "You <i>will</i> proceed to Key West, where you
will find further instructions awaiting you."</p>
<p>A clever writer on the use of <i>shall</i> and <i>will</i> says that
whatever concerns one's beliefs, hopes, fears, likes, or dislikes,
can not be expressed in conjunction with <i>I will</i>. Are
there no exceptions to this rule? If I say, "I think I <i>shall</i>
go to Philadelphia to-morrow," I convey the impression that
my going depends upon circumstances beyond my control;
but if I say, "I think I <i>will</i> go to Philadelphia to-morrow,"
I convey the impression that my going depends upon circumstances
within my control—that my going or not depends on
mere inclination. We certainly must say, "I fear that I <i>shall</i>
lose it"; "I hope that I <i>shall</i> be well"; "I believe that I
<i>shall</i> have the ague"; "I hope that I <i>shall</i> not be left
alone"; "I fear that we <i>shall</i> have bad weather"; "I
<i>shall</i> dislike the country"; "I <i>shall</i> like the performance."
The writer referred to asks, "How can one say, 'I <i>will</i>
have the headache'?" I answer, Very easily, as every
young woman knows. Let us see: "Mary, you know you
promised John to drive out with him to-morrow; how <i>shall</i>
you get out of it?" "Oh, I <i>will</i> have the headache!"
We request that people <i>will</i> do thus or so, and not that
they <i>shall</i>. Thus, "It is requested that no one <i>will</i> leave
the room."</p>
<p><i>Shall</i> is rarely, if ever, used for <i>will</i>; it is <i>will</i> that is
used for <i>shall</i>. Expressions like the following are common:
"Where <i>will</i> you be next week?" "I <i>will</i> be at home."
"We <i>will</i> have dinner at six o'clock." "How <i>will</i> you go
about it?" "When <i>will</i> you begin?" "When <i>will</i> you
set out?" "What <i>will</i> you do with it?" In all such expressions,
when it is a question of mere future action on<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></SPAN></span>
the part of the person speaking or spoken to, the auxiliary
must be <i>shall</i>, and not <i>will</i>.</p>
<p><i>Should</i> and <i>would</i> follow the regimen of <i>shall</i> and <i>will</i>.
<i>Would</i> is often used for <i>should</i>; <i>should</i> rarely for <i>would</i>.
Correct speakers say, "I <i>should</i> go to town to-morrow if
I had a horse." "I <i>should</i> not; I <i>should</i> wait for better
weather." "We <i>should</i> be glad to see you." "We <i>should</i>
have started earlier, if the weather had been clear." "I
<i>should</i> like to go to town, and <i>would</i> go if I could." "I
<i>would</i> assist you if I could." "I <i>should</i> have been ill if I
had gone." "I <i>would</i> I were home again!" "I <i>should</i>
go fishing to-day if I were home." "I <i>should</i> so like to go
to Europe!" "I <i>should</i> prefer to see it first." "I <i>should</i>
be delighted." "I <i>should</i> be glad to have you sup with
me." "I knew that I <i>should</i> be ill." "I feared that I
<i>should</i> lose it." "I hoped that I <i>should</i> see him." "I
thought I <i>should</i> have the ague." "I hoped that I <i>should</i>
not be left alone." "I was afraid that we <i>should</i> have bad
weather." "I knew I <i>should</i> dislike the country." "I
<i>should</i> not like to do it, and <i>will</i> not [determination] unless
compelled to."</p>
</div>
<p><b>Shimmy.</b> "We derive from the French language our
word <i>chemise</i>—pronounced <i>shemmeeze</i>. In French, the
word denotes a man's shirt, as well as the under garment
worn by women. In this country, it is often pronounced
by people who should know better—<i>shimmy</i>. Rather than
call it <i>shimmy</i>, resume the use of the old English words
<i>shift</i> and <i>smock</i>. Good usage unqualifiedly condemns
<i>gents</i>, <i>pants</i>, <i>kids</i>, <i>gums</i>, and <i>shimmy</i>."—"Vulgarisms and
Other Errors of Speech."</p>
<p><b>Should.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Ought">Ought</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Sick" id="Sick"></SPAN>Sick—Ill.</b> These words are often used indiscriminately.
<i>Sick</i>, however, is the stronger word, and generally the better<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></SPAN></span>
word to use. <i>Ill</i> is used in England more than with us:
there <i>sick</i> is generally limited to the expressing of nausea;
as, "sick at the stomach."</p>
<p><b>Signature, over or under?</b> A man writes <i>under</i>, not
<i>over</i>, a signature. Charles Dickens wrote <i>under</i> the signature
of "Boz"; Mr. Samuel L. Clemens writes <i>under</i> the
signature of "Mark Twain." The reason given in Webster's
Dictionary for preferring the use of <i>under</i> is absurd;
viz., that the paper is <i>under</i> the hand in writing. The
expression is elliptical, and has no reference to the position
either of the signature or of the paper. "Given under my
hand and seal" means "under the guarantee of my signature
and my seal." "Under his own signature" or "name"
means "under his own character, without disguise." "Under
the signature of Boz" means "under the disguise of the
assumed name Boz." We always write <i>under</i> a certain
date, though the date be placed, as it often is, at the bottom
of the page.</p>
<p><b>Signs.</b> In one of the principal business streets of New
York there is a sign which reads, "German Lace Store."
Now, whether this is a store that makes a specialty of German
laces, or whether it is a store where all kinds of lace
are sold, kept by a German or after the German fashion, is
something that the sign doubtless means to tell us, but,
owing to the absence of a hyphen ("German-Lace Store,"
or "German Lace-Store"), does not tell us. Nothing is more
common than erroneous punctuation in signs, and gross
mistakes by the unlettered in the wording of the simplest
printed matter.</p>
<p>The bad taste, incorrect punctuation, false grammar,
and ridiculous nonsense met with on signs and placards,
and in advertisements, are really surprising. An advertisement
tells us that "a pillow which assists in procuring<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></SPAN></span>
sleep is a <i>benediction</i>"; a placard, that they have "Charlotte
<i>de</i> Russe" for sale within, which means, if it means
anything, that they have for sale somebody or something
called Charlotte of Russian; and, then, on how many signs
do we see the possessive case when the plural number is
intended!</p>
<p><b>Simile.</b> In rhetoric, a direct and formal comparison is
called a <i>simile</i>. It is generally denoted by <i>like</i>, <i>as</i>, or
<i>so</i>; as,</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i9">"I have ventured,<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Like</i> little wanton boys that swim on bladders,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">These many summers in a sea of glory."<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Thy smile is <i>as</i> the dawn of vernal day."—Shakespeare.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"<i>As</i>, down in the sunless retreats of the ocean,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Sweet flow'rets are springing no mortal can see;<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>So</i>, deep in my bosom, the prayer of devotion,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Unheard by the world, rises silent to thee."—Moore.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'Tis with our judgments <i>as</i> with our watches; none<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Go just alike, yet each believes his own."—Pope.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Grace abused brings forth the foulest deeds,<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>As</i> richest soil the most luxuriant weeds."—Cowper.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"<i>As</i> no roads are so rough as those that have just been
mended, <i>so</i> no sinners are so intolerant as those who have
just turned saints."—"Lacon."</p>
<p><b>Sin.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Crime">Crime</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Since—Ago.</b> Dr. Johnson says of these two adverbs:
"Reckoning time toward the present, we use <i>since</i>; as,
'It is a year <i>since</i> it happened': reckoning from the present,
we use <i>ago</i>; as, 'It is a year <i>ago</i>.' This is not, perhaps,
always observed."</p>
<p>Dr. Johnson's rule will hardly suffice as a sure guide.
<i>Since</i> is often used for <i>ago</i>, but <i>ago</i> never for <i>since</i>. <i>Ago</i> is
derived from the participle <i>agone</i>, while <i>since</i> comes from a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></SPAN></span>
preposition. We say properly, "not long" or "some time
<i>ago</i> [agone]." <i>Since</i> requires a verbal clause after it; as,
"<i>Since</i> I saw you"; "<i>Since</i> he was here."</p>
<p><b>Sing.</b> Of the two forms—<i>sang</i> and <i>sung</i>—for the imperfect
tense of the verb to <i>sing</i>, the former—<i>sang</i>—is to be
preferred.</p>
<p><b>Sit.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Set">Set</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Slang.</b> The slang that is heard among respectable
people is made up of genuine words, to which an arbitrary
meaning is given. It is always low, generally coarse, and
not unfrequently foolish. With the exception of <i>cant</i>, there
is nothing that is more to be shunned. We sometimes meet
with persons of considerable culture who interlard their
talk with slang expressions, but it is safe to assert that they
are always persons of coarse natures.</p>
<p><b>Smart.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Clever">Clever</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Smell of.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Taste_of">Taste of</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>So.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#As">As</SPAN></span>; <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Such">Such</SPAN></span>; <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#That">That</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>So much so.</b> "The shipments by the coast steamers
are very large, <i>so much so</i> [large?] as to tax the capacity of
the different lines."—"Telegram," September 19, 1881.
The sentence should be, "The shipments by the coast
steamers are very large, <i>so large</i> as to tax," etc.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Solecism" id="Solecism"></SPAN>Solecism.</b> In rhetoric, a solecism is defined as an offense
against the rules of grammar by the use of words in a
wrong construction; false syntax.</p>
<p>"Modern grammarians designate by <i>solecism</i> any word
or expression which does not agree with the established
usage of writing or speaking. But, as customs change, that
which at one time is considered a <i>solecism</i> may at another
be regarded as correct language. A <i>solecism</i>, therefore,
differs from a <i>barbarism</i>, inasmuch as the latter consists in
the use of a word or expression which is altogether contrary<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></SPAN></span>
to the spirit of the language, and can, properly
speaking, never become established as correct language."—"Penny
Cyclopædia." See, also, <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Barbarism">Barbarism</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Some.</b> This word is not unfrequently misused for <i>somewhat</i>;
thus, "She is <i>some</i> better to-day." It is likewise
often misused for <i>about</i>; thus, "I think it is <i>some</i> ten miles
from here": read, "<i>about</i> ten miles from here."</p>
<p><b>Specialty.</b> This form has within a recent period been
generally substituted for <i>speciality</i>. There is no apparent
reason, however, why the <i>i</i> should be dropped, since it is
required by the etymology of the word, and is retained in
nearly all other words of the same formation.</p>
<p><b>Specious Fallacy.</b> A <i>fallacy</i> is a sophism, a logical
artifice, a deceitful or false appearance; while <i>specious</i>
means having the appearance of truth, plausible. Hence
we see that the very essence of a <i>fallacy</i> is its <i>speciousness</i>.
We may very properly say that a <i>fallacy</i> is more or less
<i>specious</i>, but we can not properly say that a fallacy <i>is</i> specious,
since without speciousness we can have no fallacies.</p>
<p><b>Splendid.</b> This poor word is used by the gentler sex
to qualify well-nigh everything that has their approval, from
a sugar-plum to the national capitol. In fact, <i>splendid</i> and
<i>awful</i> seem to be about the only adjectives some of our
superlative young women have in their vocabularies.</p>
<p><b>Standpoint.</b> This is a word to which many students
of English seriously object, and among them are the editors
of some of our daily papers, who do not allow it to appear
in their columns. The phrase to which no one objects
is, <i>point of view</i>.</p>
<p><b>State.</b> This word, which properly means to make
known specifically, to explain particularly, is often misused
for <i>say</i>. When <i>say</i> says all one <i>wants</i> to say, why use a
more pretentious word?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Stop.</b> "Where are you <i>stopping</i>?" "At the Metropolitan."
The proper word to use here is <i>staying</i>. <i>To stop</i>
means to cease to go forward, to leave off; and <i>to stay</i>
means to abide, to tarry, to dwell, to sojourn. We <i>stay</i>,
not <i>stop</i>, at home, at a hotel, or with a friend, as the case
may be.</p>
<p><b>Storm.</b> Many persons indulge in a careless use of this
word, using it when they mean to say simply that it rains
or snows. To a <i>storm</i> a violent commotion of the atmosphere
is indispensable. A very high wind constitutes a
storm, though it be dry.</p>
<p><b>Straightway.</b> Here is a good Anglo-Saxon word of
<i>two</i> syllables whose place, without any good reason, is
being usurped by the Latin word <i>immediately</i>, of <i>five</i> syllables.</p>
<p><b>Street.</b> We live <i>in</i>, not <i>on</i>—meet our acquaintances <i>in</i>,
not <i>on</i>—things occur <i>in</i>, not <i>on</i>—houses are built <i>in</i>, not
<i>on</i>, the street, and so forth.</p>
<p><b>Style.</b> This is a term that is used to characterize the
peculiarities that distinguish a writer or a composition.
