Chapter XXVI: Preface: To a New and Improved Grammar of the English Tongue

It is a circumstance which may at first excite some surprise, that, amidst the various improvements in books of modern education, there has hitherto been no such thing as a real English Grammar. Those which we have are little else than translations of the Latin Grammar into English. We shall, however, no longer wonder at this circumstance, when we recollect that the Latin Grammar was regularly taught in our schools several centuries before any attempt was made to introduce the study of the mother-tongue; and that even since some attention has been paid to the latter, the study of the learned languages still having the precedence, our first notions of grammar are necessarily derived from them. Those who have written on the subject have not been exempt from the influence of early prejudice, and instead of correcting the error, have strengthened it.

The following is an attempt to explain the principles of the English language, such as it really is. We have endeavoured to admit no distinctions, which, but for our acquaintance with other languages, we should never have suspected to exist. The common method of teaching English grammar by transferring the artificial rules of other languages to our own, not only occasions much unnecessary trouble and perplexity; but by loading the memory with mere technical formalities, accustoms the mind to one of the worst habits that can be,—that of mistaking words for things, and of admitting a distinction without a difference. We might here refer particularly to the accounts given, in the most approved and popular grammars, of the genders, and the objective case of English nouns, that is, of a case without any difference of termination, and of genders without any mark denoting sex, &c. &c. In this respect the French seem to have much the advantage of us; as their grammars are, generally speaking, real descriptions of their language, not a fanciful and laboured account of what has no where any existence.

It is now above twenty years since Mr. Horne Tooke published his celebrated work on grammar, called the Diversions of Purley. Though this has produced a very important change in the theory of language, no notice has been taken of it by grammarians in their definitions of the Parts of Speech, or in that branch of grammar which usurps the name of Etymology—an almost inexcusable neglect in those whose professed business it was to instruct others in the nature and origin of language. It is the object of the following compilation to take advantage of the discoveries contained in that work, without adopting its errors.[73]

The soundest and most useful parts of Mr. T.’s system, are his researches into the origin of indeclinable words, and we have engrafted the result of most of these into our little work, so far at least as to make the subject intelligible to the learner, though if we have merely excited his curiosity, we shall not have entirely failed in our object.

The practical rules and observations in the following work are almost entirely selected from other works of the same kind: if it should be thought to have any advantage over them, it must be chiefly in the theoretical and logical part. We shall here therefore present the reader with a short general view of the subject, to enable him to judge in what we differ from others, and whether it is for the better or worse.

It is common to suppose that the parts of speech, or different sorts of words, relate to different sorts of things or ideas; and that it was to express this difference in the subject-matter of discourse, that one class of words was originally appropriated to one class of things, and another to another. We have endeavoured to show on the contrary, that the grammatical distinctions of words do not relate to the nature of the things or ideas spoken of, but to our manner of speaking of them, _i.e._ to the particular point of view in which we have occasion to consider them, or combine them with others in the same discourse. The difference between a substantive and an adjective for instance, does not depend on the intrinsical nature of the object we think or speak of, but on its being that concerning which we affirm something, or that which we affirm of it. So if we say that snow is white, snow, the name of the subject of discourse, is a substantive, and white, the name of the quality we attribute to it, is an adjective, not because snow is a substance, and white a quality, for we may speak of a snowy mountain, or say that whiteness is hurtful to the eyes, when these words will change their character, though the things themselves cannot. The things themselves do not change, but it is we who view them in a different connection with other things, and who accordingly use different sorts of words to show the difference of the situation which they occupy in our thoughts and discourse.

The article is generally left quite unexplained, a mere anomaly in language. We have endeavoured to show that it is either the numeral adjective (_un_, one) or that it belongs to the same class with the demonstrative pronouns, _this_, _that_, &c.

A substantive had been generally supposed to be a word expressing a real thing or substance, as A man, a tree, a house, &c. It was however found that this definition would exclude many words from being substantives, which are universally allowed to be so; for example, all words expressing qualities, actions, abstract ideas, &c. &c. such as, Whiteness, conquest, kingdom, virtue. The only definition which in common grammars has been substituted for this circumscribed one is as much too loose and general: for a substantive is defined by Lowth, Murray, &c., to be the name of any thing that exists, or of which we can form any notion. So that all words, _i.e._ all signs of our ideas, must be substantives. We believe that a substantive is neither the name of a thing, nor the name of a substance, but the name of a substance or of any other thing or idea, considered as it is in itself, or as a distinct individual. That is, it is not the name of a thing really subsisting by itself (according to the old definition), but of a thing _considered_ as subsisting by itself. So if we speak of _white_ as a circumstance or quality of snow, it is an adjective; but if we abstract the idea of _white_ from the substance to which it belongs, and consider this colour as it really is in itself, or as a distinct subject of discourse, it then becomes a substantive, as in the sentence, White or whiteness is hurtful to the sight.

