GRAMMAR.

Grammar is the art of speaking or writing any language with correctness and propriety; and the purpose of language is to communicate our thoughts.

Grammar, considered as an art, necessarily supposes the previous existence of language; and as its design is to teach any language to those who are ignorant of it, it must be adapted to the genius of that particular language of which it treats. A just method of grammar, therefore, without attempting any alterations in a language already introduced, furnishes certain observations called rules, to which the methods of speaking used in that language may be reduced; and this collection of rules is called the grammar of that particular language. For the greater distinctness with regard to these rules, grammarians have usually divided this subject into four distinct heads: Orthography, or the art of combining letters into syllables, and syllables into words; Etymology, or the art of deducing one word from another, and the various modifications by which the sense of any one word can be diversified consistently with its original meaning or its relation to the theme whence it is derived; Syntax, or what relates to the construction or due disposition of the words of a language into sentences or phrases; and Prosody, or that which treats of the quantities and accents of syllables, and the art of making verses.

But grammar, considered as a science, views language only as significant of thought. Neglecting particular and arbitrary modifications introduced tor the sake of beauty or elegance, it examines the analogy and relation between words and ideas; distinguishes between those particulars which are essential to language and those which are only accidental; and thus furnishes a certain standard, by which different languages may be compared, and their several ex cellencies or defects pointed out. This is what is called Philosophical or

UNIVERSAL GRAMMAR.

The origin of language is a subject which has employed much learned investigation, and about which there is still a diversity of opinion. The design of speech is to communicate to others the thoughts and perceptions of the mind of the speaker; but it is obvious, that between an internal idea and any external sound there is no natural relation; that the word ι ∕fre, for instance, might have denominated the substance which we call ice, and that the word ice might have signified fire. Some of the most acute feelings of man, as well as of every other animal, are indeed expressed by simple inarticulate sounds, which, as they tend to the preservation of the individual, or the continuance of the species, and invariably indicate either pain or pleasure, are universally understood; but these inarticulate and significant sounds are very few in number; and if they can with any propriety be said to constitute a natural and universal language, it is a language of which man as a mere sensitive being partakes in common with the other animals.

Man is endowed not only with sensation, but also with the faculty of reasoning; and simple inarticulate sounds are insufficient for expressing all the various modifications [7:10:639]of thought, for communicating to others a chain of argumentation, or even for distinguishing between the different sensations either of pain or of pleasure; a man scorched with fire or unexpectedly plunged amongst ice, might utter the cry naturally indicative of sudden and violent pain; the cry would be the same, or nearly the same, but the sensations of cold and heat are widely different. Articulation, by which those simple sounds are modified, and a particular meaning fixed to each modification, is therefore absolutely necessary to such a* being as man, and forms the language which distinguishes him from all other animals, and enables him to communicate with facility all that diversity of ideas with which his mind is stored, to make known his particular wants, and to distinguish with accuracy all his various sensations. Those sounds thus modified are called words ; and as words have confessedly no natural relation to the ideas and perceptions of which they are significant, the use of them must either have been the result of human sagacity, or have been suggested to the first man by the author of nature.

Whether language be of divine or human origin, is a question upon which, though it might perhaps be soon resolved, it is not necessary to enter here. Upon either supposition; the first language, compared with those which succeeded it, or even with itself as afterwards enlarged, must have been extremely narrow and rude. If it was of human contrivance, this will be readily granted; for what art was ever invented and brought to a state of perfection by illiterate savages ř If it was taught by God, which is at least the more probable supposition, we cannot imagine that it would be more comprehensive than the ideas of those for whose immediate use it was intended; that the first men should have been taught to express pains or pleasures which they never felt, or to utter sounds that should afterwards be significant of ideas which at the time of utterance had not occurred to the mind of the speaker. Man once taught the elements of language would be able of himself to improve and enlarge it as his future occasions required.

As all language is composed of significant words variously combined, a knowledge of them is necessary previous to our acquiring an adequate idea of language as constructed into sentences and phrases. But as it is by words that we express the various ideas which occur to the mind, it is necessary to examine how ideas themselves are suggested, before we can ascertain the various classes into which words may be distributed. It is the province of logic to trace our ideas from their origin, as well as to unfold the process of reasoning; but it is necessary at present to observe, that our earliest ideas are all ideas of sensation, excited by the impressions that are made upon our organs of sense by the various objects with which we are surrounded. Let us therefore suppose a reasonable being, devoid of every possible prepossession, placed upon this globe; and it is obvious that his attention would in the first place be directed to the various objects which he saw existing around him. These he would naturally endeavour to distinguish from one another; and if he were either learning or inventing a language, his first effort would be to give them names, by means of which the ideas of them might be recalled when the objects themselves should be absent. This is one copious source of words, and forms a natural class which must be common to every language, and which is distinguished by the name of nouns ; and as 1 these nouns are the names of the several substances which exist, they have likewise been called substantives.

It would likewise be early discovered that every one of these substances was endowed with certain qualities or attributes, to express which another class of words would be requisite, since it is only by their qualities that substances themselves can attract our attention. Thus, to be weighty, is a quality of matter; to think, is an attribute of man. Therefore in every language words have been invented to express the known qualities or attributes of the several objects which exist. These may all be comprehended under the general denomination of attributives.

Nouns and attributives must comprehend all that is essential to language;^[1. This is the doctrine of many writers on the theory of language; yet it is not easy to conceive mankind so far advanced in the art of abstraction as to view attributes by themselves independently of particular suhitam∙eι, and to give one general name to each attribute wheresoever it may be found, without having at the same time words expressive of affirmation, we never talk of any attribute, a colour for instance, without affirming something concerning it; as, either that it is bright or faint, or that it is the colour of some substance. It will be seen afterwards, that to denote affirmation is the proper office of what is called the substantive verb; as, “Milk is white.” That verb therefore appears to be as necessary to the communication of thought as any species of words whatsoever; and if we must range words under a few general classes, we should be inclined to say that nouns,'attributes, and affirmatives, comprehend all that is really essential to language. ] for every thing which exists, or of which we can form an idea, must be either a substance or the attribute of some substance; and therefore the two classes which we denominate substances and attributes must comprehend all the words that are necessary to communicate to the hearer the ideas which are present to the mind of the speaker. If any other words occur, they can only have been invented for the sake of dispatch, or introduced for the purposes of ease and ornament, to avoid tedious circumlocutions or disagreeable tautologies. There are indeed grammarians of great name, who have considered as essential to language an order of words, of which the use is to connect the nouns and attributes, and which are said to have no signification of themselves, but to become significant by relation. Hence all words which can possibly be invented are by these men divided into two general classes; those which are significant of themselves, and those which are not. Words significant of themselves are either expressive of the names of substances, and therefore called substantives ; or of attributes, and therefore called attributives. Words which are not significant of themselves must acquire a meaning either as defining or connecting others, and are therefore arranged under the two classes of definitives and connectives.

That in any language there can be words which of themselves have no signification, is a supposition which a man free from prejudice will not readily admit. For to what purpose, we ask, should they have been invented? As they are significant of no ideas, they cannot facilitate the communication of thought, and must therefore be only an incumbrance to the language in which they are found. But in answer to this it has been said, that these words, though devoid of signification themselves, acquire a sort of meaning when joined with others, and that they are as necessary to the structure of a sentence as mortar is to the structure of an edifice; for as stones cannot be arranged into a regular building without a cement to bind and connect them, so the original words significant of substances and attributes cannot be made to express all the variety of our ideas without being defined and connected by those words which of themselves signify nothing. It is wonderful that he who first suggested this simile did not perceive that it tends to overthrow the doctrine which it is meant to illustrate. For surely the cement is as much the matter of the building as the stones themselves are; it is equally solid and equally extended. By being united with the stones, it neither acquires nor loses any one of the qualities essential to matter; it neither communicates its own softness nor acquires their hardness. By this mode of reasoning, therefore, it [7:10:640]would appear that the words called definitives and connectives, so far from having of themselves no signification, are equally essential to language, and equally significant with those which are denominated substantives and attributives; and upon investigation it will be found that this is the truth. For whatever is meant by the definition or connection of the words which all men confess to be significant, that meaning must be the sense of the words of which the purpose is to define and connect; and as there can be no meaning where there are no ideas, every one of these definitives and connectives must be significant of some idea, although it may not always be easy or even possible to express that idea by another word.

These different modes of dividing the parts of speech we have just mentioned because they have been largely treated of by grammarians of high fame. But it does not appear to us that any man can feel himself much the wiser for having learned that all words are either substantives or attributives, definitives or connectives. The division of words into those which are significant of themselves, and those which are significant by relation, is absolute nonsense, and has been productive of much error and much mystery in some of the most celebrated treatises on grammar. It is indeed probable that any attempt to establish a different classification of the parts of speech from that which is commonly received, will be found of little utility either in practice or in speculation. As far as the former is concerned, the vulgar division seems sufficiently commodious; for every man who knows any thing, knows when he uses a noun and when a verb. With respect to the latter, not to mention that all the grammarians from Aristotle to Horne Tooke have differed on the subject, it should seem to be of more importance, after having ascertained with precision the nature of each species of words, to determine in what circumstances they differ than in what they agree.

In most languages, probably in all cultivated languages, grammarians distinguish the following parts of speech, viz. noun, pronoun, verb, participle, adverb, preposition, conjunction. The Latin and English grammarians admit the interjection among the parts of speech, although it is confessedly not necessary to the construction of the sentence, being only thrown in to express the affection of the speaker; and in the Greek and English tongues there is the article prefixed to nouns when they signify the common names of things, to point them out, and to show how far their signification extends. In the method of arrangement commonly followed in grammars, adjectives are classed with substantives, and both are denominated nouns. But it is certain that, when examined philosophically, an essential difference is discovered between the substantive and the adjective; and therefore some philologists of eminence, when treating of this subject, have given the following classification of words, which we shall adopt: The article, noun, pronoun, verb, participle, ADJECTIVE, ADVERB, PREPOSITION, CONJUNCTION, interjection. All these words are to be found in the English language, and therefore we shall examine each class, endeavour to ascertain its precise import, and show in what respects it differs from every other class. It is impossible to investigate the principles of grammar without confining the investigation in a great measure to some particular language from which the illustrations must be produced; and that we should prefer the English language for this purpose can excite no wonder, as it is a preference which is due to every tongue from those by whom it is spoken. The principles, however, which we shall here expound and elucidate, being in substance the same with those so clearly and ingeniously established by Dr John Hunter of St Andrews, in his oral prelections on philology, will be found to apply universally; and our inquiry, though principally illustrated from the English language, will be an inquiry into Philosophical and Universal Grammar.

I. Of the Noun or Substantive.

Nouns are all those words by which objects or substances are denominated, and which distinguish them from one another, without marking either quantity, quality, action, or relation. The substantive or noun is the name of the thing spoken of, and in Greek and Latin is called name ; for it is tn>μa in the one, and nomen in the other; and if in English we had called it the name rather than the noun, the appellation would perhaps have been more proper, as this last word, being used only in grammar, is more liable to be misunderstood than the other, which is in constant and familiar use. That nouns or the names of things must make a part of every language, and that they must have been the words first suggested to the human mind, will not be disputed. Men could not speak of themselves, or of any thing else, without having names for themselves and the various objects with which they are surrounded. Now, as all the objects which exist must be either in the same state in which they were produced by nature, or changed from their original state by art, or abstracted from substances by the powers of imagination, and conceived by the mind as having at least the capacity of being characterised by qualities; this naturally suggests a division of nouns into natural, as man, vegetable, tree; artificial, as house, ship, watch; and abstract, as whiteness, motion, temperance.

But the diversity of objects is so great, that had each individual a distinct and proper name, it would be impossible for the most tenacious memory, during the course of the longest life, to retain even the nouns of the narrowest language. It has therefore been found expedient, when a number of things resemble each other in some important particulars, to arrange them all under one species ; to which is given a name that belongs equally to the whole species, and to each individual comprehended under it. Thus the word man denotes a species of animals, and is equally applicable to every human being; the word horse denotes another species of animals, and is equally applicable to every individual of that species of quadrupeds ; but it cannot be applied to the species of men, or to any individual comprehended under that species. We find, however, that there are some qualities in which several species resemble each other; and therefore we refer them to a higher order called a genus, to which we give a name that is equally applicable to every species and every individual comprehended under it. Thus, men and horses and all living things on earth resemble each other in this respect, that they have life. We refer them therefore to the genus called animal ; and this word belongs to every species of animals, and to each individual animal. The same classification is made both of artificial and abstract substances; of each of which there are genera, species, and individuals. Thus, in natural substances, animal, vegetable, and fossil, denote genera ; man, horse, tree, metal, species; and Alexander, Bucephalus, oak, gold, individuals. In artificial substances, again, edifice is a genus ; house, church, tower, are species ; and the Vatican, St Paul’s, and the Tower of London, are individuals. Lastly, in abstract substances, motion and virtue arc genera ; flight and temperance are species ; the flight of Mahommed, and temperance in wine, are individuals. By arranging substances in this manner, and giving a name to each genus and species, the nouns necessary to any language are comparatively few and easily acquired; and when we meet with an object unknown to us, we have only to examine it with attention, and, comparing it with other objects, to refer it to the genus or species which it most nearly resembles. By this contrivance we supply the want of a proper name for the individual; and, as far as the resemblance is complete between it and the species to which it is referred, and of which we have given it the name, we may converse and reason about it without danger of error; [7:10:641]whereas had each individual in nature a distinct and proper name, words would be innumerable and incomprehensible; and to employ our labours in language would be as idle as that study of numberless written symbols which has been attributed to the Chinese·

Although nouns are thus adapted to express, not the individuals, but the genera or species into which substances are classed; yet, in speaking of these substances, whether natural, artificial, or abstract, all men must have occasion to mention sometimes one of a kind, and sometimes more than one. In every language, therefore, nouns must admit of some variation in their form, to denote unity and plurality ; and this variation is called number. Thus in the English language, when we speak of a single place of habitation, we call it a house; but if of more, we call them houses. In the first of these cases the noun is said to be in the singular, in the last case it is in the plural number. Greek nouns have also a dual number to express two individuals, as have likewise some Hebrew nouns; but this variation is evidently not essential to language; and it is perhaps doubtful whether it ought to be considered as an elegance or as a deformity.

But although number be a natural accident of nouns, it can only be considered as essential to those which denote genera or species. Thus we may have occasion to speak of one animal or of many animals, of one man or of many men; and therefore the nouns animal and man must be capable of expressing plurality as well as unity. But this is not the case with respect to the proper names of individuals; for we can only say Xenophon, Aristotle, Plato, in the singular ; as, were any one of these names to assume a plural form, it would cease to be the proper name of an individual, and become the common name of a species. Of this, indeed, we have some examples in every language. When a proper name is considered as a general appellative under which many others are arranged, it is then no longer the name of an individual, but of a species, and as such admits of a plural; as the Caesars, the Howards, the Pelhams, the Montagues ; but Socrates can never become plural, as long as we know of no more than one man of that name. The reason of all this will be obvious, if we consider that every genus may be found whole and entire in each of its species; for man, horse, and dog, are each of them an entire and complete animal; and every species may be found whole and entire in each of its individuals, Socrates, Plato, and Xenophon, being each of them completely and entirely a man. Hence it is, that every genus, though one, is multiplied into many ; and every species, though one, is also multiplied into many, by reference to those beings which are their subordinates; but as no individual has any such subordinates, it can never in strictness be considered as many ; and so, as well in nature as in name, is truly an individual which cannot admit of number.

Besides number, another characteristic, visible in substances, is that of sex. Every substance is either male or female, or both male and female, or neither the one nor the other. So that with respect to sexes and their nega- t i 0 . n ' a11 substances conceivable are comprehended under this fourfold consideration, which language would be very imperfect if it could not express. Now the existence of hermaphrodites being rare, if not doubtful, and language being framed to answer the ordinary occasions of life, no provision is made, in any of the tongues with which we are acquainted, for expressing, otherwise than by a name made on purpose, or by a periphrasis, duplicity of sex.

. it " regard to this great natural characteristic, grammarians have made only a threefold distinction of nouns: those which denote males are said to be of the masculine gender ; those which denote females, of the feminine ; and those which denote substances that admit not of sex, are said to be neuter, or of neither gender. All animals have sex, and therefore the names of all animals should have gender. But the sex of all is not equally obvious, nor equally worthy of attention. In those species which are most common, or of which the male and female are, by their size, form, colour, or other outward circumstances, eminently distinguished, the male is sometimes called by one name, which is masculine, and the female by a different name, which is feminine. Thus in English we say, husband, wife ; king, queen ; father, mother ; son, daughter, and so on. In others of similar distinction, the name of the male is applied to the female only by prefixing a syllable or by altering the termination; as man, woman ; lion, lioness ; emperor, empress, anciently emperess ; master, mistress, anciently masteress ; and so in other similar instances. When the sex of any animal is not obvious, or not material to be known, the same name, in some languages, is applied, without variation, to all the species, and that name is said to be of the common gender. Thus in Latin bos albus is a white ox, and bos alba a white cow. Diminutive insects, though they are doubtless male and female, seem to be considered in the English language as if they were really creeping tilings. No man, speaking of a worm, would say he creeps, but it creeps upon the ground. But although the origin of genders is thus clear and obvious, yet the English is the only language with which we are acquainted that deviates not, except in a very few instances, from the order of nature. Greek and Latin, and many of the modern tongues, have nouns, some masculine, some feminine, which denote substances where sex never had existence. Nay, some languages are so particularly defective in this respect, as to class every object, inanimate as well as animate, under either the masculine or the feminine gender, as they have no neuter gender for those which are of neither sex. This is the case with the Hebrew, French, Italian, and Spanish. But the English, strictly following the order of nature, puts every noun which denotes a male animal, and no other, in the masculine gender; every name of a female animal, in the feminine; and every animal whose sex is not obvious, or known, as well as every inanimate object whatsoever, in the neuter gender. And this gives our language an advantage above most others in the poetical and rhetorical style; for when nouns naturally neuter are converted into masculine and feminine, the personification is more distinctly and more forcibly marked. Some very learned and ingenious men have endeavoured, by w hat they call a more subtile kind of reasoning, to discern even in things without a sex a distant analogy to that natural distinction, and to account for the names ofinanimate substances being, in Greek and Latin, masculine and feminine. But such speculations arc wholly fanciful, and the principles upon which they proceed are overturned by an appeal to facts. Many of the substances that, in one language, have masculine names, have in others names that are feminine; which could not be the case were this matter regulated by reason or nature. Indeed, for this, as well as many other anomalies in language, no other reason can be assigned than that custom,

Quern penes arbitrium est, et jus, et norma, loquendi.

It has been already observed that most nouns are the names, not of individuals, but of whole classes of objects termed genera and species.^[2. here in i th⅛^i.Γ^^ asary ι ’ ° observe > that the words genus and species, and the phrases higher genus and lower species, are taken here n the logical sense; and not as the word, genus, species, order, class, are often employed by naturalist.. ] In classing a number of individuals under one species, we contemplate only those [7:10:642]qualities which appear to be important, and in which the several individuals are found to agree, abstracting the mind from the consideration of all those which appear to be less essential, and which in one individual may be such as have nothing exactly similar in any other individual upon earth. Thus, in classing the individuals which are comprehended under the species denominated horse, we pay no regard to their colour or their size; because experience teaches us that no particular colour or size is essential to that individual living creature, and that there are not perhaps upon earth two horses whose colour and size are exactly alike. But the qualities which in this process we take into view, are the general shape, the symmetry, and proportion of the parts; and in short, every thing which appears evidently essential to the life of the individual and the propagation of the race. All these qualities are strikingly similar in all the individuals which we call horses, and as strikingly dissimilar from the corresponding qualities of every other individual animal. The colour of a horse is often the same with that of an ox; but the shape of the one animal, the symmetry and proportion of his parts, are totally different from those of the other; nor could any man be led to class the two individuals under the same species. It is by a similar process that we ascend from one species to another, and through all the species to the highest genus. In each species or genus in the ascending series fewer particular qualities are attended to than were considered as essential to the genus or species immediately below it; and our conceptions become more and more general as the particular qualities which are the objects of them become fewer in number. The use of a general term, therefore, can recal to the mind only the common qualities of the class, the genus, or species, which it represents. But we have frequent occasion to speak of individual objects. In doing this, we annex to the general term certain words significant of particular qualities, which discriminate the object of which we speak from every other individual of the class to which it belongs, and of which the general term is the common name. For instance, in advertising a thief, we are obliged to mention his height, complexion, gait, and whatever may serve to distinguish him from all other men.

The process of the mind in rendering its conceptions particular, is indeed exactly the reverse of that by which it generalizes them. For, as in the process of generalization, it abstracts from the ideas of any number of species certain qualities in which they differ from each other, and of the remaining qualities in which they agree constitutes the first genus in the ascending series; so, when it wishes to make its conceptions more particular, it annexes to the idea of any genus those qualities or circumstances which were before abstracted from it; and the genus, with this annexation, constitutes the first species in the descending series. In like manner, when it wishes to descend from any species to an individual, it has only to annex to the idea of the species those particular qualities which discriminate the individual intended from the other individuals of the same kind.

This particularizing operation of the mind points out the manner of applying the general terms of language for the purpose of expressing particular ideas. For, as the min'd, to limit a general idea, connects that idea with the idea of some particular circumstance, so language, as we have already observed, in order to limit a general term, connects that term with the word denoting the particular circumstance. Thus, in order to particularize the idea of horse, the mind connects that general idea with the circumstance, suppose, of whiteness; and in order to particularize the word horse, language connects that word with the term white; and so in other instances. Annexation, therefore, or the connecting of general words or terms in language, fits it for expressing particular conceptions; and this must hold good alike in aD languages. But the methods of denoting this annexation are various in various tongues. In English and most modern languages we commonly use for this purpose little words, which we have chosen to style particles ; and in the Greek and Latin languages, the cases of nouns answer the same end.

Cases, therefore, though they are accidents of nouns not absolutely necessary, have been often considered as such; and they are certainly worthy of our examination, since there is perhaps no language in which some cases are not to be found, as indeed without them or their various powers no language could readily answer the purposes for which it was formed.

All the oblique cases of nouns, if we except the vocative, are merely marks of annexation; but as the connections or relations subsisting among objects are very various, some cases denote one kind of relation, and some another. We shall endeavour to investigate the connection which each case denotes, beginning with the genitive.

This is the most general of all the cases, and gives notice that some connection indeed subsists between two objects, but does not point out the particular kind of connection. That we must infer, not from our nature or termination of the genitive itself, but from our previous knowledge of the objects connected. That the genitive denotes merely relation in genera), might be proved by adducing innumerable examples, in which the relations expressed by this case are different; but we shall content ourselves with one observation, from which the truth of our opinion will appear beyond dispute. If an expression be used in which are connected by the genitive case, two words significant of objects between which a twofold relation may subsist, it will be found impossible, from the expression, to determine which of these two relations is the true one, which must be gathered wholly from the context. Thus, for example, from the phrase injuria regis, no man can know whether the injury mentioned be an injury suffered or an injury inflicted by the king; but if the genitive case notified any particular relation, no such ambiguity could exist. This case therefore gives notice, that two objects are somehow connected,^[3. The Greek grammarians seem to have been aware of the nature of this case when they called it <rw< i 71 ><«>,, or the general case; a name of which the Latin grammarians evidently mistook the meaning when they translated it caiuι genitivus, or the generative case, which is a name totally foreign to its nature. ] but it marks not the particular sort of connection. Hence it may be translated by our particle of, which will be seen afterwards to be of a signification equally general.

The dative and accusative cases appear to have nearly the same meaning; each of them denoting apposition, or the junction of one object with another. Thus, when any one says, Comparo Virgilium Homero, Homer and Virgil are conceived to be placed beside one another, in order to their being compared; and this sort of connection is denoted by the dative case. In like manner, when it is said latus humeros, breadth is conceived as joined to or connected in apposition with shoulders; and the expression may be translated “broad at the shoulders.”

This apposition of two objects may happen either without previous motion, or in consequence of it. In the foregoing instances no motion is presupposed; but if one say, Misit aliquos subsidio eorum, the apposition is there in consequence of motion. In like manner, when it is said Profectus est ∏omam, his apposition with Rome is conceived as the effect of his motion thither. From this idea of the [7:10:643]accusative, the reason is obvious why the object after the active verb is often put in that case; it is because the action is supposed to proceed from the agent to the patient. But the same thing happens with respect to the dative case, and for the same reason. Thus, Antonius l<es it Ciceronem, and Antonius nocuit Ciceroni, are expressions of the same import; in each the action of hurting is conceived as proceeding from Antony to Cicero; and this is finely illustrated by the passive form of such expressions, where the procedure above mentioned is expressly marked by the preposition ab, as Cicero nocetur, Cicero loeditur λb Antonio. It is therefore not true that the accusative is that case, at least the only case, which to an efficient nominative and a verb of action subjoins either the effect or the passive subject; nor is the dative the only case which is formed to express relations tending to itself. The only thing essential to these two cases is to denote the apposition or junction of one object with another; and this they do nearly, if not altogether, in the same manner, although from the custom of language they may not be indifferently subjoined to the same verb.

The Greek language has no ablative case; but in the Latin, where it is used, it denotes concomitancy, or that one tiling accompanies another. From this concomitancy we sometimes draw an inference, and sometimes not. For example, when it is said, Templum clamore petebant, clamour is represented as concomitant of their going to the temple; but here no inference is drawn. From the phrase palleo metu, although nothing more is expressed than that paleness is a concomitant of the fear, yet we instantly infer that it is also the effect of the fear. In most instances where the ablative is used, an inference is drawn, of which the foundation is some natural connection observed to subsist between the objects thus connected in language. When this inference is not meant to be drawn, the preposition is commonly added; as, interfectus est cum gladio, he was slain with a sword about him; interfectus est gladio, he was slain with a sword as the instrument of his death.

The remaining cases, which have not been noticed, are the nominative and the vocative. These are in most instances alike in termination, which makes it probable that they were originally one and the same case. The foundation of this conjecture will appear from considering the use to which each of these cases is applied. The nominative is employed to call up the idea of any object in the mind of the hearer. But when a man hears his own name mentioned, his attention is instantly roused, and he is naturally led to listen to what is to be said. Hence, when one man meant particularly to solicit the attention of another, he would naturally pronounce that other person’s name; and thus the nominative case would pass into a vocative, of which the use is always to solicit attention.^[4. The chief objection to this conjecture, that the nominative and vocative were originally the same case, is taken from the Latin tongue, in which the nouns of the second declension ending in tu terminate their vocative in c. But this is easily accounted for. The t in such words was often dropped, as appears from the scanning of old Latin poetry; when this was done, the u being short, would naturally in pronunciation pass into c, a like short vowel; and thus, in the vocative case, “would in time be written instead cfu ]

The Greek and Latin among the ancient, and the German among the modern languages, express different connections or relations of one thing with another by cases. In English this is done for the most part by prepositions; but the English being derived from the same origin as the German, that is, from the Teutonic, has at least one variation of the substantive to answer the same purpose. For instance, the relation of possession, or belonging, is often expressed by a different ending of the substantive, which may be well called a case. This case answers nearly to the genitive case in Latin; but as that is not a denomination significant of the nature of the case in any language, it may perhaps in English be more properly called the possessive case. Thus, God’s grace, anciently Godis grace, is the grace belonging to or in the possession of God; and may be likewise expressed by means of the preposition, as, the grace of God.

Although the word Godis is as evidently an inflexion of the noun God as the word Dei is an inflexion of Deus, there are grammarians who have denied that in English there is any true inflexion of the original noun, and who have said that the noun with the addition of that syllable which we consider as the sign of a case, ceases to be a noun, and becomes a definitive; a word which with them is devoid of signification. Thus, in the expression Alexander’s house, the word Alexander’s stands not as a noun, but as an article or definitive, serving to ascertain or point out the individuality of the house. But this is a palpable mistake. The word Alexanders serves not to point out the individuality of the house, but to show to whom the house belongs; and is therefore beyond dispute not an article, but a noun in the possessive case. Again, when we say St Peters at Rome and St Paul’s at London, the words St Peter's and St Paul’s are neither articles, nor, as has been absurdly imagined, the proper names of edifices, like the Rotunda or the Circus, but they are, in the possessive case, the names of the two apostles to whom the churches were dedicated, and to whom they are supposed to belong.

But that this, which we have called the possessive case, is really not so, must be evident, it is said, because there are certain circumstances in which it cannot be substituted for the noun with the preposition prefixed. Thus, though a man may say, I speak of Alexander, I write of Caesar, I think of Pompey, he cannot say, I speak Alexander’s, I write Caesar’s, or I think Pompey’s. This is indeed true, but it is nothing to the purpose. For though I may say Loquor de Alexandro, Scribo de Casare, Cogito de Pompeio, I cannot say, Loquor Alexandri, Scribo Casaris, or Cogito Pompeii ; and therefore all that can be jnferred from this argument is, that as the Latin genitive is not always of the same import with the preposition de, so the English possessive is not always of the same import with the preposition of. Upon the whole, then, we may conclude that English nouns admit of one inflexion; and that though cases are not so essential to nouns as gender and number, no language can be wholly without them or their various powers.

II. Of Articles or Definitives.

The intention of language is to communicate thought, or to express those ideas which are suggested to us by our senses external and internal. The ideas first suggested to us are those of pain and pleasure, and of the objects with which we are surrounded; and therefore the words first learned must be nouns, or the names of objects natural, artificial, and abstract. Every object about which the human mind can be conversant is strictly and properly speaking particular; for all things in naturĕ differ from one another in numberless respects, which, not to mention the idea of separate existence, so circumstance and individualize them, that no one thing can be said to be another. Now the use of language being to express our ideas or conceptions of these objects, it might naturally be expected that every object should be distinguished by a proper name. This would indeed be agreeable to the truth of things, but we have already seen that it is altogether impracticable. Objects[7:10:644] have therefore been classed into genera and species; and names given, not to each individual, but to each genus and species. By this contrivance of language, we are enabled to ascertain in some measure any individual that may occur, and of which we know not the proper name, only by referring it to the genus or species to which it belongs, and calling it by the general or specific name; but as there is frequent occasion to distinguish individuals of the same species from one another, it became necessary to fall upon some expedient to mark this distinction. In many languages general and specific terms are modified and restricted by three orders of words; the article, the adjective, and the oblique cases of nouns. The cases of nouns we have already considered; the adjective will employ our attention afterwards; at present our observations are confined to the article, a word so very necessary, that without it, or at least some equivalent invention, men could not employ nouns to any of the purposes of life, or indeed communicate their thoughts at all. As the business of articles is to enable us, upon occasion, to employ general terms to denote particular objects, they must be considered in combination with the general terms as merely substitutes for proper names. They have, however, been commonly called definitives; because they serve to define and ascertain any particular object so as to distinguish it from the other objects of the general class to which it belongs, and, of course, to denote its individuality. Of words framed for this purpose, whether they have by grammarians been termed articles or not, we know of no language that is wholly destitute. The nature of them may be explained as follows.

An object occurs with which, as an individual, we are totally unacquainted; it has a head and limbs, and appears to possess the powers of self-motion and sensation; we therefore refer it to its proper species, and call it a dog, a horse, a lion, or the like. If it belongs to none of the species with which we are acquainted, it cannot be called by any of their names; we then refer it to the genus, and call it an animal.

But this is not enough. The object at which we are looking, and which we want to distinguish, is not a speoies or a genus, but an individual. Of what kind? Known or unknown? Seen now for the first time, or seen before and now remembered? This is one of the instances in which we shall discover the use of the two articles a and the; for, in the case supposed, the article a respects our primary perception, and denotes an individual as unknown; whereas the respects our secondary perception, and denotes individuals as known. To explain this by an example: I see an object pass by which I never saw till now: What do I say? There goes a beggar with a long beard. The man departs and returns a week after: What do I then say? There goes the beggar with the long beard. Here the article only is changed; the rest remains unaltered. Yet mark the force of this apparently minute change. The individual once vague is now recognised as something known; and that merely by the efficacy of this latter article, which tacitly insinuates a kind of previous acquaintance, by referring a present perception to a like perception already past.

This is the explanation of the articles a and the as given by the learned Mr Harris, and thus far what he says on the subject is certainly just; but it is not true that the article the always insinuates a previous acquaintance, or refers a present perception to a like perception already past. I am in a room crowded with company, of which the greater part is to me totally unknown; I feel it difficult to breathe from the grossness of the enclosed atmosphere; and, looking towards the window, I see in it a person whom I never saw before. I instantly send my compliments to the gentleman in the window, and request that, if it be not inconvenient, he will have the goodness to let a little fresh air into the r∞m. Of this gentleman I have no previous acquaintance; my present perception of him is my primary perception, and yet it would have been extremely improper to send my compliments to a gentleman in the window. Again, there would be no impropriety in saying, “ A man whom I saw yesterday exhibiting a show to the rabble was this morning committed to jail charged with the crime of housebreaking.” Notwithstanding the authority, therefore, of Mr Harris, and his master Apollonius, we may venture to affirm, that it is not essential to the article a to respect a primary perception, or to the article the to indicate a pre-established acquaintance. Such may indeed be the manner in which these words are most frequently used; but we see that there are instances in which they may be used differently. What, then, it may be asked, is the import of each article, and in what respects do they differ?