Correctness and clearness properly belong to the domain of
<i>diction</i>; simplicity, conciseness, gravity, elegance, diffuseness,
floridity, force, feebleness, coarseness, etc., belong to
the domain of <i>style</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Subjunctive_Mood" id="Subjunctive_Mood"></SPAN>Subjunctive Mood.</b> This mood is unpopular with not
a few now-a-day grammarians. One says that it is rapidly
falling into disuse; that, in fact, there is good reason to
suppose it will soon become obsolete. Another says that
it would, perhaps, be better to abolish it entirely, as its use
is a continual source of dispute among grammarians and of
perplexity to schools. Another says that it is a universal
stumbling-block; that nobody seems to understand it, although
almost everybody attempts to use it.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>That the subjunctive mood is much less used now than
it was a hundred years ago is certain, but that it is obsolescent
is very far from certain. It would not be easy, I
think, to find a single contemporary writer who does not
use it. That it is not always easy to determine what form
of it we should employ is very true; but if we are justified in
abolishing it altogether, as Mr. Chandler suggests, because
its correct use is not always easy, then we are also justified
in abolishing the use of <i>shall</i> and <i>will</i>, and of the prepositions,
for surely their right use is likewise at times most
puzzling. Meanwhile, most persons will think it well to
learn to use the subjunctive mood properly. With that
object in view, one can not, perhaps, do better than to attend
to what Dr. Alexander Bain, Professor of Logic in
the University of Aberdeen, says upon the subject. In
Professor Bain's "Higher English Grammar" we find:</p>
<p>"In subordinate clauses.—In a clause expressing a condition,
and introduced by a conjunction of condition, the
verb is sometimes, but not always, in the subjunctive mood:
'If I <i>be</i> able,' 'if I <i>were</i> strong enough,' 'if thou <i>should</i>
come.'</p>
<p>"The subjunctive inflexions have been wholly lost.
The sense that something is wanting appears to have led
many writers to use indicative forms where the subjunctive
might be expected. The tendency appears strongest in the
case of 'wert,' which is now used as indicative (for 'wast')
only in poetical or elevated language.</p>
<p>"The following is the rule given for the use of the subjunctive
mood:</p>
<p>"When in a conditional clause it is intended to express
doubt or denial, use the subjunctive mood.<SPAN name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</SPAN> 'If I <i>were</i>
sure of what you tell me, I would go.'</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"When the conditional clause is <i>affirmative</i> and <i>certain</i>,
the verb is <i>indicative</i>: 'If that <i>is</i> the case' (as you now tell
me, and as I believe), 'I can understand you.' This is
equivalent to a clause of assumption, or supposition: 'That
being the case,' 'inasmuch as that is the case,' etc.</p>
<p>"As <i>futurity</i> is by its nature uncertain, the subjunctive
is extensively used for future conditionality: 'If it <i>rain</i>, we
shall not be able to go'; 'if I <i>be</i> well'; 'if he <i>come</i> shortly';
'if thou <i>return</i> at all in peace'; 'though he <i>slay</i> me,
yet will I trust in him.' These events are all in the uncertain
future, and are put in the subjunctive.<SPAN name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</SPAN></p>
<p>"A future result or consequence is expressed by the
subjunctive in such instances as these: 'I will wait till he
<i>return</i>'; 'no fear lest dinner <i>cool</i>'; 'thou shalt stone him
with stones, that he <i>die</i>'; 'take heed lest at any time your
hearts <i>be</i> overcharged with surfeiting.'</p>
<p>"Uncertainty as to a past event may arise from our
own ignorance, in which case the subjunctive is properly
employed, and serves the useful purpose of distinguishing<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></SPAN></span>
our ignorance from our knowledge. 'If any of my readers
<i>has</i> looked with so little attention upon the world around
him'; this would mean—'as I know that they have.' The
meaning intended is probably—'as I do not know whether
they have or not,' and therefore the subjunctive 'have' is
preferable. 'If ignorance <i>is</i> bliss,' which I (ironically)
admit. Had Gray been speaking seriously, he would have
said, 'if ignorance <i>be</i> bliss,' he himself dissenting from the
proposition.</p>
<p>"A wish contrary to the fact takes the subjunctive: 'I
wish he <i>were</i> here' (which he is not).</p>
<p>"An intention not yet carried out is also subjunctive:
'The sentence is that you <i>be</i> imprisoned.'</p>
<p>"The only correct form of the future subjunctive is—'if
I should.' We may say, 'I do not know whether or not
I <i>shall</i> come'; but 'if I shall come,' expressing a condition,
is not an English construction. 'If he will' has a real
meaning, as being the present subjunctive of the verb
'will': 'if he be willing,' 'if he have the will.' It is in
accordance with good usage to express a future subjunctive
meaning by a present tense; but in that case the form must
be strictly subjunctive, and not indicative. 'If any member
<i>absents</i> himself, he shall forfeit a penny for the use of
the club'; this ought to be either 'absent,' or 'should
absent.' 'If thou <i>neglectest</i> or <i>doest</i> unwillingly what I command
thee, I will rack thee with old cramps'; better, 'if
thou <i>neglect</i> or <i>do</i> unwillingly,' or 'if thou should neglect.'
The indicative would be justified by the speaker's belief
that the supposition is sure to turn out to be the fact.</p>
<p>"The past subjunctive may imply denial; as, 'if the
book <i>were</i> in the library (as it is not), it should be at your
service.'</p>
<p>"'If the book <i>be</i> in the library,' means, 'I do not know<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></SPAN></span>
whether it be or not.' We have thus the power of discriminating
<i>three</i> different suppositions. 'If the book <i>is</i> in the
library' (as I know it is); 'if it <i>be</i>' (I am uncertain); 'if it
<i>were</i>' (as I know it is not). So, 'if it rains,' 'if it rain,' 'if
it rained.' 'Nay, and the villains march wide between the
legs, as if they <i>had</i> gyves on,' implying that they had not.</p>
<p>"The same power of the past tense is exemplified in
'if I <i>could</i>, I would,' which means, 'I can not'; whereas,
'if I can, I will,' means 'I do not know.'</p>
<p>"The past subjunctive may be expressed by an inversion:
'<i>Had</i> I the power,' '<i>were</i> I as I have been.'</p>
<p>"In Principal Clauses.—The principal clause in a conditional
statement also takes the subjunctive form when it
refers to what is future and contingent, and when it refers
to what is past and uncertain, or denied. 'If he should
try, he <i>would</i> succeed'; 'if I had seen him, I <i>should</i> have
asked him.'</p>
<p>"The usual forms of the subjunctive in the principal
clause are 'would,' 'should,' 'would have,' 'should have';
and it is to be noted that in this application the second persons
take the inflexional ending of the indicative: 'shouldst,'
'wouldst.'</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'If 'twere done when 'tis done, then 't<i>were</i> (would be) well<br/></span>
<span class="i0">It <i>were</i> (should be) done quickly.'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"The English idiom appears sometimes to permit the
use of an indicative where we should expect a subjunctive
form. 'Many acts, that <i>had</i> been otherwise blamable,
were employed'; 'I <i>had</i> fainted, unless I had believed,' etc.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'Which else <i>lie</i> furled and shrouded in the soul.'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"In 'else' there is implied a conditional clause that
would suit 'lie'; or the present may be regarded as a
more vivid form of expression. 'Had' may be indicative;
just as we sometimes find pluperfect indicative for pluperfect<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></SPAN></span>
subjunctive in the same circumstances in Latin. We
may refer it to the general tendency, as already seen in the
uses of 'could,' 'would,' 'should,' etc., to express conditionality
by a past tense; or the indicative may be used
as a more direct and vivid mode. 'Had' may be subjunctive;
'I <i>had</i> fainted' is, in construction, analogous to 'I
<i>should</i> have fainted'; the word for futurity, 'shall,' not
being necessary to the sense, is withdrawn, and its past
inflexion transferred to 'have.' Compare Germ. <i>würde
haben</i> and <i>hätte</i>."</p>
<p>In addition to the foregoing, we find in Professor Bain's
"Composition Grammar" the following:</p>
<p>"The case most suited to the subjunctive is <i>contingent
futurity</i>, or the expression of an event unknown absolutely,
as being still in the future: 'If to-morrow <i>be</i> fine, I will
walk with you.'</p>
<p>"'Unless I <i>were</i> prepared,' insinuates pretty strongly
that I am or am not prepared, according to the manner of
the principal clause.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'What's a tall man unless he <i>fight</i>?'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'The sword hath ended him: so shall it thee,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Unless thou <i>yield</i> thee as my prisoner.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'Who but must laugh, if such a man there <i>be</i>?<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Who would not weep, if Atticus <i>were</i> he?'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"'I am to second Ion if he <i>fail</i>'; the failing is left
quite doubtful. 'I should very imperfectly execute the
task which I have undertaken if I <i>were</i> merely to treat
of battles and sieges.' Macaulay thus implies that the
scope of his work is to be wider than mere battles and
sieges.</p>
<p>"The subjunctive appears in some other constructions.