Adjectives are constantly defined as if they were the names of certain qualities, and of no other class of ideas. It is evident from what has been said that this definition is fallacious. We speak of a _stony_ road, a _golden_ mountain, a _leather_ girdle, where the words marked in italics, and which refer to the substance of which a thing is made, not to its qualities, are confessedly adjectives. Any idea or thing, considered as a circumstance belonging to or connected with another, may be an adjective. An adjective therefore differs from a substantive, not from its expressing some _quality_ of a substance, but from its expressing any thing that is affirmed of or connected with another, to wit, its quality, number, form, size, substance, situation, &c. &c., as may be seen in the instances, A _white_ horse, A _tenth_ part, A _round_ table, A _small_ book, An _iron_ crown, A _sea_ port. On the other hand, the characteristic difference between the adjective and the verb is, that the former expresses something that is usually known to belong to a thing, or which is taken for granted as a circumstance belonging to it; whereas the latter or the verb expresses something not usually belonging to a thing, or known to make a part of it, and which therefore forms the subject of a distinct proposition. The use of the adjective is to describe or define the subject of discourse, that of the verb to _mark_ any addition which the speaker wishes to make to it, or any circumstance respecting it which it is his immediate object to enforce upon the hearer. So if we speak of a ‘_poisonous_ plant,’ we take for granted the connection between the subject and the attribute as a thing of course, or as already understood; but if we say, ‘hemlock _poisons_, or _is poisonous_,’ we then distinguish this connection of ideas as one which we suppose the hearer to be ignorant of, or which we particularly wish to recal to his attention.

We have been led unintentionally in speaking of the adjectives to anticipate our account of the verb. Nothing can be more vague, unsatisfactory and confused than the definition commonly given of the last, namely, that it is a word signifying To be, To do, or To suffer. From this definition the student may be tempted to suppose that Being, Doing, and Suffering are three particular classes of ideas, which are always expressed by the verb, and by no other part of speech. Let us examine how far this is the case. To love, then, is a verb, because it expresses Being, Doing, or Suffering. Love (the substantive) is not a verb, and yet it surely expresses either Being, Doing, or Suffering. Battle, Conquest, &c., are the names of actions, yet they are not verbs, but substantives. Active, Hasty, Cowardly, are adjectives, all of them expressing Action, Suffering, Being, or a state of being. In fact, those who have made and adopted this definition, have sheltered its weakness under an ambiguous form of expression. If they had said that a verb is a word signifying Being, Doing, or Suffering, their account would not have been admitted. The prefix of the infinitive mood (To be, To do, &c.) is the only resemblance which the definition has to the subject. Instead of defining the verb, they make use of one. It remains however to show in what respect To Be, To Do, and To Suffer differ from Being, Doing, and Suffering. It cannot be in the subject-matter, or the ideas themselves, for these are the same.

Some persons have confined the signification of the verb to action. See Introduction to an Analytical Dictionary by David Booth. But this hypothesis, which is more determinate than the other, and at least aims at a meaning, is hardly tenable. The verb To Be does not express action. To belong to, To possess, To contain, To extend over, &c., do not express action, _i.e._ motion or change. Not to say that other classes of words, as nouns and adjectives, express action as well as verbs, as we have shown above. It would be better to say that a verb expresses some fact or event, that is to say, Being, Doing, or Suffering, as distinguished from a state of Being, Doing, or Suffering. But neither do all verbs express a single act or instance of a thing. When we say Two and two make four, we do not mean they do so in a single instance, but always. It is true, however, that verbs oftener express what happens to a thing, than what belongs to it, and that they do not express any proposition more generally than the nature of the subject requires. They make any thing known in a more marked and pointed, and therefore in a more limited manner. This secondary quality in the verb, however, seems to form the chief distinction between the participle and the adjective. Those indeed who make the participle an essential part of the verb, must adopt the definition here referred to, _viz._ that a verb is a word signifying a single, not a general attribution of one thing to another, or the actually being, doing, or suffering any thing, as distinct from a state of being, doing, or suffering. If we were to adopt any other definition of the verb than the one we have inserted, it would certainly be this. But we think it more consistent both with the particular meaning of words, and with the logic of grammar, to divide adjectives and verbs into words intended to express a _given_, or known connection between our ideas, and words intended to communicate a new or unknown one, than into words representing a continued connection between the subject and the attribute, and an accidental or momentary one.