We answer, that the articles a and the are both of them definitives, as, by being prefixed to the names of genera and species, they so circumscribe the latitude of those names as to make them for the most part denote individuals. A noun or substantive, without any article to limit it, is taken in its widest sense. Thus the word man means all mankind;

The proper study of mankind is man; where manhind and man may change places without making any alteration in the sense. But let either of the articles of which we are treating be prefixed to the word man, and that word is immediately reduced from the name of a whole genus to denote only a single individual; and instead of the noble truth which this line asserts, the poet will be made to say, that the proper study of mankind is not the common nature which is diffused through the whole human race, but the manners and caprices of one individual. Thus far therefore the two articles agree; but they differ in this, that though they both limit the specific name to some individual, the article a leaves the individual itself unascertained; whereas the article the ascertains the individual also, and can be prefixed to the specific name only when an individual is intended of which something may be predicated that distinguishes it from the other individuals of the species. Thus, if I say, a man is fit for treasons, my assertion may appear strange and vague; the sentence, however, is complete, and wants nothing to make it intelligible; but if I say, the man is fit for treasons, I speak nonsense; for as the article the shows that I mean some particular man, it will be impossible to discover my meaning till I complete the sentence, and predicate something of the individual intended to distinguish him from other individuals.

The man that hath not music in himself.... Is fit for treasons.

A man, therefore, means some one or other of the human race indefinitely; the man means, definitely, that particular man who is spoken of. The former is called the indefinite, the latter the definite, article.

The two articles differ likewise in this respect, that as the article a serves only to separate one individual object from the general class to which it belongs, it cannot be applied to plurals. It has indeed the same signification nearly with the numerical word one ; and in French and Italian the same word that denotes unity is also the article of which we now treat. But the essence of the article the being to define objects, by pointing them out as those of which something is affirmed or denied which is not affirmed or denied of the other objects of the same class, it is equally applicable to both numbers; for things may be predicated of one set of men, as well as of a single man, which cannot be predicated of other men. The use [7:10:645]and import of each article will appear from the following example: “Man was made for society, and ought to extend his good will to all men ; but a man will naturally entertain a more particular regard for the men with whom he has the most frequent intercourse, and enter into a still closer union with the man whose temper and disposition suit best with his own.”

We have said that the article a cannot be applied to plurals, because it denotes unity. But to this rule there is apparently a remarkable exception in the use of the adjectives few and many (the latter chiefly with the word great before it), which, though joined with plural substantives, yet admit of the singular article a : as, a few men, a great many men. The reason of this is manifest from the effect which the article has in these phrases. It means a small or a great number collectively taken, to which it gives the idea of a whole, that is, of unity. Thus likewise a hundred, a thousand, is one whole number, an aggregate of many collectively taken, and therefore still retains the article a, though joined as an adjective to a plural substantive; as, a hundred years. The exception therefore is only apparent; and we may affirm that the article a universally denotes unity.

The indefinite article is much less useful than the other; and therefore the Greek and Hebrew languages have it not, though they have both a definite article. In languages of which the nouns, adjectives, and verbs, have inflexion, no mistake can arise from the want of the indefinite article; because it can always be known by the terminations of the noun and the verb, and by the circumstances predicated of the noun, whether a whole species or one individual be intended. But this is not the case in English. In that language, the adjectives having no variation with respect to gender or number, and the tenses of the verbs being for the most part the same in both numbers, it might be often doubtful, had we not the indefinite article, whether the specific name was intended to express the whole species or only one individual. Thus, if we say in English, man was born sent from God, we must be understood to mean that the birth of every man is from God, because to the specific term the indefinite article is not prefixed. Yet the words, Eyire7o àmera×µswí m¢a Θ∣of∕, convey no such meaning to any person acquainted with the Greek language; as the word άτακτος, without any article, is restricted to an individual by its concord with the verb and the participle; and the sense of the passage is, a man was born, or existed, sent from God. But though the Greeks have no article corresponding to the article a, yet nothing can be more nearly related than their Ό to our the ; '0 ßcur/Xru¢, the king, T0 δωjor, the gift. In one respect, indeed, the Greek and English articles differ. The former is varied according to the gender and number of the noun with which it is associated, being i, masculine, ⅛, feminine, τ», neuter, and ai, ai, ra, in the plural number ; whereas the English article suffers no change, being invariably the before nouns of every gender and in both numbers. There are, however, some modern languages which, in imitation of the Greek, admit of a variation of their article which relates to gender; but this cannot be considered as essential to this species of words, and it may be questioned whether it be an improvement to the language. In tongues of which the nouns have no inflexion, it can only serve to perplex and confuse, as it always presents a particular idea of sex where in many cases it is not necessary.

The articles already mentioned are allowed to be strictly and properly such by every grammarian; but there are some words, such as this, that, any, some, all, other, &c. which are generally said to be sometimes articles and sometimes pronouns, according to the different modes of using them. That words should change their nature in this manner, so as to belong sometimes to one part of speech and sometimes to another, must appear very extraordinary; and if it were a fact, language would be a thing so equivocal, that all inquiries into its nature, upon principles of science and reason, would be vain. But we cannot perceive any such fluctuation in any word whatever; though we know it to be a general charge brought against words of almost every denomination, of which we have already seen one instance in the possessive case of nouns, and shall now see another in those words which are commonly called pronominal articles.

If it be true, as we acknowledge it to be, that the genuine pronoun always stands by itself, assuming the power of a noun, and supplying its place, then is it certain that the words this, that, any, some, <⅛c. can never be pronouns. We are indeed told, that when we say this is virtue, give me that, the words this and that are pronouns; but that when we say, this habit is virtue, that man defrauded me, then are they articles or definitives. This, however, is evidently a mistake occasioned by overlooking those abbreviations in construction which are frequent in every language, and which, on account of that very frequency, have perhaps escaped the attention of grammarians whose sagacity has been successfully employed on matters less obvious. When we say this is virtue, it is evident that we communicate no intelligence till we add a substantive to the word this, and declare what is virtue. The word this can therefore in no instance assume the power of a noun, since the noun to which it relates, though for the sake of dispatch it may be omitted in writing or conversation, must always be supplied by the mind of the reader or hearer, to make the sentence intelligible, or this itself of any importance. When we have viewed speech analysed, we may then consider it as compounded. And here, in the first place, we may contemplate that synthesis which by combining simple terms produces a truth; then by combining two truths produces a third; and thus others and others in continued demonstration, till we are led, as by a road, to the regions of science. Now this is that superior and most excellent synthesis which alone applies itself to our intellect or reason, and which to conduct according to rule constitutes the art of logic. After this we may turn to those inferior compositions which are productive of the pathetic, &c. Here, if any where, the word this may be thought to stand by itself, and to assume the power of a noun; but let any man complete the construction of each sentence, and he will perceive that this is no more than a definite article. Thus, we may contemplate that synthesis which by combining simple terms produces a truth; then by combining two truths produces a third truth; and thus other truths and other truths in continued demonstration, till we are led, as by a road, into the regions of science. Now this combination of truths is that superior and most excellent synthesis which alone applies itself to our intellect or reason, and which to conduct according to rule constitutes the art of logic. After we have contemplated this art, we may turn, &c.

The word that is generally considered as still more equivocal than this ; for it is said to be sometimes an article, sometimes a pronoun, and sometimes a conjunction. In the following extract it appears in all these capacities; and yet, upon resolving the passage into parts, and completing the construction, it will be souud to be invariably a definite article. “It is necessary to that perfection, of which our present state is capable, that the mind and body should both be kept in action; that neither the faculties of the one nor of the other be suffered to grow lax or torpid for want of use; but neither should health be purchased by voluntary submission to ignorance, nor should knowledge be cultivated at the expense of health; [7:10:646]for that muet enable it either tð give pleasure to its possessor, or assistance to others.” If this long sentence be resolved into its constituent parts, and the words be supplied which complete the construction, we shall see the import of the word that to be precisely the same in each clause. “The mind and body should both be kept in action; that action is necessary to that perfection of which our present state is capable; neither the faculties of the one nor of the other should be suffered to grow lax or torpid for want of use: the degree of action proper to prevent that laxness is necessary; but neither should health be purchased by voluntary submission to ignorance, nor should knowledge be cultivated at the expense of health; for that health must enable it either to give pleasure to its possessor, or assistance to others.” Again:

He that’s unskilful will not toss a ball.

A man unskilful (he is that) will not toss a ball. Here the word that, though substituted for what is called the relative pronoun, still preserves unchanged its definitive import; and in every instance, except where it may be used very improperly, it will be found to be neither more nor less than a definitive article.

It appears, then, that if the essence of an article be to define and ascertain, the words this and that, as well as any, some, all, &c. which are commonly called pronominal articles, are much more properly articles than any thing else, and as such should be considered in universal grammar. Thus, when we say, this picture I approve, but that I dislike, what do w e perform by the help of the words this and that, but bring down the common appellative to denote two individuals, the one as the more near, the other as the more distant? So when we say, some men are virtuous, but all men are mortal; what is the natural effect of this all and some, but to define that universality and that particularity which would remain indefinite were we to take them away? The same thing is evident in such sentences as, “some substances have sensation, others want it; choose any way of acting, and some men will find fault,” &c. For here some, other, and any serve all of them to define different parts of a given whole; some, to denote any indeterminate part; any, to denote any indefinite mode of action, no matter what; and other, to denote the remaining part, when a part has been assumed already.

We have ’ said that the article is a part of speech so very necessary, that without it, or some equivalent invention,^[5. As in the Persian and other eastern languages, in which the place of our indefinite article is supplied by a termination to those nouns which are meant to be particularized. ] mankind could not communicate their thoughts; and that of words falling under this description we know of no language which is wholly destitute. We are aware that these positions may be controverted; and that the Latin may be instanced as a language which, without articles, is not only capable of communicating the ordinary thoughts of the speaker to the mind of the hearer, but which, in the hands of Cicero, Virgil, and Lucretius, was made to serve all the purposes of the most profound philosopher, the most impassioned orator, and the most sublime poet. That the Latin has been made to serve all these purposes cannot be denied, although Lucretius and Cicero both complain, that on the subject of philosophy, where the use of articles is most conspicuous, it is a deficient language. But should we grant what cannot be demanded, that these two great men were unacquainted with the powers of their native tongue, our positions would still remain unshaken; for we deny that the Latin is wholly without articles. It has indeed no word of precisely the same import with our the or the Greek «; but the place of the indefinite article a might be always supplied, if necessary, with the numerical word unus. It may be so even in English; for we believe there is not a single instance where the words one man, one horse, one virtue, might not be substituted for the words a man, a horse, a virtue, without in the slightest degree altering the sense of the passage where such words occur. This substitution, however, can be but seldom or never necessary in the Latin tongue, of which the precision is much greater than that of the English would be without articles, because the oblique cases of the Latin nouns, and the inflexion of its verbs, will almost always enable the reader to determine whether an appellative represents a whole species or a single individual. The want of the definite article the seems to be a greater defect; yet there are few instances in which its place might not be supplied by this or by that without obscuring the sense; and the Latin tongue is by no means deficient of articles corresponding to these two. Let us substitute the words one and that for a and the in some of the foregoing examples, and we shall find, though the sound may be uncouth, the sense will remain. Thus, That man who hath not music in himself....

Is fit for treasons, conveys to the mind of the reader the very same sentiment which the poet expresses by the words the man that hath not music, &c. Again, Man was made for society, and ought to extend his good will to all men ; but one man will naturally entertain a more particular regard for those men with whom he has the most frequent intercourse, and enter into a closer union with that man whose temper and disposition suit best with his own. Now the words hie and ille being exactly of the same import with the words this and that, it follows, that wherever the place of the article the may in English be supplied by this or by that, it may in Latin be supplied by hie or by Me. This is the case with respect to Nathan’s reproof of David, where the definite article is indeed most emphatical. The original words might have been translated into English, “thou art that man,” as well as “thou art the man ;” and in Latin they may with the utmost propriety be rendered, “Tu es ille homo." Indeed the words hie and ille, and we might instance many more, though they are commonly called pronouns, are in truth nothing but definite articles. The is evidently ex«; and ille is most probably derived from the Hebrew word al, in the plural ale, which may be translated indifferently, either the or that. But, what proves beyond dispute that these words are not pronouns, but articles, is, that in no single instance will they be found to stand by themselves and assume the power of nouns. For the sake of dispatch, or to avoid disagreeable repetitions, the noun may indeed be often omitted; but it is always supplied by the reader or hearer, when hie and ille appear in their proper place, and are seen to be invariably definitive articles. We shall give an example of the use of each word, and dismiss the subject in the first oration against Catiline, Cicero begins with addressing himself in a very impassioned style to the traitor, who was present in the senate-house. He then exclaims pathetically against the manners of the age, and proceeds in these words: Senatus h<εc inteUigit, consul videt, Hic tamen vivit. Vivit ĩ immo vero etiam in senatum venit; fit publici consilii particeps. In this passage hic cannot be a pronoun; for from the beginning of the oration there occurs not a single noun of which it can possibly supply the place. When the orator uttered it, he was probably pointing with his finger at Catiline, and every [7:10:647]one of his audience would supply the noun in his own mind, as we do when we translate it, “yet this traitor lives.” When Virgil says, lUe ego, qui quondam gracili modulatus avena

Carmen, it is obvious that he means, I am that man, or that poet, who sung, &c.; and though we may translate the words “I am he who tuned his song,” yet when we construe the passage we are under the necessity of supplying either vates or vir, which shows that tile is nothing more than a definite article signifying that oτ the. It appears, then, that the Latin tongue is not wholly destitute of articles, as few cases can occur where the Greek i and our the may not be supplied by the words hie and ille, which have in our opinion been very improperly termed pronouns. If there be any such cases, we can only confess that the Latin language is defective; whereas, had it no articles, it is not easy to conceive how it could answer, to a cultivated people, the ordinary purposes of speech.

The articles this and that, unlike a and the, are varied according as the noun, with which they are associated, is in the singular or in the plural number. Thus we say, this and that man in the singular, and these and those men in the plural. The Latin articles hie and ille, for such we will call them, are varied, like the Greek », not only with the number, but also with the gender of their nouns. In languages where the structure of a sentence may be so changed from the order of nature, as it commonly is in Greek and Latin, and where the reader is guided, not by the position, but by the terminations of the words, to those which are in concord and those which are not, these variations of the articles have their use; but in English they are of no importance. Were it not that the custom of the language, the forma loquendi as Horace calls it, has determined otherwise, there would be no more impropriety in saying this or that men, than in saying some men or the

As articles are by their nature definitives, it follows of course that they cannot be united with such words as are in their own nature as definite as they may be, nor with such words as, being undefinable, cannot properly be made otherwise; but only with those words which, though indefinite, are yet capable through the article of becoming definite. Hence the reason why it is absurd to say, the I or the thou, because nothing, as will be seen afterwards, can make these pronouns more definite than they are of themselves; and the same may be said of proper names. Neither can we say, the both, because the word both is in its own nature perfectly defined. Thus if it be said, “I have read both poets,” this plainly indicates a definite pair, of whom some mention has been made already. On the contrary, if it be said, “I have read two poets,” this may mean any pair out of all that ever existed. And hence the numeral being in this sense indefinite, as indeed are all others as well as itself, is forced to assume the article whenever it would become definite. Hence also it is that as two, when taken alone, has reference to some primary and indefinite perception, whilst the article the has reference to some perception secondary and definite, it is bad language to say two the men, as this would be blending of incompatibles, that is, it would be representing two men as defined and undefined at the same time. On the contrary, to say, both the men, is good language; because the substantive cannot possibly be less apt, by being defined, to coalesce with a numeral adjective which is defined as well as itself. So likewise it is correct to say, the two men, these two men, or those two men·, because here the article, being placed at the beginning, extends its power as well through the numeral adjective as the substantive, and tends equally to define thern both.

As some cf the above words admit of no article because they are by nature as definite as may be, so there are others which admit it not because they are not to be defined at all. of this sort are all interrogatives. If we question about substances, we cannot say, the who is this, but who is this ? And the same both as to qualities and quantities; for we say, without an article, what sort of, how many, how great ? The reason is, the article the respects beings of which we can predicate something; but interrogatives respect beings about which we are ignorant, and of which we can therefore predicate nothing; for as to what we know, interrogation is superfluous. In a word, the natural associates of articles are all those common appellatives which denote the several genera and species of beings; and it may be questioned whether in strictness of speech they are ever associated with any other words.

We have said that proper names admit not of the article, being in their own nature definite. This is true, whilst each name is confined to one individual; but as different persons often go by the same name, it is necessary to distinguish these from one another, to prevent the ambiguity which this identity of name would otherwise occasion. For this purpose we are obliged to have recourse to adjectives or epithets. For example, there were two Grecian chiefs who bore the name of Ajax; and it was not without reason that Mnestheus used epithets when his intention was to distinguish the one from the other. “If both Ajaxes cannot be spared,” said he, “at least let mighty Telamonian Ajax come.” But as epithets are diffused through various subjects, in as much as the same adjective may be referred to many substantives, it has been said to be necessary, in order to render both parts of speech equally definite, that the adjective itself assume an article before it, which may indicate a reference to some single person only. It is thus we say, Trypho the Grammarian, Apollodorus the Cyrenian, &c. This is the doctrine of Mr Harris, from which, with the highest respect for the learning of the author, we feel ourselves obliged to dissent. In the examples given, the article the is certainly not associated with the words Grammarian and Cyrenian, in the same manner in which it is associated with the word man in the sentence, “The man that hath not music in himself.” When we say Apollodorus the Cyrenian, we may, without folly or impertinence, be asked, the Cyrenian what î And the moment this question is answered, it will be seen that the article defines, not an adjective, but a substantive. If the answer be, the Cyrenian philosopher, the article the is associated with the word philosopher, and the phrase Apollodorus the Cyrenian is an abbreviation of Apollodorus the philosopher of Cyrene. In like manner, Trypho the grammarian, is Trypho the grammarian writer, or Trypho the writer of grammar. Such abbreviations are very common. We say familiarly the Speaker, and are understood to mean a high officer in the British parliament; yet as speaker is a name common to many men, we may without impropriety be asked, what speaker we mean; and if so, we must reply, the Speaker of the House of Commons. But that which is eminent is supposed to be generally known; and therefore, in common language, the speaker is deemed a sufficient designation of him who presides over the lower house of parliament. Hence, by an easy transition, the definite article, from denoting reference, comes to denote eminence also; that is to say, from implying an ordinary preacquaintance, to presume a kind of general and universal notoriety. Thus a king is any king, but the king is that person whom we acknowledge as our sovereign, the king of Great Britain. In Greek, too, as in English, the article is often a mark of eminence; for íAE Poet meant Homer, and the Stagyrite meant Aristotle; not but that there were many poets besides Homer, and many stagyrites besides Aristotle, but none equally illustrious.
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Before we dismiss the Article, we shall produce one example to show the utility of this species of words; which, although they may seem to be of small importance, yet, when properly applied, serve to make a few general terms sufficient for expressing with accuracy all the various objects about which mankind can have occasion to converse. Let man be the general term, which I have occasion to employ for the purpose of denoting some particular. Let it be required to express this particular as unknown, I say a man; known, I say the man; definite, a certain man; indefinite, any man; present and near, this man; present and at some distance, that man; like to some other, such a man; different from some other, another man; an indefinite multitude, many men; a definite multitude, a thousand men; the ones of a multitude taken throughout, every man; the same ones taken with distinction, each man; taken in order, first man, second man, &c.; the whole multitude of particulars taken collectively, all men; the negation of that multitude, no man; a number of particulars present and near, these men; at some distance, or opposed to others, those men; a number of individuals separated from another number, other men; a small indefinite number, few men; a proportionally greater number, more men; a smaller number, fewer men. And so we might proceed on almost to infinitude. But not to dwell longer upon this subject, we shall only remark, that minute changes in principles lead to mighty changes in effects; so that principles are well entitled to regard, however trivial they may appear.

III.— Of Pronouns, or Substantives of the second order.

To men who are neither intoxicated with their own abilities, nor ambitious of the honour of building new systems, little pleasure can accrue from differing upon points of science from writers of great and deserved reputation. In such circumstances a man of modesty, although he will not upon the authority of a celebrated name adopt an opinion of which he perceives not the truth, must always advance his own notions with some degree of diffidence, as being conscious that the truth which he cannot perceive, may be visible to a keener and more perspicacious eye. In these circumstances we feel ourselves with regard to some of the most celebrated writers on grammar, from whom, concerning one or two points, comparatively indeed of but little importance, we have already been compelled reluctantly to differ. In treating of pronouns we are likely to deviate still farther from the beaten track; but that we may not be accused of acting the part of dogmatists in literature, and of claiming from others that implicit confidence which we refuse to give, we shall state with fairness the commonly received opinions, point out in what respects we think them erroneous, assign our reasons for calling them in question, and leave our readers to judge for themselves. The most celebrated writer in English who has treated of pronouns, and whom, since the publication of his Hermes, most other writers have implicitly followed, is Mr Harris, who, after a short introduction, proceeds thus :—

“All conversation passes between individuals, who will often happen to be till that instant unacquainted with each other. What, then, is to be done? How shall the speaker address the other, when he knows not his name? or how explain himself by his own name, of which the other is wholly ignorant? Nouns, as they have been described, cannot answer this purpose. The first expedient upon this occasion seems to have been pointing, or indicating by the finger or hand; some traces of which are still to be observed, as a part of that action which naturally attends our speaking. But the authors of language were not content with this. They invented a race of words to supply this pointing; which words, as they always stood for substantives or nouns, were characterized by the name of pronouns. These also they distinguished into three several sorts, calling them pronouns of the first, the second, and the third person, with a view to certain distinctions, which may be explained as follows :—

“Suppose the parties conversing to be wholly unacquainted, neither name nor countenance on either side known, and the subject of the conversation to be the speaker himself. Here, to supply the place of pointing by a word of equal power, the inventors of language furnished the speaker with the pronoun I; I write, 1 say, I desire, &c.; and as the speaker is always principal with respect to his own discourse, this they called, for that reason, the pronoun of the first person.

“Again, suppose the subject of the conversation to be the party addressed. Here, for similar reasons, they invented the pronoun thou; thou writest, thou walkest, &c. And as the party addressed is next in dignity to the speaker, or at least comes next with reference to the discourse, this pronoun they therefore called the pronoun of the second person.

“Lastly, suppose the subject of conversation neither the speaker nor the party addressed, but some third object different from both. Here they provided another pronoun, he, she, or it ; which, in distinction to the two former, was called the pronoun of the third person. And thus it was that pronouns came to be distinguished by their respective persons."

The description of the different persons here given is taken, we are told, from Priscian, who took it from Apollonius. But whatever be the deference due to these ancient masters, their learned pupil, though guided by them, seems not to have hit upon the true and distinguishing characteristic of the personal pronouns. He supposes, that when the names of two persons conversing together are known to each other, they may, by the use of these names, express all that the personal pronouns express; but this is certainly not true. To us, at least, there appears to be a very material difference between saying “George did this,” and “I did this nor do we think that the power of the pronoun would be completely supplied by the name, even with the additional aid of indication by the hand. So, when one man says to another with whom he is conversing, “James did so and so it is surely not equivalent to his saying “You did so and so.” If such were the case, one might pertinently ask, when both persons are known to each other, Why do they use the personal pronouns? Mr Harris tells us, that “when the subject of conversation is the speaker himself, he uses 1; and when it is the party addressed, he uses thou." But, in fact, the nature of the personal pronouns has no sort of connection with the subject of conversation, whether that conversation relate to the speaker, the party addressed, or a Greek book. In this sentence, “I say that the three angles of every triangle are equal to two right angles,” the speaker is surely not the subject of the discourse; nor is the party addressed, but the truth of his assertion, the subject of discourse in the following sentence: “You say, that Horne Tooke’s Diversions of Purley is the most masterly treatise on grammar, as far as it goes, that you have ever seen.” Mr Harris uses the phrase “becoming the subject of conversation,” in no other sense than that when the speaker has occasion to mention himself, he uses I; when the party addressed, thou ; and when some other person or thing, he, she, or it. But we know that he may use other words by no means equivalent to the two first of these pronouns, which will sufficiently mark himself, and the party addressed; and that he may use indifferently, and without the smallest injury to the sense, either the third pronoun, or the word for [7:10:649]which it is merely a substitute. A man who sustains various characters may design himself by any one of them. Thus Mr Pitt might have spoken of himself as the firsl lord of the treasury, chancellor of the exchequer, or member for the university of Cambridge; and in each case he would have been what Mr Harris calls the subject of conversation; yet every one feels that none of these designations would have been equivalent to I. What, then, is the force of the personal pronouns?

It appears to be simply this: The first denotes the speaker, as characterised by the present act of speaking, in contradistinction to every other character which he may bear. The second denotes the party addressed, as characterised by the present circumstance of being addressed, in contradistinction to every other character. And what is called the pronoun of the third person is merely a negation of the other two, as the neuter gender is a negation of the masculine and feminine. If this account of the personal pronouns be true, and we flatter ourselves that its truth will be obvious to every body, there is but one way of expressing by other words the force of the pronouns of the first and second person. Thus, “The person who now speaks to you did so and so,” is equivalent to “Zdid so and so and “The person to whom I now address myself did so and so,” is equivalent to “ You did so and so.”

Hence we see why it is improper to say the I or the thou ; for each of these pronouns has of itself the force of a noun with the definite article prefixed, and denotes a person of whom something is predicted, which distinguishes him from all other persons. I is the person who now speaks, thou is the person who is now addressed by the speaker. Hence too we see the reason why the pronoun Zis said to be of the first, and the pronoun thou of the second person. These pronouns can have place only in conversation, or when a man, in the character of a public speaker, addressee himself to an audience; but it is obvious that there must be a speaker before there can be a hearer; and therefore, that the pronouns may follow the order of nature, I, which denotes the person of the speaker, must take place of thou, which denotes the person of the hearer. Now the speaker and the hearer being the only persons engaged in conversation or declamation, I is with great propriety called the pronoun of the first, and thou the pronoun of the second person. We have said, that with respect to pronouns, the third person, as it is called, is merely a negative of the other two. This is evident from the slightest attention to the import of those Words which are called pronouns of the third person. He, s∕ιe, or it, denotes not the person either of the speaker or of the hearer; and, as we have just observed, no other person can have a share in conversation or declamation. An absent person or an absent thing may be the subject of conversation, but cannot be the speaker or the person addressed. He, site, and it, however, as they stand by themselves, and assume the power of nouns, are very properly denominated pronouns; but they are not personal pronouns in any other sense than as the negation of sex is the neuter gender.

We have already seen that nouns admit of number; pronouns, which are their substitutes, likewise admit of number, shere may be many speakers at once of the same sentiment, as well as one, who, including himself, speaks the sentiment of many, speech may likewise be addressed to many at a time, as well as to one; and the subject of the discourse may likewise be many. The pronoun, therefore, of every one of the persons must admit of number to express this singularity or plurality. Hence the pronoun of the first person I, has the plural we; that of the second person thou, has the plural ye or you ; and that of the third person he, she, or it, has the plural they, which is equally applied to all the three genders.

The Greeks and Romans, when addressing one person, used the pronoun in the singular number thou ; whereas in the polite, and even in the familiar style, we, and many other modern nations, use the plural you. Although in this case we apply you to a single person, yet the verb must agree with it in the plural number; it must necessarily be, you have, not you hast. You was, the second person plural of the pronoun placed in agreement with the first or third person singular of the verb, is an enormous, though common solecism, which ought to be carefully avoided. In very solemn style, as when we address the Supreme Being, we use thou, perhaps to indicate that he is God alone, and that there is none like unto him; and we sometimes use the same form of the pronoun in contemptuous or very familiar language, to intimate that the person to whom we speak is the meanest of human beings, or the dearest and most familiar of our friends. A king, exerting his authority on a solemn occasion, adopts the plural of the first person, “we strictly command and charge ;” meaning, that he acts by the advice of counsellors, or rather as the representative of a whole people. But in all cases in which the use of the pronoun deviates from the nature of things, the verb in concord deviates with it; for, as will be seen afterwards, these two words universally agree in number and person.

But though all these pronouns have number, neither in Greek, Latin, or any modern language, do those of the first and second person carry the distinctions of sex. The reason is obvious,^[6. would have hwn ^ larris and h⅛ followers is, that “the speaker and hearer being generally present to each other, it sides.” This is n√-rhans th» .* lave ma rked a distinction by art, which from nature and even dress was commonly apparent on both sneaker and hearer mav moot ∖f ea 1 0n , whic * 1 their description of the personal pronouns admits, but it is not satisfactory; for the ∙∣>caker and hearer may meet in the dark, when different dresses cannot be distinguished. ] namely, that sex, and all other properties and attributes whatever, except those mentioned above as descriptive of the nature of these pronouns, are foreign from the intention of the speaker, who, when he uses the pronoun I, means the person who now speaks, no matter whether man or woman; and when the pronoun thou, the person, no matter whether man or woman, to whom he now addresses himself, and nothing more. But the pronoun of the third person denoting neither the speaker nor the hearer, but the subject of the discourse, and being merely the substitute of a noun which may be either masculine, feminine, or neuter, must of necessity agree with the noun which it represents, and admit of a triple distinction significant of gender. In English, which allows its adjectives no genders, this pronoun is he in the masculine, she in the feminine, and it in the neuter; the utility of which distinction may be. better found in supposing it away. Suppose, for example, that we should in history read these words, He caused him to destroy him, and were informed that the pronoun, which is here thrice repeated, stood each time for something different; that is to say, for a man, for a woman, and for a city, whose names were Alexander, Thais, and Persepolis. Taking the pronoun in this manner, divested of its gender, how would it appear which was destroyed, which the destroyer, and which the cause that moved to the destruction? But there is no ambiguity, when we hear the genders distinguished: when we are told with the proper distinctions, that she caused him to destroy it, we know with certainty that the prompter was the woman; that her instrument was the hero; and that the subject of their cruelty was the unfortunate city, prom this example we would be surprised how the Italians, French, and Spaniards could [7:10:650]express themeelves with precision or elegance with no more than two variations of this pronoun.

Although in every language with which we are acquainted, there is but one pronoun for each of the first and second persons; and although it is obvious, from the nature, and import of those words, that no more can be necessary; yet the mere English reader may perhaps be puzzled with finding three distinct words applied to each; I, mine, and me, for the first person; thou, thine, and thee, for the second. The learned reader will see at once that the words mine and me, thine and thee, are equivalent to the genitive and accusative cases of the Latin pronouns of the first and second persons. That mine is a pronoun in the possessive case is obvious; for if I were asked “whose book is that before me ?” I should reply, “It is mine," ^[7. If we mistake not, Dr Johnson has somewhere affected to ridicule Bishop Lowth for considering the word mine as the possessive case of the pronoun of the first person. According to the doctor, mine is the same word with the pronominal adjective my; and was anciently used before a vowel, as my was before a consonant. This is not said with the lexicorapher’s usual precision. That mine was anciently used before a vowel is certain; but it does not therefore follow that it is the same word with my. If it were, we might on every occasion substitute either of these for the other, without offending against grammar, however we might injure the sound; but we apprehend that this is not the case. “That book is mine,” is good £nglish; but “that book is my” would be a gross solecism. The reason is, that mine is a genuine pronoun, and stands by itself with the power of a noun; but my, being an adjective, cannot stand by itsel£ ] meaning that it belongs to me. That the word me is the same pronoun in the case which the Latin grammarians call the accusative, is evident from the import of that word in the sentence he admires me, where the admiration is supposed to proceed from the person spoken of to the person who speaks. It appears, therefore, that though English nouns have only two cases, the nominative and possessive, the pronouns of that language have three, as, I, mine, me ; thou, thine, thee ; he, his, him, &c.; and that these are cases, can be questioned by no man who admits that met, mihi, me, are cases of the Latin pronoun ego. Both pronouns, the Latin and the English, are irregularly inflected; and perhaps those words which are called the oblique cases of each may have originally been derived from nominatives different from ego and I; but these nominatives are now lost, and mei and mine have, beyond all dispute, the effect of the genitives of the Latin and English pronouns of the first person. These variations, however, cannot be looked upon as an essential part of language, but only as a particular refinement, invented to prevent the disagreeable repetition of the pronoun, which must frequently have happened without such a contrivance. This seems to have been the only reason why pronouns have been endowed with a greater variety of cases than nouns. Nouns are in themselves greatly diversified. Every genus and every species of objects has a distinct name, and therefore the sameness of sound does not so often occur among them as it would among the pronouns, without cases, where the same I, thou, he, she, or it, answers for every object which occurs in nature; but by this diversity in the form of the words, the caco-ρhonia, which would be otherwise disgusting, is in a great measure avoided. It is, probably, for the same reason that the plural of each of these pronouns is so very different from the singular. Thus from I, mine, me, in the singular, is formed, in the plural, we, ours, us ; from thou, thine, and thee, ye or you, yours, you; and from he, she, it, his, hers, its, him, her, it, in the singular, they, theirs, them, in the plural. In all of which there is not the least resemblance between the singular and plural of any one word; and except in he, his, him} it, its; they, theirs, them; there is not any similarity between the different cases of the same word in the same number.