'I hope to see the exhibition before <i>it close</i>'; 'wait till he
<i>return</i>'; 'thou shall stand by the river's brink against he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></SPAN></span>
<i>come</i>'; 'take heed lest passion <i>sway</i> thy judgment'; 'speak
to me, though it <i>be</i> in wrath'; 'if he <i>smite</i> him with an instrument
of iron so that he <i>die</i>, he is a murderer'; 'beware
this night that thou <i>cross</i> not my footsteps' (Shelley).</p>
<p>"Again. 'Whatever this <i>be</i>'; 'whoever he <i>be</i>'; 'howe'er
it <i>be</i>' (Tennyson); and such like.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'And <i>as long</i>, O God, <i>as</i> she<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Have</i> a grain of love for me,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">So long, no doubt, no doubt,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Shall I nurse in my dark heart,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">However weary, a spark of will<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Not to be trampled out.'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"The Future Subjunctive is given in our scheme of the
verb as 'should' in all persons: 'If I should, if thou
should, if he should.' In old English, we have 'thou
<i>shouldst</i>': 'if thou, Lord, <i>shouldst</i> mark iniquities.'</p>
<p>"An inverted conditional form has taken deep root in
our language, and may be regarded as an elegant and forcible
variety. While dispensing with the conjunction, it
does not cause ambiguity; nevertheless, conditionality is
well marked.</p>
<p>"'<i>If</i> you <i>should</i> abandon your Penelope and your home
for Calypso, ——': '<i>should</i> you abandon ——.'</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i4">"'<i>Go</i> not my horse the better,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">I must become a borrower of the night<br/></span>
<span class="i0">For a dark hour or twain.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'Here had we now our country's honor roof'd<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Were</i> the graced person of our Banquo present.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'<i>Be</i> thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Bring</i> with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Be</i> thy intents wicked or charitable,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Thou com'st in such a questionable shape<br/></span>
<span class="i0">That I will speak to thee.'<br/></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'<i>Come</i> one, <i>come</i> all, this rock shall fly<br/></span>
<span class="i0">From its firm base as soon as I.'—Scott.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"The following examples are given by Mätzner:</p>
<p>"'Varney's communications, <i>be</i> they what they might,
were operating in his favor.'—Scott.</p>
<p>"'Governing persons, <i>were</i> they never so insignificant
intrinsically, have for most part plenty of Memoir-writers.'—Carlyle.</p>
<p>"'Even <i>were</i> I disposed, I could not gratify the reader.'—Warren.</p>
<p>"'Bring them back to me, <i>cost</i> what it may.'—Coleridge,
'Wallenstein.'</p>
<p>"'And <i>will</i> you, <i>nill</i> you, I will marry you.'—'Taming
of the Shrew.'</p>
<p>"<i>Were</i> is used in the principal clause for 'should be'
or 'would be.'<SPAN name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</SPAN></p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'I <i>were</i> (=should be) a fool, not less than if a panther<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Were panic-stricken by the antelope's eye,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">If she escape me.'—Shelley.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'Were you but riding forth to air yourself,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Such parting <i>were</i> too petty.'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"'He <i>were</i> (=would be) no lion, were not Romans
hinds.'</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'Should he be roused out of his sleep to-night, ...<br/></span>
<span class="i0">It <i>were</i> not well; indeed it <i>were</i> not well.'—Shelley.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"<i>Had</i> is sometimes used in the principal clause for
'should have' or 'would have.'<SPAN name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</SPAN></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"'Had I known this before we set out, I think I <i>had</i>
(= would have) remained at home.'—Scott.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'Hadst thou been kill'd when first thou didst presume,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Thou <i>hadst</i> not lived to kill a son of mine.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i12">"'If he<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Had killed me, he <i>had</i> done a kinder deed.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'For once he <i>had</i> been ta'en or slain,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">An it had not been his ministry.'—Scott.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'If thou hadst said him nay, it <i>had</i> been sin.'<SPAN name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</SPAN><br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"'<i>Had</i> better, rather, best, as lief, as well, etc.,' is a
form that is explained under this heading. 'Had' stands
for 'would have.' The exploded notion that 'had' is a
corrupted 'would' must be guarded against.</p>
<p>"'I <i>had</i> as lief not be.' That is—'I <i>would</i> as lief <i>have</i>
not (<i>to</i>) be' = 'I would as willingly (or as soon) have non-existence.'</p>
<p>"'<i>Had</i> you rather Cæsar were living——?' '<i>Would</i>
you rather <i>have</i> (<i>would</i> you <i>prefer</i> that) Cæsar were living?'</p>
<p>"'He <i>had</i> better reconsider the matter' is 'he <i>would</i>
better <i>have</i> (<i>to</i>) reconsider the matter.'</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'I <i>had</i> rather be a kitten and cry mew<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">I <i>had</i> rather hear a brazen canstick turned.'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"Let us compare this form with another that appears
side by side with it in early writers. (Cp. Lat. 'habeo'
and 'mihi est.')</p>
<p>"The construction of 'had' is thus illustrated in Chaucer,
as in—Nonne Prestes Tale, 300:<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></SPAN></span></p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'By God, I <i>hadde</i> levere than my scherte,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">That ye hadde rad his legend, as I have.'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"Compare now:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'Ah <i>me were levere</i> with lawe <i>loose</i> my lyf<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Then so to fote hem <i>falle</i>.'—Wright, 'Polit. S.'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"Here 'were' is unquestionably for 'would be'; and
the whole expression might be given by 'had,' thus: 'Ah,
<i>I hadde</i> levere ——,' '(to) <i>loose</i>' and '(to) <i>falle</i>,' changing
from subjects of 'were' to objects of 'hadde.'</p>
<p>"So, in the Chaucer example above, if we substitute
'be' for 'have,' we shall get the same meaning, thus: 'By
God, <i>me were</i> levere ——.' The interchange helps us to
see more clearly that 'hadde' is to be explained as subjunctive
for 'would have.'" See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Indicative_and_Subjunctive">Indicative and Subjunctive</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Such" id="Such"></SPAN>Such.</b> "I have never before seen <i>such</i> a large ox."
By a little transposing of the words of this sentence, we
have, "I have never before seen an ox <i>such</i> large," which
makes it quite clear that we should say <i>so large an ox</i> and
not <i>such a large ox</i>. As proof that this error in the use of
<i>such</i> is common, we find in Mr. George Washington Moon's
"Dean's English and Bad English," the sentence, "With
all due deference to <i>such</i> a high authority on <i>such</i> a very
important matter." With a little transposing, this sentence
is made to read, "With all due deference to an authority
<i>such</i> high on a matter <i>such</i> very important." It is clear that
the sentence should read, "With all due deference to <i>so</i> high
an authority on <i>so</i> very important a matter." The phrases,
<i>such</i> a handsome, <i>such</i> a lovely, <i>such</i> a long, <i>such</i> narrow,
etc., are incorrect, and should be <i>so</i> handsome, <i>so</i> lovely, <i>so</i>
long, and so on.</p>
<p><b>Summon.</b> This verb comes in for its full share of mauling.
We often hear such expressions as "I will <i>summons</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></SPAN></span>
him," instead of <i>summon</i> him; and "He was <i>summonsed</i>,"
instead of <i>summoned</i>.</p>
<p><b>Superfluous Words.</b> "Whenever I try to write well, I
<i>always</i> find I can do it." "I shall have finished by the <i>latter</i>
end of the week." "Iron sinks <i>down</i> in water." "He combined
<i>together</i> all the facts." "My brother called on me,
and we <i>both</i> took a walk." "I can do it <i>equally</i> as well as
he." "We could not forbear <i>from</i> doing it." "Before I
go, I must <i>first</i> be paid." "We were compelled to return
<i>back</i>." "We forced them to retreat <i>back</i> fully a mile."
"His conduct was approved <i>of</i> by everybody." "They
conversed <i>together</i> for a long time." "The balloon rose <i>up</i>
very rapidly." "Give me another <i>one</i>." "Come home as
soon as <i>ever</i> you can." "Who finds him <i>in</i> money?" "He
came in last <i>of all</i>." "He has <i>got</i> all he can carry." "What
have you <i>got</i>?" "No matter what I have <i>got</i>." "I have
<i>got</i> the headache." "Have you <i>got</i> any brothers?" "No,
but I have <i>got</i> a sister." All the words in <i>italics</i> are superfluous.</p>
<p><b>Superior.</b> This word is not unfrequently used for able,
excellent, gifted; as, "She is a <i>superior</i> woman," meaning
an <i>excellent</i> woman; "He is a <i>superior</i> man," meaning an
<i>able</i> man. The expression <i>an inferior man</i> is not less objectionable.</p>
<p><b>Supposititious.</b> This word is <i>properly</i> used in the sense
of put by a trick into the place or character belonging to
another, spurious, counterfeit, not genuine; and <i>improperly</i>
in the sense of conjectural, hypothetical, imaginary,
presumptive; as, "This is a <i>supposititious</i> case," meaning
an <i>imaginary</i> or <i>presumptive</i> case. "The English critic derived
his materials from a stray copy of some <i>supposititious</i>
indexes devised by one of the 'Post' reporters."—"Nation."
Here is a correct use of the word.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Swosh.</b> There is a kind of ill-balanced brain in which
the reflective and the imaginative very much outweight the
perceptive. Men to whom this kind of an organization has
been given generally have active minds, but their minds
never present anything clearly. To their mental vision all
is ill-defined, chaotic. They see everything in a haze.
Whether such men talk or write, they are verbose, illogical,
intangible, will-o'-the-wispish. Their thoughts are phantomlike;
like shadows, they continually escape their grasp.
In their talk they will, after long dissertations, tell you that
they have not said just what they would like to say; there is
always a subtle, lurking something still unexpressed, which
something is the real essence of the matter, and which your
penetration is expected to divine. In their writings they
are eccentric, vague, labyrinthine, pretentious, transcendental,<SPAN name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</SPAN>
and frequently ungrammatical. These men, if write
they must, should confine themselves to the descriptive;
for when they enter the essayist's domain, which they are
very prone to do, they write what I will venture to call
<i>swosh</i>.</p>
<p>We find examples in plenty of this kind of writing in
the essays of Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson. Indeed, the impartial
critic who will take the trouble to examine any of
Mr. Emerson's essays at all carefully, is quite sure to come
to the conclusion that Mr. Emerson has seen everything he
has ever made the subject of his essays very much as London
is seen from the top of Saint Paul's in a fog.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>Mr. Emerson's definition of Nature runs thus: "Philosophically
considered, the universe is composed of Nature
and the Soul. Strictly speaking, therefore, all that is separate
from us, all which philosophy distinguishes from the
<i>Not Me</i>—that is, both Nature and Art, and all other men,
and my own body—must be ranked under this name '<span class="smcap">Nature</span>.'
In enumerating the values of Nature and casting
up their sum, I shall use the word in both senses—in its
common and in its philosophical import. In inquiries so
general as our present one, the inaccuracy is not material;
no confusion of thought will occur. <i>Nature</i>, in the common
sense, refers to essences unchanged by man: space,
the air, the river, the leaf. <i>Art</i> is applied to the mixture
of his will with the same things, as in a house, a canal, a
picture, a statue. But his operations, taken together, are
so insignificant—a little chipping, baking, patching, and
washing—that in an impression so grand as that of the
world on the human mind they do not vary the result."</p>
<p>In "Letters and Social Aims" Mr. Emerson writes:
"Eloquence is the power to translate a truth into language
perfectly intelligible to the person to whom you speak. He
who would convince the worthy Mr. Dunderhead of any
truth which Dunderhead does not see, must be a master of
his art. Declamation is common; but such possession of
thought as is here required, such practical chemistry as the
conversion of a truth written in God's language into a truth
in Dunderhead's language, is one of the most beautiful and
cogent weapons that is forged in the shop of the Divine
Artificer."</p>
<p>The first paragraph of Mr. Emerson's "Essay on Art"
reads: "All departments of life at the present day—Trade,
Politics, Letters, Science, or Religion—seem to feel,
and to labor to express, the identity of their law. They are<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></SPAN></span>
rays of one sun; they translate each into a new language
the sense of the other. They are sublime when seen as
emanations of a Necessity contradistinguished from the
vulgar Fate by being instant and alive, and dissolving man,
as well as his works, in its flowing beneficence. This influence
is conspicuously visible in the principles and history
of Art."</p>
<p>Another paragraph from Mr. Emerson's "Essay on
Eloquence": "The orator, as we have seen, must be a
substantial personality. Then, first, he must have power
of statement—must have the fact, and know how to tell
it. In a knot of men conversing on any subject, the person
who knows most about it will have the ear of the
company, if he wishes it, and lead the conversation, no
matter what genius or distinction other men there present
may have; and, in any public assembly, him who has the
facts, and can and will state them, people will listen to,
though he is otherwise ignorant, though he is hoarse and
ungrateful, though he stutters and screams."</p>
<p>Mr. Emerson, in his "Essay on Prudence," writes:
"There are all degrees of proficiency in knowledge of the
world. It is sufficient to our present purpose to indicate
three. One class live to the utility of the symbol, esteeming
health and wealth a final good. Another class
live above this mark to the beauty of the symbol, as the
poet and artist, and the naturalist and man of science. A
third class live above the beauty of the symbol to the
beauty of the thing signified; these are wise men. The
first class have common sense; the second, taste; and the
third, spiritual perception. Once in a long time a man
traverses the whole scale, and sees and enjoys the symbol
solidly; then, also, has a clear eye for its beauty; and,
lastly, whilst he pitches his tent on this sacred volcanic isle<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></SPAN></span>
of nature, does not offer to build houses and barns thereon,
reverencing the splendor of God which he sees bursting
through each chink and cranny."</p>
<p>Those who are wont to accept others at their self-assessment
and to see things through other people's eyes—and
there are many such—are in danger of thinking
this kind of writing very fine, when in fact it is not only the
veriest <i>swosh</i>, but that kind of swosh that excites at least
an occasional doubt with regard to the writer's sanity.
We can make no greater mistake than to suppose that the
reason we do not understand these rhetorical contortionists
is because they are so subtle and profound. We understand
them quite as well as they understand themselves.
At their very best, they are but incoherent diluters of other
men's ideas. They have but one thing to recommend them—honesty.
They believe in themselves.</p>
<p>"Whatever is dark is deep. Stir a puddle, and it is
deeper than a well."—Swift.</p>
<p><b>Synecdoche.</b> The using of the name of a part for
that of the whole, the name of the whole for that of a part,
or the using of a definite number for an indefinite, is called,
in rhetoric, <i>synecdoche</i>. "The bay was covered with <i>sails</i>";
i. e., with <i>ships</i>. "The man was old, careworn, and gray";
i. e., literally, <i>his hair</i>, not the man, was gray. "<i>Nine
tenths</i> of every man's happiness depends on the reception
he meets with in the world." "He had seen seventy <i>winters</i>."