We shall here just notice by the way the very unsatisfactory account of active and passive verbs given by grammarians. A verb is active, they say, when it denotes the doing of an action, passive when it denotes the receiving one. The words _To receive a blow_ will upon this principle signify the doing of an action, and to say _that an action is performed_ will signify the receiving one. In fact the notion of agency or passiveness has no necessary connection with the active and passive forms of verbs. For an attempt to explain this subject, we refer to the grammar itself.

A pronoun is a general term to express an individual. Thus by the words He, she, it, I, you, &c., we mean that particular person or thing, which occupies a certain situation in the discourse, the person speaking, or the person spoken to, &c. A pronoun is literally a word used instead of, or which supplies the place of a noun, because instead of mentioning the name of the individual, we only refer to it by some known circumstance of situation which ascertains the object we mean. Pronouns are therefore adjectives defining some circumstance of a thing, and put absolutely.

Adverbs are for the most part words expressing the circumstance, manner, degree, &c., of an action, or attribute. Some of them, however, as the words No, Yes, are properly abbreviations of whole sentences, that is, convey assent to or dissent from an entire proposition. The last of these words is in fact the French verb, _Ouis_, _I hear_, used as an indeclinable term, that is, a term having a definite sense and meaning like declinable words, but not varied to adapt it to different situations, because it is restricted by custom to a particular application. The same account may be given of the other indeclinable words. Prepositions and conjunctions are either nouns or verbs expressing certain ideas like other nouns and verbs, but which are now used only for a particular purpose, and in a particular manner; that is to say, they are abruptly inserted between other words or sentences to join them together, and point out some such abstract relation between them as is implied in the original words themselves. So when we say All except John, we do not mean to address ourselves formally to any person who is to except or leave out John, though the preposition Except is undoubtedly the imperative mood of the same verb. We merely mean to convey the abstract idea, that John is to be excepted from the observation we have made, or that what is true of the others is not true of him. So the word From is a noun originally signifying Beginning, and now inserted before another noun to point it out as the source, cause, or first instance of any thing: as He speaks _from_ (source) inspiration, or inspiration being the _cause_ of his speaking. Interjections are the last class of indeclinable words, and they admit of a similar explanation. For they are merely words, conveying some sudden burst of passion, and left standing by themselves without any regular connection with the rest of the discourse. We also give an interjectional form to half sentences, when we are hurried on by passion into the middle of what we mean to express without making any preparation, as ‘Oh virtue! how amiable thou art! _i.e._ _I cannot express_ how amiable thou art.’

We have thus gone through the different parts of the subject, in order to enable those who are conversant in such questions, to judge at one view of the merits or demerits of our plan. It is, we confess, a little different from others. But those, whose time is chiefly occupied in learning grammar, whether Latin or English, are not very strongly prejudiced in favour of established systems. The imperfections of those systems are obvious and unquestionable; and therefore an assiduous endeavour to improve upon them, and to place the fundamental articles of grammatical knowledge on a clearer and more intelligible footing without implicitly subscribing to error and absurdity merely because they are old, can scarcely fail to be received with favour, and examined with fairness, by competent judges.

NOTES

A REPLY TO THE ESSAY ON POPULATION

Thomas Robert Malthus’s (1766–1834) _Essay on the Principle of Population as it affects the Future Improvement of Society_ was published anonymously in 1798. The second edition ‘very much enlarged’ appeared with the author’s name in a large 4to volume in 1803. For a sketch of Malthus’s life and doctrine and of the Malthusian controversy, see Sir Leslie Stephen’s _The English Utilitarians_, II. 137–185 and 238–259. The references in the following notes are to the second (1803) edition of the Essay. Cf. Hazlitt’s essay on Malthus in _The Spirit of the Age, ante_, pp. 287–298, and the last five essays in _Political Essays_, vol. III. pp. 356–385. A paper by De Quincey, entitled ‘Malthus,’ in the _London Magazine_ for Oct. 1823, led to a brief controversy between De Quincey and Hazlitt, the particulars of which will be found in De Quincey’s _Works_ (ed. Masson), IX. pp. 3, 20–31. Hazlitt’s _Reply to Malthus_ was reviewed in the _Edinburgh Review_ for August 1810 (vol. xvi. p. 464), or rather, as Hazlitt complains, the title of his _Reply_ was prefixed to an article in the _Edinburgh_ ‘as a pretence for making a formal eulogy’ on Malthus’s work. Hazlitt thereupon wrote the following letter to Cobbett’s _Political Register_ (Nov. 24, 1810, vol. xviii. p. 1014) under the heading ‘Mr. Malthus and the Edinburgh Reviewers’:—