From the account here given of the personal pronouns, it appears that the first or second will, either of them, coalesce with the third, but not with each other. For ex ample, it is good sense, as well as good grammar, to say in any language, I am he, thou art he, toe were they, you were they ; but we cannot say, lam thou, nor thou art I, nor we are you, &c. The reason is, there is no absurdity for the speaker to be also the subject of the discourse, as when it is said, I am he; or for the person addressed, as when we say, thou art he. But for the same person, in the same circumstances, to be at once the speaker and the party addressed, is impossible; for which reason the coalescence of the pronouns of the first and second persons is likewise impossible.

I, thou, he, site, and it, are all that are usually called personal pronouns. There is another class of words, which are called sometimes pronominal adjectives, sometimes adjective pronouns, sometimes possessive pronouns; and by one writer of grammar they have been most absurdly termed pronominal articles. It is not worth while to dispute about a name; but the words in question are my, thy, her, our, your, their. These words are evidently in the form of adjectives; for, like other English adjectives, they have no variation to indicate either gender, number, or case; and yet they are put in concord with nouns of every gender and both numbers, as, my wife, my son, my book ; her husband, her sons, her daughters, &c. But though in the form of adjectives, they have the power of personal pronouns in the possessive case: my book is the book of me, or the book of him who now speaks ; our house is the house of us, or the house occupied by the persons who now speak ; her husband, is the husband of a woman who can be known only from something preceding in the discourse; and their property is the property of them, of any persons, whether men or women, or both, who have been previously mentioned. Words which have the form of adjectives, with the power of pronouns, may, without impropriety, be called pronominal adjectives; and such is the name by which we shall henceforth distinguish them. To these pronominal adjectives, as well as to' the personal pronouns, are subjoined the words own and self, and in the plural selves; in which case they are emphatica], and imply a silent contrariety or opposition. Thus, I lire in my own house ; that is, not in a hired house. This I did with my own hand ; that is, not by proxy. This was done by myself ; that is, not by another. The word self subjoined to a personal pronoun forms also the reciprocal pronoun; as, we hurt ourselves by vain rage ; he blamed himself for his misfortune. Himself, itself, themselves, are supposed by Wallis to be put, by corruption, for his self, its self, their selves ; so that self is always a substantive or noun, and not a pronoun. This seems to be a just observation; for we say, the man came himself, they went themselves ; where the words himself and themselves cannot be accusatives, but nominatives, and were anciently written his self, their selves.

There are other words which are usually ranked under the class of pronouns; as who, which, what. These, when employed in asking questions, are called interrogative pronouns; though a name more characteristic might surely be found for them. Their import, however, will be more easily ascertained after we have considered another species of pronouns, which have been denominated relatives, and with which they are intimately connected.

The pronouns already mentioned may be called prepositive, [7:10:651]as may indeed all substantives, because they are capable of introducing or leading a sentence: but there is another pronoun which has a character peculiar to itself, and which, as it is never employed but to connect sentences, and must therefore have always a reference to something preceding, is called the subjunctive or relative pronoun. This pronoun is in Greek, ⅛ į, ∙; in Latin, qui, qu<ε, quod ; and in English, who, which, what.

In order to determine with precision the nature and import of the relative pronoun, it will be necessary to ascertain the powers which it contains, or the parts of speech into which it is capable of being resolved. Now, it is obvious that there is not a single noun, or prepositive pronoun, which the relative is not capable of representing; for we say, I who saw him yesterday cannot be mistaken ; you who did not see him may have been misinformed: they who neither saw nor heard can know nothing of the matter ; the things which he exhibited were wonderful. From diese examples, it is apparent, in the first place, that the relative contains in itself the force of any other pronoun; but it contains something more.

If from any sentence in which there is a relative, that relative be taken away, and the prepositive pronoun which it represents be substituted in its stead, the sentence will lose its bond of union, and stand quite loose and unconnected. Thus, if instead of saying the man is wise who speaks little, we should say the man is wise he speaks little, the sentence would be resolved into two; and what is affirmed of the man’s wisdom, would have no connection with the circumstance of his speaking little. Hence it is evident, in die second place, that the relative contains the force of a connective as well as of the prepositive pronoun. What kind of connection it denotes is next to be ascertained.

It may be laid down as a general principle, that, by means of a relative pronoun, a clause of a sentence, in which there is a verb, is converted into the nature of an adjective, and made to denote some attribute of a substance, or some property or circumstance belonging to the antecedent noun. Thus, when it is said, homo qui prudentia proeditus est, the relative clause, qui prudentia prce-ditus est, expresses nothing more than the quality of prudence in concrete with the subject homo, which might have been equally well expressed by the adjective prudens. In like manner, when we say, vir sapit qui pauca loquitur, the relative fact expresses the property of speaking little as belonging to the man, and as being that quality which constitutes, or from which we infer, his wisdom; but if there were such a word as pauciloquens, that quality might very properly be expressed by it, and the phrase vir sapù pauciloquens would express the same assertion with vir sapit qui pauca loquitur.

Now if a relative clause expresses that which might be expressed by an adjective, the presumption is, that it may be resolved into the same constituent parts. But every adjective contains the powers of an abstract substantive, together with an expression of connection; and may be resolved into the genitive case of that substantive, or into the nominative with the particle of prefixed, which, in English, corresponds to the termination of the genitive in the ancient languages. That the member of a sentence in which there is a relative, may, in every instance, be analysed in the same manner, will be apparent from the following examples. Vir qui sapit, vir sapiens, and vir sapienti<e, “ a man who is wise, a wise man, and a man of wisdom,” are certainly phrases of the same import. Again, homo, cui ingratus est animus, malus fit amicus, may be translated into Greek, åtðļwnt inupertaq χαζό; y∣wra∕ φoj⅛ ; and Into English, “the man of ingratitude is a bad friend.”

Thus then it appears, that the relative pronoun contains in itself the force of the prepositive pronoun, together with that connection implied in English by the preposition of, and in the ancient languages by the genitive case. When one says, vir sapit qui pauca loquitur, the relative clause qui pauca loquitur expresses that attribute of the man from which his wisdom is inferred. It is conceived by the mind, as stripped of its propositional form, and standing in the place of a substantive noun governed in the genitive case by vir. The whole sentence might be thus translated, “the man of little speaking is wise ;” or, did the use of the English language admit of it, “the man of he speaks little is wise.” In like manner, when it is said, “Man, who is born of woman, is of few days and full of trouble,” the relative clause is equivalent to an abstract noun in the genitive case, and the whole might be expressed in the following manner: “Man of he is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble.”

It is obvious that these expressions into which, in the instances adduced, the relative clauses have been resolved, will appear extremely uncouth and offensive; but it is not meant to recommend them as common modes of phraseology. Against their being employed as such, present use loudly remonstrates.^[8. It is worthy ofrobservation, however, that, repugnant as such expressions are to the present idiom of the English language, there is nothing in the nature of the thing that couid render the use of them improper. All prepositions, as will be seen afterwards, are expressive of relations subsisting between those objects of which they connect the signs in discourse. Those objects may be denoted, either by single words, and then the preposition will govern a noun; or by assertions, and then it will govern a nominative and a verb. Thus, when it is said, “I came after his departure,” the preposition after expresses the relation between two events, my coming and hù departure, and governs a substantive noun; but if it is said, “I came after he departed,” the preposition in this case (for, as shall be shown afterwards, it is absurd to call it in the one instance a preposition, and in the other a conjunction) expresses the same relation as before, but governs a nominative and a verb. This last expression is exactly similar to those employed above, when one says, for example, “the man of he >peakι little is wise,” however uncouth the expression may appear from its not being supported by the authority of custom, the preposition of is used precisely in the same manner, and serves the very same purpose, as when it is said, “the man of little speaking is wise.” In both cases it denotes the relation between the two objects, man and little speaking ; only in the one it is prefixed to a noun, in the other to an assertive clause of a sentence, the import of which is to be taken as a noun. ^ Custom has indeed determined that prepositions shall more frequently govern a noun than a nominative and a verb; but they are, in their own nature, equally well adapted to answer both purposes. But as the pronoun of the third person is merely the substitute of some noun, an objector may ask, what noun is here represented by he ĩ “The man of he speaks little is Wise.” who is meant by the pronoun heĩ we answer, the man who is declared to be wire. The objection proceeds from inattention to the radical signification of the word of, which a late ingenious writer has shown to be the frag, ment of a Gothic or Anglo-8axon word, signifying consequence or offspring. If this be admitted, and, after the proofs which he has given, we think it cannot be denied, the uncouth phrase, “The man of he epeakt little is wise,” may be thus resolved, “The man, a consequence (of his mind is) he speaks little, is wise or, in other words. “The man, in consequence of his speaking little, is wise.” The same acute writer, Mr Horne Tooke, has shown that of and∕w, though of different radical meanings, may often be substituted the one for the other without injury to the sense. Let this substitution be made in the present instance, and the propriety of the phrase will be apparent: “The man is wise/or he speaks little.” It must be remembered, however, that such a substitution cannot be made in every instance, because Jor signifies cause, and of signifies consequence. ] They are introduced only with a view to show the true import of the relative pronoun; and [7:10:652]for that purpose they are well adapted. That pronoun seems to be of use only when there is a deficiency of ad- jectires or substantives to denote some complex attribute by which we want to limit a general term or expression. Where such adjectives or substantives exist in language, we may indeed use the relative or not at pleasure. Thus we may say, homo qui grandia loquitur, or homo grandiloquus ; because the adjective and the relative clause are precisely of the same meaning. But if the Latins were called upon to translate αv⅛ωroς aυτMaxroq, we believe they must have made use of the relative pronoun, as we know not any corresponding adjective in their language

The learned and ingenious Mr Harris, in his Treatise on Universal Grammar, has given an analysis of the relative pronoun very different from that which has been given by us. The result of his inquiry is, that the relative is equivalent to another pronoun, together with an expression of connection of that kind which is denoted by the particle and. This analysis he exemplifies, and endeavours to confirm, by the sentence, “Light is a body which moves with great celerity.” Now, says he, instead of which substitute the word and it, and in their united powers you see the force and character of the pronoun here treated. But let any one attentively consider these two expressions, “Light is a body which moves with great celerity,” and “Light is a body and it moves with great celerity and he will find that they are not precisely equivalent. For, to speak in the language of logic, there is in the first but one proposition, of which the subject is light, and the predicate a complex term expressed by the words, body which moves with great celerity. In the second there are two propositions, or two predications, concerning light; first, that it is a body; and, secondly, that it moves with great celerity. The relative clause, in the first case, expresses a property of the antecedent body, which, with that property, is predicated of the subject light; in the second case, this property is removed from the predicate of which it was an essential part, and is improperly converted into a new predication of the subject. The sentence may be resolved upon our principles, and its precise import preserved; as “Light is a body of it moves with great celerity the clause “it moves with great celerity,” is conceived by the mind as having the force of an abstract substantive, and is connected with the antecedent body by the preposition of, answering to the termination of the genitive case. This abstract substantive thus connected expresses a quality of the body light. But by this example Mr Harris’s doctrine is not exhibited in all its absurdity; it may be proper to try it by another.

Let us suppose that the following assertion is true; “Charles XII. was the only monarch who conquered kingdoms to bestow them on his friends.” Here it is evident there is but one proposition, of which the predicate is expressed by the words, “only monarch who conquered kingdoms to bestow them on his friends so that the relative clause is a necessary part of the predicate, and has, like an abstract noun in the genitive case, the effect of modifying the general term monarch. Resolve this sentence on Mr Harris’s principles, and you have two propositions of which the first is a notorious falsehood: “Charles XII. was the only monarch, and he conquered kingdoms to bestow them on his friends.” But instead of and substitute of, thus, “Charles XII. was the only monarch of he conquered kingdoms to bestow them on his friends,” and you preserve the true import of the expression.^[9. Mr Harris was probably led into iiis opinion, from considering the Latin ¢ni or quit as compounded of que and is (See Hermes, p. 81, 82, third edit.). But the notion of Perizonìus is perhaps better founded, who, in his notes to the Minerva of Sanctius, considers it as immediately taken from the Greek τ t, which in the Doric is ma<le ««, and in the Latin quit. For it seems highly probable, as some ingenious writers have endeavoured to show, that the Latin is a dialect of the Greek. Of this at least we may be certain, that many words in the former are immediately adopted from the latter. ] Are there no cases, then, in which the relative may be resolved into the connective and with a prepositive pronoun? Undoubtedly there are, and we shall now endeavour to ascertain them.

Adjectives in language have two different effects upon the substantives to which they belong, according to the nature of the attribute which they express. If the attribute expressed by the adjective be competent to all the species of which the substantive is the specific name, it is plain that the adjective does not modify or limit the substantive, for this obvious reason, that nothing can modify which is not discriminative. Thus, when Horace says, Prata canis albicant pruinis, the adjective canis denotes a quality common to all hoarfrost; and therefore cannot modify the substantive, because it adds nothing to the conception of which that substantive is the name. But when the attribute expressed by the adjective is competent to some individuals only of the species of which the substantive is the name, the adjective has then the effect of modifying or limiting the substantive. Thus when one says vir bonus, he makes use of an adjective which modifies the substantive, vir, because it expresses a Quality or attribute which does not belong to all men.

The clause of a sentence, in which there is a relative, as it is in every other respect, so is it in this, equivalent to an adjective; it either modifies, or does not modify, the antecedent, according as the attribute which it expresses is or is not characteristic of the species to which the antecedent belongs. Thus, when it is said, “Man, who is born of woman, is of few days and full of trouble,” the relative clause “who is born of woman,” expresses an attribute common to all men, and therefore cannot modify. In like manner, when we say, “Socrates, who taught moral philosophy, was virtuous," the clause, “who taught moral philosophy,” does not modify. In both these instances the relative clause might be omitted; and it might be said with equal truth, “Man is of few days and full of trouble,” and “Socrates was virtuous.”

But if it be said, vir sapit qui pauca loquitur, the relative clause, qui pauca loquitur, modifies the antecedent vir ; for it is not affirmed of every man that he is wise, but only of such men as speak little. So “Charles XII. was the only monarch who conquered kingdoms to bestow them on his friends and, “the man that endureth to the end shall be saved with many more examples that will occur to every reader.

Now it will be found that it is only when the relative clause expresses such a property or circumstance of the antecedent as does not limit its signification, that the relative pronoun can be resolved into a prepositive pronoun with the conjunction and, and that in these cases the relative clause itself is of very little importance. Thus in the assertion, “Charles XII. was the only monarch who conquered kingdoms to bestow them on his friends,” where the relative clause is restrictive, the who cannot be resolved into and he consistently with truth or common sense. But in the expression, “Man, who is born of woman, is of few days and full of trouble,” the relative who may be so resolved, at least without violating truth, thus, “man is of few days and full of trouble^ and he is born of a woman.” The only difference between the sentence with the relative who, and the same sentence thus resolved, is, that, in the former case, it contains but one predication; in the latter two, and these but loosely connected.

Thus, then, it appears that the general analysis of the [7:10:653]relative pronoun is into the particle of, and a prepositive pronoun; but that there are also occasions on which it may be resolved into a prepositive pronoun and the particle and, without materially altering the sense. Now, what is the reason of this distinction?

If the relative clause be equivalent to an adjective, or to an abstract substantive in the genitive case, it is easy to see that the relative itself may, in every instance, be resolved into another pronoun and the particle of; but it will not perhaps be quite so evident how it should in any instance be resolved by and. This last analysis has its foundation in the nature of the particles of and and ; or, to speak more properly, in the nature of the attribute which the relative clause expresses. Both the particles of and and are used to link or join conceptions together; but with this difference, that of has the effect of making the conceptions it connects figure in the mind as one object; whereas the conceptions connected by and are still conceived separately as before. To explain ourselves by an example: suppose we take two words, man and virtue, which denote two distinct ideas or conceptions, and join them together by the particle of, saying man of virtue ; the mind no longer views them separately as significant of two conceptions, but of one. Take the same words, and join them together by the particle and, saying man and virtue ; the conceptions denoted by man and virtue are still viewed separately as two, and notice is only given that they are collaterally connected.

This being the case, it follows, that when the relative modifies the antecedent, or, in other words, when the relative clause and the antecedent denote but one conception, the relative must then be resolved by of, in order to preserve this unity of conception. But when the relative does not modify the antecedent; that is, when its clause does not express any necessary part of a complex conception, then the conceptions or ideas denoted by the relative clause and the antecedent may be viewed separately as two; and therefore the relative may be resolved into the corresponding prepositive pronoun and the particle and.

To state this reasoning in a light somewhat different. As every relative clause, which expresses an attribute that is not applicable to a whole genus or species, must necessarily modify some general term, that is, restrict its signification; and as that general term must belong either to the subject or to the predicate of a proposition; it is evident, that every such relative clause is a necessary part of that subject or predicate in which its antecedent stands. If therefore a relative clause, which modifies, be taken away either from the subject or the predicate of a proposition; or if that connection, in consequence of which it modifies, be dissolved, which is always done when the relative is resolved by and·, then the proposition itself will not hold true. The reason is, that the subject or the predicate becomes then too general; for, in the one case, something is predicated of a whole genus or species, which can be predicated only of some individuals of that genus or species; and in the other, a general predication is made where only a particular one can be applied. - Thus, if it be said, “all men who transgress the laws are deserving of punishment ;” the subject of the proposition is expressed by the words, “all men who transgress the laws.” Take away the clause of the relative “who transgress the laws,” and say, “all men are deserving of punishment and you have a proposition which is not true, because that is affirmed of the whole species which can be affirmed only of some individuals. Retaining now the clause of the relative, but resolving it by and, you have the same proposition as before; and together with it, in this instance, another which is equally false, namely, “all men, and they transgress the laws, are deserving of punishment ;” that is, “all men are deserving of punishment, and all men transgress the laws."

But when the attribute expressed by the clause of the relative is characteristic of the genus or species of the antecedent, and consequently applicable to every individual which that genus or species comprehends, the relative clause may be entirely omitted without affecting the truth of the proposition, which is already as general as it can be. As in this case the import of the relative clause is not restrictive of the signification of the antecedent, it is of little consequence whether the attribute be represented by the connective part of the relative, as of the antecedent, or be affirmed to belong to the antecedent in a separate assertion. Thus it matters not much, whether we say, “man, who is subject to death, ought not to be too much elated,” that is, according to our analysis, “man of he is subject to death, ought not to be too much elated or whether, forming the relative clause into a separate assertion, and connecting the two by the particle and, we say “man, and he is subject to death, ought not to be too much elated.” In the one sentence, indeed, the reason is implied why man should not be too much elated, his being subject to death; and in the other, no reason is assigned for this; we only affirm that man is subject to death, and likewise that he should not be too much elated; but as both affirmations are equally true and evident, it is of little consequence, in such a case as this, whether the reason upon which either is founded be implied or not.

From the whole of this investigation, the following conclusions may be deduced as sufficiently established: lsr, That the relative pronoun contains in itself the united powers of a connective and another pronoun, %dly, That of is the connective of which, together with another pronoun, it contains the powers, as in every possible instance it may be resolved into these constituent parts, and the import of the sentence in which it has place remain unaltered. 3dly, That in the ancient languages the relative clause of a sentence has the import of an abstract substantive in the genitive case ; in English, with the particle of prefixed, ⅛thly, That the relative pronoun is of necessary use only where there is a deficiency of adjectives or substantives to denote some complex attribute, by which we want to limit a general term or expression; but that where such adjectives or substantives exist in language, we may use the relative or not at pleasure. And, 5thly, That though, in cases where the relative clause does not limit a general term, the relative pronoun may, without violating truth, be analysed by and ; yet such analysis is never proper, as it gives two predicates to the same subject, which, ia the original proposition, had but one predicate.

If the clause of the relative be equivalent to an adjective, as in every instance it seems to be, it will naturally occur, that in the ancient languages, the relative should agree with its antecedent in gender, number, and case. They do agree for the most part in gender and number; in case they cannot often, because the very intention of introducing a relative into language is to represent the antecedent in a different case. Whenever we have occasion to use a substantive or noun in a clause of a sentence, and afterwards to express by another clause, in which there is a verb, an attribute of the object denoted by that substantive, we then employ the relative pronoun. Now it seldom happens that the two clauses admit of the same regimen; and hence the case of the relative is often necessarily different from that of the antecedent, as the case of each must be accommodated to the clause in which it is found. Thus we cannot say, “Deus qui colimus bonus est ;” but, “Deus quem colimus bonus est ;” because the regimen of the verb colo is always the accusative.

This shows the necessity of introducing a relative into [7:10:654]those languages which give inflexions to their nouns. Were all the nouns of a language indeclinable, there would be little occasion for a relative; and accordingly in English it is often omitted. Examples are frequent in our best authors. Suffice it to quote the following.

For I have buuneu would employ an age Rowe.

I had several men died in my ship of calentures— Swift.

They affect to guess at the object they cannot see— Bolingbroke.

We are not ignorant that our most eminent grammarians consider such expressions as chargeable with impropriety; and we are far from recommending them in any dignified or solemn composition. But in the instances adduced there is not the smallest degree of obscurity; at least there is none occasioned by the omission of the relative. The reason seems to be, that the mind can easily, by an effort of its own, make the antecedent unite, first with the one clause, and then with the other. Thus, when it is said, “I have business would employ an age,” the mind can, without any difficulty, as the word business has no inflexions, consider it first as the objective case after leave, and then as the nominative to would employ ; but this cannot be so easily done in the ancient languages, where the termination of the noun is changed by the variation of its cases.

Both in the learned and in the living languages the relative has different forms, corresponding to the different genders of nouns; and by these it gives notice whether it is applied to persons, or to things without life. Thus in the English language we say, The man or the woman who went to Rome; The tree which stands on yonder plain. It admits likewise, when applied to males or females, a variation of cases similar to that of the personal pronouns. Thus we say, The man whose book is now before me; The man or woman whom I saw yesterday; but the neuter admits of no such distinction,^[10. “ Whoιe is by some authors made the possessive case of which, and applied to things as well as persons ∣ I think, improperly— booth. ] as we say, The tree which I saw, as well as The tree which stands on yonder plain. In modern languages the relative admits not of any distinction to denote number; for we say, The man or the men who came yesterday; The man or the men of whom I speak.

In English, the word that, which by some has been called a demonstrative pronoun, by others a pronominal article, and by us a definite article, is often used instead of the relative, as in the following examples: “He is the same man that I saw yesterday; he was the ablest prince that ever filled a throne.” With regard to the principle upon which this acceptation of the word that depends, we beg to offer the following conjecture.

In English, from the phlegmatic arrangement of the language, occasioned by the want of inflexions and conjugations, the place of every part of a sentence is almost uniformly determined, and very little variety is allowed in the collocation of the words. The adjective is almost always placed in apposition with its substantive, and the nominative with its verb. In consequence of this uniformity in the collocation of the words, the mind acquires a habit of connecting in idea any kind of word with the place in which it is used to stand; and is naturally led to consider every word which stands in such a place as belonging to such a class. Hence it is, we imagine, that the definitive that passes into the nature of the relative pronoun; as in those instances in which it occupies the place of the relative, it was natural to consider it as having the same import. Yet the word that has undoubtedly in itself no more the force of the relative pronoun than ihe or this, or any other definitive whatever. In such expressions as the foregoing, it is not improbable that originally the clause of the definitive that, which we now call die relative clause, was thrown in as a kind of modifying circumstance, thus, “The book (I read that) is elegant,” where the speaker, finding the word 1 book too general for his purpose, throws in a clause to qualify and restrict it, or to confine his affirmation to that particular book which he is then reading. We can easily suppose that through time the definitive that in such an expression might be transposed or removed from its own place to that of the relative; so that the expression would run thus, “The book that I read is elegant which would be considered as precisely equivalent to “The book which I read is elegant.” This opinion is not a little confirmed by a similar use of the article in Greek, which, though undoubtedly a definitive like the English the, is often used instead of the relative pronoun. Numberless examples may be found in Homer and Herodotus, especially in the latten who seldom uses what is properly called the relative. We shall produce one instance from each.

Ein«. Ar(∣∣lι> Aγ∙ ∣ otorme, TON ∏ξ∣ Z<v( “in» rínwi i uμ,ri(H — Homer.

O(*wr< γuζ ĮMyeO-w, x∙ruχ∙,rs (wiΛ A∕shuw) 2ιaα

IT·· n¢irului ,e ∣ u,σι TOTΣ α> e<fwι ∑<λ∙> hreu Herodot.

We have said that the interrogative pronouns, as they are called, who, which, what, are intimately connected with relatives; we now affirm, that the two first of these words are nothing but relatives, and that the last contains in itself the united powers of a relative and a definitive. With respect to cases, number, and gender, the words who and which, when employed as interrogatives, differ not from the same words when employed as relatives; and we hold it as a maxim, without which science could not be applied to the subject of language, that the same word has always the same radical import, in whatever different situations it may be placed. To understand this, it is necessary to observe, that all men have a natural propensity to communicate their thoughts in the fewest words possible: hence it follows, that words are often omitted which are necessary to complete the construction of the sentence; and this nowhere happens more frequently than in the use of who and which. In sentences where these words are confessedly relatives, we often find them without an antecedent; as, Who steals my purse steals trash— Shakspeare. which who would learn, as soon may tell, &c.— Dryden.

Qui Bavium non odit, amet tua carmina, Afervi —Virg.

That is, “He who steals my purse ,i Which he who would learn, as soon may tell and “Ille qui Bavium non odit," &c. Such abbreviations occasion no obscurity, because from previous circumstances the hearer knows the mind of the speaker and the persons to whom he refers. But it is not with respect to the relative and antecedent only that such abbreviations have place; in sentences of a different form, whole clauses are sometimes omitted, whilst the meaning of the speaker is made sufficiently plain. Thus, when King Richard III. having lost his horse in battle, exclaims,

A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! there is no complete thought expressed; but the circumstances in which the king then was, enabled those about him to understand that he wanted a horse. Accordingly Catesby answers him, withdraw, my lord; I’ll help you to a horse.

In like manner, when a person asks a question, his expression is frequently incomplete; but the tone of his voice, or some other circumstance, enables us to ascertain his meaning, and to supply, if we please, the words that are omitted. Thus when it is said, An fecisti ĩ nothing more is expressed than If you did it, the Latin an being nothing else but the Greek αs, si ; but some circumstance enables the person who hears it to know that the meaning is, “Say [7:10:655]if you did it.” Let us apply these observations to the ' words who and which. If these words be relatives, and if our analysis of the relative be just, it is obvious, that no complete meaning can be contained in the clause, “Who is your principal friend ?” for that clause contains nothing more than the circumstance of being your principal friend predicated of some unknown person; “of he is your principal friend.” That this is indeed the case, every man may be convinced, by asking himself what he means by the interrogative who in such a sentence; for he will find it impossible to affix to it any meaning without supplying an antecedent clause, by which that which is called an interrogative will be immediately converted into the relative pronoun. The custom, however, of language, and the tone of voice with which the relative clause is uttered, intimates, without the help of the antecedent, the wish of the speaker to be informed by the person addressed of the name and designation of h⅛ principal friend; and we know t)ιat the sentence when completed is, “Tell me the name and designation of the person who is your principal friend.” Again, when the prophet says, “Who is this that cometh from Ėdom, with dyed garments from Bozrah ?” he utters but part of a sentence, which when completed will run thus: “Describe the person who cometh from Edom (this is that person), with dyed garments from Bozrah.” He sees a person coming from Edom, of whose name and designation he is ignorant; he calls upon some one for information concerning these particulars; and that there may be no mistake, he describes the unknown person as having “dyed garments from Bozrah but lest even that description should not be sufficiently accurate, he throws in the definitive clause, “this is that person,” pointing at him, we may suppose, with his finger. Which, used as an interrogative, indicates a wish of knowing a particular person or thing out of more than one mentioned; as, “Which of the two did it?” that is, “ Tell me the one of the two which did řt ?” for, in old English, which as a relative is often used, where in modern English we should say who·, and that mode of speech is still retained when the antecedent ia omitted, and the relative clause employed to indicate such a wish as that before us. What includes in itself the signification of a definitive and a relative pronoun; as, “from what has gone before, what follows may easily be guessed where the word what is equivalent to that which. When therefore we say, “What rude fellow is that ?” our meaning is, “Describe that person who is that rude fellow.” Upon the whole, then, it is evident, that the words called interrogatives are merely relative pronouns; and that interrogative sentences are relative clauses uttered in such circumstances as to enable the hearer to supply the antecedents necessary to complete the meaning.

In fine, we have seen that substantives are either primary or secondary; or, in other words, nouns or pronouns. Nouns denote substances, and those either natural, artificial, or abstract. They moreover denote things either general, or special, or particular; and a general or specific name is made to denote an individual by means of words called articles or definitives. Pronouns are the substitutes of nouns, and are either prepositive or subjunctive. The prepositive is distinguished into three orders, called the first, the second, and the third person. The subjunctive, otherwise called the relative, includes the powers of all those three, having superadded as of its own the peculiar force of a connective.

IV. Of Verbs. '

The words which we have hitherto considered are com monly called substantives primary or secondary, and definitives; because nouns are significant of substances; pronouns are the substitutes of nouns; and the article serves to ascertain the extent of the noun, and to determine whether on any occasion it be significant of a whole class of substances, or only of one individual. But substances are of importance to mankind only on account of their various qualities or attributes; for their internal texture is a thing of which we are profoundly ignorant, and with which we have no manner of concern. Thus, experience teaches us that certain vegetables are pleasant to the taste, and wholesome food; whilst others are unpleasant and poisonous. The former kinds are valuable only for their qualities or attributes; and they are the qualities or attributes of the latter that make them worthless or hurtful. A horse is strong, and swift, and docile, and may be trained to carry a man on a journey, or to drag a plough. It is for his strength, swiftness, and docility, that he is the most valuable of all quadrupeds. One man is brave, another learned, and another eloquent; and by possessing these different qualities or attributes, each is fitted for a different station in society. It is plain, therefore, that in contemplating substances, our attention must be principally bestowed upon their qualities, and that the words which serve to denote these qualities must be an essential part of language. Such words are in general called attributives, and are of three sorts, verbs, participles, and adjectives.

Of all the constituent parts of speech, none has given the grammarians greater trouble than the verb. The vast variety of circumstances which it blends together in one word throws very considerable difficulties in the way of him who attempts to analyse it and ascertain its nature; at the same time that, by its eminent use in language, it is entitled to al! the attention which can be bestowed upon it. To the discussion of the verb, Mr Harris, whose notions of this as of the other parts of speech have been generally adopted by the subsequent writers on grammar, has dedicated a large proportion of his book, in which he has thrown out many excellent observations, mixed, as it appears to us, with several errors. We have already observed, that no man is ignorant when he uses what is called a verb and when a noun. Every schoolboy knows that the words is, loveth, walketh, standeth, in English, and est, amat, amatur, ambulat, stat, in Latin, are verbs; he knows likewise that they are of different kinds, that some of them are said to be active, some passive, and some neuter. But it should seem that the first object of our investigation ought to be the characteristic of the verb, or that which all these words have in common, and which constitutes them verbs, distinguishing them from every other species of words. Now it is obvious to the slightest attention, that every verb, whether active, passive, or neuter, may be resolved into the substantive verb is, and another attributive ; for loveth is of the same import with is loving ; walketĥ, with is walking ; and amat, with amans est. But loving, walking, and amans, are not verbs; and hence it follows, that the characteristic of the verb, that which constitutes it what it is, and cannot be expressed by other words, must be that which is signified by the word is; and to us that appears to be neither more nor less than assertion.

Assertion, therefore, or predication, is certainly the very essence of the verb, as being that part of its office, and that part only, which cannot be discharged by other kinds of words.^[11. Hence a common noun, or even a proper name, may be converted into a verb by being rendered assertive or predicative. Thus, in the indignant rebuke addressed by Rob Hoy to Rashleigh Osbaldistone, “Don't Mr or Campbell me, sir; my foot is on my native heath, and my name is Macgregor the proper name “ Campbell," being that which Rob usually assumed in his lowland and southern expeditions, is converted into a verb, and great force thereby given to the exclamation, (űr Hunter.) ] Every other circumstance which the verb includes, such as attribute, mode, time, it may be possible to express by adjectives, participles, and adverbs; [7:10:656]but without a verb it is impossible to predicate, to affirm or deny, any one thing of any other thing. The office of the verb, then, when stript of all accidental circumstances, seems to be merely this: “To join together the subject and predicate of a proposition.” Its powers are analogous to those of the sign 4- in algebra, which does not affect the separate value of the quantities’ between which it is placed, but only indicates their union or coalescence. To explain by an example: When we say, Cicero eloquens, Cicero wise : these are imperfect sentences, though they denote a substance and an attribute. The reason is, that they want an assertion, to show that such an attribute appertains to such a substance. But when we insert the word was, we join the substance and attribute together; we give notice that the wisdom and eloquence are applied to Cicero, and we do nothing more; we neither increase the wisdom nor diminish it, we neither make it real nor imaginary; for it was supposed in all its extent when the words Cicero and toise stood independent of each other. We may indeed use the verb in a form which implies not an assertion only, but likewise an attribute; as when we say, George writeth, or George walketh. But as whiteness or any other particular colour is not of the essence of a horse, an animal which is found of all colours; so, in the phrases quoted, the attribute, though implied, is not of the essence of the verb; for it may be equally well expressed by other words, as George is meriting, and George is walking, which are phrases of the very same import with George writeth and George wcdketh.