"Thus spoke the <i>tempter</i>": here the part of the
character is named that suits the occasion.</p>
<p>"His roof was at the service of the outcast; the unfortunate
ever found a welcome at his threshold."</p>
<p><b>Take.</b> I copy from the "London Queen": "The
verb <i>to take</i> is open to being considered a vulgar verb when
used in reference to dinner, tea, or to refreshments of any<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></SPAN></span>
kind. 'Will you <i>take</i>' is not considered <i>comme il faut</i>;
the verb in favor for the offering of civilities being <i>to have</i>."
According to "The Queen," then, we must say, "Will you
<i>have</i> some dinner, tea, coffee, wine, fish, beef, salad," etc.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Taste_of" id="Taste_of"></SPAN>Taste of.</b> The redundant <i>of</i>, often used, in this country,
in connection with the transitive verbs <i>to taste</i> and <i>to
smell</i>, is a Yankeeism. We <i>taste</i> or <i>smell</i> a thing, not taste
<i>of</i> nor smell <i>of</i> a thing. The neuter verbs <i>to taste</i> and <i>to
smell</i> are often followed by <i>of</i>. "If butter <i>tastes of</i> brass."
"For age but <i>tastes of</i> pleasures."</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"You shall stifle in your own report,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">and <i>smell of</i> calumny."—Shakespeare.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p><b>Tautology.</b> Among the things to be avoided in writing
is <i>tautology</i>, which is <i>the repeating of the same thought</i>,
whether in the same or in different words.</p>
<p><b>Tautophony.</b> "A regard for harmony requires us, in
the progress of a sentence, to avoid repeating a sound by
employing the same word more than once, or using, in
contiguous words, similar combinations of letters. This
fault is known as <i>tautology</i>."—Dr. G. P. Quackenbos, "Advanced
Course of Composition and Rhetoric," p. 300. Dr.
Quackenbos is in error. The repetition of the same <i>sense</i>
is tautology, and the repetition of the same <i>sound</i>, or, as
Dr. Quackenbos has it, "the repeating of a sound by employing
the same word more than once, or by using in
contiguous words similar combinations of letters," is <i>tautophony</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Teach" id="Teach"></SPAN>Teach.</b> To impart knowledge, to inform, to instruct;
as, "<i>Teach</i> me how to do it"; "<i>Teach</i> me to swim"; "He
<i>taught</i> me to write." The uncultured often misuse <i>learn</i>
for <i>teach</i>. See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Learn">Learn</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Tense.</b> The errors made in the use of the tenses are
manifold. The one most frequently made by persons of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></SPAN></span>
culture—the one that everybody makes would, perhaps, be
nearer the fact—is that of using the <i>imperfect</i> instead of
the <i>perfect</i> tense; thus, "I never <i>saw</i> it played but once":
say, <i>have seen</i>. "He was the largest man I ever <i>saw</i>": say,
<i>have seen</i>. "I never in my life <i>had</i> such trouble": say,
<i>have had</i>. Another frequent error, the making of which
is not confined to the unschooled, is that of using two
verbs in a past tense when only one should be in that time;
thus, "I intended to <i>have gone</i>": say, <i>to go</i>. "It was my
intention to <i>have</i> come": say, <i>to come</i>. "I expected to
<i>have found</i> you here": say, <i>to find</i>. "I was very desirous
to <i>have gone</i>": say, <i>to go</i>. "He was better than I expected
to <i>have found</i> him": say, <i>to find</i>.</p>
<p>Among other common errors are the following: "I <i>seen</i>
him when he <i>done</i> it": say, "I <i>saw</i> him when he <i>did</i> it."
"I should have <i>went</i> home": say, <i>gone</i>. "If he had <i>went</i>":
say, <i>gone</i>. "I wish you had <i>went</i>": say, <i>gone</i>. "He has
<i>went</i> out": say, <i>gone</i>. "I <i>come</i> to town this morning":
say, <i>came</i>. "He <i>come</i> to me for advice": say, <i>came</i>. "It
<i>begun</i> very late": say, <i>began</i>. "It had already <i>began</i>":
say, <i>begun</i>. "The following toasts were <i>drank</i>": say, <i>drunk</i>.
"His text was that God <i>was</i> love": say, <i>is</i> love. Another
error is made in such sentences as these: "If I had <i>have</i>
known": say, <i>had known</i>. "If he had <i>have</i> come as he
promised": say, <i>had come</i>. "If you had <i>have</i> told me":
say, <i>had told</i>.</p>
<p><b>Testimony.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Evidence">Evidence</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Than.</b> <i>Than</i> and <i>as</i> implying comparison have the
same case after as before them. "He owes more than
<i>me</i>": read, than <i>I</i>—i. e., more than <i>I owe</i>. "John is not
so old as <i>her</i>": read, as <i>she</i>—i. e., as <i>she is</i>. We should
say, then, "He is stronger than <i>she</i>," "She is older than
<i>he</i>," "You are richer than <i>I</i>," etc. But it does not always<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></SPAN></span>
happen that the nominative case comes after <i>than</i> or <i>as</i>.
"I love you more than <i>him</i>," "I give you more than
<i>him</i>," "I love you as well as <i>him</i>"; that is to say, "I love
you more than <i>I love him</i>," "I give you more than <i>I give
him</i>," "I love you as well as <i>I love him</i>." Take away <i>him</i>
and put <i>he</i> in all these cases, and the grammar is just as
good, but the meaning is quite different. "I love you as
well as <i>him</i>," means that I love you as well <i>as I love him</i>;
but, "I love you as well as <i>he</i>," means that I love you as
well <i>as he loves you</i>.</p>
<p><b>Than whom.</b> Cobbett, in his "Grammar of the English
Language," says: "There is an erroneous way of employing
<i>whom</i>, which I must point out to your particular
attention, because it is so often seen in very good writers,
and because it is very deceiving. 'The Duke of Argyll,
<i>than whom</i> no man was more hearty in the cause.' 'Cromwell,
<i>than whom</i> no man was better skilled in artifice.' A
hundred such phrases might be collected from Hume,
Blackstone, and even from Drs. Blair and Johnson. Yet
they are bad grammar. In all such cases, <i>who</i> should be
made use of: for it is <i>nominative</i> and not objective. 'No
man was more hearty in the cause <i>than he was</i>'; 'No man
was better skilled in artifice <i>than he was</i>.'<SPAN name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</SPAN> It is a very
common Parliament-house phrase, and therefore presumably
<i>corrupt</i>; but it is a Dr. Johnson phrase, too: 'Pope, <i>than
whom</i> few men had more vanity.' The Doctor did not say,
'Myself, <i>than whom</i> few men have been found more base,
having, in my dictionary, described a pensioner as a slave
of state, and having afterward myself become a pensioner.'</p>
<p>"I differ in this matter from Bishop Lowth, who says<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></SPAN></span>
that 'The relative <i>who</i>, having reference to no verb or
preposition understood, but only to its antecedent, when it
follows <i>than</i>, is <i>always in the objective case</i>; even though
the pronoun, if substituted in its place, would be in the
nominative.' And then he gives an instance from Milton.
'Beelzebub, <i>than whom</i>, Satan except, none higher sat.' It
is curious enough that this sentence of the Bishop is, itself,
ungrammatical! Our poor unfortunate <i>it</i> is so placed as
to make it a matter of doubt whether the Bishop meant it
to relate to <i>who</i> or to <i>its antecedent</i>. However, we know
its meaning; but, though he says that <i>who</i>, when it follows
<i>than</i>, is always in the objective case, he gives us no reason
for this departure from a clear general principle; unless
we are to regard as a reason the example of Milton, who
has committed many hundreds, if not thousands, of grammatical
errors, many of which the Bishop himself has
pointed out. There is a sort of side-wind attempt at
reason in the words, 'having reference to no <i>verb</i> or <i>preposition</i>
understood.' I do not see the <i>reason</i>, even if this
could be; but it appears to me impossible that a noun or
pronoun can exist in a grammatical state without having
reference to some <i>verb</i> or <i>preposition</i>, either expressed or
understood. What is meant by Milton? 'Than Beelzebub,
none <i>sat</i> higher, except Satan.' And when, in order
to avoid the repetition of the word Beelzebub, the relative
becomes necessary, the full construction must be, 'no devil
sat higher <i>than who</i> sat, except Satan'; and not, 'no devil
sat higher <i>than whom</i> sat.'<SPAN name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</SPAN> The supposition that there
can be a noun or pronoun which has reference to <i>no verb</i>
and <i>no preposition</i>, is certainly a mistake."</p>
<p>Of this, Dr. Fitzedward Hall remarks, in his "Recent
Exemplifications of False Philology": "That any one<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></SPAN></span>
but Cobbett would abide this as English is highly improbable;
and how the expression—a quite classical one—which
he discards can be justified grammatically, except by
calling its <i>than</i> a preposition, others may resolve at their
leisure and pleasure."</p>
<p><b>Thanks.</b> There are many persons who think it in
questionable taste to use <i>thanks</i> for <i>thank you</i>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="That" id="That"></SPAN>That.</b> The best writers often appear to grope after a
separate employment for the several relatives.</p>
<p>"'<span class="smcap">That</span>' <i>is the proper restrictive, explicative, limiting,
or defining relative</i>.</p>
<p>"'<i>That</i>,' the neuter of the definite article, was early in
use as a neuter relative. All the other oldest relatives
gradually dropt away, and 'that' came to be applied also
to plural antecedents, and to masculines and feminines.
When 'as,' 'which,' and 'who' came forward to share the
work of 'that,' there seems to have arisen not a little uncertainty
about the relatives, and we find curious double forms:
'whom that,' 'which that,' 'which as,' etc. Gower has,
'Venus <i>whose</i> priest <i>that</i> I am'; Chaucer writes—'This
Abbot <i>which that</i> was an holy man,' 'his love <i>the which that</i>
he oweth.' By the Elizabethan period, these double forms
have disappeared, and all the relatives are used singly without
hesitation. From then till now, 'that' has been struggling
with 'who' and 'which' to regain superior favor,
with varying success. 'Who' is used for persons, 'which'
for things, in both numbers; so is 'that'; and the only
opportunity of a special application of 'that' lies in the
important distinction between coördination and restriction.
Now, as 'who' and 'which' are most commonly preferred
for coördination, it would be a clear gain to confine them
to this sense, and to reserve 'that' for the restrictive application
alone. This arrangement, then, would <i>fall in with</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></SPAN></span>
<i>the most general use of 'that,' especially beyond the limits of
formal composition</i>.</p>
<p>"The use of 'that' solely as restrictive, with 'who' and
'which' solely as coördinating, <i>also avoids ambiguities</i> that
often attend the indiscriminate use of 'who' and 'which'
for coördinate and for restrictive clauses. Thus, when we
say, 'his conduct surprised his English friends, <i>who</i> had not
known him long,' we may mean either that his English
friends generally were surprised (the relative being, in that
case, <i>coördinating</i>), or that only a portion of them—namely,
the particular portion that had not known him long—were
surprised. In this last case the relative is meant to define
or explain the antecedent, and the doubt would be removed
by writing thus: 'his English friends <i>that</i> had not known
him long.' So in the following sentence there is a similar
ambiguity in the use of 'which': 'the next winter <i>which</i>
you will spend in town will give you opportunities of making
a more prudent choice.' This may mean, either 'you
will spend next winter in town' ('which' being coördinating),
or 'the next of the winters when you are to live in
town,' let that come when it may. In the former case,
'which' is the proper relative; in the latter case, the meaning
is restrictive or defining, and would be best brought out
by 'that': 'the next winter <i>that</i> you will spend in town.'</p>
<p>"A further consideration in favor of employing 'that'
for explicative clauses is the unpleasant effect arising from
the <i>too frequent repetition of 'who' and 'which.'</i> Grammarians
often recommend 'that' as a means of varying the
style; but this end ought to be sought in subservience to
the still greater end of perspicuity.</p>
<p>"The following examples will serve further to illustrate
the distinction between <i>that</i>, on the one hand, and <i>who</i> and
<i>which</i>, on the other:<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"'In general, Mr. Burchell was fondest of the company
of children, <i>whom</i> he used to call harmless little men.'