‘SIR,—The title-page of a pamphlet which I published some time ago, and part of which appeared in the Political Register in answer to the Essay on Population, having been lately prefixed to an article in the Edinburgh Review as a pretence for making a formal eulogy on that work, I take the liberty to request your insertion of a few queries, which may perhaps bring the dispute between Mr. Malthus’s admirers and his opponents, to some sort of issue. It will, however, first of all be proper to say something of the article in the Review. The writer of the article accuses the ‘anonymous’ writer of the reply to the Essay, of misrepresenting and misunderstanding his author, and undertakes to give a statement of the real principles of Mr. Malthus’s work. He at the same time informs us for whom this statement is intended, namely, for those who are not likely even to read the work itself, and who take their opinions on all subjects moral, political, and religious, from the periodical reports of the Edinburgh Review. For my own part, what I have to say will be addressed to those who have read Mr. Malthus’s work, and who may be disposed to form some opinion of their own on the subject.—The most remarkable circumstance in the Review is, that it is a complete confession of the force of the arguments which have been brought against the Essay. The defence here set up of it may indeed be regarded as the euthanasia of that performance. For in what does this defence consist but in an adoption, point by point, of the principal objections and limitation, which have been offered to Mr. Malthus’s system; and which being thus ingeniously applied to gloss its defects, the Reviewer charges those who had pointed them out with misrepresenting and vilifying the author? In fact, the advocates of this celebrated work do not at present defend its doctrines, but deny them. The only resource left them is that of screening its fallacies from the notice of the public by raising a cry of misrepresentation against those who attempt to expose them, and by holding a mask of flimsy affectation over the real and distinguishing features of the work. Scarcely a glimpse remains of the striking peculiarities of Mr. Malthus’s reasoning, his bold paradoxes dwindle by refined gradations into mere harmless common-places, and what is still more extraordinary, an almost entire coincidence of sentiment is found to subsist between the author of the essay and his most zealous opponents, if the ignorance and prejudices of the latter would but allow them to see it. Indeed the Edinburgh Reviewer gives pretty broad hints that neither friends nor foes have ever understood much of the matter, and kindly presents his readers for the first time, with the true key to this much admired production. He accordingly proceeds with considerable self-complacency to translate the language of the essay into the dialect of the Scotch school of economy, to put quite on one side the author’s geometrical and arithmetical ratios, which had wrought such wonders, to state that Mr. Malthus never pretended to make any new discovery, and to quote a passage from Adam Smith, which suggested the plan of his work; to shew that this far-famed work which has been so idly magnified, and so unjustly decried as overturning all the commonly received axioms of political philosophy, proves absolutely nothing with respect to the prospects of mankind or the means of social improvement, that the sole hopes either of the present or of future generations do not centre (strange to tell!) in the continuance of vice and misery, but in the gradual removal of these, by diffusing rational views of things and motives of action, and particularly by ameliorating the condition, securing the independence, and raising the spirit, of the lower classes of society; and finally that both the extent of population, and the degree of happiness enjoyed by the people of any country depend very much upon, and, as far as there is any difference observable between one country or state of society and another, are wholly regulated by political institutions, a good or bad government, moral habits, the state of civilization, commerce, or agriculture, the improvements in art or science, and a variety of other causes quite distinct from the sole mechanical principle of population. And, this Sir, is what the Reviewer imposes on his unsuspecting readers as the sum and substance, the true scope and effect of Mr. Malthus’s reasoning. It is in truth an almost literal recapitulation of the chief topics insisted on in the Reply to the Essay, which the Reviewer seems silently to regard as a kind of necessary supplement to that work.—In this account it is evident, both that Mr. Malthus’s pretentions as an original discoverer are given up by the Reviewer, and that his obnoxious and extravagant conclusions are carefully suppressed. Now with regard to the general principle of the disproportion between the power of increase in population, and in the means of subsistence, and the necessity of providing some checks, moral or physical, to the former, in order to keep it on a level with the means of subsistence, I have never in any instance called in question either of “these important and radical facts,” which it is the business of Mr. M.’s work to illustrate. All that I undertook in the Reply to the Essay was to disprove Mr. Malthus’s claim to the discovery of these facts, and to shew that he had drawn some very false and sophistical conclusions from them, which do not appear in the article in the Review. As far therefore as relates to the Edinburgh Reviewers, and their readers, I might consider my aim as accomplished, and leave Mr. Malthus’s system and pretensions in the hands of these friendly critics, who will hardly set the seal of their authority—on either one or the other, till they have reduced both to something like their own ordinary standard. But against this I have several reasons. First, as I never looked upon Mr. Malthus as “a man of no mark or likelihood,”[74] I should be sorry to see him dandled into insignificance, and made a mere puppet in the hands of the Reviewers. Secondly, I in some measure owe it to myself to prove that the objections I have brought against his system are not the phantoms of my own imagination. Thirdly, Mr. Malthus’s work cannot be considered as entirely superseded by the account of it in the Review, as there are, no doubt, many persons who will still take their opinion of Mr. Malthus’s doctrines from his own writings, and abide by what they find in the text as good authority and sound argument, though not sanctioned in the Commentary.—I will therefore proceed to put the questions I at first proposed as the best means I can devise for determining, both what the contents of Mr. Malthus’s work really are, and to what degree of credit they are entitled, or how far they are true or false, original or borrowed.’

The queries which follow were with a few alterations republished by Hazlitt in _The Examiner_ (Oct. 29, 1815—The _Round Table_, No. 23) and in _Political Essays_ (vol. III. pp. 381–5). The alterations are almost entirely confined to the omission of all reference to the _Edinburgh Review_, for which Hazlitt himself had begun to write in 1814. The letter concludes as follows: ‘The drift of these questions, is, I believe, sufficiently obvious and direct; but if they should not be thought clear enough in themselves, I am ready to add a suitable commentary to them, by collating a convenient number of passages from the Essay, the Reply, and the Review.’

PAGE

1. LETTER I. First published in Cobbett’s _Political Register_, March
14, 1807: xi. 398.

_The proposed alteration._ Hazlitt alludes to the poor-law bill of
Samuel Whitbread (1758–1815), introduced on February 19, 1807.
One of the main features of the scheme was the establishment of
a system of free education. The bill was attacked not only by
Cobbett (_Political Register_, August, September, and October,
1807), and Hazlitt, but also by Malthus. Portions of the scheme
passed their second readings as separate bills, but were
abandoned. See Martineau, _History of the Peace_, I. 116.

2. ‘_Who have none to help them._’ _Job_, xxix. 12.

‘_Pride and covetousness._’ _St. Mark_, vii. 22.

‘_The compunctious visitings of nature._’ _Macbeth_, Act I. Scene
5.

‘_Laying the flattering unction._’ _Hamlet_, Act III. Scene 4.

‘_Grinding the faces of the poor._’ _Isaiah_, iii. 15.

_Mandeville._ He refers to Bernard Mandeville (1670?–1733), whose
_Fable of the Bees, or Private Vices Public Benefits_, appeared
in 1714.

‘_Will but skin and film_,’ _etc._ _Hamlet_, Act III. Scene 4.

Note. _The late Sir W. Pulteney._ Sir William Johnstone Pulteney,
5th bart. of Westerhall (1721–1805), M.P. for Shrewsbury in
seven successive parliaments. His name was originally Johnstone,
but he took the name of Pulteney on marrying the youngest
daughter and heiress of Daniel Pulteney, Lord of the Admiralty
in Sir R. Walpole’s Ministry. ‘In private life he was remarked
principally for his frugal habits, which were perhaps the more
striking, as he was supposed to be the richest Commoner in the
kingdom.... In the latter part of his life he was remarkable for
his abstemious manner of living, his food being composed of the
most simple nourishment, principally bread and milk.’
_Gentleman’s Magazine_, June, 1805, Vol. LXXV., p. 587. In 1804
he married the widow of Andrew Stuart, who fought a duel with
Thurlow in connection with the Douglas cause. Cf. _ante_, p.
298.

3. _In corpore vili._ This well known saying was quoted by Burke in
his great speech on conciliation with America. See _Select
Works_, ed. Payne, I. 224. The editor in a note (p. 325) quotes
from Menagiana (3rd ed., p. 129) an anecdote of Muretus which is
said to be the origin of the saying.

4. ‘_Baser matter._’ _Hamlet_, Act I. Scene 5.

5. _Leurre de dupe._ An expression of Rousseau’s (_Confessions_, Liv.
IV.).

_Unsuccessful endeavours_, _etc._ Hazlitt refers to Whitbread’s
management of the impeachment of Lord Melville for malversation
as Treasurer of the Navy. Melville was acquitted on June 12,
1806.

6. _The celebrated Howard._ John Howard died of camp fever at Kerson
on January 20, 1790, while investigating the condition of
Russian military hospitals.

_The ‘champion,’_ _etc._ A reference to Pitt’s description of
Buonaparte as ‘the child and champion of Jacobinism. See Vol.
III., note to page 99.

7. ‘_The latter end_,’ _etc._ _Tempest_, Act II. Scene 1.