In resolving every verb, whether active, passive, or neuter, into the substantive verb is and another attributive, we have the honour to agree with all the grammarians; but to the word is itself the learned author of Hermes has given a meaning which, as a verb, it does not admit. He observes, that before any thing can be the subject of a proposition, it must exist; that all existence is either absolute or qualified, mutable or immutable; that the verb is can by itself express absolute existence, but never the qualified, without subjoining the particular form; and that it signifies both mutable and immutable existence, having in these cases different meanings, although the sentences which he gives as examples are evidently Constructed in the same manner, and consist of the same parts of speech. His examples are: Of absolute existence, B is: of qualified, B is an animal-, of mutable, This orange is ripe·, of immutable, The diagonal of the square is incommensurable with its sides. But if predication be the essence of verb, all this is nothing to the purpose, and part of it is not true. It is not true that the verb is ever varies its signification; for it has as verb no connection with existence of any kind. All such circumstances are superadded to its verbal nature; or, to speak more accurately, we infer such circumstances from our previous knowledge of the objects concerning which the predication is made. When we say, “This orange is ripe,” we do indeed mean, as Mr Harris observes, that it ⅛ so now at this present in opposition to past and future time; but it is not the verb is, but the definitive this, which fixes the time of maturity, as well as the place, of the orange. If we had said, Oranges are ripe, we might have been properly asked, When and where are they ripe? although the same verb is used in both sentences. Even in the sentence B is, absolute existence, the most simple of all, is inferred, and not expressed, by the verb; and the infe rence is made from this obvious principle, that when one utters a mark of predication, we naturally conclude that he means to predicate something of the subject. If he adds no specific predication, as B is round, we apply to B the most general that we can; and what other species is so general as existence?

That the idea of existence, considered as mutable or immutable, is not contained in the verb is itself, but is derived from our knowledge of the objects concerning which the predication is made, appears manifestly from this, that if a person be supposed ignorant of the meaning of the words God and man, whilst he knows that of is, the uttering of the two propositions, God is happy, and This man is happy, will give him no notice of existence considered as mutable or immutable, temporary or eternal.^[12. k∙ΓΛ b rvι ' t,0n ma y be proved by experiment, as, for instance, by uttering to a man of good common sense these L ľ· ∕ ft care to express the words God and man in a language which he does not understand. Thus, Deut is happy, mutable őr'immíitabl’e 11 t ° a man t0ta 'b' unacquainted with the Latin tongue, will contain no notice of existence considered as ] His conclusion with respect to these modes of existence, if any such conclusion be drawn at all, must be derived entirely from his previous knowledge of the nature of God and the nature of man.

Some of our readers may possibly think this notion of verb too abstract and metaphysical; yet what other circumstance than mere predication is essential to that species of words? We say essential·, for we are inquiring, not what is expressed by each individual verb, but what it is which is equally expressed by all verbs, and which distinguishes them from the other parts of speech. And if it be true, that every thing which the verb implies, predication alone excepted, may be expressed by other parts of speech, and that no other parts of speech can predicate, then we think ourselves warranted to affirm, that simple predication is the essential characteristic of verb ; that every word which predicates is a verb ; and that nothing is so which does not predicate.

It must not, however, be concealed, that a doctrine very different from this has been maintained by a writer of distinguished abilities. “We have energy expressed,” says Dr Gregory,^[13. Theory of the Moods of verbs, published in vol. it of the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. ] “and of course a verb constituted without affirmation, when we wish or command; without command, when we affirm or wish; without wish, when we command or affirm; yet in all these cases we have equally and indisputably a verb.”

That in all these cases we have a verb, is indeed indisputable; but we hold it to be equally indisputable, that in all these cases we have affirmation. The ingenious author has given no direct example of a wish or command uttered without affirmation; and a feeling or sentiment which is not uttered has nothing to do with language; but he has given a sentence in which there are three verbs, that in his opinion denote no affirmation, but a very plain supposition. If a supposition can be expressed without affirmation, we shall very readily allow that a wish or command may be so expressed likewise. The doctor’s supposition is thus expressed: “Had any punishment ever overtaken you for your broken vows; were but one of your teeth growing black, or even were but one of your nails growing less beautiful, I should believe you.” It is almost superfluous to observe, that to every verb not in the infinitive mode there must be a nominative, and to every active verb an object, whatever be the arrangement of the sentence in which such verbs are found. These are truths known to every schoolboy; the reasons of them shall be afterwards given. It is likewise undeniable, that in the sentence before us the nominative to “had" is “any punishment ;” to the first, “were one of your teeth ;” and [7:10:657]to the second, “one of your nails.” But the sentence arranged in grammatical order, with the several nominatives before their respective verbs, is evidently elliptical; and the conjunction if must be supplied as well to complete the construction as to make sense of the passage. “ If any punishment had ever overtaken you; if but one of your teeth were growing black, or even ιfbut one of your nails were growing less beautiful, I should believe you.” Now it has been proved, by such evidence as leaves no room for doubt, that if, though called a conjunction, is in fact a verb in the imperative mode, of the same import with give ; so that we may substitute the one for the other without in the smallest degree altering the sense. The sentence will then run thus: “Give any punishment had ever overtaken you; <7⅛ebut0ne0f your teeth were growing black, &c. I should believe you.” It is therefore so far from being true, that had and were, when the sentence is completed, express no affirmation; that it is only upon granting the truth of the affirmation which they denote that the speaker says, “I should believe you.” “Any punishment had ever overtaken you,” is plainly an affirmation; if, give that affirmation, admit its truth, “ I should believe you.” But it cannot be supposed that had and were change their significations by a mere change of place, or that by being removed from the middle to the beginning of a clause they lose their original import, and come to denote something entirely different. Were this the case, every attempt to ascertain and fix the general principles of grammar would be as ridiculous as an attempt to arrest the course of time. For what purpose, then, it may be asked, if the verb always denotes affirmation, is it removed from the middle to the beginning of the clause, when supposition is implied, as in the present instance? We answer, that supposition is neither more nor less than conditional affirmation; that when such affirmation is completely expressed, the verb is not removed to the beginning of the clause; and that such removal takes place only when the clause is elliptical, being merely an artificial contrivance in language, to show the reader or hearer that some such word as if, demanding the truth of the affirmation, is omitted for the sake of dispatch. This is evident; for when the word requiring the affirmation to be granted is supplied, the verb must be restored to its place in the middle of the clause. Such abbreviations, and such contrivances to mark them, are frequent in all languages, as will be seen more clearly when we come to treat of modes or moods. Upon the whole, then, we are compelled reluctantly to differ from this writer, and still to think that simple predication is the essence of the verb.

Should we be required to exemplify our theory by language, and to produce instances of this simplified verb in practice, we might answer, that the not being able to produce such instances would be no good argument against the truth of our principles. It is the nature of language to express many circumstances by the same word, all of which, however, are not essential to distinguish the species to which that word belongs from the other species of words; and it is the nature of man to infer from discourse many things which are not actually expressed. Perhaps, however, something very nearly approaching to an exemplification of our idea of a simple verb will be found in the proposition, “The three angles of every plane triangle are equal to two right angles.” What other office the verb are here performs than simply to join the subject and predicate, it is difficult to perceive. It does not give notice of time; or such notice, if given, is an imperfection; for the truth of the proposition is independent of time. Neither ought it to imply existence; for the proposition would be true were there neither a triangle nor a right angle in nature.

This idea of verb, when well considered, will be found just; but should any of our readers suspect it of novelty, and on that account be disposed to condemn it, we have only to request that he will restrain his censure till he has examined the writings of others, and nicely observed the several states of his own mind in discourse; for meditation may perhaps show him that our theory is not false, and inquiry will satisfy him that it is not novel.^[14. “Besides words, which are names of ideas in the mind, there are a great many others that are made use of to signify the connection that the mind gives to ideas or propositions one with another. The mind, in communicating its thoughts to others, does not only need signs of the ideas it has then before it, but others also to show or intimate some particular action of its own at that time relating to those ideas. This it does several ways; as is and is hot are the general marks of the mind affirming or denying.” (Locke on Human Understanding.) ' ’ verbum est pars orationis variabilis, aliquid de re aliqua dici seu affirmari significans, vulgaris verbi definitio est, quod, sit pars orationis, quae agere, pati, aut esse significet. Sed nostra accuration, magisque ex ipsa verbi cujus-vis natura petita videtur. Caeterum ™ affirmari laxiore hic sensu accipimus, pro eo quod praedicari dialectici appellent, quo non modo affirmationes strictius sic dietse, sed negationes etiam interrogationesque includuntur.” (Ruddiman, Grammatica Institutiones: see also Beattie’s Theory of Language.) ]

But although it is certain that assertion, and assertion only, is essential to the verb, yet the greater part of that species of words which grammarians call verbs are used to denote an attribute as well as an assertion; or, in the language of logic, they express both the copula and the predicate of a proposition; thus, he liveth, he writeth, he walketh, are phrases equivalent in all respects to he is living, he is writing, he is walking. Now, of attributes, some have their essence in motion, as walking ; some in the privation of motion, as resting·, and others have nothing to do with either motion or its privation, as white and black. But all motion and all privation of motion imply time as their concomitant; and a substance may have an attribute to-day which it had not yesterday, and will not have to-morrow. This is self-evident; for a man may be at rest to-day who yesterday was walking, and to-morrow will be on horseback; and a sheet of paper may have been white yesterday which to-day is black, and at some future time will be of a different colour. As, therefore, all motions and their privations imply time; and as a proposition may be true at one time which is not true at another, all verbs, as well those which denote both an attribute and an assertion, as those which denote an assertion only, come to denote time also. Hence the origin and use of tenses, which are so many different forms assigned to each verb, to show, without altering its principal signification, the various times in which the assertion expressed by it may be true. Whether these various forms of the verb be essential to language, it is vain to dispute. They have place in every language with which we are acquainted; and as the use of the verb is to affirm one thing of another, it is absolutely necessary that the time when such or such an affirmation is true be marked by tenses, or some other contrivance. Concerning tenses, therefore, we shall throw together some observations, which, mutatis mutandis, are applicable to every language, ŋremising only a general remark or two which seem necessary in order to proceed with precision.

Time, although its essence consists in succession continued and unbroken, may yet be considered by the mind as divided into an infinite number of parts. There is, however, one grand division which necessarily occurs, and to which the different tenses of verbs are in all languages adapted. Computing from some portion conceived to be [7:10:658]present, all time is either past or to come. Hence the tenses of verbs are threefold; some denoting time present, some time past, and others time future.

Again, from the very nature of time, it must be obvious that all its parts are relative; or, in other words, that no portion of it can be ascertained by any thing inherent in itself, but only by referring it to some other portion, with respect to which it is past, present, or to come. In this respect time is perfectly analogous to space; for as the space in which any object exists cannot be described but by stating its relation to some other space, so neither can the time of any attribute or action be determined, but by stating its relation to some other time. When, therefore, we would mark the time of any action or event, we must previously fix upon some point to which we may refer it. If this point be known, the time referred to it will also be known; but if the former be not known, neither will the latter.

Lastly, in contemplating an action, we may have occasion to consider it as going on, or as finished. This distinction is likewise denoted by the different tenses of verbs. In treating, therefore, of the tenses, there are two things to which attention ought principally to be turned ;—the relation which the several tenses have to one another in respect of time; and the notice which ,they give of an action’s being completed or not completed.

Having premised these remarks, we proceed now to the tenses themselves; of which Mr Harris has enumerated no fewer than twelve. Of this enumeration we can by no means approve; for, without entering into a minute examination of it, nothing can be more obvious, than that his inceptive present, I am going to write, is a future tense; and his completive present, I have written, a past tense. But, as was before observed of the classification of words, we cannot help being of opinion, that to take the tenses as they are commonly received, and endeavour to ascertain their nature and their differences, is a much more useful exercise, as well as more proper for a work of this kind, than to raise, as might easily be done, new and hypothetical theories on the subject.

It has already been observed that all the tenses must necessarily mark relative time. In one sense this is extremely obvious. The present tense is used in contradistinction to both the past and future, and marks an attribute or action as existing in neither. The past and the future are in like manner used in contradistinction to the present, and mark an attribute or action which exists not now, but which in the one case has existed formerly, and in the other will exist at some time coming. But besides this relation of contradistinction subsisting among the tenses, there is another of co-existence, as we may call it, to which it is of great consequence to attend, especially in examining the nature of the present.

The present tense refers not only to something which is past or future, but also to something with which the attribute or action of the verb is contemporary. This reference is necessarily implied in its very name; for we cannot say of any thing that it is present, without implying at the same time that there is something else with which it is present. Hence it appears with how little reason Mr Harris and others have given us an aorist of the present, as marking present time indefinitely in contradistinction to other presents, which have been called inceptive, extended, and completive presents. For from what has been said, it follows, that the present tense is necessarily and from its very nature perfectly indefinite, and can of itself give notice of no precise or determinate portion or point of time whatever. A thing may have been present fifty years ago, may be present now, or at any future period. This tense implies the relation of co-existence between two or more things; but without some auxiliary circumstance, it cannot in any language mark the particular portion of time in which those things exist. The indefinite nature of this tense is indeed most clearly seen in that use of it in which Mr Harris has styled it the aorist of the present; that is, in cases where it is employed to denote the repetition of an action which the agent is accustomed frequently to perform, or to express propositions of which the truth is evinced by general experience; as in the following examples :—

Hypocrisy the only evil that walks

Invisible, except to God alone.

Ad pernitendum properat jui cito judicat.

In these instances it is plain that there is no particular time pointed out; the propositions are true, or apprehended as true, at all times. Although the actions, therefore, of “walking” and “hastening” are expressed as present, it is impossible from the expressions to determine any precise point of time when they are present.

But if the present tense be thus indefinite, how, it may be asked, are we to ascertain the particular time which is intended? We answer, it is to be ascertained, either by stating the action of the verb as existing in some time already known, or by inference. If, for example, we say, “Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth unseen,” the proposition is general, and the time of walking undetermined. But if we add, “both when we wake and when we sleep,” the time is by this addition ascertained and specified; for if the time when men wake and sleep be known, the time when these spirits walk the earth is also known. When no specifying clause is given by which to determine the time of the present tense, it is very commonly determined by inference. Thus, if one use such an expression as “He sleeps while I am speaking to him,” the time of his sleeping is ascertained by the subsequent clause of the sentence; but if it be said simply, “he sleeps,” without assigning any data from which it may be concluded when his sleeping is present, we very naturally infer that it is at the instant when we receive the information of his sleeping. Such inferences as this are common in language. The mind is desirous to obtain complete information on every subject, and therefore frequently supplies to itself what is not expressed in the speech of others.

Both these ways of ascertaining the precise time of the present tense are excellently illustrated by the use of the word present as applied to space. Take a familiar example: “His brother and he were present when I read the letter.” It is at first sight evident that this expression is perfectly indefinite. But if it be said, “His brother and he were present at your house when I read the letter,” the place of action is then determined by being referred to a portion of space which is known. If no such reference be made, the person who hears the speech uttered must either remain ignorant of the place intended, or he must ascertain it to himself by inference; and he will probably infer it to be that in which the speaker is at the time of his uttering the indefinite sentence. This leads us to observe, that such inferences are not often made without sufficient foundation. Various circumstances may assist the reader or hearer in making them, and prevent all danger of mistake. He may have the evidence of sense, or of something preceding in the discourse, and a number of other particulars, to warrant his conclusion. Thus, if, when sitting by a large fire, any one pronounce the words “I am too warm,” those to whom he addresses his speech are authorized to conclude that he is too warm at the time of speaking, unless he expressly prevent the drawing of that conclusion by adding some such clause as “when I wear a great coat.”

It is strictly demonstrable, and has been in fact demonstrated by Mr Harris, that there is no such thing as present time. Yet do we not only conceive time as present [7:10:659]and existing, but frequently as extended to a very great ’ degree. We speak not only of the present instant, or the present day, but also of the present year, and even of the present century. This manner of conceiving time is indeed loose and unphilosophical, but it is sufficient for the ordinary purposes of language. To express time as it really is, we ought to say, the passing day, the passing year, and the passing century; but in common discourse we denominate any portion of time present, in which the present now or instant is included, although it is obvious that part of that portion is past, and the remainder of it future. From the very nature of time thus conceived to be present, the tense now under consideration must represent the action of the verb as commenced, and not finished; for as time is in continued succession, and accompanies every action, when any action is not commenced, it exists not in any time, although it may exist hereafter in time which is now future; and when it is finished, it exists no longer in time present, but in time past. Hence the absurdity of introducing into a theory of the tenses an inceptive present and a completive present; for these terms imply each a direct contradiction.

After having said so much respecting the present tense, we shall have but little to say of the prater-imperfect. It states an action in regard to time as past; and in respect of progress, as unfinished. Legebam, I was reading at some time, but my reading was then incomplete; I had not finished the book or the letter. We must here observe, however, as we did with respect to the present tense, that although the praeter-imperfect represents the action as past, it does not inform us in what precise portion of past time the unfinished action was going on; this circumstance must either be given in separate words, or be inferred by the hearer. If one say simply, Legebam, the person to whom he addresses his speech will conclude that the time of liis reading is past with respect to the present time of his speaking. But if he say Legebam antequam venisti, he expressly states the action of reading as past with respect to the time in which his hearer came to the place where they both are at the time of speaking. The time of the praeter-imperfect is always past with respect to the present instant when the imperfect is used, and of this the tense itself gives notice; but it may also b.e past with respect to some other time, and of this it conveys no information.

If we join two praeter-impersects together, the expression will state the co-existence of two progressive actions, both of which were going on at a time past in respect of some determinate time given or supposed. Oum tu scribebas ego legebam ; “when you were writing 1 was reading.” Hence the praeter-imperfect has by some grammarians been called the relative present; a name which, however, is by no means exclusively applicable to this tense. When the praeter-imperfect is by the conjunction and joined in the same sentence with a plusquam-persect, the two tenses express two actions, both prior to the time of speaking; but the one as having continued after the other was finished. Thus Aeneas, speaking of the destruction of Troy, says, that after having escaped with his father and followers, he returned to the city in quest of his wife, and went directly to his own house; but there, continues he, Irruerant Danai, et tectum omne tenebant, “the Greeks had rushed in," that action was over and completed before his arrival; but the act of “possessing the whole house,” tenebant, was not over, but still continuing.

But it is necessary 'that the verb should denote actions which were complete or perfect in past time, as well as those which were incomplete or imperfect. For this purpose Greek and English verbs have an aorist, a praeter-perfect, and a plusquam-perfect. Of these the Latin has only the two last. The praeter-perfect in that language sustains a twofold character; it performs the office of the Greek and English aorist, as well as that of the praeter-perfect properly so called; that is, it denotes a finished action at some indefinite past time, as well as at some time which is both past and definite.

In attempting to analyse the signification of complex terms, by which we here mean words that include m their signification a variety of particulars, it is of great advantage to have these particulars separately expressed by different words in another language. Now the English has resolved the tenses, which in the Greek and Latin languages are denominated the aorist and the praeter-perfect, by means of what are commonly called auxiliary verbs, expressing the former by the verb did, and the latter by the verb have. In examining therefore the aorist and praeter-perfect, it will be of use to inquire into the import of these verbs.

Did is evidently the aorist of the verb to do ; a verb of the most general signification, as it denotes action of every kind. It expresses the finished performance of some action, the completion of which must of course have taken place in some portion of past time : “ I did write, or I wrote (these expressions being equivalent) yesterday, a month, a year ago.” But the import of did being so very general, it can convey no determinate meaning without being limited by the addition of some particular action; and this addition, however expressed, is to be considered in the same light as an accusative case, governed by the active verb did; for it produces exactly the same effect. , Eχsα∙ψα, scripsi, I did write; that is, “at some past time 1 performed the action of writing, and finished it.”

The verb have, which is included in the praeter-perfect, is plainly a verb of the present tense denoting possession, But a man may possess one thing as well as another; and therefore have requires limitation, for the very same reason that did requires it, namely, because its signification is perfectly general. Now this limitation, whatever it is, must be conceived as the thing possessed; and in instances where have is limited by a noun, this is obvious, and universally acknowledged. “I have a gold watch,” means “I possess a gold watch." But to annex the same meaning to the word have, when used as an anxiliary verb, is an idea we believe not common, and which may perhaps be thought whimsical; yet what other meaning can be affixed to it? To suppose that words have not each a radical and determinate signification, is to suppose language a subject incapable of philosophical investigation; and to suppose, with Mr Harris, that there are words entirely devoid of signification, is at once to render all inquiries into the principles of grammar nugatory and ridiculous. We conceive, then, that each of the phrases, γtγςaφa ⅛∕tfroai)v, scripsi epistolam, I have written a letter, is equivalent to the phrase, “I possess at present the finished action of writing a letter.” Such an expression may sound harsh to the ear, because it is not in use; but we often employ expressions, to the precise and proper meaning of which we do not attend; and if the above be attentively considered, however awkward it may at first appear, nothing will be found in it either improper or absurd.

The aorist, then, we conceive to state an action as performed and finished in some past portion of time; whilst the praeter-perfect represents the past performance and completion of that action as now possessed. And here we may hazard a conjecture why have, when used as an auxiliary verb, is always joined with a past participle; whereas did is joined to a word expressing the simple action of the verb, or, as it is called, present infinitive. Of the expression, “I have written a letter,” one part, namely, the verb have, denotes present time; the other part, viz. written, must denote past time, to give notice that the action is persormed and finished. Did, on the other [7:10:660] hand, implying past time, has no occasion for the past part of another verb to give notice of this circumstance; for “I did write a letter,” is equivalent to, “at some past time I performed and finished the simple action of writing a letter.”

The principal distinction in practice between the aorist and praeter-persect (for the difference seems litt)e in their real import) consists in the time by which the performance of the action admits of being particularly specified. The praeter-persect is always joined with a portion of time which includes the present now or instant ; for otherwise it could not signify, as it always does, the present possession of the finishing of an action. But the aorist, which signifies no such possession, is as constantly joined with a portion of past time which excludes the present now or instant. Thus we not only say, “I have written a letter this day, this week,” but “I wrote a letter yesterday, last week and to interchange these expressions of time in Greek and English, where the aorist and praeter-persect have different forms, would be improper. In Latin, indeed, where they have but one form, the impropriety does not appear.

Besides the tenses already examined, which are expressive of past time, in most languages the verb has another tense called the plusquam-perfect, in which, however, no difficulty occurs to detain our attention. What the praeter-imperfect is to the present tense, that the plusquam-perfect is to the praeter-persect. The verb had, by which it is resolved in English, being evidently the past time of have, sufficiently explains its meaning and relation to the other tenses. “I had written a letter,” is equivalent to the phrase, “I possessed at some past time the finished action of writing a letter.” It is justly observed by Dr Beattie, that the imperfect and plusquam-perfect are very useful, and may be the sources of much elegant expression; and that if one were not taught to distinguish, in respect of meaning as well as of form, these tenses from each other, and the praeterite from both, one could not pretend to understand, far less to translate, any good classic author.

Having considered the tenses which imply present and past time, it now remains that we examine the import of those which are expressive of time future. In Latin and English there are two tenses for this purpose, of which the first represents an action in point of time as not yet existing, but as about to exist at some period to come; but it does not bring the completion of the action into view. The other asserts the futurity of an action together with its completion. Scribam, “I shall be writing,” denotes future time and incomplete action; for it does not say whether I am to write for a long or for a short time, or whether I shall finish what I promise to begin. This part of the verb, therefore, to which the Greek yja∙ψ*ι corresponds, is an imperfect future, or, in other words, indefinite. The futurity of any action, it should seem, may always be computed from the time of speaking; for every action must be future with respect to the time at which its futurity is declared: but the time of its futurity may be more precisely specified by fixing upon some other future time to which to refer it: “I shall be writing after he shall have departed.” Shall or will refers to future time indefinitely; and write or writing refers to an action which is indeed to begin and so far to proceed, but of which nothing is said concerning the completion.

On the other hand, scripsero, “ I shall have written,” is a perfect future denoting complete action; for shall denotes future time; written, finished action; and have, present possession. So that the meaning of the whole assertion is, that “at some future period of time I shall possess the finished action of writing.” The completion of the action, together with the possession of it, is always future with respect to the time of assertion; but, with respect to some other time expressed or understood, the completion of the action is to be past: Promittis to scripturum si rogavero, “ you promise to write if I shall have asked you.” In this sentence the action of asking is future with relation to the time of promising, but it is past with relation to that of writing. This tense the Latin grammarians call the future of the subjunctive mode, but very improperly. The notice which it communicates respects not the power or liberty of acting, which, as will be seen by and by, is the characteristic of that mode; but only the action itself. It ought, therefore, to be ranked among the tenses of the indicative mode; for scripsero is, in every sense, as really indicative as scribam or scripturus ero.

These are all the tenses, essentially different from each other, which have place in the indicative mode (or mood) of any language with which we are acquainted;^[15. “It will perhaps occur,” says an elegant and ingenious writer, “that there are two Greek tenses of which I have given no account; namely, the ιccond aorirt and the second future. The truth is, that I consider them as unnecessary. Their place, for any thing I know to the contrary, might at all times be supplied by the frit aorist and the first future. Some grammarians are of opinion that the first aorist signifies time past in general, and the second indefinite time past; and that the first tuture denotes u nearer, and the second a more remote, futurity. But this, I apprehend, is mere conjecture, unsupported by proof; and therefore I incline rather to the sentiments of those who teach that the second future and the second aorist have no meaning different from the first future and the first aorist; and that they are the present and imperfect of some obsolete theme of the verb; and wķen the other theme came into use, happened to be retained for the sake of variety perhaps, or by accident, with a preterite and future signification. Be this as it will, as these tenses are peculiar to the Greek, and have nothing corresponding to them in other tongues, we need not scruple to overlook them as superfluous.” (Beattie on the Theory of Language, part ii. chap. 2.) To these judicious observations we have nothing to add, except that they acquire no small degree of confirmation from the circumstance that there are many Greek verbs which have no second future, and which are yet employed to denote every possible modification of future time. Of the yaulo-jmt-futurum of the Greeks we have taken no notice, because it is found only in the passive voice; to which, if it were necessary, it is obvious that it would be necessary in all voices, as a man may be about to act as well as to sujļcr immediately. ] but as there are tenses in the mode called subjunctive, which bear the same names with those already examined, and which have yet a different import, it will be necessary to consider them before we dismiss the subject of tenses. Of modes in general something will be said hereafter; at present we shall only observe, that the mode with which we are now concerned is not very properly distinguished by the name assigned to it by the Latin grammarians. They call it the subjunctive, because it is often subjoined to another verb, and forms the secondary clause of a sentence; but the mode called indicative frequently appears in the same circumstances. The difference between these two modes appears to us to consist in this, that the indicative asserts something directly concerning the action, and the subjunctive, something concerning the power or liberty of the agent to perform it; for that the latter asserts as well as the former, admits not of dispute.

The present tense of the subjunctive mode, in the learned languages, answers to the English auxiliaries may and can. Let us consider these a little. May is evidently a verb of the present tense denoting liberty. When I assert that I may write, I give notice that I am under no compulsion to abstain from writing; that there is no impediment from without by which I am restrained from writing. Can is also a verb of the present tense, expressive of internal power or skill. “I can write” is equivalent to such an [7:10:661]expression as this: “There is nothing in myself which incapacitates me for performing the operation of writing.” This verb seems originally to have denoted knowledge or skill, and to have been afterwards extended to signify power or ability of any kind. There is little doubt of its being the same with the old English verb to con, which signifies to know. The difference between the import of these two verbs, may and can, will be best perceived in a familiar example. Suppose we say to any one, “You may write a treatise on grammar,” to which he returns for answer, “I cannot;" our assertion evidently supposes him at liberty to write the treatise; his answer implies that he is unable or unskilled to do it. We may conclude, then, that the present tense of this mode contains a declaration of present liberty, ability, or skill; and its other tenses will be found to have reference to the same capacities.

The observation is here to be repeated which was enlarged upon when treating of the present of the indicative. The liberty or ability signified by this tense is always represented as present, but the time of this presence is indefinite. If no particular time be specified, we generally refer it to the time of speaking; but another point may be given from which we are to compute. “When he shall have finished, you may then proceed as you propose.” Here the liberty of proceeding is stated as present, not at the time of speaking, but at the time of his finishing, which is future to the time of speaking. But though the liberty, ability, or skill, denoted by this tense, be represented as present, the action itself is stated as contingent ; for it is not necessary that a man should perform an action because he has the capacity to perform it.

From this idea of the present of the subjunctive some of its most peculiar uses seem capable of being explained. And, in the first place, it appears to have a near affinity with the future of the indicative, insomuch that in many instances they may be used promiscuously. Without materially altering the effect of the expression, we may say, “Dicome facturum esse quae imperet" or “quae imperabit” The reason of this, perhaps, may be, that with respect to as, futurity and contingency are in most cases nearly the same, both being involved in equal obscurity; and therefore it is often of little consequence which mode of expression we employ.

Secondly, the present of the subjunctive is used to denote the right of which a person is possessed. “ I may, or I can, sell this book.” This application, which Dr Priestley considers as the primary signification of the tense, is easily deduced, or rather it follows immediately from the foregoing account of its import. For if one be under no restraint, either external or internal, to prevent him from performing an action, he has surely a right to perform it.

Thirdly, the present of the subjunctive is often used to signify command or request; as when one says, “You may give my compliments to such a person.” This use of the tense under consideration seems to have arisen from a desire to soften the harshness of a command, by avoiding the appearance of claiming superiority. When a man utters the above sentence, he certainly utters no command, but only asserts that the person to whom he speaks has liberty or power to do him a favour. This assertion, however, may contain no new information; and therefore the person addressed, reflecting upon the intention of the speaker in making it, infers that it indicates a wish or desire that his compliments should be made to such a person.

Of the subjunctive as well as of the indicative, the praeter-imperfect is evidently the past time of the present. As the latter asserts liberty or ability to perform some action, as existing at present, the former asserts the same liberty or ability to have existed in time past; but the precise portion of time past in which these capacities existed must be specified by other words, or it will remain unknown. Thus, in the following sentence, “Dixi me facturum esse quae imperaret” the time of imperaret is referred to that of dixi ; the person having the right to command is supposed to have had it at the time when the other said that he would obey. This tense, as well as the present, states the action as going on and incomplete; and also as future with respect to the liberty or ability to perform it. It is rendered into English by the verbs could or might, of which the first is the past time of can, and the second of may. From the near affinity which the present of the subjunctive has to the future of the indicative, the tense now under consideration appears in many instances as the past time of the latter as well as the former. Thus, Dixi me facturum quae imperaret, may be rendered “I said that I would do whatever he might, or whatever he should, command.”

Of the praeter-perfect it is sufficient to observe, that as the present states the agent as at liberty to be performing an unfinished action, so this tense states him as at liberty to perform the action considered as finished. “I may be writing a letter when you come that is, “I am at liberty to be writing a letter when you come.” “I may have written a letter when you come that is, “I am at liberty to be in possession of the finished action of writing a letter when you come.” It is a common mode of expression to say, “I may have done such or such a thing in my time,” when he who speaks can have little doubt whether he has done the thing or not. In that case, the words may have done, cannot be considered as the praeter-perfect of the subjunctive of the verb do ; for it is nonsense to talk of liberty with respect to the performance of an action, which at the time of speaking is supposed to be past and completed. What, then, is the import of the phrase? We are persuaded that it is elliptical, and that the word say or affirm is understood: “1 may (say that I) have done such or such a thing in my time for liberty or contingency can relate to actions only as they are conceived to be present or future.

Of all the tenses, the most complex is the plusquam-perfect of this mode. It combines a past and a future time with a finished action. It may be considered as the past time both of the perfect future and the praeter-perfect of the subjunctive; for it represents an action, future and contingent at some past time, as finished before another period specified ; which period, therefore, though past at the time of speaking, was itself future with respect to the time when the futurity or contingency of the action existed. “Promisisti to scripturum fuisse si rogassem;” “You promised that you would write, if I should have asked you.” Here the futurity of the action of asking, which is represented as complete and finished, is stated as co-ecisting with the past promise ; but the action itself must be posterior to that promise. It is however supposed to be past with respect to the action of writing, which is also posterior to the promise.