'Whom' is here idiomatically used, being the equivalent of
'<i>and them</i> he used to call,' etc.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'Bacon at last, a mighty man, arose,<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Whom</i> a wise king and nation chose<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Lord Chancellor of both their laws.'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>Here, also, 'whom' is equal to 'and him.'</p>
<p>"In the following instance the relative is restrictive or
defining, and 'that' would be preferable: 'the conclusion
of the "Iliad" is like the exit of a great man out of company
<i>whom</i> he has entertained magnificently.' Compare
another of Addison's sentences: 'a man of polite imagination
is let into a great many pleasures <i>that</i> the vulgar are
not capable of receiving.'</p>
<p>"Both relatives are introduced discriminatingly in this
passage:—'She had learned that from Mrs. Wood, <i>who</i> had
heard it from her husband, <i>who</i> had heard it at the public-house
from the landlord, <i>who</i> had been let into the secret
by the boy <i>that</i> carried the beer to some of the prisoners.'</p>
<p>"The following sentences are ambiguous under the
modern system of using 'who' for both purposes:—'I met
the boatman <i>who</i> took me across the ferry.' If 'who' is
the proper relative here, the meaning is, 'I met the boatman,
<i>and he</i> took me across,' it being supposed that the boatman
is known and definite. But if there be several boatmen,
and I wish to indicate one in particular by the circumstance
that he had taken me across the ferry, I should use 'that.'
'The youngest boy <i>who</i> has learned to dance is James.'
This means either 'the youngest boy is James, <i>and he</i> has
learned to dance,' or, 'of the boys, the youngest that has
learned to dance is James.' This last sense is restrictive,
and 'that' should be used.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Turning now to 'which,' we may have a series of
parallel examples. 'The court, <i>which</i> gives currency to
manners, should be exemplary': here the meaning is 'the
court should be exemplary, <i>for the court</i> gives currency to
manners.' 'Which' is the idiomatic relative in this case.
'The cat, <i>which</i> you despise so much, is a very useful animal.'
The relative here also is coördinating, and not restrictive.
If it were intended to point out one individual
cat specially despised by the person addressed, 'that' would
convey the sense. 'A theory <i>which</i> does not tend to the
improvement of practice is utterly unworthy of regard.'
The meaning is restrictive; 'a theory <i>that</i> does not tend.'
The following sentence is one of many from Goldsmith that
give 'that' instead of 'which':—'Age, <i>that</i> lessens the enjoyment
of life, increases our desire of living.' Thackeray
also was fond of this usage. But it is not very common.</p>
<p>"'Their faith tended to make them improvident; but a
wise instinct taught them that if there was one thing <i>which</i>
ought not to be left to fate, or to the precepts of a deceased
prophet, it was the artillery'; a case where 'that' is the
proper relative.</p>
<p>"'All words, <i>which</i> are signs of complex ideas, furnish
matter of mistake.' This gives an erroneous impression,
and should be 'all words <i>that</i> are signs of complex ideas.'</p>
<p>"'In all cases of prescription, the universal practice of
judges is to direct juries by analogy to the Statute of Limitations,
to decide against incorporeal rights <i>which</i> have for
many years been relinquished': say instead, 'incorporeal
rights <i>that</i> have for many years,' and the sense is clear.</p>
<p>"It is necessary for the proper understanding of 'which'
to advert to its peculiar function of referring to a whole
clause as the antecedent: 'William ran along the top of the
wall, <i>which</i> alarmed his mother very much.' The antecedent<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></SPAN></span>
is obviously not the noun 'wall,' but the fact expressed
by the entire clause—'William ran,' etc. 'He by no means
wants sense, <i>which</i> only serves to aggravate his former folly';
namely, (not 'sense,' but) the circumstance 'that he does
not want sense.' 'He is neither over-exalted by prosperity,
nor too much depressed by misfortune; <i>which</i> you must
allow marks a great mind.' 'We have done many things
<i>which</i> we ought not to have done,' might mean 'we ought
not <i>to have done many things</i>'; that is, 'we ought to have
done few things.' 'That' would give the exact sense intended:
'we have done many things <i>that</i> we ought not to
have done.' 'He began to look after his affairs himself,
<i>which</i> was the way to make them prosper.'</p>
<p>"We must next allude to the cases where the relative is
governed by a preposition. We can use a preposition before
'who' and 'which,' but when the relative is 'that,' the
preposition must be thrown to the end of the clause. Owing
to an imperfect appreciation of the genius of our language,
offense was taken at this usage by some of our leading
writers at the beginning of last century, and to this circumstance
we must refer the disuse of 'that' as the relative of
restriction.<SPAN name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</SPAN></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"'It is curious that the only circumstance connected
with Scott, and related by Lockhart, <i>of which</i> I was a witness,
is incorrectly stated in the "Life of Sir Walter."'—Leslie's
'Memoirs.' The relative should be restrictive:
'<i>that</i> I was a witness <i>of</i>.'</p>
<p>"'There are many words <i>which</i> are adjectives <i>which</i>
have nothing to do with the qualities of the nouns <i>to which</i>
they are put.'—Cobbett. Better: 'there are many words
<i>that</i> are adjectives <i>that</i> have nothing to do with the qualities
of the nouns (<i>that</i>) they are put <i>to</i>.'</p>
<p>"'Other objects, <i>of which</i> we have not occasion to speak
so frequently, we do not designate by a name of their own.'
This, if amended, would be: 'other objects <i>that</i> we have
not occasion to speak <i>of</i> so frequently, we do not,' etc.</p>
<p>"'Sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow <i>from which</i>
we refuse to be divorced': 'the only sorrow (<i>that</i>) we refuse
to be divorced <i>from</i>.'</p>
<p>"'Why, there is not a single sentence in this play <i>that</i>
I do not know the meaning <i>of</i>.'—Addison.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"'Originality is a thing we constantly clamor <i>for</i>, and
constantly quarrel <i>with</i>.'—Carlyle.</p>
<p>"'A spirit more amiable, but less vigorous, than Luther's
would have shrunk back from the dangers <i>which</i> he braved
and surmounted': '<i>that</i> he braved'; 'the dangers <i>braved</i>
and <i>surmounted</i> by him.'</p>
<p>"'Nor is it at all improbable that the emigrants had
been guilty of those faults <i>from which</i> civilized men <i>who</i>
settle among an uncivilized people are rarely free.'—Macaulay.
'Nor is it at all improbable that the emigrants
had been guilty of <i>the</i> faults <i>that</i> (<i>such</i> faults <i>as</i>) civilized
men <i>that settle</i> (<i>settling</i>, or <i>settled</i>) among an uncivilized
people are rarely free <i>from</i>.'</p>
<p>"'Prejudices are notions or opinions <i>which</i> the mind
entertains without knowing the grounds and reasons of
them, and <i>which</i> are assented to without examination.'—Berkeley.
The 'which' in both cases should be 'that,'
but the relative may be entirely dispensed with by participial
conversion: 'prejudices are notions or opinions <i>entertained</i>
by the mind without knowing the grounds and
reasons of them, and <i>assented</i> to without examination.'</p>
<p>"The too frequent repetition of 'who' and 'which'
may be avoided by resolving them into the conjunction and
personal or other pronoun: 'In such circumstances, the
utmost that Bosquet could be expected to do was to hold
his ground, (<i>which</i>) <i>and this</i> he did.'"—Bain's "Higher
English Grammar."</p>
<p>This word is sometimes vulgarly used for <i>so</i>; thus,
"I was <i>that</i> nervous I forgot everything"; "I was <i>that</i>
frightened I could hardly stand."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="The" id="The"></SPAN>The.</b> Bungling writers sometimes write sheer nonsense,
or say something very different from what they have
in their minds, by the simple omission of the definite article;<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></SPAN></span>
thus, "The indebtedness of the English tongue to the
French, Latin and Greek is disclosed in almost every sentence
framed." According to this, there is such a thing as
a French, Latin and Greek tongue. Professor Townsend
meant to say: "The indebtedness of the English tongue to
the French, <i>the</i> Latin, and <i>the</i> Greek," etc.</p>
<p><b>Then.</b> The use of this word as an adjective is condemned
in very emphatic terms by some of our grammarians,
and yet this use of it has the sanction of such
eminent writers as Addison, Johnson, Whately, and Sir J.
Hawkins. Johnson says, "In his <i>then</i> situation," which,
if brevity be really the soul of wit, certainly has much
more soul in it than "In the situation he then occupied."
However, it is doubtful whether <i>then</i>, as an adjective, will
ever again find favor with careful writers.</p>
<p><b>Thence.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Whence">Whence</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Think for.</b> We not unfrequently hear a superfluous
<i>for</i> tacked to a sentence; thus, "You will find that he
knows more about the affair than you think <i>for</i>."</p>
<p><b>Those kind.</b> "<i>Those</i> kind of apples <i>are</i> best": read,
"<i>That</i> kind of apples <i>is</i> best." It is truly remarkable that
many persons who can justly lay claim to the possession
of considerable culture use this barbarous combination. It
would be just as correct to say, "Those flock of geese," or
"Those drove of cattle," as to say, "Those <i>sort</i> or <i>kind</i> of
people."</p>
<p><b>Those who.</b> This phrase, applied in a restrictive sense,
is the modern substitute for the ancient idiom <i>they that</i>, an
idiom in accordance with the true meaning of <i>that</i>.</p>
<p>"'<i>They that</i> told me the story said'; 'Blessed are
<i>they that</i> mourn'; 'and Simon and <i>they that</i> were with
him'; 'I love <i>them that</i> love me, and <i>they that</i> seek me
early shall find me'; '<i>they that</i> are whole have no need of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></SPAN></span>
a physician'; 'how sweet is the rest of <i>them that</i> labor!'
'I can not tell who to compare them to so fitly as to <i>them
that</i> pick pockets in the presence of the judge'; '<i>they that</i>
enter into the state of marriage cast a die of the greatest
contingency' (J. Taylor).</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'<i>That</i> man hath perfect blessedness<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Who</i> walketh not astray,'<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>if expressed according to the old idiom would be, '<i>the</i> man
hath—<i>that</i> walketh.'</p>
<p>"'That' and 'those,' as demonstrative adjectives, refer
backward, and are not therefore well suited for the forward
reference implied in making use of 'that which' and 'those
who' as restrictive relatives. It is also very cumbrous to
say '<i>that</i> case <i>to which</i> you allude' for 'the case (<i>that</i>) you
allude <i>to</i>.'</p>
<p>"Take now the following: 'The Duke of Wellington
is not one of <i>those who</i> interfere with matters <i>over which</i>
he has no control': 'the Duke is not one of <i>them that</i> interfere
in matters <i>that</i> they have no control <i>over</i> (matters
<i>that</i> they can not control, <i>beyond their control</i>, <i>out of their
province</i>).' If 'them that' sounds too antiquated, we may
adopt as a convenient compromise, 'the Duke is not one
of <i>those that</i>'; or, 'the Duke is not one to <i>interfere</i> in matters
out of his province'; 'the duke is not one <i>that interferes</i>
with <i>what</i> he has no control <i>over</i>.'"—Bain.</p>
<p><b>Threadbare Quotations.</b> Among the things that are
in bad taste in speaking and writing, the use of threadbare
quotations and expressions is in the front rank. Some of
these <i>usés et cassés</i> old-timers are the following: "Their
name is legion"; "hosts of friends"; "the upper ten";
"Variety is the spice of life"; "Distance lends enchantment
to the view"; "A thing of beauty is a joy for ever";
"the light fantastic toe"; "own the soft impeachment";<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></SPAN></span>
"fair women and brave men"; "revelry by night"; "A
rose by any other name would smell as sweet."</p>
<p><b>To.</b> It is a well-established rule of grammar that <i>to</i>,
the sign of the infinitive mood, should not be used for the
infinitive itself: thus, "He has not done it, nor is he likely
<i>to</i>." It should be, "nor is he likely <i>to do it</i>."</p>
<p>We often find <i>to</i>, when the sign of the infinitive, separated
by an adverb from the verb to which it belongs.
Professor A. P. Peabody says that no standard English
writer makes this mistake, and that, so far as he knows, it
occurs frequently with but one respectable American writer.</p>
<p>Very often <i>to</i> is used instead of <i>at</i>; thus, "I have been
<i>to</i> the theatre, <i>to</i> church, <i>to</i> my uncle's, <i>to</i> a concert," and so
on. In all these cases, the preposition to use is clearly <i>at</i>,
and not <i>to</i>. See, also, <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#And">And</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>To the Fore.</b> An old idiomatic phrase, now freely
used again.</p>
<p><b>Tongue.</b> "Much <i>tongue</i> and much judgment seldom
go together."—L'Estrange. See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Language">Language</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Toward.</b> Those who profess to know about such
things say that etymology furnishes no pretext for the adding
of <i>s</i> to <i>ward</i> in such words as <i>backward</i>, <i>forward</i>, <i>toward</i>,
<i>upward</i>, <i>onward</i>, <i>downward</i>, <i>afterward</i>, <i>heavenward</i>,
<i>earthward</i>, and the like.</p>
<p><b>Transferred Epithet.</b> This is the shifting of a qualifying
word from its proper subject to some allied subject.
Examples:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"The little fields made green<br/></span>
<span class="i0">By husbandry of many <i>thrifty years</i>."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"He plods his <i>weary way</i>." "Hence to your <i>idle bed</i>!"
By this figure the diction is rendered more terse and vigorous;
it is much used in verse. For the sake of conciseness,
it is used in prose in such phrases as the <i>lunatic asylum</i>,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></SPAN></span>
the <i>criminal court</i>, the <i>condemned cell</i>, the <i>blind asylum</i>,
the <i>cholera hospital</i>, the <i>foundling asylum</i>, and the like.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Still in harmonious intercourse they lived<br/></span>
<span class="i0">The rural day, and talked the flowing heart."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"There be some who, with everything to make them
happy, plod their discontented and melancholy way through
life, less grateful than the dog that licks the hand that
feeds it."</p>
<p><b>Transpire.</b> This is one of the most frequently misused
words in the language. Its primary meaning is to
evaporate insensibly through the pores, but in this sense it
is not used; in this sense we use its twin sister <i>per</i>spire.
<i>Transpire</i> is now properly used in the sense of to escape
from secrecy, to become known, to leak out; and improperly
used in the sense of to occur, to happen, to come to
pass, and to elapse. The word is correctly used thus:
"You will not let a word concerning the matter <i>transpire</i>";
"It <i>transpires</i> [leaks out] that S. & B. control the enterprise";
"Soon after the funeral it <i>transpired</i> [became
known] that the dead woman was alive"; "It has <i>transpired</i>
[leaked out] that the movement originated with John
Blank"; "No report of the proceedings was allowed to
<i>transpire</i>"; "It has not yet <i>transpired</i> who the candidate
is to be." The word is incorrectly used thus: "The Mexican
war <i>transpired</i> in 1847"; "The drill will <i>transpire</i>
under shelter"; "The accident <i>transpired</i> one day last
week"; "Years will <i>transpire</i> before it will be finished";
"More than a century <i>transpired</i> before it was revisited by
civilized man."</p>
<p><b>Trifling Minutiæ.</b> The meaning of <i>trifles</i> and of <i>minutiæ</i>
is so nearly the same that no one probably ever uses
the phrase <i>trifling minutiæ</i> except from thoughtlessness.</p>
<p><b>Trustworthy.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Reliable">Reliable</SPAN></span>.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Try.</b> This word is often improperly used for <i>make</i>.
We <i>make</i> experiments, not <i>try</i> them, which is as incorrect
as it would be to say, <i>try</i> the <i>attempt</i>, or the <i>trial</i>.</p>
<p><b>Ugly.</b> In England, this word is restricted to meaning
ill-favored; with us it is often used—and not without authority—in
the sense of ill-tempered, vicious, unmanageable.</p>
<p><b>Unbeknown.</b> This word is no longer used except by
the unschooled.</p>
<p><b>Underhanded.</b> This word, though found in the dictionaries,
is a vulgarism, and as such is to be avoided.
The proper word is <i>underhand</i>. An <i>underhand</i>, not an
<i>underhanded</i>, proceeding.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Universal" id="Universal"></SPAN>Universal—All.</b> "He is <i>universally</i> esteemed by <i>all</i>
who know him." If he is <i>universally</i> esteemed, he must
be esteemed by <i>all</i> who know him; and, if he is esteemed
by <i>all</i> who know him, he must be <i>universally</i> esteemed.</p>
<p><b>Upward of.</b> This phrase is often used, if not improperly,
at least inelegantly, for <i>more than</i>; thus, "I have
been here for <i>upward of</i> a year"; "For <i>upward of</i> three
quarters of a century she has," etc., meaning, for <i>more than</i>
three quarters of a century.</p>
<p><b>Utter.</b> This verb is often misused for <i>say</i>, <i>express</i>.
To <i>utter</i> means to <i>speak</i>, to <i>pronounce</i>; and its derivative
<i>utterance</i> means the act, manner, or power of uttering,
vocal expression; as, "the utterance of articulate
sounds." We <i>utter</i> a cry; <i>express</i> a thought or sentiment;
<i>speak</i> our mind; and, though prayers are <i>said</i>, they may be
<i>uttered</i> in a certain tone or manner. "Mr. Blank is right
in all he <i>utters</i>": read, <i>says</i>. "The court <i>uttered</i> a sentiment
that all will applaud": read, <i>expressed</i> a sentiment.</p>
<p>The primary meaning of the adjective <i>utter</i> is outer,
on the outside; but it is no longer used in this sense. It is
now used in the sense of complete, total, perfect, mere,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></SPAN></span>
entire; but he who uses it indiscriminately as a synonym
of these words will frequently utter <i>utter</i> nonsense—i. e., he
will utter that which is without the pale of sense. For
example, we can not say <i>utter</i> concord, but we can say <i>utter</i>
discord—i. e., without the pale of concord.</p>
<p><b>Valuable.</b> The following sentence, which recently appeared
in one of the more fastidious of our morning papers,
is offered as an example of extreme slipshodness in the use
of language: "Sea captains are among the most <i>valuable</i>
contributors to the Park aviary." What the writer probably
meant to say is, "Sea captains are among those whose
contributions to the Park aviary are the most valuable."</p>
<p><b>Vast.</b> This word is often met with in forcible-feeble
diction, where it is used instead of <i>great</i> or <i>large</i> to qualify
such words as number, majority, multitude, and the like.
Big words and expletives should be used only where they
are really needed; where they are not really needed, they
go wide of the object aimed at. The sportsman that hunts
small game with buck-shot comes home empty-handed.</p>
<p><b>Veracity.</b> The loss would be a small one if we were
to lose this word and its derivatives. Truth and its derivatives
would supply all our needs. In the phrase so often
heard, "A man of truth and veracity," <i>veracity</i> is entirely
superfluous, it having precisely the same meaning as truth.
The phrase, "A big, large man," is equally good diction.</p>
<p><b>Verbiage.</b> An unnecessary profusion of words is called
<i>verbiage</i>: verbosity, wordiness.</p>
<p>"I thought what I read of it <i>verbiage</i>."—Johnson.</p>
<p>Sometimes a better name than verbiage for wordiness
would be <i>emptiness</i>. Witness: "Clearness may be developed
and cultivated in three ways, (<i>a</i>) By constantly practicing
in heart and life the thoughts and ways of honesty and
frankness." The first sentence evidently means, "Clearness<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></SPAN></span>
may be <i>attained</i> in three ways"; but what the second
sentence means—if it means anything—is more than I can
tell. Professor L. T. Townsend, "Art of Speech," vol. i,
p. 130, adds: "This may be regarded as the surest path to
greater transparency of style." The transparency of Dr.
Townsend's style is peculiar. Also, p. 144, we find: "The
laws and rules<span class="fnanchor">1</span> thus far laid down<span class="fnanchor">2</span> furnish ample foundation
for<span class="fnanchor">3</span> the general statement that an easy and natural<span class="fnanchor">4</span>
expression, an exact verbal incarnation of one's thinking,<span class="fnanchor">5</span>
together with the power of using appropriate figures, and
of making nice discriminations between approximate synonyms,<span class="fnanchor">6</span>
each being an important factor in correct style, are
attained in two ways.<span class="fnanchor">7</span> (1) Through moral<span class="fnanchor">8</span> and mental
discipline. (2) Through continuous and intimate<span class="fnanchor">9</span> acquaintance
with such authors as best exemplify those attainments."<span class="fnanchor">10</span></p>
<p>1. Would not <i>laws</i> cover the whole ground? 2. <i>En
passant</i> I would remark that Dr. Townsend did not make
these laws, though he so intimates. 3. I suggest the word
<i>justify</i> in place of these four. 4. What is natural is easy;
<i>easy</i>, therefore, is superfluous. 5. If this means anything,
it does not mean more than the adjective <i>clear</i> would express,
if properly used in the sentence. 6. <i>Approximate</i>
synonyms!! Who ever heard of any antagonistic or even
of dissimilar synonyms? 7. The transparency of this sentence
is not unlike the transparency of corrugated glass.
8. What has morality to do with correctness? 9. An intimate
acquaintance would suffice for most people. 10.