Before we dismiss the subject of tenses, it may not be improper just to mention number and person; for these have place in every tense of the verb in the learned languages, and in many tenses even of the English verb. They cannot, however, be deemed essential to the verb; for affirmation is the same, whether it be made by you, by me, or by a third person, or whether it be made by one man or by a thousand. The most that can be said .is, that verbs in the more elegant languages are provided with a variety of terminations which respect the number and person of every substantive, that we may know with more precision, in a complex sentence, each particular substance, with its attendant verbal attributes. The same [7:10:662]may be said of sex with respect to adjectives. They have terminations which vary as they respect beings male or female, though it is past dispute that substances alone are susceptible of sex. We therefore pass over these matters, and all of like kind, as being rather amongst the elegancies of particular languages, and therefore to be learned from the particular grammar of each tongue, than amongst the essentials of language; which essentials alone are the subject of inquiry in a treatise on universal grammar.

Besides tenses, number, and person, in every tongue with which we are acquainted, verbs are subject to another variation, which grammarians have agreed to call mode» or moods. Of modes, as of tenses, it has been warmly disputed whether or not they be essential to language. The truth seems to be, that the only part of the verb absolutely necessary for the purpose of communicating thought is the indicative mode; for all the others, as has been well observed by Dr Gregory, are resolvable, by means of additional verbs and a word denoting the action of the pritaary verb, into circuitous expressions which fully convey their meaning.^[16. The imperative, for instance, may be resolved into a verb of commanding in the first person of the present of the indicative, and a word denoting the action of the primary verb, commonly called the infinitive mode of that verb. Thus, I nunc et versus tecum meditare canoros, and Jubco to nunc ire et tecum meditari, &c. are sentences of the very same import. The subjunctive may be resolved in the same manner by means of a verb denoting power or capacity; for credam, and possum credere, may oftéh be used indifferently. The indicative mode, however, is not thus convertible with another verb of affirming in the first person of the present of the indicative, and a word denoting the action of the primary verb; for Titius scribit, “Titius writes,” is not of the same import with dicoTitium scribere, quad Titius scribat, “1 say that Titius writes.”· The first of these sentences, as has already been shown, contains but one assertion; the second obviously contains two. Titius writes, is equivalent to Titius is writing ; I say that Titius writes, is equivalent to I asi saying that Titius is writing. The reason why the imperative and sultjunctive are resolvable into expressions into which the indicative cannot be resolved, will be seen when the import of each of those modes is ascertained. ] But such expressions continually repeated would make language very prolix and wholly devoid of animation; and for this reason the import of each of the commonly received modes is a subject worthy of the philologist’s investigation. About the number of modes, whether necessary or only expedient, as well as about the import of each, the writers on grammar have differed in opinion. Mr Harris, one of the most celebrated of those writers, has enumerated four modes of the verb, besides the infinitive: viz. the indicative or declarative, to assert what we think certain; the potential or subjunctive, for the purposes of whatever we think contingent; the interrogative, when we are doubtful, to procure us information; and the requisitive, to assist us in the gratification of our volitions. The requisitive, too, according to him, appears under two distinct species; either as it is imperative to inferiors, or precative to superiors. For establishing such a variety of modes as this, there appears to be no sort of foundation whatever. The same reasoning which induced the author to give us an interrogative and requisitive mode, might have made him give us a hortative, a dissuasive, a volitive, and innumerable other modes, with which no language is acquainted. But besides perplexing his reader with useless distinctions, we cannot help thinking that Mr Harris has fallen into some mistakes with regard to the import of those modes which are universally acknowledged. According to him, assertion is the characteristic of the indicative, and that which distinguishes it from the subjunctive or potential; but this is certainly not true, for, without an assertion, the verb cannot be used in any mode. Of this the learned author indeed seems to have been aware, when he observed respecting the subjunctive mode, that it is employed “when we do not strictly assert,” and that “it implies but a dubious and conjectural assertion.” The truth is, that the assertion implied in this mode, though it is not concerning the same thing, is equally positive and absolute with that conveyed by the indicative. An example quoted by himself should have set him right as to this matter:

Sed tacitus pasci si posset corvus, haberet Plus dapis.

Who does not feel that the assertion contained in haberet is as absolute and positive as any assertion whatever?

Perhaps we may be asked to define what we mean by a mode. We know not that we can define it to the satisfaction of all. Thus much, however, seems to be obvious, that those variations which are called modes do not imply different modifications of the action of the verb. Amo, Ämem, Ama, do not signify modes of loving; for modes of loving are, loving much, loving little, loving long, loving short, and the like. Shall we then get over the difficulty by saying, with Mr Harris, that “modes exhibit some way or other the soul and its affections ?” This is certainly true, but it is nothing to the purpose; for it does not distinguish the meaning of mode from the object of language in general, all languages being intended to exhibit the soul and its affections.

Grammatical modes of verbs have been defined by Dr Gregory to be “concise modes of expressing some of those combinations of thoughts which occur most frequently, and are most important and striking.” This is a just observation; but perhaps he would have given a more complete definition had he said, that grammatical modes of verbs are concise modes of expressing some of those combinations of thoughts which occur most frequently, and of which assertion is an essential part.^[17. Every verb, except the simple verb am, art, is, &c. expresses without modes a combination of thoughts, namely, affirmation and an attribute. The affirmation, however, is alone essential to the verb, for the attribute may be expressed by other words. It is indeed extremely probable, that in the earliest ages of the world, the affirmation and attribute were always expressed by different words; and that afterwards, for the sake of conciseness, one word, compounded perhaps of these two, was made to express both the affirmation and the attribute; hence arose the various classes of verbs, active, passive, and neuter. Of a process of this kind there are evident signs in the Greek and some other tongues. But the improvers of language stopped not here. The same love of conciseness induced them to modify the compound verb itself, that it might express various combinations of thought still more complex; but in aU these combinations assertion was of necessity included; for if the word had ceased to assert, it. would have ceased to be a verb of any kind. ] This indeed seems to be the real account of the matter, especially if our notion of the nature of verb be well founded, that its essence consists in affirmation. And in this opinion we are the more confirmed, from a conviction that no man ever employs language on any occasion but for the purpose of affirming something. The speaker may affirm something directly of the action itself, something of the agent’s power or capacity to perform it, or something of his own desire that it should be performed, but still he must affirm. If this be so, then are all the modes equally indicative. Some may be indicative of perceptions, and others of volitions; but still they all contain indications. On this idea the three foregoing modes of ano will be thus distinguished: When a man indicates his present feeling of the passion of love, he uses the first; when he indicates his present capacity of feeling it, he uses the second; and when he indicates his present desire that the [7:10:663]person to whom he is speaking would entertain that passion, he uses the third.

As to what Mr Harris calls the interrogative mode, he observes that it has a near affinity to the indicative. It has in fact not only a near affinity to it, but, as far as language is concerned, there is not between the one and the other the slightest difference. For, in written language, take away the mark of interrogation, and, in spoken language, the peculiar tone of voice, and the interrogative and indicative modes appear precisely the same. That such should be the case is extremely natural. To illustrate this, let us for once speak in the singular number, and conceive one of our readers to be present. “J assert a thing, taking the truth of it for granted; but if you know me to be wrong, I presume that you will set me right.” In this case, assertion produces the same effect as interrogation. Instances of the same kind perpetually occur in common conversation. An acquaintance says to me, “You took a ride this morning.” I answer yes or no, according to the case; and the same effect is produced as if he had said, “Did you take a ride this morning?” In this way simple assertions would at first be employed to procure information wanted. Fecisti, you did such a thing; feãsti ne, you did it not; either would produce the proper reply, and the information wanted would be gained.^[18. Of a question put in the form of an assertion we have a remarkable instance in the gospel of St Matthew, when Christ stood before tilate, the governor asked him, saying, 2« 1; ∙ ¢enXivr “Thou art the king of the Jews.” That this sentence was pronounced with a view to obtain some answer, is evident from the context; yet it is as plainly an affirmation, though uttered probably in a scoffing tone, as the serious confession of Nathaniel, ï« L ό (Una∣w to« lσξ<sλ, “Thou art the king of Israel” Had not the question been put in this form, which asserts Christ to be the king of the Jews, the reply could not have been I« λrχm, “Thou readest for without an assertion the governor would have said nothing. .(See Dr Campbell’s Translation of the Gospels, where the form used in the original is with great propriety retained in the version.) ] This being observed as language improved, men would accompany such a sentence with a peculiar tone of voice, or other marks, to signify more unequivocally that they wanted information, or that such information was the only object of their speech. Further progress in refinement would lead them to alter the position of the words of a sentence when they meant to ask a question, as we do in English, saying, when we assert, “ You have read Euripides,” and when we interrogate, “ Have you read Euripides ?”

In Greek and Latin, questions are asked commonly enough by the particles ìı and an. These particles we know to be exactly equivalent to the English particle if, at least to the sense in which that particle is commonly taken. An fecisti, is “If you did it and the sentence may either be an abbreviation for die an fecisti, “tell me if you did it or an may perhaps be, as if certainly is, the imperative mode of some obsolete verb equivalent to give ; and in that case, an fecisti will be a complete interrogative sentence, signifying, “ you did it, give that'.' But of the interrogative mode of Mr Harris we have said enough; perhaps our readers will think too much, since it is a useless distinction not found in any language. It will, however, be proper to say something of his precative mode, as far as it is the same with the optative mode of the Greek grammarians.

And nothing, we think, can be clearer, than that the Greek optative constitutes no distinct mode of the verb, whatever meaning be annexed to the word mode. The different tenses of the optative are evidently nothing but the past tenses of the corresponding tenses of the subjunctive. Thus, pres, suby. rurra, I may strike; pres, optat. ruwrw∕4∕, I might strike, &c. This is proved to be indubitably the case by the uniform practice of the Greek writers. Examples might be found without number were one to read in search of them. The following sentence will illustrate our meaning: ’ Ejχ<nreu ’Aŵjra/w ha β<∏6ωβι ro ∣ i Aζγtio ∣ i, “The Athenians come that they may assist the Argives.” Here the leading verb iξχmra ∣ being of the present tense, the dependent verb βoηDωa ∣ is the present subjunctive. But change the former to the past time, and the latter must also be changed. ’ Hjxorro ’Aŵp¢uw ha βtnio ∣ w mt 'Atytnuf, “ The Athenians came that they might assist the Argives.” Here it is plain that βonihitv, the present of the optative, is the past time of βor ∣ 6ωβι, the present of the subjunctive; and the same holds in other instances.

It is almost unnecessary to add, that when this mode is employed to denote a wish, the wish is not expressed by the verb, but is understood. Such abbreviated expressions to denote a wish are common in all languages. Thus, in Greek, ’ Tμw μt∙ tιm ìonr, iλuμr>a itμaτ' lχtsnt ’ E**l(mw Tlfuųuu rshn, «. τ. λ.

signifies, “The gods might give you (or, as we say in English, changing the position of the verb, might the gods give you) to destroy,” &C. So in Latin, Ut to omnes dii deceque perdant, “That all the gods and goddesses may destroy you.” Again, in English, “O that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears.” In all these, and such like sentences, words equivalent to I wish, I pray, are understood. In Greek a wish is sometimes introduced by the particle ìı or i ∣ rt, if; as in Homer,

Έ/Ζ 0p∣λιt r’hµm τ iuι>αι, iγa ∣ u ∣ rìrAtriiu.

“ /fit had been your fate not to be born, or to die unmarried.” The supplement is, “It would have been fortunate for your country,” or some such thing. In like manner, a poor person not uncommonly entreats a favour by saying, “Sir, if you would be so good.” Here he stops; but the completion of his sentence is, “it would make me happy.” In all these cases a wish is not formally expressed by the speaker, but inferred by the hearer. They are therefore instances of that tendency which mankind universally discover to abbreviate their language, especially in cases where the passions or feelings are interested.

The interrogative and optative modes being set aside as superfluous, it would appear from our investigation, that the real distinct modes of the verb, which are found in the most copious and varied language, are only three; the indicative, the subjunctive, and the imperative: And these are all that can be considered as necessary ; the first to indicate the speaker’s feeling or acting, the Second to indicate his capacity of feeling or acting, and the third to indicate his desire that the person to whom he speaks should feel or act.

Here again we have the misfortune to differ in opinion from Dr Gregory, who seems to think that a greater number of modes, if not absolutely necessary, would, at any rate, be highly useful. His words are, “All languages, I believe, are defective in respect of that variety and accuracy of combination and of distinction, which we know with infallible certainty take place in thought. Nor do I know of any particular in which language is more deficient than in the expressing of those energies or modifications of thought; some of which always are, and all of which might be, expressed by the grammatical moods of verbs. Of this there cannot be a clearer proof than the well-known fact, that we are obliged to express by the same mood very different modifications or energies of thought. As, for instance, in the case of the grammatical mood [7:10:664]called the imperative, by which we express occasionally prayer to God, command to a slave, request to a superior, advice to an equal or to any one, order as from an officer to his subaltern, supplication to one whom we cannot resist” If these be, as the author calls them, specific differences of thought, he will not surely object to their being all ranked under one genus, which may be called desire. That the internal feelings which prompt us to pray to God, to command a slave, to request a superior, to advise an equal, to give an order to an inferior, and to supplicate one whom we cannot resist, are all different in degree, cannot be denied. Each of them, however, is desire; and the predication by which the desire is made known to the person whom we address, is the same in all, when we utter a prayer as when we utter a command, when we request as when we supplicate. But predication alone is that which constitutes the verb; for desire by itself, however modified, can be expressed only by an abstract noun; and the mere energy of desire, when not applied to a particular agent, can be expressed only by a participle, or by what is commonly, though improperly, called the infinitive mode. Now it is certainly conceivable that a few shades of meaning, or a few degrees of one general energy, might be marked by corresponding variations of such verbs as combine energy with predication;^[19. Dr Gregory seems to think, that not merely a few, but a vast number, of these energies might be so marked. “ Affirming, deny, iny, testifying, foretelling, asking, answering, wishing, hoping, expecting, believing, knowing, doubting, supposing, stipulating, being able, commanding, praying, requesting, supplicating, loving, hating, fearing, despairing, being accustomed, wondering, admiring, wavering, swearing, advising, refusing, exhorting, dissuading, encouraging, promising, threatening, &c.” says he, “all admit very readily of being combined with the general import of a verb.” And he adds, that “if every one of them had been expressed in all languages by variations as striking as those of rw™, τmmipι, and nm, they must have been acknowledged as distinct moods of the verb.” If all these words denote different energies of thought, which, however, may be doubted, and if all those different energies, with many others for which, as the author justly observes, it is not easy to find names, could, like capacity and desire, be combined with the general, action or energy of one verb; and if those combinations could be marked by corresponding variations of that verb; we should indeed acknowledge such variations to be distinct modes, or modes of modes, of the verb. But we doubt much if all this be possible, we are certain that it would be no improvement; for it seems to be evident, either that, in some <ιf the modes, the radical letters of the original verb must be changed, and then it would cease to be the same verb; or that many of the modes must be expressed by words of very unmanageable length; not to mention, that the additional complication introduced by so many minute distinctions into a part of speech already exceedingly complex, would render the import of the verb absolutely unintelligible to nine tenths even of those who are justly styled the learned. ] and there could be no great impropriety in calling those variations modes, or rather modes of modes; but that such a multiplication of modes would be an improvement in language, is by no means evident. The verb, with the modes and tenses which it has in all languages, is already a very complex part of speech, which few are able, and still fewer inclined, to analyse; and it would surely be of no advantage to make it more complex by the introduction of new modes, especially when those degrees of energy which could be marked by them are with equal and perhaps greater precision marked, in the living speech, by the different tones of voice adapted to them by nature; and, in written language, by the reader’s general knowledge of the subject, and of the persons who may be occasionally introduced. If there be any particular delicacy of sentiment or energy which cannot thus be made known, it is better to express it by a name appropriated to itself, together with the simple and original verb of affirmation, than to clog the compound verb with such a multiplicity of variations as would render the acquisition of every language as difficult as is said to be that of the Chinese written characters. The indicative, subjunctive, and imperative, are therefore all the modes of the verb which to us appear to be in any degree necessary or expedient; and they are in fact all the modes that are really found in any language with which we are acquainted.

For the infinitive, as has already been observed, seems on every account to be improperly styled a mode. To that name it has no title which we can perceive, except that its termination sometimes (for even this is not universally true) differs in the learned languages from the terminations of the other parts of the verb. Nay, if affirmation be, as it has been proved to be, the very essence of verb, it will follow that the infinitive is no part of the verb at all; for it expresses no affirmation. It forms no complete sentence by itself, nor even when joined to a noun, unless it be aided by some real part of a verb either expressed or understood. Scribo, scribebam, scripsi, scripseram, scribam, scripsero, “I am writing, I was writing, I have written, I had written, I shall write, I shall have written,” contain each of them an affirmation, and constitute a complete sentence; but scribere “to write,” scripsisse “to have written,” affirm nothing, and are not more applicable to any one person than to another. In a word, the infinitive is nothing more than an abstract noun, ^[20. In our idea of the infinitive, we have the good fortune to agree with the learned Ruddiman, whose words are, “Non inepte hic modus a veteribus quibusdam verbi nomen est appellatum. Est enim, si non vere ac semper, quod nonnulli volunt, nomen substantivum, significatione certe ei maxime affinis; ejusque vices sustinct per omnes casus. Et quidem manifeste substantivum videtur, cum adjectivum ei additur neutri generis; ut, Cic. Att. xiii. 28, Cum vivere ipsum turpe sit nobis. Pers. v. S3, Velle suum cuique est. Cic. Fin. i. 1, Totum hoc displicet philosophari. Petron. c. 52, Meum intelligere nulla pecunia vendo. Item, absque adjectivo, ut Ovid. Met. ii. 483, Posse loqui cripitur, id est, potestas loquendi. Plaut. Bacch. i. 2. 50, Hic vereri perdidit, id est, verecundiam. Cic. Tuse. v. 38, Loquor de docto homine et erudito, cui vivere est cogitare, id est, cujus vita est cogitatio.” See Grammatica: Latina Institutiones, pars secunda, lib-i. cap. 2, where the reader will find examples of the infinitive used by the best Roman writers as a substantive noun in every case. This opinion ofRuddiman and the ancient grammarians has been controverted with much ingenuity by Dr Gregory, who seems to think that in the infinitive alone we should look for the essence of the verb divested of every accidental circumstance, time only excepted. If this be indeed the case, almost every thing which we have said of the verb, its tenses, and its modes, is erroneous; and he who takes his principles of grammar from the Encyclopaedia Britannica will fill his head with a farrago of absurdities. But it may without much difficulty be shown, that the error does not attach to the doctrine respecting the infinitive, which has been stated and illustrated in this article, but to the strange inversion of all recognised principle involved in the notion which Dr Gregory has espoused, apparently by reason of its novelty alone. The Doctor acknowledges (Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, vol. ii. liter, class, p. 195), that the infinitive is most improperly called a’mode, and on that account he thinks we ought to turn our thoughts exclusively to it, “when we endeavour to investigate the general import of the verb, with a view to ascertain the accident which it denotes, and be led, step by step, to form a distinct notion of what is common in the accidents of all verbs, and what is peculiar in the accidents of the several classes of them, and thereby be enabled to give good definitions, specifying the essence of the verb,” &c. It may be true, that to the infinitive exclusively we should turn our attention when we wish to ascertain the accident denoted by a particular verb or class of verbs; that is, the kind of action, passion, or state of being, of which, superadded to affirmation, that verb or class of verbs is expressive; but in accidents of this kind it may be doubted if there be any thing that with propriety can be said to be common to all verbs. There seems indeed to be nothing common to all verbs but that which is essential to them, and by which they are distinguished from every other part of speech; but every kind of action, passion, and state of being, may be completely expressed by participles and abstract nouns, and therefore in such accidents we cannot find the essence of the verb, because surh accidents distinguish it not from other parts of speech, were a man called upon to specify the essence of verse or metre, he would not say that it consists in the meaning of the words, or in the using of these words according to the rules of syntax. In every kind of verse where words are used, they have indeed a meaning, and in all good verses they are grammatically constructed; but this is likewise the case in prose, and therefore it cannot he the essence of verse. The essence of verse must consist in something which is not to be found in prose, namely, a certain harmonic succession of sounds and number of syllables; and the essence of the verb must likewise consist in something which is not to be found in any other part of speech, and that is nothing but affirmation. But if affirmation be the very essence of the verb, it would surely be improper, when we endeavour to ascertain the general import of that part of speech, to turn our thoughts exclusively to a word which implies no affirmation; for what does not affirm, cannot in strictness of truth be either a verb or the mode of a verb. In the same page it is said that “the infinitive denotes that kind of thought or combination of thoughts which is common to all the other modes.” In what sense this is true we are unable to conceive; it denotes indeed the same accident, but certainly not the same thought or combination of thoughts. Iu the examples quoted. Non cit vivebb, uã vaxere vita, the infinitives have evidently the effect of abstract nouns, and not of verbs; for though vivcre and valere express the same states of being with vivo and valeo, they by no means express the same combination of thoughts, Vivo and valco affirm that I am riving, and that am well; and he who utters these words must think not of life and health in the abstract, but of life and health as belonging to himself. Virere and vakre, on the other hand, affirm nothing; and he who utters them thinks only of the states of living and of being in health, without applying them to any particular person. The learned author of The Origin and Progress of Language having said that the infinilive is used either as a noun, or that it serves to connect the verb with another verb or noun, and so is useful in syntax, the doctor combats this opinion, and infers that the infinitive is truly a verb, because “the thought expressed by means of it may be expressed in synonymous and convertible phrases, in difierent languages, by means of other parts or moods of the verb.” Of these synonymous and convertible phrases he gives several examples, the first of which ∙is taken from Hamlet’s soliloquy. “ To he or not to be, that is the question,” he thinks equivalent in meaning to, “The question is, whether we shall be or shall not be." But we are persuaded he is mistaken. “whether we shall be or shall not be,” involves a question, whether we shall exist at some future and indefinite time; but the subject of Hamlet’s debate with himself was not, whether, if his conscious existence should be interrupted, it would be afterwards at some future and indefinite time restored, but whether it was to continue uninterrupted by his exit from this world. This, we think,, must be self-evident to every reader of the soliloquy. It is likewise obvious that the word “question” in this sentence does not signify interrogatory, but subject of debate, or matter to be examined ; and that the word “that” serves no other purpose than to complete the verse, and give additional emphasis, perhaps, to an inquiry so important. “ To be or not to be, that is the question,” is therefore equivalent in aU respects to “The continuance or non-continuance of my existence is the matter to be examined and the infinitive is here indisputably used as an abstract noun in the nominative case. Should it be said that, the doctor may have taken the sentence by itself; unconnected with the subject of Hamlet’s soliloquy, we reply, that the supposition is impossible; for, independently of the circumstances with which they are connected, the words “ To be or not to be" have no perfect meaning, were it not for the subject of the soliloquy, from which every reader supplies what is wanting to complete the sense, it might be asked, “ To be or not to be" — what 9 A coward, a murderer, a king, or a corpse? Questions all equally reasonable, and which in that case could not be answered. with the same view, to prove that the infinitive is truly a verb, the doctor proceeds to remark upon the following phrases, Dico credo, puto, TUium existera, valere, jacere, cecidisse, procubuisse, projecisse Mxvium, projectum fuisse a M<nw ; which, he says, have the very same meaning with dico quod Titius existât, quod jaceat, qiunl ceciderit, &c. He adds, that “the infinitives, as thus used, acquire not any further meaning, in addition to the radical import of the verb with tense, like the proper moods; but the subjunctives after quod lose their peculiar meaning as moods, and signify no more than bare infinitives.” In the sense in which this observation is made by the author, the very reverse of it seems to be the truth. The infinitives, as thus used, acquire, at least in the mind of the reader, something like the power of affirmation, which they certainly have not when standing by themselves; whereas the subjunctives neither lose nor acquire any meaning by being placed after quod. Dico credo, puto, Titium existere, valere, jacere, Ac. when translated literally, signify, I sap, believe, think, Titius to exist, to be well, to lie along ; a mode of speaking which, though now not elegant, was common with the best writers in the days of Shakspeare, and is frequently to be found in the writings of Warburton at a much later period. Dico credo, puto, quod Titius existât, quod jaceat, &c. signifies literally, I tap, believe, think, that Titius may exist, may lie along, &c. Remove the verbs in the indicative mode from the former set of phrases, and it will be found that the infinitives had acquired a meaning, when conjoined with them, which they have not when left by themselves; for Titium existerβ, jacere, “Titius to exist, to lie along,” have no complete meaning, because they affirm nothing. On the other hand, when the indicative verbs are removed, to- l gether with the wonder-working quod, from the latter set of phrases, the meaning of the subjunctives remains in all respects as it was before the removal; for Titius existât, jaceat, Ac. signify, Titius may exist, may lie along, as well when they stand by themselves as when they form the final clauses of a compound sentence. Every one knows that quod, though often called a conjunction, is always in fact the relative pronoun. Dico credo, puto, quod Titius existât, must therefore be construct! thus: Titius existât (est id) quod dico credo, &c. “Titius may exist—is that thing, that proposition, which I say, believe, think.” In the former set of phrases, the infinitives are used as abstract nouns in the accusative case, denoting, in conjunction with Titium, one complex conception, the existence, <⅛c. of Titius : Dico credo, puto, “I say, believe, think and the object of my speech, belief, thought, is Titium existera, “the existence of Titus.” z , t . . i In confirmation, of the same idea, that the infinitive is truly a verb, Dr Gregory quotes frbm Horace a passage, which, had we thought quotations necessary, we should have urged in support of our own opinion: Nec quicquam tibi prodest Aërias tentasse domos, animoque rotundum Percurrisse polum, morituro. To our apprehension, nothing can be clearer than that tentasse and percurrisse are here used as nouns; for if they be not, where shall we find a nominative to the verb prodest? It was certainly what was signified by tentasse aërias domus, animoque rotundum percurrisse polum, that is said to have been no advantage to Archytas at his death. This, indeed, if there could be any doubt about it, would be made evident by the two prose versions which-the professor subjoins to these beautiful lines. The first of them is as follows: Nec quicquam tibi prodest quod aërias domos tentaveris, et animo percurreris polum; which must be thus constructed: Tentaveris aërias domos, et percurreris animo polum (est id) quod nec quicquam tibi prodest. This version, however, is not perfectly accurate; for it contains two propositions, whereas Horace’s lines contain but one. The second, which, though it may be a crabbed and inelegant sentence, expresses the poet’s sense with more precision, is in these words: Nec quicquam Obi prodest morituro tua tentatio domuum aëriarum, et cursus tuus circa polum. Having observed, with truth, that this sentence has the very same meaning with the lines of Horace, Dr Gregory asks, “why are not tentatio and cursus reckoned verbs as well as tentasse and percurrisse ?” Let those answer this question who believe that any of these words are truly verbs; for they are surely, as he adds, all very near akin; indeed so near, that the mind, when contemplating the import of each, cannot perceive the difference. Meanwhile, we beg leave in our turn to ask, why are not tentasse and percurrisse reckoned abstract nouns as well as tentatio and cursus ĩ To this question it is not easy to conceive what answer can be returned upon the doctor’s principles. In his theory there is nothing satisfactory; and what has not been done by himself, we need scarcely expect from any of his followers. On the other hand, our principles furnish a very obvious reason for excluding tentatio and cursus from the class of verbs; it is, because these words express no predication. Tentasse and percurrisse indeed denote predication no more than tentatio and cursus ; and therefore upon the same principle we exclude them likewise from a class to which, if words are to be arranged according to their import, they certainly do not belong. ] denoting the simple [7:10:665]energy of the verb, in conjonction with time; and m not a mode as far as we can conceive of any thing. Thus, Scire tuum nihil ext, is the same with Scientia tua nihil est; and “Death is certain,” is identical with “To die is certain."

Before we dismiss the subject of modes, it may not be improper to take nθt⅛e of the connection which Mr Harris, after Apollonius, has found between commanding and futurity. “Intreating and commanding,” he says, “have a necessary respect to the future only. For what have they to do with the present and the past, the natures of which are immutable and necessary ?" This is surely confounding[7:10:666] commands with the execution of commands. But the learned writer proceeds to informs us, that “it is from the connection of futurity with commands that the future of the indicative is sometimes used for the imperative mode.” The connection of which he speaks appears to us entirely imaginary; for futurity has nothing to do with commands, though it may with the execution of them. The present time is the time of commanding, the future of obeying. But supposing the connection real, it would not account for the future tenses being used imperatively. For although it were true, as it is evidently false, that commands are future, it would not follow that the relation is convertible, or that employing the future should imply a command. The principle upon which such expressions as, Thou shalt not kill, come to have the force of a command, seems to be this: When a person, especially one possessed of authority, asserts that an action depending on the will of a free agent, and therefore in its own nature contingent, shall or shall not actually take place; what are we to conclude from such an assertion? Why, surely it is natural to conclude that it is his will, his command, that his assertion be verified. The English word shall, if we be well informed, denoted originally obligation; a sense in which its past tense should is still commonly employed. In English, therefore, the foregoing process of inferring a command from an assertion of futurity seems to have been reversed; and the word shall, from denoting a command or obligation, has come to denote futurity simply.

Having considered the verb in its essence, its tenses, and its modes, we might seem to have exhausted the subject; but there is still something more to be done. Grammarians have distinguished verbs into several species; and it remains with us to inquire upon what principle in nature this distinction is made, and how far it proceeds. Now it must be obvious, that if predication be the essence of verbs, all verbs as such must be of the same species; for predication is the same in every proposition, under every possible circumstance, and by whomsoever it is made. But the greater part of verbs contain the predicate as well as the predication of a proposition; or, to speak in common language, they denote an attribute as well as an affirmation. Thus, lego is “I am reading” ambulo, “ I am walking,” sto, “I am standing” verbero, “I am striking,” verberor, “I am stricken.” But the attributes expressed by these verbs are evidently of different kinds; some consisting in action, some in suffering, and some in a state of being which is neither active nor passive. Hence the distinction of verbs, according to the attributes which they denote, into active, passive, and neuter. Lego, which is an assertion that I am employed in the act of reading, is an active verb; verberor, which is an assertion that I am suffering under the rod, is a passive verb, because it denotes a passion; and sto, which is an assertion that I am standing still, is said to be a neuter verb, because it denotes neither action nor passion. But it is self-evident that there cannot be action without an agent, nor passion without a passive being; neither can we make a predication of any kind, though it denote neither action nor passion, without predicating of something. All verbs, therefore, whether active, passive, or neuter, have a necessary reference to some noun expressive of the substance of which the attribute denoted by the verb is predicated. This noun, which in all languages must be in the nominative case, is said to be the nominative of the verb; and in those languages in which the verb has person and number, it must in these respects agree with its nominative.

Of action, and consequently of verbs denoting action, there are obviously two kinds. There is an action which passes from the agent to some subject upon which he is employed, and there is an action which respects no object beyond the agent himself. Thus lego and ambulo are verbs which equally denote action; but the action of lego refers to some external object as well as to the agent; for when a man is reading, he must be reading something, a book, a newspaper, or a letter, whereas the action of ambulo is confined wholly to the agent; for when a man is walking he is employed upon nothing beyond himself, his action produces no effect upon any thing external. These two species of verbs have been denominated transitive and intransitive; a designation extremely proper, as the distinction which gave rise to it is philosophically just. Verbs of both species are active; but the action of those only which are called transitive respects an external object; and therefore in those languages of which the nouns have cases, it is only after verbs which are transitive as well as active, that the noun denoting the subject of the action is put in the accusative or objective case. Verbs which are intransitive, though they be really active, are in the structure of sentences considered as neuter, and govern no case.

So much, then, for that most important of all words, the verb. We proceed now to the consideration of participles, adjectives, and adverbs, which, as they have a near relation to one another, we shall treat of under one head or division.

V.— Of Participles, Adjectives, and Adverbs.

1. Of Participles.

The nature of verbs being understood, that of participles is not of difficult comprehension. Every verb, except that which is called the substantive verb, is expressive of an attribute, of time, and of an assertion. Now if we take away the assertion, and thus destroy the verb, there will remain the attribute and the time; and these combined make the essence of that species of words called participles. Thus, take away the assertion from the verb γ1afu, wrilelh, and there remains the participle γζaφωr, writing, which, without the assertion, denotes the same attribute and the same time. In the same manner, by withdrawing the assertion, we discover yja∙ψαs, written, in syga∙ψs, wrote ; yja∙ψan, about to write, in yfa∙ψw, shall be writing. This is the doctrine of Mr Harris respecting participles; and, in our opinion, it is equally elegant, perspicuous, and just. But as it has been controverted by an author of some note in the republic of letters, we should perhaps be wanting in duty to our readers were we to pass his objections wholly unnoticed.

It is acknowledged by Dr Beattie, the writer to whom we allude, that the view which we have taken is the most convenient in which the participle can be considered in universal grammar; but he affirms that present participles do not always express present time, nor preterite participles past time; nay, that participles have often no connection with time at all. He thus exemplifies his assertion in Greek, in Latin, and in English:

“When Cebes says, Erυγχa,n ∣ w τsξ ∣ rarmwrις h rγ rou Xjovou itļ'įi, ‘ We were walking in the temple of Saturn,’ the participle of the present walking is, by means of the verb [7:10:667]were, applied to time past, and therefore of itself cannot be understood to signify any sort of time.” Again, after observing, that in English we have but two simple participles, such as writing and written, of which the former is generally considered as the present and the latter as the past, the doctor ad⅛, but “the participle writing, joined to a verb of different tenses, may denote either past or future action; for we may say not only, 1 am writing, but also, I was writing yesterday, and Zshall be writing to-morrow and hence he infers that no time whatever is denoted by the present participle. But this is obviously a hasty inference, drawn from the doctrine of absolute time and a definite present, which we have already shown to be groundless and contradictory. When we speak simply of an action as present, we must mean that it is present with respect to something besides itself, or we speak a jargon which is unintelligible; but we do not ascertain the time of its presence. From the very nature of time, an action may be present now, it may have been present formerly, or it may be present at some future period; but the precise time of its presence cannot be ascertained even by the present of the indicative of the verb itself; yet who ever supposed that the present of the indicative denotes no time ř The participle of the present represents the action of the verb as going on; but an action cannot be going on without being present in time with something. When, therefore, Cebes says, “We were walking in the temple of Saturn,” he represents the action of the verb walking as present with something; but by using the verb expressive of his assertion in a past tense, he gives us to understand that the action was not present with any thing at the period of his speaking, but at some portion of time prior to that period; and what that portion of time was, must be collected from the subsequent parts of his discourse. The same thing may also be said of the phrases I was writing yesterday, and I shall be writing to-morrow. They indicate that the action of the verb write was present with me yesterday, and will again be present with me to-morrow. The action and the time of action are denoted by the participle; that action is affirmed to belong to me by means of the verb; and the time at which it belonged to me is pointed out by the tenses of that verb, am, was, and shall be. All this is so plain, that it could not have escaped Dr Beattie’s penetration, if he had not hastily adopted the absurd and contradictory notion of a definite present.

Of the truth of his assertion respecting past participles he gives a Greek and a Latin example. The former is taken from St Mark, viz. ó uffriuaας βω6∙ηβιra ∣ ; and the latter is that which is commonly called the perfect future of the passive verb amor, amatus fuero. In the first instance, he says that the participle, though belonging to the aorist of the past time, must be rendered either by the indefinite present, “he who believeth ∙ n or by the future, “he who will believe and the reason which he gives for this rendering of the word is, that “the believing here spoken of is considered as posterior in time to the enunciation of the promise.” This is indeed true, but it is not to the .purpose; for with the enunciation of the promise the time of the participle has no manner of concern. The time of -rιβnυβat depends entirely upon the time of βu⅛βιraι, with respect to which it must undeniably be past. Our Lord is not here asserting, that he who shall believe at the day of final retribution shall be saved, but that he who shall on that day be found to have believed in time past shall be saved; and if the participle had not been expressive of a finished action and a past time, the whole sentence would have conveyed a meaning not friendly to the interests of the gospel. In like manner, the time of amatus is referred, not to the time of speaking, but to the time of fuero, with respect to which, who sees not that it is past? The two words, taken together, contain a declaration, that he who utters them shall, at some time posterior to that of speaking, have been loved; the expression shall have been loved denotes two times, both future with respect to the time of speaking; but when the time denoted by shall have comes to be present, that of the participle loved must be past, for it is declared that the action of it shall then be complete and finished.

We conclude, then, that it is essential to a participle to express both an attribute and time; and that such words as denote no time, though they may be in the form of participles, as doctus, “learned,” eloquens, “eloquent,” &c. belong to another part of speech, which we now proceed to consider.

2. Of Adjectives.

The nature of verbs and participles being understood, that of adjectives becomes easy. A verb implies, as we have said, an attribute, time, and an assertion; a participle implies only an attribute and time; and an adjective implies only an attribute as belonging to some substance. In other words, an adjective has no assertion, and it denotes only such an attribute as has not its essence either in motion or its privation. Thus, in genera), the attributes of quantity, quality, and relation, such as many, few, great, little, black, white, good, bad, double, treble, and the like, are all denoted by adjectives.

To understand the import and the use of this species of words, it must be observed that every adjective is resolvable into a substantive and an expression of connection equivalent to of. Thus, a good man is a man of goodness ; where we see the attribute denoted by the adjective fully expressed by an abstract noun. But it is evident that the noun goodness does not express the whole meaning of the adjective good ; for every adjective expresses not only an attribute, but also the connection between the attribute and its substance; whereas in the abstract noun, the attribute is considered as a substance unconnected with any other substance.

In the next place, it is to be observed, that the connection expressed by adjectives, like that expressed by of, is of a nature so general and indefinite, that the particular kind of connection must, in some languages, be inferred from our previous knowledge of the objects between which it subsists, or it wall for ever remain unknown. This might be proved by a variety of examples, but will perhaps be sufficiently evident from the following: Color salubris signifies colour that indicates health; exercitatio salubris, exercise that preserves health; victus salubris, food that improves health; medicina salubris, medicine that restores health. In all these examples the connection expressed by the adjective form of salubris is different; and though it may be known from previous experience, there is nothing in any of the expressions themselves by which it can be ascertained. Thus, adjectives are each significant of an attribute and connection; but the particular kind of connection is ascertained by experience. The usual effect of adjectives in language, is to modify or particularize a general term, by adding some quality or circumstance which may distinguish the object meant by that term, from the other objects of the same species. I have occasion, for example, to speak of a particular man, of whose name I am ignorant. The word man is too general for my purpose, it being applicable to every individual of the human species. In what way then do I proceed, in order to particularize it, so as to make it denote that very man whom I mean to specify? I annex or conjoin to it such words as are significant of objects and qualities with which he is connected, and which are not equally applicable to others from whom I mean to distinguish him. Thus I can say, a man of prudence or a prudent man, a wise man, a good man, a [7:10:668]. brave man, and so on. By means of these additions the general term man is limited or modified, and can be applied only to certain men to whom belong the attributes expressed by the adjectives prudent, wise, good, and brave. If it be stiÚ too general for my purpose, I can add to it other qualities and circumstances, till I make it so particular as to be applicable to but one individual man in the universe.

This is the way in which adjectives are commonly used, but this is not the only way. Instead of being employed to modify a substantive, they sometimes appear as the principal words in the sentence, when the sole use of the substantive seems to be to modify the abstract noun, contained under the adjective to which that substantive is joined. In order to understand this, it will be necessary to attend to the following observations.

It may be laid down as a general proposition, that when any term or any phrase is employed to denote a complex conception, the mind has a power of considering, in what order it pleases, the simple ideas of which the complex conception is composed. To illustrate this observation by an example: The word eques in Latin denotes a complex conception, of which the constituent simple ideas are those of a man and a horse; with this connection subsisting between them, that the man is conceived as on the back of the horse. In the use of this word, it is well known that the idea first in order, as being the principal subject of the proposition, is commonly the man on the back of the horse; but it is not always so, for the mind may consider the horse as the principal object. Thus, when Virgil says,

Eraena Pelethronii Lapithae gyrosque dedere, Impositi dorso; atque equitem docuere sub armis Intultare solo, et gressus glomerare tuperoos — the energies attributed to the object signified by equitem make it evident that the horse, and not the man, is meant; for it is not the property of a man, insultare solo, et gressus glomerare superbos.

The same observation holds true where the complex object is denoted by two or more words; an adjective, for instance, and a substantive. Thus in the phrase summus mons se inter nubila condit, the words summus mons represent a complex conception, of which the constituent ideas are those of height and mountain, connected together by the adjective form of summus. Either of these ideas may be the subject of the proposition; and the expression will accordingly admit of two different significations. If mans be made the subject of the proposition, the meaning will be, “the highest mountain hides itself amongst the clouds.” If the substantive included in the radical part of summus be made the subject of the proposition, the expression will signify, “the summit, or highest part, of the mountain, hides itself amongst the clouds.” The latter is the true import of the sentence.

From these observations and examples, we shall be enabled to understand the two uses of the adjective. It is either employed, as has been already observed, to restrict or modify a general term; or the abstract substantive contained in the adjective is modified by the noun, with which, in the concrete or adjective form, that abstract substantive is joined. The first may be called the direct, the second the inverse, acceptation of adjectives.

The inverse acceptation of adjectives and participles, for both are used in the same manner, has scarcely been noticed by any grammarian excepting Dr Hunter of St Andrews; yet the principle is of great extent in language. In order to explain it, we shall produce a few examples, which on any other principle it is impossible to understand. Livy, speaking of the abolition of the regal authority at Rome, says, Regnatum est Romee ab urbs conuita ad Lit bkr4Tλm annos ducentos quadraginta quatuor, “Monarchy subsisted at Rome {not from the city built, which would convey no meaning, but) from the building of the city to its deliverance.” Both the participles condita and liberatam are here used inversely; that is, the abstract substantives contained in condita and liberatam are modified or restricted by the substantives urbe and urbem, with which they unite. Again, Ovid, speaking of the contest between Ajax and Ulysses for the arms of Achilles, has these lines:

Qui, licet eloquio fidum quoque Nestora vincat, Haud tamen efficiet, detortum ut Nestora ertmen Nullum esse rear.

Here also the adjective or participle desertum is taken inversely, and the general notion of desertion contained in it is modified or rendered particular by being joined with the substantive Nestora. The meaning of the passage is, “I will never be induced to believe that the desertion of Nestor was not a crime.” Were desertum to be taken directly as an adjective modifying its substantive, the sentence must be translated, “I cannot believe that Nestor deserted was not a crime.” But it is evident that this is nonsense; as Nestor, whether deserted or not deserted, could not be a crime.

It were easy to produce many more examples of adjectives taken inversely; but these may suffice to illustrate the general principle, and to show, that without attending to it, it is impossible to understand the ancient authors. We shall produce one instance of it from Shakspeare, to evince that it is not confined to the ancient languages, though in these it is certainly more frequent than in the modern:

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, Thou canst not bite so nigh As beiu∙JHt ft>rgot ;

Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friends renumber'd not.

Here it is evident that the adjective forgot is taken inversely; for it is not a benefit, but the forgetting of a benefit, which bites more than the bitter sky; and therefore, in this passage, the adjective serves not to modify the noun, but the noun benefits is employed to modify the abstract substantive contained in the adjective forgot, which is the subject of the proposition, and the principal word in the sentence.

Had Mr Harris attended to this principle, and reflected upon what he could not but know, that all adjectives denote substances; not indeed subsisting by themselves, as those expressed by nouns, but concretely, as the attributes of other substances; he would not have classed adjectives with verbs, or have passed so severe a censure upon the grammarians for classing them with nouns. It matters very little how adjectives are classed, provided their nature and effect be understood; but they have at least as good a title to be ranked with nouns as with verbs, and in our opinion a better. To adopt Mr Harris’s Ianguage, they are homogeneous with respect to nouns, as both denote substances; they are heterogeneous with respect to yerbs, as they never do denote assertion.

Besides original adjectives, there is another class, which is formed from substantives. Thus, when we say, the party of Pompey, the style cf Cicero, the philosophy of Socrates ; in these cases the party, the style, and the philosophy spoken of, receive a stamp and character from the persons whom they respect; and those persons, therefore, perform the part of attributes. Hence they actually pass into attributives, and assume as such the form of adjectives. It is thus we say, the Pompeian party, the Ciceronian style, and the Socratic philosophy. In like manner, for a trumpet of brass, we say a brazen trumpet, and for a crown of gold, a golden crown, &c. Even pronominal substantives admit a similar mutation. Thus, instead of saying the book of me, and of thee, we say my book, and thy book; [7:10:669]and instead of saying the country of us and of you, we l say our country and your country. These words, my, thy, our, your, &c. have therefore been properly called pronominal adjectives.

It has been already observed, and must be obvious to all, that substances alone are susceptible of sex; and that therefore substantive nouns alone should have distinctions respecting gender. The same is true with respect to number and person. An attribute admits of no change in its nature, whether it belong to you or to me, to a man or a woman, to one man or to many ; and therefore the words expressive of attributes ought on all occasions, and in every situation, to be fixed and invariable. For as the qualities good and bad, black and white, are the same, whether they be applied to a man or a woman, to many or to few; so the word which expresses any one of these attributes ought in strictness to admit of no alteration, with whatever substantive it may be joined. Such is the order of nature, and that order, on this as on other occasions, the English language most strictly observes; for we say equally, a good man or a good woman ; good men or good women ; a good house or good houses. In some languages, indeed, such as Greek and Latin, of which the nouns admit of cases, and the sentences of an inverted structure, it has been found necessary to endow adjectives with the threefold distinction of gender, number, and person; but as this is only an accidental variation, occasioned by particular circumstances, and not in the least essential to language, it belongs not to our subject, but to the particular grammars of these tongues.

There is, however, one variation of the adjective, which has place in all languages, is founded in the nature of things, and properly belongs to universal grammar. It is occasioned by comparing the attribute of one substance with a similar attribute of another, and falls naturally to be explained under the next section.

3. Of Adverbs, and the Comparison of Adjectives.

As adjectives denote the attributes of substances, so there is an inferior class of words which denote the modifications of these attributes. Thus, when we say, “Cicero and Pliny were both of them eloquent ; Statius and Virgil both of them wrote the attributes expressed by the words eloquent and wrote are immediately referred to Cicero, Virgil, &c.; and as denoting the attributes of substances, these words, the one an adjective, and the other a verb, have been both called attributives of the first order. But when we say, “Pliny was moderately eloquent, but Cicero exceedingly eloquent; Statius wrote indifferently, but Virgil wrote admirably the words moderately, exceedingly, indifferently, and admirably, are not referrible to substantives, but to other attributes; that is, to the words eloquent and wrote, the signification of which they modify. Such words, therefore, having the same effect upon adjectives that adjectives have upon substantives, have been called attributives of the second order. By grammarians they have been called adverbs ,∙ and if we take the word verb in its most comprehensive signification,^[21. Aristotle and his followers called every word a verb which denotes the predicate of a proposition. This classification was certainly absurd; for it confounds not only adjectives and participles, but even substantives, with verbs ; but the authority of Aristotle was great; and hence the name of adverb, though that word attaches itself only to an aċĳective or participle, or a verb significant of an attribute, and does not attach itself to the pure verb. ] as including not only verbs properly so called, but also every species of words which, whether essentially or accidentally, are significant of the attributes of substances, we shall find the name adverb to be a very just appellation, as denoting a part of speech, the natural appendage of such verbs. So great is this dependence in grammatical syntax, that an adverb can no more subsist without its verb, that is, without some word significant of an attribute, than a verb or adjective can subsist without its substantive. It is the same here as in certain natural subjects. Every colour, for its existence, as much requires a superficies, as the superficies for its existence requires a solid body.

Amongst the attributes of substance are reckoned quantity and quality; thus we say a white garment, a high mountain, and the like. Now some of these quantities and qualities are capable of intension or remission; or, in other words, one substance may have them in a greater or less degree than another. Thus we say, a garment exceedingly white, a mountain tolerably or moderately high. Hence, then, one copious source of secondary attributes or adverbs to denote these two, that is, intension and remission; such as greatly, tolerably, vastly, extremely, indifferently.

But where there are different intensions of the same attribute, they may be compared together. Thus, if the garment A be exceedingly white, and the garment B be moderately white, we may say, the garment A is more white than the garment B. This paper is white, and snow is ìohite; but snow is more white than this paper. In these instances the adverb more not only denotes intension, but relative intension; nay, we stop not here, as we not only denote intension merely relative, but relative intension than which there is none greater. Thus we say, Sophocles was wise, Socrates was more wise than he, but Solomon was the most wise of men. Even verbs, properly so called, which denote an attribute as well as an assertion, must admit both of simple and of comparative intensions; but the ample verb to be admits of neither the one nor the other. Thus, in the following example, Fame he loveth more than riches, but virtue of all things he LOVETH most ; the words more and most denote the different comparative intensions of the attribute included under the verb loveth ; but the assertion itself, which is the essential part of the verb, admits neither of intension nor remission, and is the same in all possible propositions.

From this circumstance of quantities and qualities being capable of intension and remission, arise the comparison of adjectives, and its different degrees, which cannot well be more than the two species above mentioned; one to denote simple excess, and one to denote superlative. Were we indeed to introduce more degrees than these, we ought perhaps to introduce an infinite number, which is absurd. For why stop at a limited number, when in all subjects susceptible of intension, the intermediate excesses are in a manner infinite? Between the first simple white and the superlative whitest there are infinite degrees of more white ; and the same may be said of more great, more strong, more minute, and so on. The doctrine of grammarians about three such degrees of comparison, which they call the positive, the comparative, and the superlative, must be absurd; both because in their positive there is no comparison at all, and because their superlative is a comparative as much as their comparative itself. Examples to evince this may be met with everywhere. Socrates was the most wise of all the Athenians ; Homer was the most sublime of all poets. In this sentence Socrates is evidently compared with the Athenians, and Homer with all other poets. Again, if it be said that Socrates was more wise than any other Athenian, but that Solomon was the most wise of men, is not a comparison of Solomon with mankind in general, as plainly implied in the last clause of the sentence, as a comparison of Socrates with the other Athenians in the first?
[7:10:670]

But if both imply comparison, it may be asked, in what consists the difference between the comparative and superlative? Docs the superlative always express a greater excess than the comparative? It does not; for though Socrates was the most wise of the Athenians, yet is Solomon affirmed to have been more wise than he; so that here a higher superiority is denoted by the comparative more than by the superlative most. Is this then the difference between these two degrees, that the superlative implies a comparison of one with many, whilst tile comparative implies only a comparison of one with one ĩ No, this is not always the case neither. The Psaloust says, that “he is wiser (or more wise) than all his teachers where, though the comparative is used, there is a comparison of one with many.

The real difference between these two degrees of comparison may be explained thus :—When we use the superlative, it is in consequence of having compared individuals with the species to which they belong, or one or more species with the genus under which they are comprehended. Thus Socrates was the most wise of the Athenians, and the Athenians were the most enlightened of ancient nations. In the first clause of this sentence, Socrates, although compared with the Athenians, is at the same time considered as one of them; and in the last the Athenians, although compared with ancient nations, are yet considered as one of those nations. Hence it is that in English the superlative is followed by the preposition of, and in Greek and Latin by the genitive case of the plural number; to show that the object which has the pre-eminence is considered as belonging to that class of things with which it is compared. But when we use the comparative degree, the objects compared are set in direct opposition; and the one is considered not as a part of the other, or as comprehended under it, but as something altogether distinct and belonging to a different class. Thus, were any one to say, “Cicero was more eloquent than the Romans," he would speak absurdly; because every body knows, that of the class of men expressed by the word Romans, Cicero was one, and such a sentence would affirm that orator to have been more eloquent than himself. But when it is said that “Cicero was more eloquent than all the other Romans, or than any other Roman,” the language is proper, and the affirmation true; for though the persons spoken of were all of the same class or city, yet Cicero is here set in contradistinction to the rest of his countrymen, and is not considered as one of the persons with whom he is compared. It is for this reason that in English the comparative degree is followed by a noun governed by the word of contradistinction than, and in Latin by a noun in the ablative case governed by the preposition proe ^[22. See Ruddiman, Grammatica Institutiones, pars secunda, lib. i. cap. 2. Although it is certainly true, that when we use the superlative, we ought in propriet y to consider the things compared as of the same class; and when we use the comparative, as of different classes; yet this distinction is not always attended to by the best writers in any language. In Latin and Greek the comparative is sometimes used, where in English we should use the superlative; as dextra est fortion manuum; and in the Gospel it is said, that “a grain of mustard-seed is the smaller (/««(«»«) of all seeds, but when grown up it is the greater (μuζtn) of herbs.” Even in English, the custom of the language permits us not to say, “he is the tallest of the two,” it must be the taller of the two; but we cannot say “he is the taller of the three," it must be the tallcrt. For these and other deviations from the general rule no reason is to be found in the nature of things; they are errors made proper by use. ] either expressed or understood. We have already observed, that the ablative case denotes concomitancy; and therefore when an adjective in the comparative degree is prefixed to a noun, that noun is put in the ablative case, to denote that two things are compared together in company; but by means of the preposition, expressed or understood, that which is denoted by the comparative adjective is seen to be preferred before that which is denoted by the noun.

We have hitherto considered the comparative as expressed by the words more and most ; but the authors or improvers of language have contrived a method of retrenching the use of these adverbs, by expressing their force by an inflexion of the adjective. Thus, instead of more fair, they say fairer; instead of most fair, fairest; and the same method of comparison takes place both in the Greek and Latin languages; witiι this difference, however, between the genius of these languages and ours, that we are at liberty to form the comparison either in the one method or in the other; whereas in those languages the comparison is seldom or never formed by the assistance of the adverb, but always by the inflexion of the adjective. Hence this inflexion is by the Greek and Latin grammarians considered as a necessary accident of the adjective; but it has reached no further than to adjectives, and participles sharing the nature of adjectives. The attributes expressed by verbs are as susceptible of comparison as those expressed by adjectives; but they are always compared by means of adverbs, the verb being too much diversified already to admit of more variations without perplexity.

It must be confessed, that comparatives, as well the simple as the superlative, seem sometimes to part with their relative nature, and to retain only their intensive. Thus in the degree denoting simple excess, Tristion, et lacrymis oculos suffusa nitentes— Virg. Tristion means nothing more than that Venus was very sad. In the degree called the superlative this is more usual. Phrases extremely common are, Vir doctissimus, vir fortissimus, “ a most learned man, a most brave man that is, not the bravest and most learned man that ever existed, but a man possessing those qualities in an eminent degree. In English, when we intimate that a certain quality is possessed in an eminent degree, without making any direct comparison between it and a similar quality, we do it by the intensive word very, more commonly than by most; as, Cicero was very eloquent, the mind of Johnson was very vigorous. This mode of expression has been called the superlative of eminence, to' distinguish it from the other superlative, which is superlative upon comparison. Yet it may be said, that even in the superlative of eminence something of comparison must be remotely or indirectly intimate⅛ as we cannot reasonably call a man very eloquent, without comparing his eloquence with the eloquence of other men. This is indeed true; but we cannot therefore affirm that comparison is more clearly intimated in this superlative than in the simple adjective eloquent ; for when we say that a man is eloquent, we mark between his eloquence and that of other men a distinction of the same kind, though not in the same degree, as when we say that he is very eloquent.

In English we distinguish the two superlatives, by prefixing to the one the definite article the, to show that something is predicated of the object expressed by it, which cannot be predicated of any other object; and by subjoining the preposition of, to show that the objects with which it is compared are of the same class with itself; as, “Solomon was the wisest of men; Hector was the most valiant o] the Trojans.” To the other superlative^[23. In English, the termination est is peculiar to the superlative of comparison, to which the definite article is prefixed. Thus we may say, “Homer was the sublimest of poets but we cannot say, “Homer was a sublimest poet.” Again, we may say, “Homer was a very sublime poet but not, “Homer was the very sublime poet.” ] we only prefix [7:10:671]the indefinite article a ; as, “he was a very good man; he was a most valiant soldier.”

As there are some qualities which admit of comparison, so there are others which admit of none; such, for example, are those which denote that quality of bodies arising from their figure, as when we say, a circular table, a quadrangular court, a conical piece of metal, and the like. The reason is, that a million of things participating the same figure, participate it equally, if they do it at all. To say, therefore, that whilst A and B are both quadrangular, A is more or less quadrangular than B, is absurd. The same holds true in all attributives denoting definite quantities of whatsoever nature; for as there can be no comparison without intension or remission, and a& there can be no intension or remission in things always definite, therefore these attributives can admit of no comparison. By the same method of reasoning, we discover the cause why no substantive is susceptible of these degrees of comparison. A mountain cannot be said more to be or to exist than a mole-hill; but the mare or less must be sought for in their quantities. In like manner, when we refer many individuals to one species, the lion A cannot be called more a lion than the lion B;^[24. when Pope says of a certain person, that he is “a tradesman, meek, and much a liar," the last phrase is the same with much given to lying, the word liar having the effect of an attributive. ] l but if more any thing, he is more fierce, more swift, or exceeding in some such attribute. So, again, in referring many species to one genus, a crocodile is not more an animal than a lizard; nor a tiger more than a cat; but, if any thing, die crocodile and tiger are more bulky, more strong, &c. than the animals with which dιey are compared; die excess, as before, being derived from dιeir attributes.

Of the adverbs or secondary attributives already mentioned, those denoting intension and remission may be called adverbs of quantity continuous, as greatly, vastly, tolerably, &c.; once, twice, thrice, &c.^[25. These words were anciently written one’s, twie’s, thrie'ι, and are merely the genitives of one, two, three, the substantive time or turn being omitted. Thus, How often did you write î Answer, Once, that is, one'· time. (See Horne Tooke ’ β Diversion* of Purity). ] are adverbs of quantity discrete, as more and most, less and least, to which may be added equally, proportionally, Sic. are adverbs of relation. There are others of quality ; as when we say, honestly industrious, prudently brave; they fought bravely, he painted finely.

And here it may be worth while to observe, how the same thing, participating the same essence, assumes different grammatical forms from its different relations. For example, suppose it should be asked, How differ honest, honestly, and honesty ĩ The answer is, they are in essence the same; but they differ in as much as honest is the attributive of a noun; honestly, of a verb or adjective; and honesty being divested of these its attributive relations, assumes the power of a noun or substantive, so as to stand by itself.

The adverbs hitherto mentioned are common to verbs of every species; but there are some which are confined to verbs properly so called, that is, to such verbs as denote motions or energies with their privations. All motion and rest imply time and place as a kind of necessary coincidence. Hence, when we would express the place or time of either, we have recourse to adverbs formed for this purpose; of place, as when we say, he stood there, he went hence, he came hither ; of time, as when we say, he stood then, he went afterwards, he travelled formerly. To these may be added the adverbs which denote the intensions and remissions peculiar to motion, such as speedily, hastily, swiftly, slowly, &c. ; as also adverbs of place made out of prepositions, such as upwards and downwards, from up and down. It may, however, be doubted whether some of these words, as well as many others, which do not so properly modify attributes, as mark some remote circumstance attending an attribute or our way of conceiving it, are truly adverbs, though so called by the grammarians. The simple affirmative and negative yes and no are called adverbs, though they surely do not signify that which we hold to be the very essence of the adverb, a modification of attributes. “Is he learned? No.” “Is he brave? Yes.” Here the two adverbs, as they are called, signify not any modification of the attributes brave and learned, but a total negation of the attribute in the one case, and in the other a declaration that the attribute belongs to the person spoken of.

Adverbs are indeed applied· to many purposes; and their general nature may be better understood by reading a list of them, and attending to their etymology, than by any general description or definition. Many of them seem to have been introduced into language in order to express by one word the meaning of two or three, and are mere abbreviations of nouns, verbs, and adjectives. Thus, the import of the phrase, in what place, is expressed by the single word where ; to what place, by whither ; from this place, by hence; in a direction ascending, by upwards; at the present time, by now; at what time, by when; at that time, by then ; many times, by often ; not many times, by seldom ; and so of others.

Mr Horne Tooke has, with great industry and accuracy, traced many of the English adverbs from their origin in the ancient Saxon and other northern tongues, and shown them to be either corruptions of other words or abbreviations of phrases and sentences. He observes, “that all adverbs ending in ly, the most prolific branch of the family, are sufficiently under⅝tood; the termination being only the word like corrupted, and the corruption so much the more easily and certainly discovered, as the termination remains more pure and distinguishable in the other sister languages, in which it is written lick, lyh, lig, ligen.” He might have added, that in Scotland the word like is, at this day, frequently used instead of the English termination ly ; as for a goodly figure, the common people say a good-like figure. Upon this principle the greater part of adverbs are resolved into those parts of speech which we have already considered, as honestly into honest-like, vastly, into vast-like, &c.; so that when we say of a man he is honestly industrious, we affirm that he is honest-like industrious, or that his industry has the appearance of being honest. Adverbs of a different termination the same acute writer resolves thus; aghast into the past participle agazed;

The French exclaimed, the Devil was in arms.

All the whole army stood agaxed on him— Shaktp. Ago, into the past participle agone or gone. Asunder he derives from asundered, separated; the past participle of the Anglo-Saxon verb asundrien, a word which, in all its varieties, is to be found in all the northern tongues, and comes originally from send, that is, sand. To wit, from wittan, to know; as videlicet and scilicet, in Latin, are abbreviations of videre-licet and scire-licet. Needs, he resolves into need is, used parenthetically; as, “I must needs do such a thing.” “I must (need is) do such a thing that is, “I must do it, there is need of it.” Anon, which our old authors use for immediately, instantly, means, he says, in one, that is, in one instant, moment, minute. As,

And right anon withouten more abode. Anon in all the haste I can.

Alone and only are resolved into all one, and one-like. In the Dutch, cen is one; and all cen alone; and all-cen-like, only, anciently alonely. Alive is on live, or in life. Thus, in Chaucer, [7:10:672] christ eterne on live. Augkt or ought; a whit or o whit; o being formerly written for the article α, or for the numeral one ; and whit or hwit, in Saxon, signifying a small thing, as a point or jot. Awhile, which is usually classed with adverbs, is evidently a noun with the indefinite article prefixed; a while, that is, a time. Whilst, anciently and more properly whiles, is plainly the Saxon hwilees, time that. Aloft was formerly written on-left. As, in Chaucer,

And ye, my mother, my soveregne pleasance Over al thing, out talce ’ Cnxist on lofte.

Now, says Mr Home Tooke, lyft, in the Anglo-Saxon, is the air or the clouds, as, in lyfie cummende, coming in the clouds (St Luke). In the Danish, luft is air; and “at spronge i lüften? to blow up into the air, or aloft. So in the Dutch, de loer hebben, to sail before the wind; loeven, to ply to windward; loer, the weather gage, &c. From the same root are our other words, Loft, lofty, to luff, lee, leeward, lift, &c. It would be needless, as the ingenious author observes, to notice such adverbs as, afoot, adays, ashore, astray, aslope, aright, abed, aback, abreast, afloat, aloud, aside, afield, aground, aland, &c. These are at first view seen for what they are. Nor shall we follow him through the analysis which he has given of many other adverbs, of which the origin is not so obvious as of these. Of the truth of his principles we are satisfied; and have not a doubt, but that upon those principles a man conversant with our earliest writers, and thoroughly skilled in the present languages, may trace every English adverb^[26. The same resolution might probably be made of the Greek and Latin adverbs, were we as intimately acquainted with the sources of those tongues as Mr Horne Tooke is with the sources of the English language. “Many of the Latin adverbs,” says Ruddiman, “are nothing else but adjective nouns or pronouns, having the preposition and substantive understood; as jmo, co, eodem, for ad quee, ea, cadem (loco) or cui, ei, eidem (loco) ; for of old these datives ended in o. Thus, qua, hoc, iliac, &c. are plainly adjectives in the abla. tive singular feminine, the word via, “a way,” and the preposition in, being understood. Many of them are compounds; as, quonu>- do, i. e. quo modo ; quemadmodum, i. e. ad quem modum; quamobrem, i. e. ob quam rem; quare, i. e. (pro) qua re; quartum, i. e. vertut quem (locum); icilicet, i. e. teire licet; videlicet, i. e. videre licet; ilicet, i. e. ire licet { illico, i. e. in loco; magnopere, i. e. magno opere; nimirum, i. e. ni (ett) mirum; hodie, i. e. hoc die; poitridie, i. e. potiero die; pridie, i. e. pra die. Perfecto, certe, tane, male, bene, plane, are obviously adjectives. Forte is the ablative of fire ; and if we had leisure to pursue the subject, and were masters of all the Ian-guages from which the Latin is derived, we doubt not but we should be able to resolve every adverb into a substantive or adjective. ] to its source, and show that it is no part of speech separate from those which we have already considered. The adverbs, however, of affirmation and negation, are of too much importance to be thus passed over; and as we have never seen an account of them at all satisfactory, except that whiβh has been given by Mr Horne Tooke, we shall transcribe the substance of what he says concerning aye, yea, yes, and no. To us these words have always appeared improperly classed with adverbs, upon every definition which has been given of that part of speech. Accordingly, our author says, that aye or yea is the imperative of a verb of northern extraction; and means have, possess, enjoy. And yes is a contraction of ay-es, have, possess, enjoy, that. Thus, when it is asked whether a man be learned, if the answer be by the word yes, it is equivalent to have that, enjoy that belief or that proposition.

The northern verb of which yea is the imperative, is in Danish ejer, to possess, have, enjoy. Eja, aye or yea; eje, possession; ęįer, possessor. In Swedish it is ega, to possess, of which the imperative is ja, aye, yea; égaré, possessor. In German, ju signifies aye or yea; eigener, possessor, owner; eigen, own. In Dutch, eigenen is to possess ∙,ja, yea. Greenwood derives not and its abbreviate no from the Latin; Minshow, from the Hebrew; and Junius, from the Greek. Our author very properly observes, that the inhabitants of the north could not wait for a word expressive of dissent till the establishment of those nations and languages; and adds, that we need not be inquisitive nor doubtful concerning the origin and signification of not and no ; since we find that, in the Danish nodig, in the Swedish nodig, and in the Dutch, noode, node, and no, mean averse, unwilling. So that when it is asked whether a man be brave, if the answer be no, it is a declaration that he who makes it is averse from or unwilling to admit-that proposition.

Most writers on grammar have mentioned a species of adverbs, which they call adverbs of interrogation, such as where, whence, whither, how, &c. But the truth is, that there is no part of speech which, of itself, denotes interrogation. A question is never asked otherwise than by abbreviation, by a single word, whether that word be a noun, a pronoun, a verb, or an adverb. The word where is equivalent to in what place; whence, to from what place; and how, to in what manner, &c. In these phrases, in what place, from what place, and in what manner, the only word that can be supposed to have the force of an interrogative, is what, which is resolvable into that which. But we have already explained, under the head of Pronouns, the principles upon which the relative is made to denote interrogation; and the same reasoning will account for the adverbs where, whence, whither, how, &c. being employed as interrogatives. When we say, “Where were you yesterday? whence have you come? whither are you going? how do you perform your journey ?” we merely use so many abbreviations for the following sentences: “Tell us, or describe to us, the place where (or in which) you were yesterday; the place whence (or from which) you have come; the place to which you are going; the manner in which you perform your journey? And so much for adverbs. We now proceed to those parts of speech which are usually called prepositions and conjunctions, and of which the use is to connect the other words of a sentence, and to combine two or more simple sentences into one compound sentence.

VI.— Of Prepositions, Conjunctions, and Interjections.

It has been observed, that a man whilst awake is conscious of a continued train of perceptions and ideas passing in his mind, which depends little upon his own will; that he cannot to the train add a new idea; and that he can but very seldom break its connection. To the slightest reflection these truths must be apparent. Our first ideas are those which we derive from external objects making impressions on the senses; but all the external objects which fall under our observation are linked together in such a manner as indicates them to be parts of one great and regular system. When we take a view of the things by which we are surrounded, and which are the archetypes of our ideas, their inherent qualities are not more remarkable than the various relations by which they are connected. Cause and effect, contiguity in time or place, high and low, prior and posterior, resemblance and contrariety, with a thousand other relations, connect things together without end. There is not a single thing which appears solitary and altogether devoid of connection. The only difference is, that some are intimately and some slightly connected, some neariy and some at a distance. That the relations by which external objects are thus linked together must have great influence in directing the train of human thought, so that not one perception or idea can appear to the mind wholly unconnected with all other perceptions or ideas, will be admitted by every man who [7:10:673]believes that his senses and intellect represent things as they are.

This being the case, it is necessary, if the purpose of language be to communicate thought, that the speaker be furnished with words, not only to express the ideas of substances and attributes which he may have in his mind, but also to indicate the order in which he views them, and to point out the various relations by which they are connected. In many instances all this may be done by the parts of speech which we have already considered. The closest connection which we can conceive, is that which subsists between a substance and its qualities; and in every language with which we are acquainted, that connection is indicated by the immediate coalescence of the adjective with the substantive; as we say, a good man·, a learned man ; υiτ bonus, vir doctus. Again, there is a connection equally intimate, though not so permanent, between an agent and his action; for the action is really an attribute of the agent; and therefore we say, the boy reads, the man writes ; the noun coalescing with the verb so naturally, that no other word is requisite to unite them. Moreover, an action and that which is acted upon being contiguous in nature, and mutually affecting each other, the words which denote them should in language be mutually attractive, and capable of coalescing without external aid; as, he reads a book, he builds a house, he breaks a stone. Further, because an attribute and its modifications are inseparably united, an adjective or a verb is naturally connected with the adverb which illustrates or modifies its signification; and therefore, when we say, he walks slowly, he is prudently brave, it is plain that no other word is necessary to promote the coalescence of the attributes “walking” and “bravery” with their modifications of “slowness” and “prudence." The agreement between the terms of any proposition which constitutes truth is absolutely perfect; but as either of the terms may agree with many other things besides its correlate, some word is requisite in every proposition to connect the particular predicate with the particular subject; and that is the office of the simple verb to be ; as, the three angles of every triangle are equal to two right angles.

Thus we see that many of the relations subsisting between our ideas may be clearly expressed by means of nouns, adjectives, verbs, and adverbs; and in those languages of which the nouns have cases, there is perhaps no relation of much importance which might not be thus pointed out, without being under the necessity of employing the aid of any additional part of speech. In English, however, the case is otherwise; for were we to say, “He rode Edinburgh, went the parliament-house, walked his counsel the court met,” we should speak unintelligibly; as in these expressions there is either a total want of connection, or such a connection as produces falsehood and nonsense. In order to give meaning to the passage, the several gaps must be filled up by words significant of the various relatione by which the different ideas are connected in the mind; as, “He rode to Edinburgh, went to the parliament-house, and walked with his counsel till the court met.” Of these connecting words, to and with are called prepositions, and and till are usually called conjunctions. Although these prepositions and conjunctions are not so absolutely necessary in Greek and Latin as they are in English, yet as there is no language wholly without them, nor any language in which it is not of importance to understand their force, they well deserve a place in universal grammar.

The sole use of conjunctions and prepositions in language is to connect either sentences or other words; but the theory of these connectives themselves has certainly never been understood, unless Mr Horne Tooke has at last hit upon the truth. Mr Harris writes about them and i about them, quoting passages from Greek and Latin au-there, and produces at last no information. His defini- ' tions of both, as parts of speech void of signification, are highly absurd; and even the principal distinction which he makes between them seems not to be well founded. Prepositions and conjunctions denote the relations subsisting between the ideas expressed by those words or sentences which they serve to connect; and as relations are contemplated by the mind as well as positive ideas themselves, the words which denote these relations cannot be insignificant. The essential difference between the conjunction and preposition, according to the same author, consists in this, that the former connects sentences, and the latter words; but the fact is often otherwise. An obvious example occurs where the conjunction and connects not sentences but words. “A man of wisdom and virtue is a perfect character.” Here it is not meant to be asserted, “that the man of wisdom is a perfect character, and that the man of virtue is a perfect character;” for both these assertions would be false. This sentence therefore (and many such will occur) is not resolvable into two; whence it follows, that the conjunction and does not always connect sentences; and the same is frequently the case with other conjunctions.

Mr Horne Tooke’s idea of prepositions and conjunctions is, that they do not form distinct classes of words, but are merely abbreviations of nouns and verbs; and, with respect to the English language, he has been remarkably successful in proving his position. But though such be undeniably the case in English, it would be rash to conclude a priori that it is so in all other tongues. To establish this general conclusion would require a long and tedious deduction in each particular language; and how much language, leisure, industry, and acuteness, such an undertaking would require, even in one tongue, it is not easy to determine. In the languages with which we are best acquainted, many conjunctions, and most prepositions, have the appearance at least of original words; and though this most acute grammarian, from his knowledge of the northern tongues, has been able to trace the most important of those in English to very plausible sources, the same thing would be difficult in other languages of which the sources are obscure, and absolutely impossible in those of which they are wholly unknown. It is, however, a strong presumption in favour of his opinion, that grammarians have never been able to assign any general characteristic of those species of words, which, did they constitute distinct parts of speech, one would think could not have so long remained undiscovered. It is a further presumption in his favour, that many words in Greek and Latin, as well as in English, which have been called conjunctions, are obviously resolvable upon his principles, and indeed discover their meaning and origin upon mere inspection. We shall therefore content ourselves with retailing the common doctrine respecting these parts of speech so far as it is intelligible, subjoining at the bottom of the page the analysis given by Mr Horne Tooke, of the most important English conjunctions and prepositions; and requesting our readers, who would understand the subject, to attend more to the relations between their various ideas, than to the frivolous distinctions which, in compliance with custom, we are compelled to lay before them. We shall treat first of the conjunction.

1. Of Conjunctions. A conjunction is a part of speech of which, as its name indicates, the use is to connect either two or more words in a sentence, or to make of two simple sentences one compound sentence. It is usually said that conjunctions never connect words, but sentences only, and that this is the circumstance which distinguishes them from prepositions. We [7:10:674]have already given one example which proves this distinction to be ill founded; we shall now give from Mr Home Tooke one or two more, which will place its absurdity in a still clearer light: Two and two are four; John and Jane are a handsome couple; AB and BC and CA form a triangle. Are two four ĩ Is John a couple and Jane a couple ? Does one straight line form a triangle ĩ It appears indeed that and may connect any two things which can be connected, as it signifies addition.^[27. And is a 8axon word, being, according to Mr Horne Tooke, an abbreviation of an ad, the imperative of the verb anaxad, to add to or heap up. So that when we say two and two are four, we only declare that two added to two are four. ]

Conjunctions connecting sentences sometimes connect their meaning, and sometimes not. For example, let us take these two sentences, “Rome was enslaved, Caesar was ambitious,” and connect them together by the conjunction because ; “Rome was enslaved because Caesar was ambitious.” Here the meanings, as well as the sentences, appear to be connected by that natural relation which subsists between an effect and its cause; for the enslaving of Rome was the effect of Caesar’s ambition. That particular relation therefore is that which is denoted by the conjunction because, ^[28. Because is compounded of the 8axon be, by, and cause ; and by some of our most ancient authors it was written by cause. “ Rome was enslaved because Casar was ambitious," is therefore equivalent to, “ Rome was enslaved by the cause caesar was ambitious taking the phrase, “caesar was ambitious,” as an abstract noun in concord with the other noun cause. ] which would be improperly used to connect two sentences between which the relation of an effect to its cause exists not. But if it be said, “manners must be reformed, or liberty will be lost here the conjunction or, though it joins the sentences, yet as to their meaning is a perfect disjunctive. Between the reformation of manners and the loss of liberty there is certainly a natural relation; but it is not the relation of contiguity or similitude, or of cause and effect, but of contrariety. The relation of contrariety therefore is the signification of the word or.^[29. Or seems to be a mere contraction of the Saxon oder, which signifies other, that is, something different and often contrary. So that the conjunction or must always denote diversity, and very often contrariety. ] And thus it appears, that though all conjunctions may combine sentences, yet, with respect to the sense, some are conjunctive and others disjunctive.

Those conjunctions which conjoin both sentences and their meanings are either copulatives or continuances. The principal copulative in English is and, which we have already considered. The continuatives are much more numerous; if, an, because, therefore, wherefore, hence, &c. The difference between them is this: The copulative does no more than barely couple words or sentences, and is therefore applicable to all subjects of which the natures are not incompatible.^[30. As day and night, heat and cold ; for we cannot say of the same portion of time, it is day and it is night ; or of the same body, it is both hot and cold. ] The relation which it denotes is that of juxtaposition, or of one thing added to another. Continuatives, on the contrary, by a more intimate connection, consolidate sentences into one continuous whole; and are therefore applicable only to subjects which have an essential relation to each other, such as that of an effect to its cause, or of a cause to its effect. For example, it is no way improper to say, “Lysippus was a statuary, and Priscian a grammarian; the sun shineth, and the sky is clear because these are things that can co-exist, and yet imply no absurdity. But it would be absurd to say, “Lysippus was a statuary because Priscian was a grammarian though not to say, “the sun shineth because the sky is clear.” With respect to the first, the reason is, that the word because denotes the relation which an effect bears to its cause; but the skill of Priscian in grammar could not possibly be the cause of Lysippus’s skill in statuary; the coincidence between the skill of the one and that of the other, in arts so very different, was merely accidental. With respect to the shining of the sun and the clearness of the sky, the case is widely different; for the clearness of the sky is the cause of the sun’s shining, at least so as to be seen by us.

As to the continuatives, they are either suppositive, such as if, an ; or positive, such as because, therefore, as, &c. Take examples of each: “You will live happily if you live honestly; you live happily because you live honestly; yon live honestly, therefore you live happily.” The difference between these continuatives is this: The suppositives denote connection, but do not assert actual existence; the positives imply both the one and the other.^[31. ‘ The reason of all this will Ėe apparent from the analysis given by Mr Home Tooke of those words which we have called suppositive conjunctions. If and an may be used mutually and indifferently to supply each other’s place ţ for they are both verbs, and of the same import. If is merely the imperative of the Gothic and Anglo-Saxon verh gifan, to give ; and in those languages, as well as in the English formerly, this supposed conjunction was pronounced and written as the common imperative gif. Thus, My largesse Hath lotted her to be your brother’s mistresse, Gi∕shee can be reclaimed; ^∕not, his prey. Sad Shepherd. Gawin Douglass almost always uses gif for if, as the common people in some counties of Scotland do even at this day; and it is obvious, that our ∙∕has always the signification of the English imperative give, and no other. So that the resolution of the construction in the sentence, “ If you live honestly you will live happily," is simply this, “ Give you live honestly (taking you live honestly as an abstract noun) you will live happily." γur living happily is declared to depend upon your living honestly as the condition ; but give that, and your happiness is positively asserted. In like manner may such sentences be resolved as, I wonder he can move! that he’s not fixed! If that his feelings be the same with mine. Thus, “His feelings be the same with mine, give that, I wonder he can move,” &c. And here we cannot forbear giving our assent to the truth of Mr Horne Tooke’s observation, that when the datum upon which any conclusion depends is a sentence, the article that, if not expressed, may always be inserted, we do not, however, think the insertion at all times absolutely necessary to complete the syntax; for active verbs govern whole sentences and clauses of sentences as well as substantive nouns. Instances of this occur so frequently in the Latin classics, that they can have escaped no man’s notice who has ever read Horace or virgil with attention, we agree likewise with this most ingenious author, that where the datum is not a sentence, but some noun governed by the verb if or give, the article that can never be inserted. For example, if we be asked how the weather will dispose of us to-morrow, we cannot say: "If that fair, it will send us abroad; if that foul, it will keep us at home but “f∕ ’ fair, it will send us abroad,” <⅛c. The reason is obvious. The verb in this case directly governs the noun; and the resolved construction is, “ give fair weather, it will send us abroad; give foul weather, it will keep us at home.” An, the other suppositive conjunction mentioned, is nothing else than the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon verb an ax, which likewise means Io give or to grant. As, “ An you had an eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortune before you that is, “ Grant y ou had an eye behind you, you might see,” &c. This account of the two conditional conjunctions in English is so rational and satisfactory, that we are strongly inclined to believe that all those words which are so called, are in all languages to be accounted for in the same manner. Not indeed that they must all mean precisely to give or grant, but some word equivalent; such as, be it, suppose, allow, permit i which meaning is to be sought for in the particular etymology of each respective ]
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The positives above mentioned are either causal, such as because, since, as, &c.;^[32. Of the causal conjunctions mentioned in the text, because has been already considered; and some account must be given of the two words Hare and βr. The former of these, according to Mr Horne Tooke, is a very corrupt abbreviation, confounding together different words and different combinations of words. To us it appears to be compounded of scand, teeing, and εs, that or it ; or of sin, seen, and es. Seand and “in are the present and past participles of the Anglo-Saxon verb scon, to tee. In modern English “in« is used four ways; two as a preposition affecting words, and two as a conjunction affecting sentences, when used as a preposition, it has always the signification of the past participle seen joined to thence (that is, »cen and thenceforward), or else the signification of the’past participle teen only, when used as a conjunction, it has sometimes the signification of the present participle teeing, or teeing that ; and sometimes the signification of the past participle teen, or teen that. We shall give examples of all these significations. l»t, As a preposition signifying seen and thenceforward : “Amore amiable sovereign than George III. has not swayed the English sceptre since the conquest." That is, “ The conquest teen (or at the completion of the sight of the conquest), and thenceforward, a more amiable sovereign than George III. has not swayed the English sceptre.” Since, taken in this sense, seems rather to be a corruption of ńththan or tithence, than a compound of «»and and et. 2 dly, As a preposition signifying seen simply: “Did George III. reign before or since that example ?" 3dhj, As a conjunction, rince means teeing that : as, “If I should labour for any other satisfaction but that of my own mind, it would be an effect of frenzy in me, not of hope; since (or teeing that) it is not truth, but opinion, that can travel through the world without a passport.” dthly, It means teen that or that teen ; as, “ Since death in the end takes from all whatsoever fortune or force takes from any one, it were a foolish madness in the shipwreck of worldly things, when all sinks but the sorrow, to save that that is, “Death in the end takes from all whatsoever sortµne or force takes from any one; that teen, it were a foolish madness,” &c. A», the other causal conjunction mentioned in the text, is an article meaning always it, or that, or which. Take the following ex- She glides away under the foamy seas As swift as darts or feather'd arrows fly. That is, “She glides away (with) that swiftness (with) which darts or feathered arrows fly.” In German, where at still retains its original signification and use, it is written et. So is another conjunction of the same import with at, being evidently the Gothic article <α or to, which signifies it or that. ] l or collective, such as therefore, wherefore, &c. The difference between them is this: The causais subjoin causes to effects; as, “the sun is in eclipse, because the moon intervenes the collectives subjoin effects to causes; as, “the moon intervenes, therefore ^[33. As Mr Harris has called therefore, wherefore, &c. collective conjunctions, we have retained the denomination, though ∣>erhaps a more proper one might be found. 11 is indeed of little consequence what name any class of words be called, provided the import of the words themselves be understood. Wherefore and therefore evidently denote the relation of a cause to its effects. They are compounds of the saxon words nwAEn and tiiaeb with fob or voor; and signify for which, for those, or for that. It is worthy of remark, that in some parts of Scotland the common people even at this day use thit for these. ] the sun is in eclipse.” We therefore use causais in those instances where, the effect being conspicuous, we seek for its cause; and collectives, in demonstration and science, properly so called, where the cause being first known, by its help we discern effects.

As to causal conjunctions, we may further observe, that there is not one of the four species of causes which they are not capable of denoting. For example, the material cause; “The trumpet sounds because it is made of metal.” The formal ; “The trumpet sounds because it is long and hollow.” The efficient ; “The trumpet sounds because an artist blows it” The final ,∙ “The trumpet sounds that it may raise our courage.” It is worth observing, that the first three causes are expressed by the strongest affirmation; because if the effect actually be, these must be also. But this is not the case with respect to the last, which is only affirmed as a thing that may happen. The reason is obvious; for whatever may be the end which set the artist first to work, that end it may still be beyond his power to obtain; as, like all other contingents, it may either happen or not. Hence also it is connected by a particular conjunction, that, ^[34. have already considered the word that, and seen that it is never a conjunction, but uniformly a definite article. “The trumpet sounds (for) that it may raise our courage taking the clause “it may raise our courage” as an abstract noun in concord with that and governed by for. Gr the sentence may be resolved thus: “The trumpet may raise our courage (for) that (purpose) it sounds.” ] absolutely confined to this cause.

We come now to the disjunctive conjunctions, a species of words which bear this contradictory name, because whilst they conjoin the sentences, they disjoin the sense; or, to speak a language more intelligible, they denote relations of diversity or opposition.

That there should be such words, whether called conjunctions or not, is extremely natural. For as there is a principle of union diffused throughout all things, by which this whole is kept together and preserved from dissipation; so is there in like manner a principle of diversity diffused throughout all, the source of distinction, of number, and of order. Now it is to express in some degree the modifications of this diversity, that those words called disjunctive conjunctions are employed.

Of these disjunctives some are simple and some adversative : Simple, as when we say, “either it is day or it is night adversative, as when we say, “it is not day, but it is night.” The difference between these is, that the simple express nothing more than a relation of diversity ; the adversative express a relation not barely of diversity, but also of opposition. Add to this, that the adversatives are definite, the simple indefinite. Thus, when we say, “the number three is not an even number, but ^[35. Mr Horne Tooke has favoured us with some ingenious remarks on the two different derivations of the word but, when used in the two acceptations which are usually annexed to it, viz. that which it bears in the beginning of a sentence, and that which it has in the middle. He has given it as his opinion, that this word, when employed in the former way, is corruptly put for bot, the imperative of the Saxon verb botan, to boot, to tuperadd, to supply, &c. and that when used in the latter it is a contraction of be-utan, the imperative of beon-ütan, to be out. Our ancient writers made the proper distinction between the orthography of the one word and that of the other. Gawin Douglass, in particular, although he frequently confounds the two words, and uses them improperly, does yet abound with many instances of their proper use; and so contrasted, as to awaken, says our author, the most inattentive reader. Of the many examples quoted by him, we shall content ourselves with the two following: Boτ thy worke shall endure in laude and glorie, But spot or fault condigne eterne memorie. Boτ gif the fates, but pleid, At my pleasure suffer it me life to leid. If this derivation of the word but from botan, to superadd, be just, the sentence in the text, “the number three is not an even number, but an odd,” will be equivalent to “the number three is not an even number, superadd (it is) an odd number ;” and if so, the opposition is not marked (at least directly) by the word but, but by the adjectives even and odd, which denote attributes in their own nature opposite. It is only when but has this sense that it answers to ted in I-atin, or to mais in French. In the second line of the quotation from Gawin Douglass’s Fretace the word but is evidently a contraction of be-utan, and has a sense very different from that of dot in the preceding line. The meaning of the couplet is, “ Superadd (to something said or supposed to be said before) thy worke shall endure in )aude and glorie, be out (id est, without) spot or fault.” In the foilowing passage from Donne, the word but, although written in the same manner, is used in both its meanings: “You must answer that she was brought very near the fire, and as good as thrown in; or else, that she was provoked to it by a divine inspiration. But that another divine inspiration moved the beholders to believe that she did therein a noble act, this act of her’s might have been calumniated.” That is, “You must answer that she was brought very near the fire,” &c. “Superadd (to that answer) be out (or unless or without, for, as will be seen by and by, all those words are of the same import) that another divine inspiration moved,” &c. To these remarks and examples it may be worth while to add, that even now but is often used by the illiterate Scotch for without ; as nothing is more common than to hear a clown say, “He came from home but his breakfast.” Having mentioned without as a word of the same import with but when distinguished from bot, it may not be improper to consider that word herei for though in modem English it is entirely confined to the office of a preposition, it was formerly used indifferently either as a preposition or a conjunction. Without, then, is nothing but the imperative wikthax-utas, from the Anglo-Saxon and Gothic verb weobthan, withan, which in the Anglo-Saxon language is incorporated with the verb beon, esse. According to this derivation, which is Mr Home Tooke's, the word without, whether called conjunction or preposition, is the same as be out, and such will be its import, should it after all be nothing more than a compound of with, which signifies to join, and sometimes to be, and ute, out. ] an odd,” we not only disjoin two opposite attributes, but we definitely affirm[7:10:676] the one to belong to the subject, and deny the other. But when we say, “the number of the stars is either ^[36. ! ur * β nothin Κ n 'ore than a distributive pronoun which every body understands, and or we have already explained. ] even or odd,” though we assert one attribute to be, and the other not to be, yet the alternative is notwithstanding left indefinite.

As to adversative disjunctives, it has been already said, after Mr Harris, that they imply opposition ; but the truth seems to be, that they only unite in the same sentence words or phrases of opposite meanings. Now it is obvious, that opposite attributes cannot belong to the same subject; as when we say, “Nereus was beautiful,” we cannot superadd to this sentence that he was ugly; we cannot say, “he was beautiful but ugly.” When there is opposition, it must be either of the same attribute in different subjects; as when we say, “Brutus was a patriot, but Caesar was not or of different attributes in the same subject, as when we say, “Georgius was a sophist, but not a philosopher or of different attributes in different subjects, as when we say, “Plato was a philosopher, but Hippias was a sophist.” The conjunctions used for all these purposes have been called absolute adversatives, we think improperly, as the opposition is not marked by the conjunctions, but by the words or sentences which they serve to connect. Mr Locke, speaking of the word but, says, that “it sometimes intimates a stop of the mind, in the course it was going, before it came to the end of it to which Mr Horne Tooke replies with truth, that but itself is the farthest of any word in the language from intimating a stop. On the contrary, it always intimates something to follow; insomuch that when any man in discourse finishes his words with but, instead of supposing him to have stopped, we always ask, but what?

Besides the adversatives already mentioned, there are two other species, of which the most important are unless and although. For example, “Troy will be taken, unless the palladium be preserved; Troy will be taken, although Hector defend it” The nature of these adversatives may thus be explained. As every event is naturally allied to its cause, so by parity of reason it is opposed to its preventive; and as every cause is either adequate or inadequate (inadequate when it endeavours without being effectuaD, so in like manner is every preventive. Now adequate preventives are expressed by such adversatives as unless: “Troy will be taken, unless the palladium be preserved ;” that is, this alone is sufficient to prevent it. The inadequate are expressed by such adversatives as although: “Troy will be taken, although Hector defend it ;” that is, Hector’s defence will prove ineffectual. These may be called adversatives adequate and inadequate.

Such is the doctrine of Mr Harris, which, although we can discover in it no determinate meaning, we have ventured with others to retail, from respect to our readers, who may be more perspicacious than ourselves. The author was a man of great learning, and the subject, as he has treated it, appears to be intricate. But whatever sense or nonsense there may be in what he says of causes and preventives, adequate and inadequate, we have no hesitation in affirming that he has totally mistaken the import of the words unless and although. From these being called both preventives, the one adequate and the other inadequate, an unwary reader might be led to infer that they denote the same idea or the same relation; and that the whole difference between them is, that the expression of the one is more forcible than that of the other. Nothing, however, can be further than this from the truth. The meaning of unless is directly opposite to that of although. Unless ^[37. So low down as in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, says Mr Home Tooke, this conjunction was sometimes written onde, or onelesse t but more anciently it was written ouies and sometimes onlesse. Thus, in the trial of Sir John Oldcastle in 1413,” It was not impossible for them to make whole Christes cote without seme, onlesse certeyn great men were brought out of the way.” So, in “The image of governance,” by Sir T. Elliot, 14S1, “Men do fere to approache unto their sovereigne fiord oncles they be called.” So again, in “A necessary doctrine and erudition for any Christian man, set ftirthe by the king’s majestie of England,” 1543, “ Onlcs ye believe, ye • u f° t un3erstande ∙ , ' “No man shall be crowned, onles he lawfully fight.” “The soul waxeth feeble, onlesse the same be cherished. ‘ It cannot begynne, ondes, e by the grace of God.” Now onles is the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon verb onlesan, to dismiss or remove. 8 r 8 ’ Les, the imperative of lesan, which has the same meaning as onlesax, is likewise used sometimes by old writers instead of u t. te«, instances might be given in abundance from Gawin Douglass and Ben Jonson; but perhaps it may be of more importance to remark, that it is this same imperative les which, placed at the end of nouns, and coalescing with them, has given to our language such adjectives as Aopete«, reales,, deathless, motionless, &c. that is, dismiss hope, rest, death, motion, Ac. , . 5 loo !fθ 0b8ervea > t I>at all the languages which have a conjunction corresponding to less or unless, as well as the manner in p ri e . 0t t u se wo l’ ds > s supplied in the languages which have not a conjunction correspondent to them, strongly justify bia derivation which “e have adopted, the Greek u f tn, the Latin ntri, the Italian se non, the Spanish sino, the French si non, aU mean ^1". π 0t ' , 8an, e manner do we sometimes supply its place in English by but, without, be it not, but if, &c. It may be pro- ~∙.u .ì. tD -?· “i™, ln β to the same author, the conjunction lest is a contraction of lesed, the past participle of lesen ; and , t Ĵ/Ía ; ι lde "l at .' either expressed or understood, means no more than hoc dimisso or quo dimis,o. ] and though are both verbs in the imperative mode; the former signifying take away or dismiss, the latter allow, permit, grant, yield, assent. This being the case, “Troy will be taken unless the palladium be preserved,” is a sentence equivalent to “ Remove the palladium be preserved (taking the palladium be preserved as an abstract noun, the preservation of the palladium) Troy will be taken.” Again, “Troy will be taken, although Hector defend it,” is the same as “Troy will be taken allow Hector (to) defend it.” The idea, therefore, expressed by unless is that of the removal of one thing to make way for another; the idea expressed by although Although is compounded of al or all, and tho', though, that, or, as the vulgar more purely pronounce it, thaf, thauf, and thof. Now thaf or thaufa evidently the imperative that or thafig of the verb thafian or thafigan, to allow,permit, grant, yield, anent ; and THΛΓiG becomes thah, though, thoug, and thoch, as Gawin Douglass and other Scottish authors write it, by a transition of the same sort, and at least as easy as that by which hafuc becomes hawk. It is no small confirmation of this etymology, that anciently they often used all be, albeit, all had, all were, all give, instead of although ; and that as the Latin sr {if) means be it, and nisi and sine, unless and without, mean be not, so etsi, although, means and be it 3 is that of allow- [7:10:677]inff one thing to co-exist with another, with which it is apparently incompatible.

Before we take leave of this subject, we might treat, as others have treated, of adverbial conjunctions, and conjunctions of various other denominations.^[39. In a work of this kind, which professes to treat of universal grammar, it would be impertinent to waste our own and our reader’s time on a minute analysis of each conjunction which may occur in any one particular language, we shall therefore pursue the subject no further; but shall subjoin Mr Horne Tooke’s table of the English conjunctions, referring those who are desirous of fuller satisfaction to his ingenious work entitled The Diversions of Parley. IV ļ Gif Gif To give. An An Axax To grant. Unless Onles Onłesan To dismiss. Eke Eac Eacax To add. Yet Get Getan To get. Still Stell Stellan To put. Äre the ⅛JL of Uw⅛ rwjwAire .erb. J⅛- To diωin⅛h. or or or > To allow. Tho’ Thaf Thafian I But Boτ Botan To boot, or superadd. But Be-utax Beon-utax To be out. without Wteth-utax wyethan-utax Tobe out. And Axad ĻAnan ad Dare congeriem. Lest is the participle lesed, of łesax, to dismiss. Şiththan Since '** ' “ t * ιe P artlel P* e of Scon, to see. or ISin-es That is the article or pronoun that. As is es, a German article, meaning W, that, or which. And So is sa or so, a Gothic article of the same import with as. ] But of multiplying subdivisions there is no end; and systems in which they abound convey for the most part no information. The nature of conjunctions can be thoroughly understood only by tracing each to its original in some parent or cognate tongue; and when that shall be done in other languages with as much success as it has been done by Mr Horne Tooke in English, then, and not till then, may we hope to see a rational, comprehensive, and consistent theory of this part of speech. Then too shall we get rid of all that farrago of useless distinctions into conjunctive, adjunctive, disjunctive, subjunctive, copulative, continuative, subcon-tinuative, positive, suppositive, causal, collective, preventive, adequate and inadequate, adversative, conditional, illative, and the like, which explain nothing, and which serve only to veil ignorance and perplex sagacity.

That Mr Home Tooke’s principles will apply exactly to the conjunctions of every language both dead and living, is what our limited knowledge of these languages does not authorize us positively to affirm. It is, however, a strong presumption in favour of his opinion, that illiterate savages, the first cultivators of language, are little likely to have sent out their faculties in quest of words to denote the abstract relations subsisting among their ideas, when we have such evidence as his book affords, that the names of the most common substances and qualities could answer that and every other purpose, which in the ordinary intercourse of life can be answered by the faculty of speech. It is a further presumption in his favour, that in the rudest languages there are few if any conjunctions; and that even in others which are the most highly polished, such as Greek and Latin, as well as English, many of those words which have been called conjunctions are obviously resolvable into other parts of speech. Thus αλλα, translated but, is evidently the neuter gender of either the nominative or accusative plural of αλλoς, another ; and when used as a conjunction, it intimates that you are going to add something to what you have already said. Cceterum has the same meaning, and is nothing but xαι irijo>. Mais, but, in French, is the Latin majus ; ut, uti, irι, quod, is the relative pronoun. Of quocirca, quia, proeterea, antequam, quεnquam, quemvis, quantumvis, quamlibet, &c. the resolution is too obvious to require being mentioned. Where such resolutions as these can be made, or when the conjunctions of any particular tongue can be traced to their origin in any other, there needs be no dispute about their true import; but when the case is otherwise, and the conjunction either appears to be an original word, or is derived from a source to which it cannot be traced, we would advise such of our readers as wish to speak or write correctly, to dismiss from their minds all consideration of copulatives, continuatives, causais, and disjunctives, with the rest of that jargon which we have already mentioned; and to inquire diligently in what manner and for what purpose the conjunction in question is used by the best writers, both ancient and modern, of the particular language which they are studying. This will indeed be found a work of labour; but it appears to us to be the only means left of discovering the precise relations which such conjunctions were intended to express; and, by consequence, of knowing what words or sentences they are fitted to connect, so as to produce a style at once accurate and perspicuous.

2. Of Prepositions.

By Mr Harris and his followers, a preposition is defined to be a part of speech devoid itself of signification, but so formed as to unite two words that are significant, and that refuse to coalesce or unite of themselves. We have already expressed our opinion of that theory which holds certain words to be devoid of signification; but its absurdity, in the present instance, is more, than ever glaring. Concerning the number of prepositions, it is well known that hitherto authors have never been agreed. The ancient Greek grammarians admitted only eighteen, the ancient Latin grammarians above fifty; though the moderns, Sanctius, Sciopius, Perizonius, Vossius, and Ruddiman, have endeavoured to lessen the number without fixing it. Bishop [7:10:678]Wilkins thinks that thirty-six are sufficient; and Girard . says that the French language has done the business effectually with thirty-two. But if prepositions be words devoid of signification, why should there be disputes respecting their numbers? or why in any language should there be more than one preposition, since a single unmeaning mark of connection would certainly answer the purpose as well as a thousand? The cipher, which has no value of itself, and only serves, if we may use the language of grammarians, to connote and consignify, and to change the value of figures, is not several and various, but uniformly one and the same. That “the preposition is so formed as to unite two words which refuse to coalesce or unite of themselves,” is indeed true; and this union it effects, not by having no signification of its own, but by signifying the relation by which the things expressed by the united words are connected in nature. Prepositions are to be accounted for in much the same manner as the cases of nouns. The necessity of this species of words, or of some equivalent invention, follows from the impossibility of having in language a distinct complex term for each distinct collection of ideas which we may have occasion to put together in discourse. The addition or subtraction of any one idea to or from a collection of ideas, makes it a different collection; and if, after either of these operations, it were to be expressed by the same word as before, nothing could ensue but misrepresentation and falsehood. Now, to use in language a different and distinct complex term for each different and distinct collection of ideas, is equally impossible as to use a distinct particular term for each particular and individual idea. To supply, therefore, the place of the complex terms which are wanting in a language, are the cases of nouns and prepositions employed; by the aid of which, complex and general terms are prevented from being infinite or too numerous, and are used .only for those collections of ideas which we have most frequent occasion to mention in discourse. By means of prepositions this end is obtained in the most simple manner. For, having occasion to mention a collection of ideas, for which there is no single complex term in the language, we either take that complex term which includes the greatest number, though not all, of the ideas we would communicate; or else we take that complex term which includes all and the fewest ideas more than those we would communicate; and then, by the help of the preposition, we either make up the deficiency in the one case, or retrench the superfluity in the other. For instance, having occasion to mention a house of a particular description, and knowing that the term house is too general for our purpose, and that the building we have in view has no appropriate name, we say, perhaps, “a house with a partywall,” or a “house without a roof.” In the first instance, the complex term house is deficient, and the preposition directs to add what is wanting; in the second instance, the complex term is redundant, as it denotes a complete house. The preposition, therefore, directs to take away what is superfluous.

Now, considering prepositions in this the most simple light, as serving only to limit or modify general terms, it is absolutely necessary that they should have meanings of their own; for otherwise, how could we, in the instance before us, make known by them our intention, whether of adding to, or retrenching from, the same general term house. If, to a disciple of Mr Harris, we should say, a house join ; he would reply join what ĩ But he would not contend that join is an indeclinable word which has no meaning of its own, because he knows that it is the imperative of a verb, of which the other parts are still in use; and its own meaning is clear, though the sentence is not completed. If, instead of join, we should say to him, a house with, he would still ask the same question, with what ĩ But if we were to discourse with him concerning the word with, he would probably tell us that with is a preposition, an indeclinable word, which is itself devoid of signification, but so formed as to unite two words that are significant. And yet it would be evident by his question, that he felt it had a meaning of its own; which is in reality the same as join. ^[40. This account of prepositions is taken from Mr Horne Tooke, who adds, that the only difference between the two words r»iM and join, is, that the other parts of the Gothic and Anglo-Saxon verb withan, Io join (of which with is the imperative), have ceased to be employed in the language. As with means join, so the corresponding French preposition avec means, and have that, or have that alto. But though with, as the im∣>erative of withak, means join, it has sometimes a very different signification. Mr Tyrwhit in his - Gloa-sary has truly observed, that with and by are often synonymous. They certainly are so; but then with seems to be an abbreviation of the imperative of wyhthax, to be; as without is of wvrthan-utan, to be out. This being the case, our two instances in the text will stand thus: a house join a party-wall ; a house be-out a roof. Nor let any one be surprised that we make no difference between the conjunction without and the preposition without. The word is the same, whether it be employed to unite words or sentences. Prepositions were originally, and for a long time, classed with conjunctions; and when first separated from them, they were only distinguished by the name’of prepositive conjunctions. They are generally used to unite words, but not always; for we may say indifferently, “ï came after his departure,” or “I came after he departed^' By the greater part of grammarians indeed, after, when employed’as in the first sentence, is classed with the prepositions; when employed as in the second, it is classed with the conjunctions. The word, however, is the same in both sentences; its meaning is the same, and its effect precisely the same. The only circumstance of discrimination is, that in the first example it is prefixed to a noun, “his departure ;” in the second, it is prefixed to a nominative and a verb, “he departed.” But even the nominative and the verb, thus applied, express no more than a specifying circumstance annexed to the other proposition, “J came ;” and whenever they are rightly apprehended by the mind, they are stripped of their prepositionary form, and considered abstractedly under a new phasis, “his departure.” Thus then the two sentences are synonymous in every respect, excepting the apparent giammatical nature of the words “his departure,” and “he departed ;” and even these are reduced to one grammatical form in the mind, whenever the import of the propositions is rightly apprehended. n r ithout, and many other prepositions, especially in the learned languages, are used exactly as after is used in the two instances which we have given. Mr Horne Tooke quotes Lord Mansfield for saying, “It cannot be read without the attorney-general consents to it." This, in modern English, is net the common phraseology; but it offends not against any principle of grammar. The nominative and the verb are here, as in the former instance, considered as an abs¢ract noun. "It cannot be read without the consent of the attorney-general.” ] Indeed, so far has always been plainly perceived, that with and without are directly opposite and contradictory; and it would puzzle the most acute philosopher to discover opposition and contradiction in two words where neither of them had any signification. Wilkins, therefore, has well expressed their meaning, where he says, that with is a preposition “relating to the notion of social, or circumstance of society affirmed; and that without is a preposition relating to the same notion of social, or circumstance of society denied.”

But to denote the relations of adding and taking away, is not the only purpose for which prepositions are employed. They all indeed serve to modify some general term or general affirmation, but not precisely in the same way as with and without. It has already been observed, that words significant of those things which coincide in nature, coalesce with one another in syntax, without being beholden to any auxiliary tie. For instance, an adjective coalesces with its substantive, a verb with its nominative; a noun expressing an object acted upon, with a verb denoting[7:10:679] action; and an adverb with its verb. Take the following example: “The splendid sun genially warmeth the fertile earth" But suppose we were desirous to modify this affirmation by the addition of other substantives, air, for instance, and beams ; how would these coincide with the other words of the sentence, or under what character could they be introduced? Not as nominatives or accusatives to the verb, for both these places are already filled; the nominative by the substance sun, which is certainly the agent in this operation; the accusative by the substance earth, which is as certainly the object acted upon. Not as qualities of the sun and earth; for qualities inhering in ⅛eir substances can only be expressed by adjectives, and the words air and beams are both substantives. Here then we must have recourse to prepositions; but we can employ only such prepositions as point out the relations which the air and the beams have to the sun warming the earth. In English we should say, “the splendid sun with his beams genially warmeth through the air the fertile earth.” The sentence, as before, remains entire and one; the substantives required are both introduced; and not a word which was there before is detruded from its proper place. The import of with we have already discovered; it directs to unite the beams to the sun, as jointly with him performing the operation. But the air has no other connection with this operation, than as the medium or passage between the sun and the earth ; and therefore the preposition through Thorough, thourough, thorow, through, or thro', is no other, says Mr Horne Tooke, than the Gothic substantive dauro, or the Teutonic substantive τπuκυu, and, like them, means door, gate, postage. S0 that the sentence in the text, resolved upon his principles, stands thus: “The splendid sun— -Join his beams—genially wanneth— passage the air (or, the air being the∕><wagv or medium) — the fertile earth.” And in the same manner may we translate the preposition through in every instance where through is used in English, or its equivalent preposition in any language; as from the Latin and Italian word porta, in Spanish puerta, and in French porte, have come the Latin and Italian preposition per, the French par, and the Spanish por. 1 must denote that relation which subsists between an object in motion and the medium in which it moves; nor could a preposition of a different import have been employed, without altering tire meaning of the whole sentence.^[42. If, for instance, we were to substitute with or of instead of through, we should in the one case alter the meaning, and in the other speak nonsense. “The sun warmeth with the air the fertile earth,” is an affirmation that “the sun warmeth both the air and the earth whereas the original sentence affirmed nothing more than that “he warmeth the earth." “The sun warmeth of the air the fertile earth,” is nonsense, as it makes the earth a part, or a consequence, of the air. So necessary is it that prepositions have a meaning, and that the meaning of each be attended to. ]

Mr Harris is of opinion that most, if not all, prepositions were originally formed to denote the relations of place. For this opinion we see not sufficient evidence. If indeed we could suppose the inventors or earliest improvers of language to have at all concerned themselves with relations as abstracted from the objects related, we must believe that those which first attracted their attention were the relations subsisting among themselves, and the various bodies with which they were surrounded. We must likewise agree with our author, that place is the grand relation which bodies or natural substances maintain at all times to one another; but we do not therefore think that it would attract the earliest notice of untaught barbarians. On the contrary, we are of opinion that mankind must have made very considerable progress in science before they attempted to abstract place from body; an attempt which, according to some of the most profound philosophers,^[43. Bishops Berkeley and Law, with Principal Campbell of Aberdeen. See The Principles of Human Knowledge, Law’s Notes on King’s origin of Evil, and The Philosophy of Rhetoric. ] is not only difficult, but absolutely impracticable. But whatever be in this, the relations of cause and effect, of duration and motion, are in themselves as obvious, and as likely to arrest the attention and obtain names, as those of place. Amongst men totally illiterate they are evidently more so; for pain and pleasure would suggest some idea of cause and effect as matters of importance. There is, however, no probability that the inventors of any language had the least idea of abstract relations. They doubtless expressed complex conceptions by nouns and verbs, significant at once of the particular ideas and of the various relations by which they viewed those ideas as combined together in a complex conception. Afterwards, when men’s minds became enlarged, and when, from the fluctuation inseparable from a living language, objects or ideas received new names, the old words, whether nouns or verbs, which were originally employed to express a particular complex conception, of which certain particular relations made a part, might be retained for the purpose of denoting those and all similar relations ; and thus verbs and nouns would degenerate into particles bearing the names of prepositions and conjunctions. For instance, one Anglo-Saxon being desirous to communicate to another his own conception of a house with a party-wall, and having, we shall suppose, no such word in his tongue as a preposition, would naturally utter the word house, desiring his friend, at the same time, to add to that well-known sound another sound (uttering it) significant of the particular circumstance wanting to complete his complex conception, viz. a house with (that is join) a party-wall. The word with, as the imperative of a verb, denotes of course three ideas combined together, namely, a command or wish, an affirmation, and the idea of junction. But when the verb withan was dismissed from the English language, the imperative with was still retained; but losing its verbal and modal nature, it was thenceforth employed to denote only one of the three ideas for which it originally stood, viz. the idea of junction. And thus it is that verbs, and also nouns and adjectives, in passing from one language to another, may become prepositions^[44. As the Italian substantive casa, a house, race, family, nation, &c. in passing to the French, becomes the preposition chez, to which there is not, so far as we know, a preposition of precisely the same import in any language. Sensa or sense, in Italian, becomes sans in French, and means absence. Nor is it necessary that verbs and nouns should always pass from one language to another, in order to be converted into prepositions. The Greek preposition χi{ t is evidently the corrupted imperative of χuζ l ζm, to sever, to disjoin, to separate. The Latin sine is sit ne, be not. The German sonder is the imperative of sondern, which has the same meaning as χu fl ζt >. ] and conjunctions. Thus too it is that some of those prepositions come to denote the contiguous, and some the detached, relation of body. The contiguous, as when we say, “Caius walked with a staff that is, “Caius join a staff, walked “the statue stood upon ^[45. up, upon, over, 'bove, above, have all, says Mr Horne Tooke, one common origin and signification. In the Anglo-Saxon, ĳfa, cfena, ufemaest, are the adjectives altus, altion, ollissimus. Ufa or wax, up; comparative uγeπa, ofere, or ofch, over or upper s superlative ufemaest, utmost or uppermost. Beufax, bufan, on bufan, 'bove, above. If this be a just account of the origin of these words, the sentences in the text, where upon, over, and above, occur, will run thus: “The statue stood on high a pedestal “the river ran higher a sand “the sun is risen on high the hills.” And here we may observe, that the mere relation between standing, running, &c. and place, is rather inferred from the verb itself, than expressed by a separate word. The reason is obvious. For if a statue stand, every one knows that it must stand on some thing as well as at some time. There is therefore no necessity, whatever elegance there may be in it, for employing any word to denote that relation, which is commonly believed to be signified by on; but it is necessary to insert, between the verb and pedestal, a word significant of place, that pedestal may not be mistaken, by an ignorant person, for a portion of time, or any thing else connected with the standing of the statue. ] a pedestal that is, “the statue stood (the place of its standing) the higher part of a pedestal “the river ran [7:10:680]over a sand,” that is, “the river ran (the place of its running) the higher part of a sand.” The detached relation, as when we say, “He is going to^[46. That to is significant of detached relation, is the language of Mr Harris, which, though it may be allowed in a loose and vulgar sense, is certainly not philosophically just. The preposition to, in Dutch written toe and tot, is the Gothic substantive taui or tauhts, signifying act, effect, result, or consummation ; which Gothic substantive is itself no other than the past participle tauid or tauids of the verb taujan, agere. And it is obvious that what is done is terminated, ended, finished. In the Teutonic this verb is written TUAN or ruox; whence the modern German thun, and its preposition tu. In the Anglo-Saxon, the verb is teooax, and the preposition to. Do, the auxiliary verb, as it has been called, is derived from the same root, and is indeed the same word as to. The difference between a τ and a d is so very small, that an etymologist knows by the practice of languages, and an anatomist by the reason of that practice, that in the derivation of words it is scarcely worth regarding. To support this etymon of to, Mr Horne Tooke gives a similar instance in the Latin tongue. The preposition ad, he says, is merely the past participle of agere, which past participle is likewise employed as a Latin substantive. He exhibits the derivation of ad thus: [table] The most superficial reader of Latin verse, he observes, knows how readily the Romans dropped their final urn. And a little consideration of the organs and practice of speech will convince him how easily i¾ŗd or act would become ad or at ; as indeed this preposition was indifferently written either way by the ancients. By the later writers of Rome, the preposition was written ad with d only, in order to distinguish it from the other corrupt word called the conjunction at ; which for the same reason was written with the t only, though that likewise had anciently been written, as the preposition, either ad or at. The preposition to and the conjunction too in English, are both in syntax and in meaning used exactly as the preposition ad and the conjunction at in Latin. From the specimens prefixed to Johnson’s Dictionary, as a history of our language, it appears that, as late as the reign of Elizabeth, the preposition and conjunction were both written with one o. And it has been shown in the first volume of the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, that to and too, as well as ad and at, are precisely of the same import. The only difference, in either language, between the preposition and the conjunction, is, that the former directs, as a modification of some previous proposition, the addition of some substantive or noun; the latter, sometimes a sentence or clause of a sentence considered abstractedly as a noun; and that, when the former is used, the preposition to which the modifying circumstance is to be added, is formally expressed, but omitted when the latter is employed. Thus Denham says, Wisdom he has, and to his wisdom courage; Temper to that, and unto all success. In this example, every succeeding circumstance is by the preposition to marked as an addition to the preceding. “Wisdom he has, and courage additional to his wisdom.” But Denham might with equal propriety have omitted the object which to governs, or to which it directs something to be added, though he must then, from the custom of the language, have employed the conjunction instead of the preposition. As, Wisdom he has, and courage, too. That this mode of expression would have been more concise than, and as intelligible as, the other, “wisdom he has, and courage to bis wisdom,” must be evident to every one. Not only is the object governed by to omitted, when it is represented by a substantive in the context, but also when it is involved in a preposition; and then the conjunction, as it is caUed, is always used. Thus, Let those eyes that view The daring crime, behold the vengeance too. So, “He made him prisoner, and killed him too." In the one example, the circumstance of beholding the vengeance is stated as an addition to the viewing of the crime; and in the other, the killing him is stated as an addition to the making him a prisoner. In both examples, the object governed by too is the amount of the preceding proposition taken abstractedly as a noun or substantive. Thus then it appears, that to and too, though classed the one with the prepositions, and the other with the conjunctions, are really one and the same word. The same is true of ad and at. Thus, “ Ad hoc, promissa barba et capilli efferaverant speciem oris,” signifies “ Additional to this, his long beard and hair had given a wildness to his aspect.” But when the object governed by ad is not formally stated, ad itself is classed with the conjunctions, and written differently, at. Thus Terence, “ Ph. Fac ita ut jussi, deducantur isti. Pa. Faciam. Ph. At diligenter. Pa. Fiet. Ph. At mature.” By the means of at, the circumstances of diligence and haste are superadded to the action commanded. “ Ph. It is not enough that you do it; you must do it carefully too. Pa. well, it shall be carefuUy done. Ph. In good time too.” At, taken in this sense, is most commonly employed, like the English but, to mark the unexpected union of incongruous objects; as, “Aulam tyranni frequentabat, at patriam amabat literally, “He frequented the court of the tyrant; joined even to that he loved his country.” “He was a courtier and a patriot too." But if ad and at in Latin, and to and too in English, be derived from verbs which signify to do or act, it may be asked how they come themselves to denote addition. The answer is obvious. If a man should utter a sentence, and to the end of it subjoin the very general word do, the person to whom he spoke would naturally ask, do what? and this question would, of course, produce an additional sentence or clause of a sentence. Besides, it is to be observed, that agere, from which the Latin preposition is derived, as well as the Gothic verb, which is the source of the English particles, means not only to do, but also to adduce or bring; so that when we say, “he is going to Italy,” we do nothing more than affirm that “he is going,” and desire the person to whom we speak, “to add Italy to the journey.” From this derivation of the preposition to, it will be seen at once upon what principle it is employed to mark the infinitive mode-In the learned languages that mode is generally known by its termination; but in English it would be impossible, without the aid pf to, or of some other word significant of action, to distinguish the verb love from the noun or substantive. ] l Italy,” that is, “He is going, the end (of his journey) Italy “the sun is risen above the hills,” that is, “the sun is risen (the place) the top of the hills ·” “these figs came from Turkey,” that is “these figs came beginning (their journey at) Turkey.”

Besides the detached relation of body, Mr Harris is of opinion that the preposition from denotes two other relations not less different than those of motion and rest. Thus, if we say, “That lamp hangs from the ceiling,” the preposition from assumes a character of quiescence. But if we say, “That lamp is falling from the ceiling,” the preposition in such case assumes a character of motion. But this is evidently a mistake. The detached relation in the former instance of the figs, as well as the motion and rest in the present instances, are expressed not by the preposition, but by the verbs, came, fallt, hangs. The word from has as clear, as precise, and at all times as uniform and unequivocal a meaning, as any word in the language. From means merely beginning, and nothing else. It is simply the Anglo-Saxon and Gothic noun frum, beginning, origin, source, fountain, author. This derivation is Mr Horne Tooke’s; and he supports it by the following sentence: Ne rxdd ge se the on frumman worhte, he worhte wapman and wismcn; which is the Anglo-Saxon of St Matthew, xix. 4, “Annon legistis, quod qui eos in principio creavit, creavit eos marem et feminam ?” Now if this meaning be applied to Mr Harris’s instances, from will speak clearly for itself, without the assistance of the interpreting verbs, which are supposed by him to vary its character.
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These figs came from Turkey.

That lamp falls from the ceiling.

That lamp hangs from the ceiling.

Came is a complex term for one species of motion; falls is a complex term for another species of motion; and hangs is a complex^[48. These are complex terms because they are verbs. Each denotes an affirmation and time; and, combined with these, came and falls denote motion, and hangs denotes rest. ] term for a species of attachment. Have we occasion to communicate or mention the commencement or beginning of these motions, and of this attachment, and also the place where they commence or begin? To have complex terms for each occasion of this sort is absolutely impossible; and therefore nothing can be more natural or more simple than to add the signs of those ideas, viz. the word beginning, which will remain always the same, and the name of the place, which will perpetually vary. Thus,

These figs came— beginning Turkey.

That lamp falls— beginning ceiling.

That lamp hangs— beginning ceiling.

That is,

Turkey the place of beginning to come. Ceiling the place of beginning to fall. Ceiling the place of beginning to hang.

It has been said by no less a man than Bishop Wilkins, that from refers primarily to place, and secondarily to time. But the truth is, that from relates to every thing to which beginning relates, and to nothing else.

From mom till night the eternal larum rang.

That is, the “larum rang beginning morning,” or morning being the time of its beginning, till night.

As from always denotes beginning, so to and till always denote the end. There is, however, this difference between them, that to denotes the end of any thing; till the end only of time. We may say indifferently, “From mom to night,” or “from morn till night, the eternal larum tang but we cannot say, “These figs came from Turkey till England.” That till can, with propriety, be opposed to from only when we are talking of time, is evident; for it is a word compounded of to and while, that is, time. And as the coalescence of these two words to-whiĭe took place in the language long before the present superfluous use of the article the, the phrase, “From morn till night” is neither more nor less than “From morn to time night.” When we say, “from morn to night,” the word time is omitted as unnecessary.

Besides from, Mr Harris mentions over as significant sometimes of motion and sometimes of rest; and quotes as instances the two following passages from Milton:

To support uneasy steps Over the burning marl.

Here, says he, over denotes motion. Again,

» He with looks of cordial love

Hung over her enamoured.

Here over denotes rest. But the truth is, that over denotes neither motion nor rest in either of these passages. In the first quotation, indeed, motion is implied; but it is implied in the word steps, and not in over, which denotes only that the place of the steps was the top of the burning marl. In the second quotation, rest is implied, and that too a particular species of rest; but it is implied, or rather expressed, by the verb hung, and over denotes the place of that species of rest.

But though the original use of prepositions was to denote the relations of body, they could not be confined to this office only. They by degrees extended themselves to subjects incorporeal, and came to denote relations, as well intellectual as local. Thus, because in point of place he who is above has commonly the advantage of him who is below; hence we transfer over and under Under and beneath , though by the sound they seem to have little connection, are yet in fact almost the same word, and may very well supply each other’s place. Under is nothing but on-neder, and beneath is compounded of the imperative be and the noun ncath. Neath uncompounded having slipped away from our language, would perhaps be unintelligible, had not the nouns nether and nethermost still continued in common use. Neałh , Anglo-Saxon, ncothan, ncothe ; Dutch, neden ; Danish, ned ; German, niedre ; and Swedish, nedre and neder; is undoubtedly as much a substantive, and has the same meaning, as the word nadir. In common language it denotes the bottom. to dominion and obedience. Of a king we say, ’ ∙ lie ruled over his people and of a soldier, “he served under his general.” So too we say, with thought; without attention; thinking over a subject; under anxiety; from fear; through jealousy, and the like. All which instances, with many others of a similar kind, show that the first words of men, like their first ideas, had an immediate reference to sensible objects; and that in after days, when they began to discern with their intellect, they took those words which they found already made, and transferred them by metaphor to intellectual conceptions.

Amongst the relations which may be considered rather as intellectual than corporeal, are those of cause and consequence; and for the denoting of these we have two prepositions, which sometimes appear in direct opposition to one another, and at other times may exchange places without injury to the sense.

“Well! ’ tis e’en so! I have the London disease they call love. I am sick of my husband, and for my gallant.” (Wycherley’s Country Wife.)

Here of and for seem almost placed in opposition; at least their effects in the sentence appear to be very different; for, by the help of these two prepositions alone, and without the assistance of any other words, she expresses the two contrary affections of loathing and desire. The truth, however, is, that the author, if it had pleased him, might have used of where he has employed for, and for where he has put of. This is evident from the following quotation from the Sad Shepherd: Marian. Come, Amie, you’ll go with us.

Amie. I am not well.

Lionel. She’s sick of the young shepherd that bekist her.

In the same manner we may, with equal propriety, say, “We are sick of hunger ;” or, “We are sick for hunger.” And in both cases we shall have expressed precisely the same thing, with only this difference, that, in the former sentence, we declare sickness to be a consequence ; in the latter we declare hunger to be a cause. But to return to the Country Wife, that poor lady seems to have had a complication of distempers; she had at least two disorders; a sickness of loathing, and a sickness of love. She was sick for disgust, and sick for love. She was

Sick of disgust for her husband.

Sick of love for her gallant. Sick for disgust of her husband. Sick for love of her gallant.

In the first sentence, as thus stated, sickness is declared to be the consequence of disgust, of which her husband is declared to be the cause. In the second, sickness is declared to be the consequence of love, of which her gallant is declared to be the cause. In the third sentence, disgust is declared to be the cause of her sickness, and the consequence or offspring of her husband. In the fourth, love is declared to be the cause of her sickness, and the consequence or offspring of her gallant.
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Thus, then, it appears, that though the first two of these sentences, taken entire, convey the very same meaning with the last two, yet the import of the preposition for is as different from that of of, as cause is from consequence. ^[50. Junius derives for from the Greek «;·; Skinner from the Latin pro ; but I believe, says Mr Horne Tooke, that it is no other than the Gothic substantive fairina, caute. He imagines also that of, in the Gothic and Anglo-Saxon of, is a fragment of the Gothic and Saxon words λfλrλ and afora, poiteritaι, prolcι. In a word, he considers for and of as nouns or substantives; the former always meaning caute, the latter always meaning contequence, offspring, tuccetior, follower, &c. If this account of these words be just, and we have no doubt of it, the prepositions for and of are in syntax to be considered as nouns in apposition with other nouns, or with sentences taken abstractedly as nouns. ] When two words or sentences are linked together by the former of these prepositions, the object expressed by the last word or sentence is declared to be the cause of that which is expressed by the preceding; when two words or sentences are linked together by the latter preposition, the object expressed by the first word or sentence is declared to be the consequence of, or to proceed from, the object expressed by the second. It is therefore a matter of perfect indifference to the sense whether we say “sickness of hunger,” or “sickness for hunger “the man, of he speaks little, is wise,” or “the man is wise, for he speaks little.” By means of the preposition of, we declare sickness to be the consequence proceeding from hunger, and wisdom to be the consequence we infer from the man’s speaking little; by means of for, we declare hunger to be the cause of sickness, and the circumstance of speaking little to be the cause from which we infer the man’s wisdom. In the one sentence, of is to be considered as a noun in apposition to sickness ; in the other, as a noun in apposition to the man. is wise taken abstractedly as a noun. In the one sentence∕or (id est, cause) is to be considered as a noun in apposition to hunger ; in the other, as the same noun in apposition to he speaks little taken abstractedly as a noun.

In· the foregoing use of prepositions, we have seen how they are applied by way of juxtaposition; that is to say, where they are prefixed to a word without becoming a part of it. But they are used also by way of composition; that is, they are prefixed to other words so as to become real parts of them. Thus in Greek we have iitiβrasi)aι ; in Latin, intelligere ; and in English, usDERStand. So also, to F0REtell, or ovERact, to VNDERυalue, to owgo ; and in Greek and Latin other instances innumerable. In this case the prepositions commonly transfuse somet hing of their own peculiar meaning into the word with which they are compounded. For example, if we suppose some given space, E and ex signify out of that space; per, through it; in, within it ; sub, under it. Hence, e and per, in composition, augment: Enormis is something not simply big, but big in excess; something got out of the rule, and beyond the measure. Dico “ to speak εdico “to speak out ;” whence εdictum, “an edict,” something so effectually spoken that all are supposed to hear and to obey. On the contrary, in and sub diminish and lessen. I'κjuslus, inì- quus, “UNjust, iNequitable something that lies within justice and equity, that reaches not so far, that falls short of them. SuBniger, “blackish ;” svBrubicundus, “reddish; tending to black, and tending to red; but yet under the standard, and below perfection.

Before we dismiss this part of our subject, we shall make the same general remark upon prepositions which we formerly made on conjunctions, viz. that the precise import of each can with certainty be known only by tracing it to its source in some word of known and determinate meaning, either in the language where the preposition itself has place, or in some parent or cognate tongue. And it may be laid down as an infallible rule, that where different languages use the same or a similar particle, that language ought to be considered as its legitimate parent, in which the true meaning of the word can be found, and where its use is as common and familiar as that of any other verbs and substantives. When prepositions can be traced to such sources as these, no room can be left for disputes concerning their meaning. In carrying on this etymological pursuit, we find advantages in the nature of prepositions which conjunctions do not afford us. With and without, from and to, with many other words belonging to this class, have meanings directly opposite and contradictory to each other. It, then, by the total or partial extinction of an original language, the root of any one preposition be lost, whilst that of its opposite remains, the philosopher ought to be satisfied with reasoning from contrariety, as nothing is more evident than that the meaning of a word is known when we know with precision the meaning of its opposite. When we meet, however, with a luckless preposition of which no root is left to be dug up, and which has itself no direct opposite in the language, nothing remains but that we inquire for what purpose it is used by the best writers both ancient and modem; and if we can fix upon one meaning which will apply, however awkwardly, to all the places where it occurs, or to the greater part of them, the probability is, that we have discovered the true and original meaning of the preposition;^[51. For instance, let us suppose that Mr Home Tooke’s derivation of for, from the Gothic substantive fairina, is fencifol and ill founded; yet there can be little doubt but caute is its true and original meaning, when it is found, that of sixteen examples brought by Greenwood and forty-six by Johnson, of different significations of the word/»·, there is not one where the noun caute may not be substituted instead of the preposition for ; sometimes indeed awkwardly enough, but always without injury to the sense. Even where Jbr seems to be loco alteriut, which Lowth asserts to be its primary sense, it will be found to be caute, and nothing else. Thus, “He made considerable progress in the study of the law before be quitted that profession Jbr this of poetry that is, “before he quitted that profession, this of poetry” being the cauιe of his quitting it. ] and by keeping that meaning constantly in view, we shall ourselves be enabled to use the word with perspicuity and precision.

3. Of Interjections.

Besides the above parts of speech, there is another acknowledged in all the languages ofEurope, called the interjection ; a word which cannot be comprehended under any of the foregoing classes. The genuine interjections are very few in number, and of very little importance, as they are thrown into a sentence without altering its form either in syntax or in signification. In the words of Mr Horne Tooke, the brutish inarticulate interjection has nothing to do with speech, and is only the miserable refuge of the speechless. The dominion of speech, according to the same author, is erected on the downfall of interjections. Without the artful contrivances of language, mankind would have nothing but interjections with which to communicate orally any of their feelings. “The neighing of a horse, the lowing of a cow, the barking of a dog, the purring of a cat, sneezing, coughing, groaning, shrieking, and every other involuntary convulsion with oral sound, have almost as good a title to be called parts of speech as interjections. In the intercourse of language, interjections are employed only when the suddenness or vehemence of some affection or passion returns men to their natural state, and makes them for a moment forget the use of speech; or when, from some circumstance, the shortness of speech will not permit them to exercise it.” The genuine interjection, which is always expressive of some very strong sensation, such as ah ! when we feel pain, does not owe [7:10:683] its characteristical expression to the arbitrary form of articulation, but derives its whole force from the tone of voice and modification of countenance and gesture. Of consequence, these tones and gestures express the same meaning, without any relation whatever to the articulation they may assume; and are therefore universally understood by all mankind. Voluntary inteijections are used in books only for embellishment, and to mark forcibly a strong emotion. But where speech can be employed, they are totally useless, and are always insufficient for the purpose of communicating thought. Dr Beattie ranks strange, prodigious, amazing, wonderful, 0 dear, dear me, &c. when used alone, and without apparent grammatical syntax, amongst the interjections; but he might with as much propriety have considered hardly, truly, really, and even many Latin verbs, as interjections; for these too are often used alone to supply the place of whole sentences. The truth is, that all men, when suddenly and violently agitated, have a strong tendency to shorten their discourse by employing a single word to express a sentiment. In such cases, the word employed, whether noun, adjective, or verb, would be the principal word of the sentence, if that sentence were completed; and the agitation of the speaker is such, and the cause of it so obvious, that the hearer is in no danger of mistaking the sense, and can himself supply the words which are wanting. Thus, if a person, after listening to a romantic narrative, were to exclaim, strange! would any man of common sense suppose, that the word strange, because uttered alone, had lost the power of an adjective and become an interjection? No, surely; every one sees that the exclamation is equivalent to, “that is strange" or “that is a strange story.” Real interjections are never employed to convey truth of any kind. They are not to be found amongst laws, in books of civil institutions, in history, or in any treatise of useful arts or sciences; but in rhetoric and poetry, in novels, plays, and romances, where in English, so far from giving pathos to the style, they have generally an effect that is disgusting or ridiculous.

Having now analysed every part of speech which can be necessary for the communication of thought, or which is acknowledged in any language with which we are acquainted, we shall dismiss the subject, after annexing an abstract, which may present at one view the several classes and subdivisions of words. Of the different modes of dividing the parts of speech, as well as of the little importance of systematic classifications, we have already declared our decided opinion; but for the sake of those who may think differently from us, we shall in the abstract subjoined adopt Mr Harris’s classification as far as it is intelligible; after informing our readers that Mr Horne Tooke admits only three parts of speech, the article, the noun, and the verb, and considers all other words as corruptions or abbreviations of the two last of these.