Those attainments! What are they? Dr. Townsend's
corrugated style makes it hard to tell.</p>
<p>This paragraph is so badly conceived throughout that
it is well-nigh impossible to make head, middle, or tail of
it; still, if I am at all successful in guessing what Professor<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></SPAN></span>
Townsend wanted to say in it, then—when shorn of its
redundancy and high-flown emptiness—it will read somewhat
like this: "The laws thus far presented justify the
general statement that a clear and natural mode of expression—together
with that art of using appropriate figures
and that ability properly to discriminate between synonyms
which are necessary to correctness—is attained in
two ways. (1) By mental discipline. (2) By the study of
our best authors."</p>
<p>The following sentence is from a leading magazine: "If
we begin a system of interference, <i>regulating men's gains</i>,
bolstering here, <i>in order to strengthen this interest</i>, [and] repressing
<i>elsewhere</i> [there], in order to equalize wealth, we
shall do <i>an</i> [a] <i>immense</i> deal of mischief, and without bringing
about a more agreeable condition of things <i>than now</i>
[we] shall <i>simply</i> discourage enterprise, repress industry,
and check material growth <i>in all directions</i>." Read without
the eighteen words in italics and with the four inclosed.</p>
<p>"Nothing disgusts sooner than the empty pomp of language."</p>
<p><b>Vice.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Crime">Crime</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Vicinity" id="Vicinity"></SPAN>Vicinity.</b> This word is sometimes incorrectly used
without the possessive pronoun; thus, "Washington and
vicinity," instead of "Washington and <i>its</i> vicinity." The
primary meaning of <i>vicinity</i> is nearness, proximity. In
many of the cases in which vicinity is used, <i>neighborhood</i>
would be the better word, though <i>vicinity</i> is perhaps preferable
where it is a question of mere locality.</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Vocation" id="Vocation"></SPAN>Vocation—Avocation.</b> These words are frequently
confounded. A man's <i>vocation</i> is his profession, his calling,
his business; and his <i>avocations</i> are the things that
occupy him incidentally. Mademoiselle Bernhardt's <i>vocation</i>
is acting; her <i>avocations</i> are painting and sculpture.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></SPAN></span>
"The tracing of resemblances among the objects and events
of the world is a constant <i>avocation</i> of the human mind."</p>
<p><b>Vulgar.</b> By the many, this word is probably more
frequently used improperly than properly. As a noun, it
means the common people, the lower orders, the multitude,
the many; as an adjective, it means coarse, low,
unrefined, as "the <i>vulgar</i> people." The sense in which
it is misused is that of immodest, indecent. The wearing,
for example, of a gown too short at the top may be <i>indecent</i>,
but is not <i>vulgar</i>.</p>
<p><b>Was.</b> "He said he had come to the conclusion that
there <i>was</i> no God." "The greatest of Byron's works <i>was</i>
his whole work taken together."—Matthew Arnold. What
is true at all times should be expressed by using the verb
in the present tense. The sentences above should read <i>is</i>,
not <i>was</i>.</p>
<p><b>Wharf.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Dock">Dock</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>What.</b> "He would not believe but <i>what</i> I did it":
read, but <i>that</i>. "I do not doubt <i>but what</i> I shall go to
Boston to-morrow": read, doubt <i>that</i>. We say properly,
"I have nothing <i>but what</i> you see"; "You have brought
everything <i>but what</i> I wanted."</p>
<p><b><SPAN name="Whence" id="Whence"></SPAN>Whence.</b> As this adverb means—unaided—<i>from</i> what
place, source, or cause, it is, as Dr. Johnson styled it, "a
vicious mode of speech" to say <i>from whence</i>, Milton to the
contrary notwithstanding. Nor is there any more propriety
in the phrase <i>from thence</i>, as <i>thence</i> means—unaided—from
that place. "<i>Whence</i> do you come?" not "<i>From
whence</i> do you come?" Likewise, "He went <i>hence</i>," not
"<i>from hence</i>."</p>
<p><b>Whether.</b> This conjunction is often improperly repeated
in a sentence; thus, "I have not decided whether
I shall go to Boston or <i>whether I shall go</i> to Philadelphia."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></SPAN></span></p>
<p><b>Which.</b> This pronoun as an <i>interrogative</i> applies to
<i>persons</i> as well as to <i>things</i>; as a <i>relative</i>, it is now made
to refer to <i>things only</i>.</p>
<p>"<i>Which</i> is employed in coördinate sentences, where <i>it</i>,
or <i>they</i>, and a conjunction might answer the purpose; thus,
'At school I studied geometry, <i>which</i> (and it) I found
useful afterward.' Here the new clause is something independent
added to the previous clause, and not limiting
that clause in any way. So in the adjectival clause; as,
'He struck the poor dog, <i>which</i> (and it, or although it) had
never done him harm.' Such instances represent the most
accurate meaning of <i>which</i>. <i>Who</i> and <i>which</i> might be
termed the <span class="smcap">coördinating relatives</span>.</p>
<p>"<i>Which</i> is likewise used in <i>restrictive</i> clauses that limit
or explain the antecedent; as, 'The house <i>which</i> he built
still remains.' Here the clause introduced by <i>which</i> specifies,
or points out, the house that is the subject of the
statement, namely, by the circumstance that a certain person
built it. As remarked with regard to <i>who</i>, our most
idiomatic writers prefer <i>that</i> in this particular application,
and would say, 'The house <i>that</i> he built still remains.'"</p>
<p>"<i>Which</i> sometimes has a special reference attaching to
it, as the neuter relative: 'Cæsar crossed the Rubicon,
<i>which</i> was in effect a declaration of war.' The antecedent
in this instance is not <i>Rubicon</i>, but the entire clause.</p>
<p>"There is a peculiar usage where <i>which</i> may <i>seem</i> to
be still regularly used in reference to persons, as in 'John
is a soldier, <i>which</i> I should like to be,' that is, 'And I
should like <i>to be a soldier</i>.'" See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#That">That</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Who.</b> There are few persons, even among the most
cultivated, who do not make frequent mistakes in the use
of this pronoun. They say, "<i>Who</i> did you see?" "<i>Who</i>
did you meet?" "<i>Who</i> did he marry?" "<i>Who</i> did you<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></SPAN></span>
hear?" "<i>Who</i> did he know?" "<i>Who</i> are you writing
to?" "<i>Who</i> are you looking at?" In all these sentences
the interrogative pronoun is in the objective case, and
should be used in the objective form, which is <i>whom</i>, and
not <i>who</i>. To show that these sentences are not correct,
and are not defensible by supposing any ellipsis whatsoever,
we have only to put the questions in another form.
Take the first one, and, instead of "Who did you see?"
say, "Who saw you?" which, if correct, justifies us in saying,
"Who knew he," which is the equivalent of "Who did he
know?" But "Who saw you?" in this instance, is clearly
not correct, since it says directly the opposite of what is
intended.</p>
<p><i>Who</i> was little used as a relative till about the sixteenth
century. Bain says: "In modern use, more especially
in books, <i>who</i> is frequently employed to introduce a
clause intended to restrict, define, limit, or explain a noun
(or its equivalent); as, 'That is the man <i>who</i> spoke to us
yesterday.'"</p>
<p>"Here the clause introduced by <i>who</i> is necessary to
define or explain the antecedent <i>the man</i>; without it, we
do not know who <i>the man</i> is. Such relative clauses are
typical <i>adjective</i> clauses—i. e., they have the same effect as
adjectives in limiting nouns. This may be called the
<span class="smcap">restrictive</span> use of the relative.</p>
<p>"Now it will be found that the practice of our most
idiomatic writers and speakers is to prefer <i>that</i> to <i>who</i> in
this application.</p>
<p>"<i>Who</i> is properly used in such coördinate sentences
as, 'I met the watchman, <i>who</i> told me there had been a
fire.' Here the two clauses are distinct and independent;
in such a case, <i>and he</i> might be substituted for <i>who</i>.</p>
<p>"Another form of the same use is when the second<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></SPAN></span>
clause is of the kind termed adverbial, where we may resolve
<i>who</i> into a personal or demonstrative pronoun and
conjunction. 'Why should we consult Charles, <i>who</i> (<i>for
he</i>, <i>seeing that he</i>) knows nothing of the matter?'</p>
<p>"<i>Who</i> may be regarded as a modern objective form,
side by side with <i>whom</i>. For many good writers and
speakers say '<i>who</i> are you talking of?' '<i>who</i> does the garden
belong to?' '<i>who</i> is this for?' '<i>who</i> from?'" etc.</p>
<p>If this be true—if <i>who may</i> be regarded as a modern
objective form, side by side with <i>whom</i>—then, of course,
such expressions as "<i>Who</i> did you see?" "<i>Who</i> did you
meet?" "<i>Who</i> did he marry?" "<i>Who</i> were you with?"
"<i>Who</i> will you give it to?" and the like, are correct. That
they are used colloquially by well-nigh everybody, no one
will dispute; but that they are <i>correct</i>, few grammarians will
concede. See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#That">That</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Whole.</b> This word is sometimes most improperly used
for <i>all</i>; thus, "The <i>whole</i> Germans seem to be saturated
with the belief that they are really the greatest people on
earth, and that they would be universally recognized as
being the greatest, if they were not so exceeding modest."
"The whole Russians are inspired with the belief that their
mission is to conquer the world."—Alison.</p>
<p><b>Wholesome.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Healthy">Healthy</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>Whose.</b> Mr. George Washington Moon discountenances
the use of <i>whose</i> as the possessive of <i>which</i>. He
says, "The best writers, when speaking of inanimate objects,
use <i>of which</i> instead of <i>whose</i>." The correctness of
this statement is doubtful. The truth is, I think, that good
writers use that form for the possessive case of <i>which</i> that
in their judgment is, in each particular case, the more
euphonious, giving the preference, perhaps, to <i>of which</i>.
On this subject Dr. Campbell says: "The possessive of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></SPAN></span>
<i>who</i> is properly <i>whose</i>. The pronoun <i>which</i>, originally indeclinable,
had no possessive. This was supplied, in the
common periphrastic manner, by the help of the preposition
and the article. But, as this could not fail to enfeeble
the expression, when so much time was given to mere conjunctives,
all our best authors, both in prose and verse,
have now come regularly to adopt, in such cases, the possessive
of <i>who</i>, and thus have substituted one syllable in
the room of three, as in the example following: 'Philosophy,
<i>whose</i> end is to instruct us in the knowledge of nature,' for
'Philosophy, <i>the</i> end <i>of which</i> is to instruct us.' Some
grammarians remonstrate; but it ought to be remembered
that use, well established, must give law to grammar, and
not grammar to use."</p>
<p>Professor Bain says: "<i>Whose</i>, although the possessive
of <i>who</i>, and practically of <i>which</i>, is yet frequently employed
for the purpose of restriction: 'We are the more
likely to guard watchfully against those faults <i>whose</i> deformity
we have seen fully displayed in others.' This is
better than 'the deformity <i>of which</i> we have seen.' 'Propositions
of <i>whose</i> truth we have no certain knowledge.'—Locke."
Dr. Fitzedward Hall says that the use of <i>whose</i>
for <i>of which</i>, where the antecedent is not only irrational
but inanimate, has had the support of high authority for
several hundred years.</p>
<p><b>Widow Woman.</b> Since widows are always women,
why say a widow <i>woman</i>? It would be perfectly correct
to say a <i>widowed</i> woman.</p>
<p><b>Widowhood.</b> There is good authority for using this
word in speaking of men as well as of women.</p>
<p><b>Without.</b> This word is often improperly used instead
of <i>unless</i>; as, "You will never live to my age <i>without</i> you
keep yourself in breath and exercise"; "I shall not go<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></SPAN></span>
<i>without</i> my father consents": properly, <i>unless</i> my father
consents, or, <i>without</i> my father's consent.</p>
<p><b>Worst.</b> We should say <i>at the worst</i>, not <i>at worst</i>.</p>
<p><b>Wove.</b> The past participle of the verb <i>to weave</i> is
<i>woven</i>. "Where was this cloth <i>woven</i>?" not <i>wove</i>.</p>
<p><b>You are mistaken.</b> See <span class="smcap"><SPAN href="#Mistaken">Mistaken</SPAN></span>.</p>
<p><b>You was.</b> Good usage does, and it is to be hoped
always will, consider <i>you was</i> a gross vulgarism, certain
grammarians to the contrary notwithstanding. <i>You</i> is the
form of the pronoun in the second person plural, and must,
if we would speak correctly, be used with the corresponding
form of the verb. The argument that we use <i>you</i> in the
singular number is so nonsensical that it does not merit a
moment's consideration. It is a custom we have—and
have in common with other peoples—to speak to one another
in the second person plural, and that is all there is
of it. The Germans speak to one another in the <i>third</i> person
plural. The exact equivalent in German of our <i>How
are you?</i> is, <i>How are they?</i> Those who would say <i>you was</i>
should be consistent, and in like manner say <i>you has</i> and
<i>you does</i>.</p>
<p><b>Yours, &c.</b> The ignorant and obtuse not unfrequently
profess themselves at the bottom of their letters "Yours,
&c." And so forth! forth what? Few vulgarisms are equally
offensive, and none could be more so. In printing correspondence,
the newspapers often content themselves with
this short-hand way of intimating that the writer's name
was preceded by some one of the familiar forms of ending
letters; this an occasional dunderhead seems to think is
sufficient authority for writing himself, <i>Yours, &c.</i></p>
<p class="czerop3">THE END.</p>
<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></SPAN> If this is true in England, it is not true in America. Nowhere in
the United States is such "questionable grammar" as this frequently
heard in cultivated circles.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></SPAN> "It may be confidently affirmed that with good speakers, in the
case of negation, <i>not me</i> is the usual practice."—Bain. This, I confidently
affirm, is not true in America.—A. A.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></SPAN> Should be, <i>a text-book for his course</i>, and not, <i>for his course a
text-book</i>.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></SPAN> Mr. Gould criticises the Dean's <i>diction</i>, not his <i>style</i>.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></SPAN> Better, "to revise it."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></SPAN> "Is <i>to put them</i> in tabular form."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></SPAN> Bullions' "Grammar" was published in 1867.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></SPAN> "L. W. K., CLK., LL. D., EX. SCH., T. C., D. Of this reverend
gentleman's personality I know nothing. He does not say exactly
what he means; but what he means is, yet, unmistakable. The extract
given above is from 'Public Opinion,' January 20, 1866."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></SPAN> "The analysis, taken for granted in this quotation, of 'are being
thrown up' into 'are being' and 'thrown up' will be dealt with in
the sequel, and shown to be untenable."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></SPAN> "Vol. xlv, p. 504 (1837)."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></SPAN> "'The Life and Correspondence of the late Robert Southey,'
vol. i, p. 249."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></SPAN> "Vol. i, p. 338. 'A student who <i>is being crammed</i>'; 'that verb
is eternally <i>being declined</i>.'—'The Doctor,' pp. 38 and 40 (mono-tome
ed.)."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></SPAN> "In 'Put Yourself in his Place,' chapter x, he writes: 'She
basked in the present delight, and looked as if she <i>was being taken</i> to
heaven by an angel.'"</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></SPAN> "'Words,' etc., p. 340."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></SPAN> "Thomas Fuller writes: 'At his arrival, the last stake of the
Christians was <i>on losing</i>.'—'The Historie of the Holy Warre,' p. 218
(ed. 1647)."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></SPAN> "I express myself in this manner because I distinguish between <i>be</i>
and <i>exist</i>."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></SPAN> "Samuel Richardson writes: 'Jenny, who attends me here, has
more than once hinted to me that Miss Jervis loves to sit up late,
either reading or <i>being read to</i> by Anne, who, though she reads well,
is not fond of the task.'—'Sir Charles Grandison,' vol. iii, p. 46 (ed.
1754).</p>
<p>"The transition is very slight by which we pass from 'sits being
read to' to 'is being read to.'"</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></SPAN> "I am here indebted to the last edition of Dr. Worcester's 'Dictionary,'
preface, p. xxxix."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></SPAN> "'Words and their Uses,' p. 353."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></SPAN> "'<i>It is being</i> is simply equal to <i>it is</i>. And, in the supposed corresponding
Latin phrases, <i>ens factus est</i>, <i>ens ædificatus est</i> (the obsoleteness
of <i>ens</i> as a participle being granted), the monstrosity is not in
the use of <i>ens</i> with <i>factus</i>, but in that of <i>ens</i> with <i>est</i>. The absurdity
is, in Latin, just what it is in English, the use of <i>is</i> with <i>being</i>, the
making of the verb <i>to be</i> a complement to itself.'—<i>Ibid.</i>, pp. 354, 355.</p>
<p>"Apparently, Mr. White recognizes no more difference between <i>supplement</i>
and <i>complement</i> than he recognizes between <i>be</i> and <i>exist</i>.
See the extract I have made above, from p. 353."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></SPAN> "'But those things which, <i>being not now doing</i>, or having not yet
been done, have a natural aptitude to exist hereafter, may be properly
said to appertain to the future.'—Harris's 'Hermes,' book I, chap.
viii (p. 155, foot-note, ed. 1771). For Harris's <i>being not now doing</i>,
which is to translate <span title="mê ginomena">μὴ γινόμενα</span>, the modern school, if they pursued
uniformity with more of fidelity than of taste, would have to put <i>being
not now being done</i>. There is not much to choose between the two."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></SPAN> "'Words and their Uses,' p. 343."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></SPAN> The possessive construction here is, in my judgment, not imperatively
demanded. There is certainly no lack of authority for putting
the three substantives in the accusative. The possessive construction
seems to me, however, to be preferable.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></SPAN> "The use of the plural for the singular was established as early
the beginning of the fourteenth century."—Morris, p. 118, § 153.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></SPAN> "Some writers omit the comma in cases where the conjunction is
used. But, as the conjunction is generally employed in such cases for
emphasis, commas ought to be used; although, where the words are
very closely connected, or where they constitute a clause in the midst
of a long sentence, they may be omitted."—Bigelow's "Handbook of
Punctuation."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></SPAN> "This usage violates one of the fundamental principles of punctuation;
it indicates, very improperly, that the noun <i>man</i> is more
closely connected with <i>learned</i> than with the other adjectives. Analogy
and perspicuity require a comma after <i>learned</i>."—Quackenbos.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></SPAN> Many writers would omit the last two commas in this sentence.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></SPAN> The commas before and after <i>particularly</i> are hardly necessary.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></SPAN> The only exception to this rule is the occasional use of the colon
to separate two short sentences that are closely connected.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></SPAN> "Dr. Angus on the 'English Tongue,' art. 527."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></SPAN> "In the following passages, the indicative mood would be more suitable
than the subjunctive: 'If thou <i>be</i> the Son of God, command
that these stones be made bread'; 'if thou <i>be</i> the Son of God, come
down from the cross.' For, although the address was not sincere on the
part of the speakers, they really meant to make the supposition or to
grant that he was the Son of God; 'seeing that thou <i>art</i> the Son of
God.' Likewise in the following: 'Now if Christ <i>be</i> preached, that
He rose from the dead, how say some among you that there is no resurrection
from the dead?' The meaning is, 'Seeing now that Christ
<i>is</i> preached.' In the continuation, the conditional clauses are of a different
character, and 'be' is appropriate: 'But if there <i>be</i> no resurrection
from the dead, then is Christ not risen. And if Christ <i>be</i> not
risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain.' Again,
'If thou <i>bring</i> thy gift to the altar, and there remember<i>est</i>,' etc. Consistency
and correctness require 'remember.'"—Harrison on the "English
Language," p. 287.</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></SPAN> "So, in German, <i>wäre</i> for <i>würde sein</i>. 'Hätt' ich Schwingen,
hätt' ich Flügel, nach den Hügeln <i>zög</i>' ich hin,' for '<i>würde</i> ich
<i>ziehen</i>.'"</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></SPAN> "So, in German, <i>hätte</i> occurs for <i>würde haben</i>. 'Wäre er da
gewesen, so <i>hätten</i> wir ihn gesehen,' for 'so <i>würden</i> wir ihn gesehen
<i>haben</i>.' <i>Hätten</i> is still conditional, not indicative. In Latin, the
pluperfect <i>indicative</i> is occasionally used; which is explained as a
more vivid form."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></SPAN> "In <i>principal</i> clauses the inflection of the second person is always
retained: 'thou had<i>st</i>,' 'thou would<i>st</i>, should<i>st</i>,' etc. In the example,
the subordinate clause, although subjunctive, shows, 'had<i>st</i>.'
And this usage is exceedingly common."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></SPAN> To those who are not quite clear as to what transcendentalism is,
the following lucid definition will be welcome: "It is the spiritual cognoscence
of psychological irrefragability connected with concutient
ademption of incolumnient spirituality and etherealized contention of
subsultory concretion." Translated by a New York lawyer, it stands
thus: "Transcendentalism is two holes in a sand-bank: a storm
washes away the sand-bank without disturbing the holes."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></SPAN> "Cromwell—<i>than he</i> no man was more skilled in artifice; or,
Cromwell—no man was more skilled in artifice <i>than he</i> (was)."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></SPAN> "No devil sat higher than <i>he</i> sat, except Satan."</p>
</div>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></SPAN> "Speaking of Dryden, Hallam says, 'His "Essay on Dramatic
Poesy," published in 1668, was reprinted sixteen years afterward, and
it is curious to observe the changes which Dryden made in the expression.
Malone has carefully noted all these; they show both the care
the author took with his own style, and the change which was gradually
working in the English language. The Anglicism of terminating the
sentence with a preposition is rejected. Thus, "I can not think so
contemptibly of the age I live in," is exchanged for "the age in which
I live." "A deeper expression of belief than all the actor can persuade
us to," is altered, "can insinuate into us." And, though the old form
continued in use long after the time of Dryden, it has of late years been
reckoned inelegant, and proscribed in all cases, perhaps with an unnecessary
fastidiousness, to which I have not uniformly deferred, since
our language is of Teutonic structure, and the rules of Latin and French
grammar are not always to bind us.'</p>
<p>"The following examples, taken from Massinger's 'Grand Duke of
Florence,' will show what was the usage of the Elizabethan writers:—</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'For I must use the freedom I <i>was born with</i>.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'In that dumb rhetoric <i>which</i> you <i>make use of</i>.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i8">"'—— if I had been heir<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of all the globes and sceptres mankind <i>bows to</i>.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i7">"'—— the name of friend<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>Which</i> you are pleased to <i>grace me with</i>.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i4">"'—— wilfully ignorant in my opinion<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of what it did <i>invite him to</i>.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"'I look to her as on a princess<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>I dare not be ambitious of</i>.'<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i7">"'—— a duty<br/></span>
<span class="i0"><i>That I was born with</i>.'"<br/></span></div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_ORTHOEPIST" id="THE_ORTHOEPIST"></SPAN><big>THE ORTHOËPIST:</big></h2>
<p class="center"><i>A PRONOUNCING MANUAL</i>,<br/><br/>
<b>Containing about Three Thousand Five Hundred<br/>
Words, including a Considerable Number of<br/>
the Names of Foreign Authors, Artists, etc.,<br/>
that are often mispronounced.</b></p>
<h2>By ALFRED AYRES.</h2>
<hr class="thin" />
<h3>SELECTIONS FROM THE WORK.</h3>
<ul><li>ạb-dō´mẹn, <i>not</i> ăb´dọ-mĕn.</li>
<li>ạc-crṳe´, <i>not</i> -crū´.<ul>
<li><small><small>The orthoëpists agree that <i>u</i>, preceded by <i>r</i> in the same syllable,
generally becomes simply <i>oo</i>, as in <i>rude</i>, <i>rumor</i>, <i>rural</i>, <i>rule</i>,
<i>ruby</i>.</small></small></li></ul></li>
<li>ạl-lŏp´ạ-thy; ạl-lŏp´ạ-thĭst.</li>
<li>Ăr´ạ-bĭc, <i>not</i> Ạ-rā´bĭc.</li>
<li>Asia—ā´shẹ-ȧ, <i>not</i> ā´zhȧ.</li>
<li>ay, <i>or</i> aye (meaning <i>yes</i>)—ī.</li>
<li>aye (meaning <i>always</i>)—ā.</li>
<li>Bĭs´märck, <i>not</i> bĭz´-.
<ul><li><small><small>At the end of a syllable, <i>s</i>, in German, has invariably its sharp,
hissing sound.</small></small></li></ul></li>
<li>Cairo—in Egypt, kī´rō; in the United States, kā´rō.</li>
<li>Courbet—ko̤r´bā´.</li>
<li>dĕc´ạde, <i>not</i> dẹ-kād´.</li>
<li>dẹ-cō´roŭs.
<ul><li><small><small>The authority is small, and is becoming less, for saying
<i>dĕc´o-roŭs</i>, which is really as incorrect as it would be to say
<i>sŏn´o-roŭs</i>.</small></small></li></ul></li>
<li>dĕf´ị-cĭt, <i>not</i> dẹ-fĭç´it.</li>
<li>dịs̱-dāin´, <i>not</i> dis-.</li>
<li>dịs̱-hŏn´or, <i>not</i> dis-.</li>
<li>ĕc-ọ-nŏm´ị-cạl, <i>or</i> ē-cọ-nŏm´ị-cạl.
<ul><li><small><small>The first is the marking of a large majority of the orthoëpists.</small></small></li></ul></li>
<li>ẹ-nēr´vāte.
<ul><li><small><small>The only authority for saying <i>ĕn´er-vāte</i> is popular usage; all
the orthoëpists say <i>e-nẽr´vāte</i>.</small></small></li></ul></li>
<li>ĕp´ọc̵h, <i>not</i> ē´pŏc̵h.
<ul><li><small><small>The latter is a Websterian pronunciation, which is not even permitted
in the late editions.</small></small></li></ul></li>
<li>fĭn-ạn-ciēr´.
<ul><li><small><small>This much-used word is rarely pronounced correctly.</small></small></li></ul></li>
<li>Heī´nẹ, <i>not</i> hine.
<ul><li><small><small>Final <i>e</i> in German is never silent.</small></small></li></ul></li>
<li>honest—ŏn´est, <i>not</i> -ĭst, <i>nor</i> -ŭst.
<ul><li><small><small>"Hon<i>est</i>, hon<i>est</i> Iago," is preferable to "hon<i>ust</i>, hon<i>ust</i> Iago,"
some of our accidental Othellos to the contrary notwithstanding.</small></small></li></ul></li>
<li>ĭs̱´ọ-lāte, <i>or</i> ĭs´ọ-late, <i>not</i> ī´sọ-lāt.
<ul><li><small><small>The first marking is Walker's, Worcester's, and Smart's; the second,
Webster's.</small></small></li></ul></li>
</ul>
<hr class="thin" />
<p class="center"><b>One vol., 18mo, cloth. Price, $1.00.</b></p>
<hr class="thin" />
<p class="center">New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.</p>
<SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />