CONVERSATION. CONVERSATION; ITS FAULTS AND ITS GRACES. COMPILED BY ANDREW P. PEABODY. * * * * * BOSTON AND CAMBRIDGE: JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY. M DCCC LV. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. CAMBRIDGE: THURSTON AND TORRY, PRINTERS. DEDICATED TO AMERICAN TEACHERS. ADVERTISEMENT. THE Compiler has attempted to bring together in this little volume the principles which should govern conversation among persons of true refinement of mind and character, and to point out some of the most common and easily besetting vulgarisms occurring in the colloquial English of our country and day. Part I. is an Address delivered before a Young Ladies' School, in Newburyport. Part II. is a Lecture addressed to the Literary, Scientific and Mechanics' Institution at Reading, England. Part III. is a reprint from the fourth English edition of "A Word to the Wise, or Hints on the Current Improprieties of Expression in Writing and Speaking," by Parry Gwynne, a few passages not applicable to the habits of American society being omitted. Part IV. is composed of selections from two little English books, entitled, "Never too late to Learn: Mistakes of daily occurrence in Speaking, Writing and Pronunciation corrected;" and "Common Blunders in Speaking and Writing." PART I. AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE NEWBURYPORT FEMALE HIGH SCHOOL, DECEMBER 19, 1846, BY ANDREW P. PEABODY. YOUNG LADIES, You have made me happy by your kind invitation to meet you, and to address you on this anniversary. A day spent in this room at your annual examination, nearly two years ago, was a season of privilege and enjoyment not readily to be forgotten. I had previously entertained a high regard for your instructor. I then learned to know him by his work; and, were he not here, I should be glad to extend beyond a single sentence my congratulations with you that you are his pupils. I have said that I accepted your invitation with gladness. Yet, in preparing myself to meet you, I find a degree of embarrassment. This is for you a season of recreation,--a high festival; and I am accustomed to use my pen and voice only on grave occasions, and for solemn services. I know not how to add to your amusement. Should I undertake to make sport for you, my awkwardness would give you more mirth than my wit. The best that I can do is to select some subject that is or ought to be interesting to you, and to endeavor to blend a little instruction with the gayer and more lively notes of the occasion. The lesson shall be neither tediously long nor needlessly grave. I propose to offer you a few hints on _conversation_. How large a portion of life does it fill up! How innumerable are its ministries and its uses! It is the most refined species of recreation,--the most sparkling source of merriment. It interweaves with a never-resting shuttle the bonds of domestic sympathy. It fastens the ties of friendship, and runs along the golden links of the chain of love. It enriches charity, and makes the gift twice blessed. There is, perhaps, a peculiar appropriateness in the selection of this topic for an address to young ladies; for they do more than any other class in the community towards establishing the general tone and standard of social intercourse. The voices of many of you already, I doubt not, strike the key-note of home conversation; and you are fast approaching an age when you will take prominent places in general society; will be the objects of peculiar regard; and will, in a great measure, determine whether the social converse in your respective circles shall be vulgar or refined, censorious or kindly, frivolous or dignified. It was said by a wise man of antiquity,--"Only give me the making of songs for the people, and I care not who makes the laws." In our unmusical age and land, talking occupies the place which songs did among the melody-loving Greeks; and he who could tune the many-voiced harp of the social party, need crave no higher office or more potent sway. Permit me now to enumerate some of the characteristics of graceful, elegant, and profitable conversation, commencing with the lower graces, and passing on to the higher. Let me first beg you, if you would be good talkers, to form and fix now, (for you can do this only now,) habits of correct and easy pronunciation. The words which you now miscall, it will cost you great pains in after life to pronounce aright, and you will always be in danger of returning inadvertently to your old pronunciation. There are two extremes which you ought equally to shun. One is that of carelessness; the other, that of extreme precision, as if the sound of the words uttered were constantly uppermost in the mind. This last fault always suggests the idea of vanity and pedantry, and is of itself enough to add a deep indigo hue to a young lady's reputation. One great fault of New England pronunciation is, that the work is performed too much by the outer organs of speech. The tones of the voice have but little depth. Instead of a generous play of the throat and lungs, the throat almost closes, and the voice seems to be formed in the mouth. It is this that gives what is called a _nasal_ tone to the voice, which, when denied free range through its lawful avenues, rushes in part through the nose. We notice the nasal pronunciation in excess here and there in an individual, while Englishmen and Southerners observe it as a prevailing characteristic of all classes of people in the Northern States. Southerners in general are much less careful and accurate in pronunciation than we are; but they more than compensate for this deficiency by the full, round tones in which they utter themselves. In our superficial use of the organs of speech, there are some consonants which we are prone to omit altogether. This is especially the case with _g_ in words that end with _ing_. Nine persons out of ten say _singin_ instead of _singing_. I know some public speakers, and many private ones, who never pronounce the _t_ in such words as _object_ and _prospect_. Very few persons give the right sound to _r_ final. _Far_ is generally pronounced as if it were written _fah_. Now, I would not have the full Hibernian roll of the _r_; but I would have the presence of the letter more distinctly recognized, than it often is, even by persons of refined and fastidious taste. Let me next beg you to shun all the ungrammatical vulgarisms which are often heard, but which never fail to grate harshly on a well-tuned ear. If you permit yourselves to use them now, you will never get rid of them. I know a venerable and accomplished lawyer, who has stood at the head of his profession in this State, and has moved in the most refined society for half a century, who to this day says _haint_ for _has not_, having acquired the habit when a schoolboy. I have known persons who have for years tried unsuccessfully to break themselves of saying _done_ for _did_, and _you and I_ for _you and me_. Many well-educated persons, through the power of long habit, persist in saying _shew_ for _showed_, while they know perfectly well that they might, with equal propriety, substitute _snew_ for _snowed_; and there is not far hence a clergyman, marvellously precise and fastidious in his choice of words, who is very apt to commence his sermon by saying, "I _shew_ you in a recent discourse." A false delicacy has very generally introduced _drank_ as the perfect participle of _drink_, instead of _drunk_, which alone has any respectable authority in its favor; and the imperfect tense and perfect participle have been similarly confounded in many other cases. I know not what grammar you use in this school. I trust that it is an old one; for some of the new grammars sanction these vulgarisms, and in looking over their tables of irregular verbs, I have sometimes half expected to have the book dashed from my hand by the indignant ghost of Lindley Murray. Great care and discretion should be employed in the use of the common abbreviations of the negative forms of the substantive and auxiliary verbs. _Can't_, _don't_, and _haven't_, are admissible in rapid conversation on trivial subjects. _Isn't_ and _hasn't_ are more harsh, yet tolerated by respectable usage. _Didn't_, _couldn't_, _wouldn't_, and _shouldn't_, make as unpleasant combinations of consonants as can well be uttered, and fall short but by one remove of those unutterable names of Polish gentlemen which sometimes excite our wonder in the columns of a newspaper. _Won't_ for _will not_, and _aint_ for _is not_ or _are not_, are absolutely vulgar; and _aint_, for _has not_ or _have not_, is utterly intolerable. Nearly akin to these offences against good grammar is another untasteful practice, into which you are probably more in danger of falling, and which is a crying sin among young ladies,--I mean the use of exaggerated, extravagant forms of speech,--saying _splendid_ for _pretty_, _magnificent_ for _handsome_, _horrid_ for _very_, _horrible_ for _unpleasant_, _immense_ for _large_, _thousands_ or _myriads_ for any number greater than _two_. Were I to write down, for one day, the conversation of some young ladies of my acquaintance, and then to interpret it literally, it would imply that, within the compass of twelve or fourteen hours, they had met with more marvellous adventures and hair-breadth escapes, had passed through more distressing experiences, had seen more imposing spectacles, had endured more fright, and enjoyed more rapture, than would suffice for half a dozen common lives. This habit is attended with many inconveniences. It deprives you of the intelligible use of strong expressions when you need them. If you use them all the time, nobody understands or believes you when you use them in earnest. You are in the same predicament with the boy who cried WOLF so often, when there was no wolf, that nobody would go to his relief when the wolf came. This habit has also a very bad moral bearing. Our words have a reflex influence upon our characters. Exaggerated speech makes one careless of the truth. The habit of using words without regard to their rightful meaning, often leads one to distort facts, to misreport conversations, and to magnify statements, in matters in which the literal truth is important to be told. You can never trust the testimony of one who in common conversation is indifferent to the import, and regardless of the power, of words. I am acquainted with persons whose representations of facts always need translation and correction, and who have utterly lost their reputation for veracity, solely through this habit of overstrained and extravagant speech. They do not mean to lie; but they have a dialect of their own, in which words bear an entirely different sense from that given to them in the daily intercourse of discreet and sober people. In this connection, it may not be amiss to notice a certain class of phrases, often employed to fill out and dilute sentences, such as, _I'm sure_,--_I declare_,--_That's a fact_,--_You know_,--_I want to know_,--_Did you ever?_--_Well! I never_,--and the like. All these forms of speech disfigure conversation, weaken the force of the assertions or statements with which they are connected, and give unfavorable impressions as to the good breeding of the person that uses them. You will be surprised, young ladies, to hear me add to these counsels,--"Above all things, swear not at all." Yet there is a great deal of swearing among those who would shudder at the very thought of being profane. The Jews, who were afraid to use the most sacred names in common speech, were accustomed to swear by the temple, by the altar, and by their own heads; and these oaths were rebuked and forbidden by divine authority. I know not why the rebuke and prohibition apply not with full force to the numerous oaths by _goodness_, _faith_, _patience_, and _mercy_, which we hear from lips that mean to be neither coarse nor irreverent, in the schoolroom, street, and parlor; and a moment's reflection will convince any well-disposed person, that, in the exclamation _Lor_, the cutting off of a single letter from a consecrated word can hardly save one from the censure and the penalty written in the third commandment. I do not regard these expressions as harmless. I believe them inconsistent with Christian laws of speech. Nor do they accord with the simple, quiet habit of mind and tone of feeling which are the most favorable to happiness and usefulness, and which sit as gracefully on gay and buoyant youth as on the sedateness of maturer years. The frame of mind in which a young lady says, in reply to a question, _Mercy! no_, is very different from that which prompts the simple, modest _no_. Were there any room for doubt, I should have some doubt of the truth of the former answer; for the unnatural, excited, fluttered state of mind implied in the use of the oath, might indicate either an unfitness to weigh the truth, or an unwillingness to acknowledge it. In fine, transparency is an essential attribute of all graceful and becoming speech. Language ought to represent the speaker's ideas, and neither more nor less. Exclamations, needless expletives, unmeaning extravagances, are as untasteful as the streamers of tattered finery which you sometimes see fluttering about the person of a dilapidated belle. Let your thoughts be as strong, as witty, as brilliant, as you can make them; but never seek to atone for feeble thought by large words, or to rig out foolish conceits in the spangled robe of genuine wit. Speak as you think and feel; and let the tongue always be an honest interpreter to the heart. But it is time that we passed to higher considerations. There are great laws of duty and religion which should govern our conversation; and the divine Teacher assures us that even for our idle words we are accountable to Him who has given us the power of speech. Now, I by no means believe that there is any principle of our religion which frowns upon wit or merriment, or forbids playful speech at fit seasons and within due limits. The very fact that the Almighty has created the muscles which produce the smile and the laugh, is a perpetual rebuke to those who would call all laughter madness, and all mirth folly. Amusement, in its time and place, is a great good; and I know of no amusement so refined, so worthy an intellectual being, as that conversation which is witty and still kind, playful, yet always reverent, which recreates from toil and care, but leaves no sting, and violates no principle of brotherly love or religious duty. Evil speaking, slander, detraction, gossip, scandal, are different names for one of the chief dangers to be guarded against in conversation; and you are doing much towards defending yourselves against it by the generous mental culture which you enjoy in this seminary. The demon of slander loves an empty house. A taste for scandal betrays a vacant mind. Furnish your minds, then, by useful reading and study, and by habits of reflection and mental industry, that you may be able to talk about subjects as well as about people,--about events too long past or too remote to be interwoven with slander. But, if you must talk about people, why not about their good traits and deeds? The truest ingenuity is that which brings hidden excellences to light; for virtue is in her very nature modest and retiring, while faults lie on the surface and are detected with half an eye. You will undoubtedly be careful to have your words always just and kind, if you will only take a sufficiently thorough view of the influence of your habits of conversation, both in the formation of your own characters and in determining the happiness of others. But how low an estimate do many of us make of the power of the tongue! How little account we are apt to take of our words! Have we not all at times said to ourselves, "Oh! it is only a word!" when it may have been sharp as a drawn sword, have given more pain than a score of blows, and done more harm than our hands could have wrought in a month? Why is it that the slanderer and the tale-bearer regard themselves as honest and worthy people, instead of feeling that they are accursed of God and man? It is because they deal in evil words only, and they consider words as mere nought. Why is it that the carping tongue, which filches a little from everybody's good name, can hardly utter itself without a sneer, and makes every fair character its prey, thinks better of itself than a petty pilferer would? It is because by long, though baseless prescription, the tongue has claimed for itself a license denied to every other member and faculty. But, in point of fact, your words not only express, but help create, your characters. Speech gives definiteness and permanence to your thoughts and feelings. The unuttered thought may fade from the memory,--may be chased away by better thoughts,--may, indeed, hardly be a part of your own mind; for, if suggested from without, and met without a welcome, and with disapproval and resistance, it is not yours. But by speech you adopt thoughts, and the voice that utters them is as a pen that engraves them indelibly on the soul. If you can suppress unkind thoughts, so that, when they rise in your breast, and mount to your very lips, you leave them unuttered, you are not on the whole unkind,--your better nature has the supremacy. But if these wrong feelings often find utterance, though you call it hasty utterance, there is reason to fear that they flow from a bitter fountain within. Consider, also, how large a portion speech makes up of the lives of all. It occupies the greater part of the waking hours of many of us; while express acts of a moral bearing, compared with our words, are rare and few. Indeed, in many departments of duty, words are our only possible deeds,--it is by words alone that we can perform or violate our duty. Many of the most important forms of charity are those of speech. Alms-giving is almost the only expression of charity of which the voice is not the chief minister; and alms, conferred in silent coldness, or with chiding or disdainful speech, freeze the spirit, though they may warm the body. Speech, too, is the sole medium of a countless host of domestic duties and observances. There are, indeed, in every community many whose only activity seems to be in words. There are many young ladies, released from the restraints of school, and many older ladies, with few or no domestic burdens, with no worldly avocation and no taste for reading, whose whole waking life, either at their own homes or from house to house, is given to the exercise, for good or evil, of the tongue,--that unruly member. And how blessed might they make that exercise,--for how many holy ministries of love, sympathy, and charity might it suffice,--how many wounds might it prevent or heal,--did they only believe and feel that they were writing out their own characters in their daily speech! But too many of them forget this. So long as they do not knowingly and absolutely lie, they feel no responsibility for their words. They deem themselves virtuous, because they refrain from vices to which they have not the shadow of a temptation; but carp, backbite, and carry ill reports from house to house, with an apostle's zeal and a martyr's devotedness. To say nothing of the social effect of such a life, is not the tongue thus employed working out spiritual death for the soul in whose service it is busy? I know of no images too vile to portray such a character. The dissection of a slanderer's or talebearer's heart would present the most loathsome specimen of morbid anatomy conceivable. It is full of the most malignant poison. Its life is all mean, low, serpent-like,--a life that cannot bear the light, but finds all its nourishment and growth in darkness. Were these foul and odious forms of speech incapable of harming others,--did human reptiles of this class creep about in some outward guise, in which they could be recognized by all, and their words be taken for what they are worth, and no more,--still I would beg them, for their own sakes, not to degrade God's image, in which they were created, into the likeness of a creeping thing; I would entreat them not to be guilty of the meanest and most miserable of all forms of spiritual suicide; I would beseech them, if they are determined to sell their souls, to get some better price for them than the scorn and dread of all whose esteem is worth having. In this connection, we ought to take into account the very large class of literally idle words. How many talk on unthinkingly and heedlessly, as if the swift exercise of the organs of speech were the great end of life! The most trivial news of the day, the concerns of the neighborhood, the floating gossip, whether good-natured or malignant, dress, food, frivolous surmises, paltry plans, vanities too light to remain an hour upon the memory,--these are the sole staple of what too many call conversation; and many are the young people who are training themselves in the use of speech for no higher or better purpose. But such persons have the threatened judgment visibly following their idle speech. Their minds grow superficial and shallow. They constantly lose ground, if they ever had any, as intellectual and moral beings. Such speech makes a person, of however genteel training, coarse and vulgar, and that not only in character, but even in voice and manners, and with sad frequency it obliterates traits of rich loveliness and promise. The merely idle tongue is also very readily betrayed into overt guilt. One cannot indulge in idle, reckless talk, without being implicated in all the current slander and calumny, and acquiring gradually the envious and malignant traits of a hackneyed tale-bearer. And the person who, in youth, can attract the attention and win the favor of those of little reflection by flippant and voluble discourse, will encounter in the very same circles neglect, disesteem, and dislike, before the meridian of life is passed; for it takes all the charms that youth, sprightliness, and high animal spirits can furnish, to make an idle tongue fascinating or even endurable. Let me ask you now to consider for a moment the influence which we exert in conversation upon the happiness or misery of others. It is not too much to say, that most of us do more good or harm in this way than in all other forms beside. Look around you,--take a survey of whatever there is of social or domestic unhappiness in the families to which you belong, or among your kindred and acquaintance. Nine tenths of it can be traced to no other cause than untrue, unkind, or ungoverned speech. A mere harsh word, repented of the next moment,--how great a fire can it kindle! The carrying back and forth of an idle tale, not worth an hour's thought, will often break up the closest intimacies. From every slanderous tongue you may trace numerous rills of bitterness, winding round from house to house, and separating those who ought to be united in the closest friendship. Could persons, who, with kind hearts, are yet hasty in speech, number up, at the close of a day, the feelings that they had wounded, and the uncomfortable sensations that they had caused, they would need no other motive to study suavity of manner, and to seek for their words the rich unction of a truly charitable spirit. Then, too, how many are the traits of suspicion, jealousy, and heart-burning, which go forth from every day's merely idle words, vain and vague surmises, uncharitable inferences and conjectures! These thoughts point to the necessity of religion as the guiding, controlling element in conversation. All conversation ought to be religious. Not that I would have persons always talking on what are commonly called religious subjects. Let these be talked of at fitting times and places, but never obtrusively brought forward or thrust in. But cannot common subjects be talked of religiously? Cannot we converse about our plans, our amusements, our reading, nay, and our neighbors too, and no sacred name be introduced, and yet the conversation be strictly religious? Yes,--if throughout the conversation we own the laws of honesty, frankness, kind construction, and sincere benevolence,--if our speech be pure, true, gentle, dignified,--if it seek or impart information that either party needs,--if it cherish friendly feeling,--if it give us kinder affections towards others,--if it bring our minds into vigorous exercise,--nay, if it barely amuse us, but not too long, and if the wit be free from coarseness and at no one's expense. But we should ever bear it in mind, that our words are all uttered in the hearing of an unseen Listener and Judge. Could we keep this in remembrance, there would be little in our speech that need give us shame or pain. But that half hour spent in holding up to ridicule one who has done you no harm,--that breathless haste to tell the last piece of slander,--you would not want to remember in your evening prayer. From the flippant, irresponsible, wasteful gossip, in which so much time is daily lost, you could not with a safe conscience look up and own an Almighty presence. Young ladies, my subject is a large one, and branches out into so many heads, that, were I to say all that I should be glad to say, the setting sun would stop me midway. But it is time for me to relieve your patience. Accept, with these fragmentary hints, my cordial congratulations and good wishes. Life now smiles before you, and beckons you onward. Heaven grant that your coming days may be even happier than you hope! To make them so is within your own power. They will not be cloudless. If you live long, disappointments and sorrows must come. There will be steep and rough passages in the way of life. But there is a Guide, in whose footprints you may climb the steep places without weariness, and tread the rough ground without stumbling. Add to your mental culture faith in Him, and the self-consecration of the Christian heart. Then even trials will make you happier. When clouds are over your way, rays from Heaven will struggle through their fissures, and fringe their edges. Your path will be onward and upward, ever easier, ever brighter. On that path may your early footsteps be planted, that the beautiful bloom of your youth may not wither and perish, but may ripen for a heavenly harvest! PART II. A LECTURE DELIVERED AT READING, ENGLAND, DECEMBER 19, 1854, BY FRANCIS TRENCH. WE are all of us more or less apt to overlook that which is continually going on around us. We omit to make it a matter of inquiry, and reserve our attention for that which is more rare, although of far less importance. What is it, for instance, which, after a course of long, sultry heat,--when the sun, day by day, has blazed in the sky above,--what is it, I ask, which has still preserved the verdure and freshness of all vegetable life? Surely it has been nothing else than the dew of heaven, gently, regularly, plenteously falling, as each evening closed in. Nevertheless, how little is it thought of,--how little are its benefits acknowledged! But when the clouds gather speedily and darkly, and perhaps unexpectedly, when the sense of coolness spreads once more through the parched atmosphere, when abundance of rain all at once descends, then all observe the change, all notice the beneficial results; yet perhaps they are trifling indeed compared with those of the nightly and forgotten dew, which has never ceased to fall, week by week, or even month by month, during the course of the drought. I feel no doubt that it will be acknowledged how it is the same, the very same, in all things calling for our observation. So, therefore, it is regarding conversation, as a thing of every day. We flock to hear and admire some mighty orator's address, but we think little of and little appreciate that daily, hourly thing which is our subject now,--I mean conversation. But I leave you to judge which has the most effect on our general interest, as social creatures,--which, in the long run, has most to do with the pleasure and the profit of all human intercourse. Having made this claim on your attention, I would now observe that the subject is one of so wide a scope that I can do little more than present you with a few thoughts, which I have noted down as they have risen to my own mind, upon it. And I trust that they will prove not entirely unacceptable, though well indeed aware that the topic is one to which it must be very difficult indeed to do any justice. But I must first try to meet one objection, for which I am quite prepared, namely, that conversation is not a fit subject for a lecture at all, but should be considered as too independent and free to have any rules, principles, or guidance applied to it. This, however, is indeed a fallacy, and may briefly be exposed by a few such questions as those I am about to ask. What should be more free than the sword of the soldier in the battle-day?--than the pencil of the artist at the mountain side?--or than the poet's song in its upward flight? Yet who would condemn the use of the drill, or the study of perspective, or the rules of poetic art? No less untenable is it to maintain that conversation can be subject to no principle, rule, or review, without checking its free and unfettered range. Cowper has simply summed up the whole truth:-- "Though conversation in its better part May be esteemed a gift, and not an art; Yet much depends, as in the tiller's toil, On culture and the sowing of the soil." Nor shall I venture to suggest any measures which I do not believe already well sanctioned, well honored, and well practised too, even by many who have never yet thought of classifying them at all. But these I shall freely give, as my duty is, at your summons this night. Conversation may be termed or defined as "the exchange and communication, by word, of that which is passing in the inward mind and heart." And none of all known creatures, except man, has this peculiar gift. The animal tribes approach us and even surpass us in many of their physical powers and capacities. As to their capacities in the five senses of the body, I conceive that, generally speaking, it is so; but none of them converse, like man, in expressive words, however they may and do comprehend one another through inferior means. Homer has therefore defined our race as "word-dividing men." And surely such a capacity or power is not bestowed on us unaccompanied by an obligation and a claim to give due diligence how we do and how we may employ it. Never to act thus is surely an undue disregard of our endowment,--a virtual depreciation and contempt of that which is at once among the most needful, the most useful, and, at the same time, most ornamental gifts of God to mankind. As, then, it is said of real wisdom, that first "it is pure," or free from error and wrong, so too, first of all, right and proper conversation must be free from everything evidently and positively inconsistent with our duty towards God and man. It has ever been well said that we must be just before we are generous. The one attribute is essential and indispensable in every transaction of life. The acts and deeds connected with the other are comparatively undefined and indefinable. So it is essential, it is indispensable, that our conversation, from our own choice and deliberate aim, should be utterly free from all things irreverent to God and injurious to our fellow-creatures. God's name must never be taken in vain. God's Word, and divine things generally, must never be treated with any levity. No sentence must come forth from our lips having any tendency to undermine or subvert the principles and practices of true religion. These are among the mere dues and obligations to Him who gives us the faculty of speech, and enables us to interchange conversation with our fellows; and, beyond all doubt, hour after hour of silence and reserve would be infinitely better--more to be desired by any Christian--than the most entertaining and most captivating talk of a witty but unprincipled man. And so too, exactly, with regard to our fellow-creatures. They too have an absolute claim on us, that we should resolutely keep to the grand rule of speaking to them only such things as will do them no hurt,--no hurt to their minds, no hurt to their feelings, no hurt to their best and true and everlasting interest. As the words of one lead many to heaven and joy, so too the words of another lead many to hell and woe. Better, again I say, would it be for you to be silent as a dumb man than to indulge carelessly and wickedly in any such utterances. He who does it is a cruel enemy of his fellow-creatures, however popular, however able and attractive he may be. Thus much with regard to conversation--on the negative side. Thus much as to that nature and character of which it must _not_ be, under any circumstances. And, having no intention to make my present address in any degree of that more solemn and absolutely serious kind, which it is my privilege so often to employ in my profession, I will only add here that, having now seen what it is essential and indispensable for us to shun in conversation, so again, to aim at pleasing God and serving our fellow-creatures is not less needful,--not less essential, as the one grand object and scope with which at all times we should use and interchange it. I am sure you will all admit that I could not rightly proceed without laying down this broad, this sure foundation. On it we may build the lighter superstructure; but, without laying it down, I could not conscientiously proceed. Nay, farther, I feel equally convinced that many would perceive at once the deficiency, and regret it too, were I to adopt any other course. Conversation, to be worthy of the name at all, is not child's play. It must be dealt with, if considered at all, as an important and substantial thing, not as the mere toy wherewith to trifle and sport each day and hour till we pass away to meet that judgment where our Lord has himself declared,--"By your words ye shall be justified, and by your words ye shall be condemned." The subject may now branch out into many and various directions. To make a choice is the only difficulty. One of these may lead us to notice that, in all conversation, special attention should ever be paid to the feelings of all present. Every subject should be studiously avoided likely to give needless pain, and perhaps, as it were, open the sluice-gate through which other observations might more plentifully flow in from others of the company, painful to one or more in the circle. Nothing, of course, will teach this so much as true kindness and true sympathy of heart; and, if this be wanting, offences of this kind will continually abound,--yes, I am sorry to say, will sometimes be studiously and intentionally committed. But even the most loving and most kindly spirit will do well to be very watchful on this point, seeking to exercise all judgment and tact in the matter; and even beyond this a beautiful art is sometimes to be witnessed,--happy indeed are they who possess it,--which turns and leads away the general strain of talk, and that often with unperceived skill, when approaching dangerous ground, or perhaps already beginning to grieve or disturb another. Among injurious practices in talk, the following may perhaps be enumerated:--an overbearing vehemence, challenging assertions, cold indifference to the statements of others, a love of argumentation, an inclination to regard fair liberty of mutual address as undue license, pressure on another to express more than he desires, all personalities which would be forbidden by the royal law of speaking unto others as you would like to be spoken to yourself. These and many more transgressions, in our address one to another, are not only of a grave, but also of a very evident kind, and therefore on them, perhaps, there is less need to dwell. Others are more subtle,--more elude the grasp of ordinary observation. All social life, and even all family life, if rightly carried on, requires not only mutual forbearance in talk, but mutual sympathy too, mutual encouragement one from the other. In families and in society we find the old, the young; the busy and those comparatively unemployed; the studious or the literary, and those whose tastes are completely different; people occupied in various professions and trades; politicians and statesmen; soldiers and sailors; young men and women reared up at home, with young men and women reared up at schools and public institutions; travellers acquainted with divers parts of the globe, and those who never have quitted their own land; men of the city and men of the field;--in a word, persons and characters almost as various in the aspect of their inward taste as the very features which each countenance wears,--for I may venture to say that no two persons think or feel exactly and altogether alike. Now, whenever there is such a thing as opinion, and whenever there is such a thing as feeling (which is the case in all members of families, and in all members of society with whom you can possibly live or be thrown), there at once is, or there arises, an immediate claim for a kind and proper treatment of these opinions and of these feelings. They may not be your own, they may be utterly different from your own, but that has nothing to do with the question. As a general rule, every one present has no less right to them than you have to yours. You had better go, like Shakspeare's Timon, altogether out of the concourse of your fellow-creatures, if you cannot realize this truth and apply it too. And it is in conversation that you will ever give the chief proofs and evidences whether you do so or not. In it there must be nothing despotic,--nothing to give any present the idea that you have any right to decide what his opinions, what his tastes, what his habits, what his pursuits, should be. You will, of course, not misunderstand me here,--not forget that I am supposing each opinion, each taste, each habit and pursuit, as, on the face of it, allowable and innocent, although not yours. I repeat it, there must be no despotism in society. Equality must prevail as a general rule; I say a general rule, because there are, no doubt, certain seasons and times when the intercourse of social and of family life must partake of that special character which is adapted to the various relationships of man. The parent must, at times, simply direct the child by his words. The teacher, authoritatively, must instruct the pupil. The master or employer must tell the employed what to do. And occasionally, in society, the rule above laid down will, by general consent, lie in abeyance, if it may be so expressed. And, on certain subjects,--I mean those whereon we are ourselves ignorant, but others in our company are highly informed,--we may be content to be just listeners, merely demonstrating that sympathy and interest adequate to keep up the flow of instruction from another's lips. But intercourse of this kind scarcely can be termed conversation; and when circumstances like these occur in social and family life, they must be directed by other rules not altogether applicable to our present subject. Now, to enter with full sympathy into the claims of all present in society for this equal right of interchanged sentiment, and to show this feeling at times by patient forbearance and at other times by manifest appreciation of that which others say, is no slight grace and gift. And here the various lessons on the subject, which experience or observation has taught, must be brought into play; and the information in any way gained as to the various feelings, habits, and tastes ordinarily entertained by people of different ages, different professions, and different characters, must be judiciously applied. Nor will this, in the least, spoil free and fair discussion of any topic. On the contrary, it will promote it. And thus that principle will be rightly maintained which I have endeavored to lay down and commend, viz., that when any special opinion, feeling, or taste is expressed in society,--I mean, of course, in a proper and legitimate way,--it should always be treated by all present with that measure of respect which each one would wish exercised towards himself for his own personal views. Just in proportion as men are boorish, coarse, and unsocial, in the true and extensive sense of the word, will they transgress here. Yes, even put together one, ungainly tempered, from his field, and another of the same character from his shop or counting house, and very likely not five minutes will elapse before one or the other will say something to disparage those habits and tastes with which he himself happens to be not conversant. There ensues discord and disseverance, or, it may be, silence and separation. But, on the other hand, just in proportion as you are enabled to unite yourself with others through your demeanor and words,--not, of course, hypocritically or obsequiously, but from real sympathy with all the innocent tastes and engagements of our fellow-creatures,--just, I say, in proportion as you are enabled to do this, will your intercourse with them, in the way of conversation, be of that kind at which we should aim. None will be afraid of your indulging in rebuffs, or ridicule, or depreciation. None will meet from you a cold, heartless, and repulsive indifference. To you, and before you, the flower[A] of each human heart (if I may so speak) will then have a tendency to open and expand its varied forms and hues, instead of retaining them all closed and shut up; and many, many thoughts will be expressed to you and before you which will never be heard, or at all events rarely, indeed, by those of a sneering, unsympathizing, hard, and ungenial spirit. Thus you will be known, or rather felt, instinctively felt, as one who will do nothing to chill, but, on the contrary, much to encourage that free spirit (in the best sense of the word) which should mark and imbue all social intercourse deserving the name at all; and you will be welcomed by all who can appreciate good taste, good tact, and (I will add) good feeling too,--for that is the chief spring of all such conduct; and you will be enabled to receive and communicate much pleasure and profit too, wheresover you may go. A word here may not be inappropriate as to what is sometimes called "drawing a person out"--_i. e._ leading another to tell you, or any company assembled in your presence, what they know, what they have seen, what they feel, what, in a word, they are able to communicate, if so disposed and led. Now, this drawing out is a very delicate affair. When successfully done, it is most valuable. When the attempt proves unsuccessful, you are very likely to lose or interfere with the very object in view. Questioning of all kinds,--up from that on the simplest topic, and with a purpose of the simplest kind, to that involving the most important results,--questioning, I say, of all kinds, requires judgment and tact. Many persons much err in this department of address. Some err by asking about matters on which it is quite clear that they have no real feeling and concern. Some err by demands as to your own personal proceedings, wherewith they have no connection. Some, again, err by putting questions, not wrongly or inappropriately, but merely too many at a time, or in too rapid a succession. This scarcely can be called conversation at all,--and, generally speaking, (though I do not deny that there are exceptions, which will at once recur to the intelligent,) yes, generally speaking, is most unsatisfactory. And the reason, if we analyze the matter, is, that all the statements, or observations, or call them what you will, proceed, under such circumstances, from one of the parties engaged. It is not reciprocal; it is not mutually communicated with due equality of interchanged thought. You will at once perceive that this must be detrimental; and I would suggest that when you may observe the damage which is thus done to conversation, you should seek at once to put the discourse on a better plan,--to shift it, as it were, on a better line for good progress. And that may sometimes be done by putting a question to those who question you, or even more, by making the number of questions on each side, in some measure, to correspond. This, of course, must not be done harshly or abruptly, nor so as to give the very least impression that you yourself desire to withhold and draw in; but it may often be advantageously done; and you will thus afford to another the natural and fit means of telling you something, as a response for that which you tell him. Then true conversation will begin; then the due interchange of expression, which alone merits the name; then each party becomes rightly placed, and the intercourse will improve almost instantaneously. But if, in these very commonest forms of our mutual address, it is not an easy thing to put questions well,--neither too many, nor in their wrong place,--then we may be well assured that it is more difficult still when the object, expressly, is to lead on another, gifted perhaps in many ways, or having perhaps some special thing to tell, unknown to you or others present. And yet what a valuable art this is! Much is lost in society by incapacity for its due exercise. Much is gained by skill in its employment. But many reasons concur to render it very difficult. The following may be mentioned among many others. Some are full of matter, but shy or reserved. Some are unaware of the deep interest which certain things, well known to them, would have for others, if they would communicate them; (in illustration of this, I may perhaps quote scientific men, travellers, those who have led strange and peculiar lives.) Some are too modest to put themselves in any prominent light. Others are too proud so to do, lest they should fail in winning full attention to their words. Some are jaded and worn with previous hours of intellectual toil, and the current of their thoughts is still flowing on in a channel of its own. Some are laboring under a kind of awe of one or more persons in the company. Some are young, and scarcely seem to realize or know how acceptable are the thoughts and fresh expressions of youth to those of maturer years. Others are afraid of being too professional in their remarks. Others are indolent in the use of their tongue and utterance. And numerous other causes might be mentioned, which sadly interfere with the full, free, and general flow of discourse or conversation. And yet, at the same time, there may be rich stores in the assembly,--much, very much, to communicate,--something, at least, in each either to please, or inform and improve,--something perhaps in every one present which, if told and expressed to those around him, would add and contribute no slight nor unprized contribution to the common stock. But how to elicit it--there is the difficulty. Nevertheless, very much may be done by tact and kindness, by animation and by cordiality, by watching and waiting for fit opportunities, by that appreciation of each one in the circle which will encompass and arouse all, as it were, with a kind of electric chain,--by a constant and deliberate aim to converse yourself at the time when it may be requisite, and willingly to lapse into silence and the background when another takes up the subject. And, although it is a measure which requires no little taste and moderation in its use, still it is sometimes not only very graceful, but very effectual too, if you will open out on some few personal topics which may concern yourself, and thus win a response from others present, who may personally know or have personally gone through that which you and others in the company would desire, and rightly desire, to hear opened out without any reserve. In order, again, to promote conversation of a superior sort, endeavor must be made to expand and enlarge its bounds to the very utmost. It should be of a comprehensive kind,--not the gossip of some narrow set, not a mere comment on the persons and affairs of any one locality, not a wearisome and dull repetition of things already, perhaps long, familiar to all present. I repeat, it should be comprehensive,--brought forward, as it were, from a full treasury of "things new and old," and coined into various sums, larger for such occasions as may need, and small--yes, even to the smallest--for the fit use and time. It should be formed of various materials, of that which has been seen, and heard, and read. A monotonous character is fatal to it. At one time it should arouse and awaken,--at another it should calm and soothe. At one time it should lead into deep and grave questions,--at another it should play lightly over the surface of things. At one time it may touch the spirit of the hearer, almost into tears,--at another it may raise the full freedom of laughter and mirth. At one time it may be addressed to all within the convenient reach of your words,--at another to one listening ear. If possible, it should touch on many tastes, on many places, on various interests, giving to each present (however different each taste and character) the best and fairest opening for a share in the circling talk, which opportunity every one, at fit occasion and turn, should be willing to embrace, and thus to render his or her social dues to those who freely and fairly contribute theirs. No one, on the other hand, should seek dominion, nor ever two or three, over the remainder. Again, conversation should never be allowed so to fall into separate or little knots, that one here or one there should remain alone or excluded altogether. It should be carried on in appropriate tones of voice. They should be somewhat raised, or rather, I would say, strengthened for the old and for those who are a little deaf, of whom there are many. This, however, not too obviously; not to remind any of infirmity. They should be quick, firm, and spirited for those in middle age, with their faculties in full strength. They should be somewhat gentler to the young, lest they be at all checked; and somewhat slower, that they may have more time and means to frame their own answer. For which the reason is, that as "practice makes perfect" in all things, so they, whose practice has, of course, been less than their seniors', need more time to make up for the want of it, even in conversation. At all times discourse is liable to alternations as to its interest and life. Expect this, and even should it become at any moment what is called dull, or even should an awkward pause and silence come on, do not seem to notice it. This will only make it worse. Rather try yourself to gather up the broken thread, or to introduce some new matter. Every one should avoid bringing forward or needlessly dwelling on any topic whatsoever likely to affect any others present with any unfavorable reminiscences. The wealthy will avoid, as a general rule, allusions to their property and wealth before any persons who, although their equals in society, are known to be of poor and inadequate estate. The healthy and the vigorous of frame will not forget that others are invalids; those free as air in the disposition of their time, that others have but very little, and that with difficulty spared; the quick and intelligent, that others are more slow in apprehension; those of hardy spirit, well strung and braced, that others are nervous, sensitive, and tried by words, tones, gestures, and expressions, which would not try, nor vex, or affect them in the least degree. But what tact is requisite in all this! And many, many failures must there be; sins of commission and of omission too, even among those who earnestly seek in this matter to fulfil, always and everywhere, the rules of true courtesy, and, which is better still, the rules of true Christian love. Nevertheless, the aim at which we point is by no means without its value as a profitable exercise both of the mind and heart. No, nor is it ineffectual and unblessed. For, although at times words may be said which we would long to recall, and strings of feeling touched by our utterance which afterthought tells us we should not have moved, and topics handled with much want of that skill and judgment which we should have wished most truly to employ, still, with a good aim before us, and with right principles in some measure realized, and seeking to correct any error when discovered, as well as to advance more in all which improves and adorns right social intercourse, much will be done towards the goodly end. And large indeed will be the amount of pleasure and of benefit which you may thus hope to reap for yourself and communicate to others in the course of your life, and that, too, up to an age, should your days be prolonged, when you may be shut up, or at all events much restrained, from many other means of active usefulness. For the mellowed wisdom of age, showing and expressing itself in that charity and sympathy for all which nothing less than experience itself has taught, is indeed a strong and beautiful thing. Hitherto I have spoken altogether on conversation with those whose rank and position of life corresponds with your own. A few words now on conversation, first, with those of a higher rank, and, secondly, with those in the humbler conditions of life--to use the common phrase; and every man should be qualified and prepared for any and for all kinds of association. To those of a higher rank than ourselves we may, without derogating in the least from our independence and self-respect, show that deference which not only the customs of all nations, but the Scripture also most evidently inculcates. This, of course, will appear when engaged with them in conversation. It will, however, be shown rather in some occasional acknowledgment than in the manner or matter of discourse. The rank of another does not in the least demand that you should surrender your opinion to his, nor conceal your sentiments, nor assume any other line of subjects and topics than you would address to those more immediately your equals in worldly position. A vague, undefined notion seems to float through each rank of society in our land, that those in the stage above think, feel, and act in a manner different from those below. A very great mistake this, which oftentimes chills and checks and mars all open freedom of address when one of an higher and one of a lower rank are brought into those circumstances where the opportunity for conversation occurs, if not the absolute claim. But let it be remembered that the mind and heart of man or of woman varies but little through these mere distinctions of the world. I do not say that it does not vary at all, but very little. The main current of joy, the main current of sorrow, is the same in all classes, though the lesser streams may variously and separately flow. The main current of affections, of interests, is the same. All are subject to the same need of kind, friendly sympathy; all are made to interchange thought; all share in the manifold impressions of our common nature. Wealth and nobility, and rank and station, are, after all, only artificial things, not the main staple of life in any man or woman. When, therefore, you are brought into the society of one or more like these, be to them appropriately courteous. Acknowledge their position at once, and then let your intercourse with them flow freely on, just as with others. Trouble not them, nor trouble yourself, with any other system of address. Deprive not them, nor deprive yourself, of free, open, natural communication. And, depend upon it, that acting and speaking thus, you will not only be oftentimes pleased rather than silenced and embarrassed by such society, but you will be sure to please and to be valued,--yes, and to meet no less friendly sympathy, both of mind and heart, than is to be found in each other rank of life. And now a few words on conversation with our poorer friends or neighbors, or any persons in this class of life with whom, habitually, we may have to do, or whom we may meet at any time or place. And few of that class being, I conclude, here, I may speak to you as those who would gladly receive any hints for kind consideration as to the right way of fulfilling your own part in this matter. For I, too, would wish to be a learner on it, so important do I conceive it to be. So much has been said, and so much has been written, on the benefit of free, kindly intercourse between the rich and the poor, the employers and the employed, those who labor with their heads and those who labor with their hands, that any mere general or vague observations on the subject would be quite out of place here. I shall, accordingly, regard you not only as admitting this truth, but also as desirous yourselves to exemplify it; and, again, as admitting, and feeling too, that merely to pay wages, and to give directions and commands, and to bestow alms, and to support charitable institutions (however needful and good such things may be), is not enough for one desiring to secure the sympathy and love of his poorer brethren. For that you must be ready, willing, able to converse with them. To qualify yourself for doing this, is in many professions an indispensable and most evident duty,--for instance, with the ministers of religion and with medical men. They could do nothing without such conversation. And, considering it due at proper seasons from every one in a higher class of life to those below them, I shall just offer you a few hints, which seem to me not unworthy of note. Avoid, then, on the one hand, all hard, overbearing address; while, on the other, there must be energy, spirit, firmness, and life. Avoid all semblance of patronage and condescension, but at the same time never make any forced attempts to appear what you are not, or to assume a character not your own. Do not imagine the range of subjects small; and, when you can, choose those topics in which you and those addressed both take an interest. Many there are common to all classes. Be not impatient to come to a point too quick, but give people a full opportunity to express themselves in their own way; nor count this waste time. It is very much otherwise. Use short rather than long sentences,--language colloquial, not that of books,--giving emphasis, tone, and strength to your words,--never lapsing into cold, lifeless, inexpressive tones. Trust oftentimes, in conversation with the poor and comparatively uneducated, that there is much more intelligence within than the answer which they make in words would lead you, at first sight, to expect. Be willing and ready to tell something about yourself, your family, and concerns, when there appears any interest about them. Remember that family ties and affections are strong in one as in another of the human family; and, as among your own friends and associates you would refer to these natural topics, so do here. Let wants and necessities, and trials and difficulties, not be forgotten, but let them not be the whole subject-matter of discourse. No, let it range far more widely, far more attractively; and your looks and your demeanor, and your tones and words, being all directed by good will, and by practice too, you indeed will be no idler in good works during times and occasions thus employed. You will win much love, much esteem, much appreciation; you will hear much right feeling expressed, and, at times, much to inform you of a practical kind. You will do good and receive good too. It appears to me that I have now presented to your notice almost a sufficiency of topics, relative to conversation, for one single lecture. Nevertheless, I feel unwilling to conclude without drawing your attention to a few facts connected with the subject. One is, that the ablest and mightiest authors of all times and countries have borne their strong testimony to the attraction which conversation presents, by casting a large portion of their writings into this form or mould. Thus did Homer in poetry, Plato in philosophy, and dramatists, of all ages, in their plays. Thus did Cicero in his various treatises; and Horace appears[B] talking to you in many and many a page. Dante's grand poem, "Il Purgatorio," is chiefly a conversation. The French have ever excelled in such writings; and of such a character is that well-known gem in the literature of Spain, I of course allude to "Don Quixote." In Shakspeare and Walter Scott it is the same, and they, perhaps, are the most popular writers of our land, except one. Who, do you ask, is that? John Bunyan, the author of the "Pilgrim's Progress;" but that very book comes up with its testimony too, being a dialogue throughout,--rich in pathos and wit, rich in illustration, rich in experience, rich in all variety and combination,--in a word, the very perfection of talk; not less attractive than it is weighty, not less entertaining than heavenly, holy, and full of all things which make a book precious. But another book there is, of which it is well said:-- "A glory gilds the sacred page, Majestic like the sun! It gives a light to every age; It gives, but borrows none." And in that book of books there are four short but most mighty narratives. And each of those narratives contains the one most important record which ever had to be told upon this earth. Each of them gives one concurrent history; namely, that of the life of our Lord Jesus Christ, with his sayings and his deeds. And of conversation these holy narratives are full. God has chosen this mode of reaching our minds and influencing our hearts, by large--very large--portions of them written after this fashion. Cowper felt this so deeply, that, in his poem on our present subject, he has beautifully told and paraphrased all that went on when Jesus met and talked with the two disciples on the way to Emmaus. Moreover, in those gospels, there is one, penned by that "disciple whom Jesus loved;" and if there is much conversation in all four of them, in it especially--in the gospel of St. John--conversation appears in all its full and continued glory. Take one or two examples. Mankind, all mankind, had to be taught about the complete atonement for our sins made by our Saviour on the cross. Where is it more clearly, more mightily told than in the third chapter of St. John's gospel? But what is that chapter? Is it a law prescribed in set terms?--No. Is it a sermon?--No. Is it a mere address?--No. You will all remember it is a conversation,--Christ's conversation with Nicodemus by night. And so it is again in the very next chapter, where a subject of no less importance--I say it advisedly, no less importance--is set forth, viz. the work of the Holy Spirit in man's heart; and that is portrayed for us in a conversation with the woman of Samaria, at Sychar's well. What striking instances are these! And many others might be added to them. And thus we have before us even the sanction and proof from the Word of God, that the most mighty and transcendent truth can reach us in no better form than that which conversation gives, and also that Jesus Christ put his own royal stamp of glory on it, by employing it Himself continually, when upon the earth among men, though he was their Lord and their God. Having thus been led on,--I think very naturally, and, as I think, quite appropriately, too, for one of my office and position, at any time or place, or on any subject,--I will not return to any lighter theme. I do not in the least regret that I have selected my present topic out of very many which suggested themselves to my mind, when I was asked to exercise the privilege of thus addressing you, as I have now done for these four years. I might have chosen others far more entertaining, and, no doubt, some far more kindling and exciting at this present time,[C] when our thoughts and our feelings are all so concentrated on one distant spot of strife and of contest, and of danger, and of bravery, and wounds, and deaths, and bereavements,--and amidst all, of honor unexampled to our brave brethren in arms. But, for many reasons, I have done otherwise. I have chosen, as usual, a subject of general, of national, of wide-world, of never-failing interest, from day to day, from week to week, from month to month, from year to year, among the vast race of our fellows,--born social creatures, born for mutual sympathy, with interchanged utterance, speech, and conversation. Strongly do I feel its importance, and I cannot help expressing my surprise that so little, so very little, has systematically been written or said upon it. I have found it no ordinary theme, I assure you; and, though it is one on which we all instinctively are interested in any circle, or with whomsoever we may at any time be, still it is not one on which the arrangement and classification of thought is an easy thing. I therefore shall not feel disappointed, nor, do I trust, will you be disappointed either, in that good employment of your time which you have a right to expect from me, as your lecturer to-night here, if I shall have set before you any thoughts, for your attention, which may improve, in the least degree, the course and the current of ordinary conversation. When we remember how much of our innocent gratification,--how much of our daily harmony one with another,--how much of our mutual improvement,--depends on the right exercise of this goodly gift,--then, I am sure, you will not consider that the subject is one to be neglected or ignored. I verily believe that I do not over-state the fact, in asserting that for one time when we are liable to hurt, or distress, or offend another by our acts and deeds, there are fifty or an hundred, or perhaps more, occasions, when we are liable to do so by our words, and demeanor, and utterance. And again, for once that we can do kind and profitable actions to those around us, and associating with us, there are fifty or an hundred,--perhaps more occasions still,--when we can please or profit another by our words. I ask you, as those who can judge in this matter for yourselves, "Is it not so? Is it not so most undeniably?" Well, then, if I have been successful in laying down any right principles, in exposing anything disadvantageous, or in presenting any available means for rendering your daily intercourse more evidently kind, more evidently sympathizing, more evidently, in a word, such as that which every good man would wish to exhibit, and which must render him not only welcome and not only useful, but a real and true ornament of society in the best sense of the word; if I have shown you anything whatever available to this end, whether for your use at home or abroad, in the cottage or the shop, in the humblest abode or in the noblest and in the wealthiest, then surely I shall not have spoken in vain. I speak on no narrow topic, and I speak for all. Truly it is one which touches all; and in this lies its strength and its interest. There is no one, I believe, who does not intuitively and instinctively feel either his gain or his loss in conversation,--the effect of it on his own mind and on his own feelings at the time and afterwards,--either its harms or its charms. All must feel this, though unable perhaps to classify their thoughts or express them on it, and perhaps they have never thought of so doing. And I, for one, will not hesitate to say that, it having been my lot to mix much, and willingly, in all the various classes of society,--and having endeavored, so far as in my power has been, to cultivate and show a true brotherly and friendly spirit, both to high and low,--I have met nothing to confer more pleasure and more advantage in daily life than fit conversation. I have found it from the poorest. I have found it from those of middle station. I have found it among the noble and the rich. And, while without it the hours of social and of family life may drag on heavily, and in a wearisome and worthless way, under the roofs of splendor and magnificence, and in the midst of feasts, and pomp, and parade, with it, freely interchanged from well-informed heads and cordial hearts, expressing what they know and telling what they feel, without any restraint except that of love, and tact, and propriety,--with it, I say, the simplest home may be one of enjoyment and improvement every recurring day, and each coming guest will share its attractions,--and therefore I say to every one present, "Despise not this gift, and try to improve it; and seek Divine help for its right regulation, as well as for its use; and be well assured that, under God's blessing, in its direction you will gain for yourself, and promote for your fellow-creatures, no slight share of true enjoyment, no slight benefits both for this world and for the world to come." FOOTNOTES: [A] "Quale i fioretti, dol notturno gielo Chinati e chiusi, poi che 'l sol gl' imbianca, Si drizzan tutti aperti in loro stelo, Tal mi fece io di mia virtute stanca." _Inf._ Can. ii. 127-9. [B] "Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico Tangit, et admissus circum præcordia ludit." Pers. i. 116. [C] December, 1854. PART III. A WORD TO THE WISE; BY PARRY GWYNNE. A WORD TO THE WISE. INTRODUCTION. IT is readily acknowledged, by all well educated foreigners, that English Grammar is very easy to learn, the difficulties of the language lying in the numberless variations and licenses of its pronunciation. Since to us then, children of the soil, pronunciation has no difficulties to offer, is it not a reproach that so many speak their own language in an inelegant and slatternly manner,--either through an inexcusable ignorance of grammatical rules, or a wanton violation of them? There are two sorts of bad speakers,--the educated and the uneducated. I write for the former, and I shall deal the less leniently with them, because "where much is given, much will be expected." Ay, and where much has been achieved too, and intellectual laurels have been gathered, is it not a reproach that a _slatternly_ mode of expression should sometimes deteriorate from the eloquence of the scholar, and place the accomplished man or woman, in _this_ respect, on a level with the half-educated or the illiterate? Some one, I think it is Lord Chesterfield, has wisely said, "Whatever is worth doing, is worth doing well." Then, if our native language is worth studying, surely it is worth _speaking well_, and as there is no standing still in excellence of any kind, so, even in language,--in so simple a thing as the expression of our thoughts by words,--if we do not improve we shall retrograde. It is a common opinion that a knowledge of Latin supersedes the necessity of the study of English grammar. This must entail a strong imputation of carelessness on our Latin students, who sometimes commit such solecisms in English as make us regret they did not _once_, at least, peruse the grammatical rules of their native language. We laugh at the blunders of a foreigner, but perpetrate our own offences with so much gravity that an observer would have a right to suppose we consider them what they really are,--_no laughing matter_. CHAPTER I. I. Some people speak of "so many _spoonsfull_," instead of "so many spoonfuls." The rule on this subject says: "Compounds ending in _ful_, and all those in which the principal word is put last, form the plural in the same manner as other nouns,--as 'handfuls, spoonfuls, mouthfuls,'" &c., &c. Logic will demonstrate the propriety of this rule. Are you measuring by a plurality of spoons? If so, "so many _spoonsfull_" must be the correct term; but if the process of measuring be effected by _refilling the same spoon_, then it becomes evident that the precise idea meant to be conveyed is, the _quantity_ contained in the vessel by which it is measured, which is a "_spoonful_." II. It is a common mistake to speak of "a disagreeable effluvia." This word is _effluvium_ in the singular, and _effluvia_ in the plural. The same rule should be observed with _automaton_, _arcanum_, _erratum_, _phenomenon_, _memorandum_, and several others which are less frequently used, and which change the _um_ or _on_ into _a_, to form the plural. It is so common a thing, however, to say _memorandums_, that I fear it would sound a little pedantic, in colloquial style, to use the word _memoranda_; and it is desirable, perhaps, that custom should make an exception of this word, as well as of _encomium_, and allow two terminations to it, according to the taste of the speaker and the style of the discourse,--_memorandums_ or _memoranda_, like _encomiums_ or _encomia_. III. We have heard _pulse_ and _patience_ treated as pluralities, much to our astonishment. IV. It seems to be a position assumed by all grammarians, that their readers already understand the meaning of the word "case," as applied to nouns and pronouns; hence they never enter into a clear explanation of the simple term, but proceed at once to a discussion of its grammatical distinctions, in which it frequently happens that the student, for want of a little introductory explanation, is unable to accompany them. But I am not going to repeat to the scholar how the term "case" is derived from a Latin word signifying "to fall," and is so named because all the other cases _fall_ or _decline_ from the nominative, in order to express the various relations of nouns to each other,--which in Latin they do by a difference of termination, in English by the aid of prepositions,--and that an orderly arrangement of all these different terminations is called the declension of a noun, &c. I am not going to repeat to the scholar the things he already knows; but to you, my gentle readers, to whom Latin is still an unknown tongue, to whom grammars are become obsolete things, and grammatical definitions would be bewildering preliminaries, "more honored in the breach than in the observance,"--to you I am anxious to explain, in the clearest manner practicable, all the mysteries of this case, because it was a cruel perplexity to myself in days of yore. And I will endeavor to make my lecture as brief and clear as possible, requesting you to bear in mind that no knowledge is to be acquired without a little trouble; and that whosoever may consider it too irksome a task to exert the understanding for a _short_ period, must be content to remain in inexcusable and irremediable ignorance. Though, I doubt not, when you come to perceive how great the errors are which you daily commit, you will not regret having sat down quietly for half an hour to listen to an unscholastic exposition of them. V. We all understand the meaning of the word "case," as it is applied to the common affairs of life; but when we meet with it in our grammars, we view it as an abstruse term. We will not consent to believe that it means nothing more than _position of affairs_, _condition_, or _circumstances_, any one of which words might be substituted for it with equal propriety, if it were not indispensable in grammar to adhere strictly to the same term when we wish to direct the attention unerringly to the same thing, and to keep the understanding alive to the justness of its application; whilst a multiplicity of names to one thing would be likely to create confusion. Thus, if one were to say, "This is a very hard case," or "A singular case occurred the other day," or "That poor man's case is a very deplorable one," we should readily comprehend that by the word "case" was meant "circumstance" or "situation;" and when we speak, in the language of the grammar, of "a noun in the nominative case," we only mean a person or thing placed in such circumstances as to become merely named, or named as the performer of some action,--as "the man," or "the man walks." In both these sentences, "man" is in the nominative case; because in the first he is simply _named_, without reference to any circumstance respecting him, and in the second he is named as the performer of the _act_ of _walking_ mentioned. When we speak of a noun in the possessive case, we simply mean a person or thing placed under such circumstances as to become named as the _possessor_ of something; and when we speak of a noun in the objective case, we only intend to express a person or thing standing in such a situation as to be, in some way or other, affected by the act of some other person or thing,--as "Henry teaches Charles." Here Henry is, by an abbreviation of terms, called _the nominative case_, (instead of the _noun_ in the nominative case,) because he stands in that situation in which it is incumbent on us to name him as the _performer_ of the act of teaching; and Charles is, by the same abbreviating license, called the _objective case_, because he is in such a position of affairs as to _receive_ the act of teaching which Henry performs. I will now tell you how you may always distinguish the three cases. Read the sentence attentively, and understand accurately what the nouns are represented as doing. If any person or thing be represented as _performing_ an _action_, that person or thing is a noun in the nominative case. If any person or thing be represented as _possessing something_, that person or thing is a noun in the possessive case. And if any person or thing be represented as neither performing nor possessing, it is a noun in the objective case, whether directly or indirectly affected by the action of the nominative; because, as we have in English but _three_ cases, which contain the substance of the _six Latin_ cases, _whatever is neither nominative nor possessive must be objective_. Here I might wander into a long digression on passive and neuter verbs, which I may seem to have totally overlooked in the principle just laid down; but I am not writing a grammar,--not attempting to illustrate the various ramifications of grammatical laws to people who know nothing at all about them,--any more than I am writing for the edification of the accomplished scholar, to whom purity of diction is already familiar. I am writing, chiefly, for that vast portion of the educated classes who have never looked into a grammar since their school days were over, but who have ingeniously hewn out for themselves a middle path between ignorance and knowledge, and to whom certain little hillocks in their way have risen up, under a dense atmosphere, to the magnitude of mountains. I merely wish to give to them, since they will not take the trouble to search for themselves, one broad and general principle, unclogged by exceptions, to guide them to propriety of speech; and should they afterwards acquire a taste for grammatical disputation, they will of course apply to more extensive sources for the necessary qualifications. VI. It is scarcely possible to commit any inaccuracy in the use of these cases when restricted to nouns, but in the application of them to pronouns a woful confusion often arises; though even in this confusion exists a marked distinction between the errors of the ill-bred and those of the well-bred man. To use the objective instead of the nominative is a _vulgar_ error; to use the nominative instead of the objective is a _genteel_ error. No person of decent education would think of saying, "Him and me are going to the play." Yet how often do we hear even well educated people say, "They were coming to see my brother and _I_,"--"The claret will be packed in two hampers for Mr. Smith and _I_,"--"Let you and _I_ try to move it,"--"Let him and _I_ go up and speak to them,"--"Between you and _I_," &c. &c.;--faults as heinous as that of the vulgarian who says, "Him and me are going to the play," and with less excuse. Two minutes' reflection will enable the scholar to correct himself, and a little exercise of memory will shield him from a repetition of the fault; but, for the benefit of those who may _not_ be scholars, we will accompany him through the mazes of his reflections. Who are the persons that are performing the act of "coming to see"? "_They_." Then the pronoun _they_ must stand in the nominative case. Who are the persons to whom the act of "coming to see" extends? "My brother and I." Then "my brother and I," being the _objects affected_ by the act of the nominative, must be a noun and pronoun standing in the objective case; and as nouns are not susceptible of change on account of cases, it is only the _pronoun_ which requires alteration to render the sentence correct: "They were coming to see my brother and _me_." The same argument is applicable to the other examples given. In the English language, the imperative mood of a verb is never conjugated with a pronoun in the nominative case, therefore, "Let you and _I_ try to move it," "Let him and _I_ go up and speak to them," are manifest improprieties. A very simple test may be formed by taking away the first noun or pronoun from the sentence altogether, and bringing the verb or preposition right against that pronoun which you use to designate yourself: thus, "They were coming to see _I_," "The claret will be packed in two hampers for _I_," "Let _I_ try to move it," &c. By this means your own ear will correct you, without any reference to grammatical rules. And bear in mind that the number of _nouns_ it may be necessary to press into the sentence will not alter the _case_ respecting the pronouns. "Between you and I" is as erroneous an expression as any. Change the position of the pronouns, and say, "Between I and you;" or change the sentence altogether, and say, "Between I and the wall there was a great gap;" and you will soon see in what case the first person should be rendered. "Prepositions govern the objective case," therefore it is impossible to put a nominative _after_ a preposition without a gross violation of a rule which ought to be familiar to everybody. VII. The same mistake extends to the relative pronouns "who" and "whom." We seldom hear the objective case used either by vulgar or refined speakers. "Who did you give it to?" "Who is this for?" are solecisms of daily occurrence; and when the objective "whom" _is_ used, it is generally put in the wrong place; as, "The person whom I expected would purchase that estate," "The man whom they intend shall execute that work." This intervening verb in each sentence, "I expected" and "they intend," coming between the last verb and its own nominative (the relative pronoun), has no power to alter the rule, and no right to violate it; but as the introduction of an intervening verb, in such situations, is likely to beguile the ear and confuse the judgment, it would be better to avoid such constructions altogether, and turn the sentence in a different way; as, "The person whom I expected _to be_ the purchaser of that estate," "The man whom they intend _to_ execute that work." If the reader will cut off the intervening verb, which has nothing to do with the construction of the sentence, except to mystify it, he will perceive at a glance the error and its remedy: "The person _whom_ would purchase that estate," "The man _whom_ shall execute that work." VIII. It is very easy to mistake the nominative when another noun comes between it and the verb, which is frequently the case in the use of the indefinite and distributive pronouns; as, "One of those houses _were_ sold last week," "Each of the daughters _are_ to have a separate share," "Every tree in those plantations _have_ been injured by the storm," "Either of the children _are_ at liberty to claim it." Here it will be perceived that the pronouns "one," "each," "every," "either," are the true nominatives to the verbs; but the intervening noun in the plural number, in each sentence, deludes the ear, and the speaker, without reflection, renders the verb in the plural instead of the singular number. The same error is often committed when no second noun appears to plead an apology for the fault; as, "Each city _have their_ peculiar privileges," "Everybody has a right to look after _their_ own interest," "Either _are_ at liberty to claim it." This is the effect of pure carelessness. IX. There is another very common error, the reverse of the last mentioned, which is that of rendering the adjective pronoun in the _plural_ number instead of the singular in such sentences as the following: "_These_ kind of entertainments are not conducive to general improvement," "_Those_ sort of experiments are often dangerous." This error seems to originate in the habit which people insensibly acquire of supposing the prominent noun in the sentence (such as "entertainments" or "experiments") to be the noun qualified by the adjective "these" or "those;" instead of which it is "kind," "sort," or any word of that description _immediately following_ the adjective, which should be so qualified, and the adjective must be made to agree with it in the singular number. We confess it is not so agreeable to the ear to say, "_This_ kind of entertainments," "_That_ sort of experiments;" but it would be easy to give the sentence a different form, and say, "Entertainments of this kind," "Experiments of that sort," by which the requisitions of grammar would be satisfied, and those of euphony too. X. But the grand fault, the glaring impropriety, committed by "all ranks and conditions of men," rich and poor, high and low, illiterate and learned,--except, perhaps, one in twenty,--and from which not even the pulpit or the bar is totally free,--is, the substitution of the active verb _lay_ for the neuter verb _lie_ (to lie down). The scholar _knows_ that "active verbs govern the objective case," and therefore _demand_ an objective case after them; and that neuter verbs _will not admit_ an objective case after them, _except_ through the medium of a preposition. _He_, therefore, has no excuse for his error, it is a wilful one; for him the following is not written. And here I may as well say, once for all, that whilst I would _remind_ the _scholar_ of his lapses, my instructions and explanations are offered _only_ to the class which requires them. "To lay" is an active transitive verb, like _love_, _demanding_ an objective case after it, _without the intervention of a preposition_. "To lie" is a neuter verb, _not admitting an objective case after it, except through the intervention of a preposition_;--yet this "perverse generation" _will_ go on substituting the former for the latter. Nothing can be more erroneous than to say, as people constantly do, "I shall go and lay down." The question which naturally arises in the mind of the discriminating hearer is, "_What_ are you going to lay down,--money, carpets, plans, or what?" for, as a transitive verb is used, an object is wanted to complete the sense. The speaker means, in fact, to tell us that he (himself) is going to _lie down_, instead of which he gives us to understand that he is going to _lay_ down or _put_ down something which he has not named, but which it is necessary to name before we can understand the sentence; and this sentence, when completed according to the rules of grammar, will never convey the meaning he intends. One might as well use the verb "to put" in this situation, as the verb "to lay," for each is a transitive verb, requiring an objective case immediately after it. If you were to enter a room, and, finding a person lying on the sofa, were to address him with such a question as "What are you doing there?" you would think it ludicrous if he were to reply, "I am _putting_ down;" yet it would not be more absurd than to say, "I am _laying_ down;" but custom, whilst it fails to reconcile us to the error, has so familiarized us with it, that we hear it without surprise, and good breeding forbids our noticing it to the speaker. The same mistake is committed through all the tenses of the verb. How often are nice ears wounded by the following expressions,--"My brother _lays_ ill of a fever,"--"The vessel _lays_ in St. Katharine's Docks,"--"The books were _laying_ on the floor,"--"He _laid_ on a sofa three weeks,"--"After I had _laid_ down, I remembered that I had left my pistols _laying_ on the table." You must perceive that, in every one of these instances, the wrong verb is used; correct it, therefore, according to the explanation given; thus, "My brother _lies_ ill of a fever,"--"The vessel _lies_ in St Katherine's Docks,"--"The books were _lying_ on the floor,"--"He _lay_ on a sofa three weeks,"--"After I had _lain_ down, I remembered that I had left my pistols _lying_ on the table." It is probable that this error has originated in the circumstance of the present tense of the verb "to lay" being conjugated precisely like the imperfect tense of the verb "to lie," for they are alike in orthography and sound, and different only in meaning; and in order to remedy the evil which this resemblance seems to have created, I have conjugated at full length the simple tenses of the two verbs, hoping the exposition may be found useful; for it is an error which _must_ be corrected by all who aspire to the merit of speaking their own language _well_. VERB ACTIVE. _To lay._ Present tense. I lay } Thou layest } money, He lays } carpets, We lay } plans,--any You lay } _thing_. They lay } Imperfect tense. I laid } Thou laidest } money, He laid } carpets, We laid } plans,--any You laid } _thing_. They laid } Present Participle, Laying. Perfect Participle, Laid. VERB NEUTER. _To lie._ Present tense. I lie } Thou liest } down, He lies } too long, We lie } on a sofa,--any You lie } _where_. They lie } Imperfect tense. I lay } Thou layest } down, He lays } too long, We lay } on a sofa,--any You lay } _where_. They lay } Present Participle, Lying, Perfect Participle, Lain. In such sentences as these, wherein the verb is used reflectively,--"If I lay myself down on the grass I shall catch cold," "He laid himself down on the green sward,"--the verb "to lay" is with propriety substituted for the verb "to lie;" for the addition of the emphatic pronoun _myself_, or _himself_, constituting an objective case, and coming _immediately after_ the verb, _without the intervention of a preposition_, renders it necessary that the verb employed should be _active_, not _neuter_, because "active verbs govern the objective case." But this is the only construction in which "to lay" instead of "to lie" can be sanctioned by the rules of grammar. XI. The same confusion often arises in the use of the verbs _sit_ and _set_, _rise_ and _raise_. _Sit_ is a neuter verb, _set_ an active one; yet how often do people most improperly say, "I have _set_ with him for hours," "He _set_ on the beach till the sun went down," "She _set_ three nights by the patient's bedside." What did they set,--potatoes, traps, or what? for as an objective case is evidently implied by the use of an active verb, an object is indispensable to complete the sense. No tense whatever of the verb "to sit" is rendered "set," which has but _one word_ throughout the whole verb, except the active participle "setting;" and "sit" has but two words, "sit" and "sat," except the active participle "sitting;" therefore it is very easy to correct this error by the help of a little attention. XII. _Raise_ is the same kind of verb as _set_,--active-transitive, requiring an objective case after it; and it contains only two words, _raise_ and _raised_, besides the active participle _raising_. _Rise_ is a neuter verb, not admitting an objective case. It contains two words, _rise_ and _rose_; besides the two participles, _rising_ and _risen_. It is improper, therefore, to say, "He _rose_ the books from the floor," "He _rises_ the fruit as it falls," "After she had _risen_ the basket on her head," &c. In all such cases use the other verb _raise_. It occurs to me, that if people would take the trouble to reckon how many different words a verb contains, they would be in less danger of mistaking them. "Lay" contains two words, "lay" and "laid," besides the active participle "laying." "Lie" has also two words, "lie" and "lay," besides the two participles "lying" and "lain;" and from this second word "lay" arises all the confusion I have had to lament in the foregoing pages. XIII. To the scholar I would remark the prevalent impropriety of adopting the subjunctive instead of the indicative mood, in sentences where doubt or uncertainty is expressed, although the former can only be used in situations in which "contingency and futurity" are combined. Thus, a gentleman, giving an order to his tailor, may say, "Make me a coat of a certain description, if it _fit_ me well I will give you another order;" because the "fit" alluded to is a thing which the future has to determine. But when the coat is made and brought home, he cannot say, "If this cloth _be good_ I will give you another order," for the quality of the cloth is _already_ determined; the future will not alter it. It may be good, it may be bad, but whatever it _may be_ it already _is_; therefore, as contingency only is implied, _without futurity_, it must be rendered in the indicative mood, "If this cloth _is_ good," &c. We may with propriety say, "If the book be sent in time, I shall be able to read it to-night," because the sending of the book is an event which the _future_ must produce; but we must not say, "If this book be sent for me, it is a mistake," because here the act alluded to is already performed,--the book has come. I think it very likely that people have been beguiled into this error by the prefix of the conjunction, forgetting that conjunctions may be used with the indicative as well as with the subjunctive mood. XIV. Some people use the imperfect tense of the verb "to go," instead of the past participle, and say, "I should have _went_," instead of "I should have gone." This is _not_ a very common error, but it is a very great one; and I should not have thought it could come within the range of the class for which this book is written, but that I have heard the fault committed by people of even tolerable education. One might as well say, "I should have _was_ at the theatre last night," instead of "I should have _been_ at the theatre," &c., as say, "I should have _went_" instead of "I should have _gone_." XV. Others there are who invert this error, and use the past participle of the verb "to do" instead of a tense of the verb, saying, "I _done_" instead of "I _did_." This is inadmissible. "I _did_ it," or "I _have done_ it," is a phrase correct in its formation, its application being, of course, dependent on other circumstances. XVI. There are speakers who are _too refined_ to use the past (or perfect) participle of the verbs "to drink," "to run," "to begin," &c., and substitute the _imperfect tense_, as in the verb "to go." Thus, instead of saying, "I have drunk," "he has run," "they have begun," they say, "I have _drank_" "he has _ran_," "they have _began_" &c. These are minor errors, I admit; still, nice ears detect them. XVII. I trust it is unnecessary to warn any of my readers against adopting the flagrant vulgarity of saying "_don't_ ought," and "_hadn't_ ought," instead of "ought _not_." It is also incorrect to employ _no_ for _not_ in such phrases as, "If it is true or _no_ (not)," "Is it so or _no_ (not)?" XVIII. Many people have an odd way of saying, "I expect," when they only mean "I think," or "I conclude;" as, "I expect my brother is gone to Richmond to-day," "I expect those books were sent to Paris last year." This is wrong. _Expect_ can relate only to _future_ time, and must be followed by a future tense, or a verb in the infinitive mood; as, "I expect my brother _will go_ to Richmond to-day," "I expect _to find_ those books were sent to Paris last year." Here the introduction of a future tense, or of a verb in the infinitive mood, rectifies the grammar without altering the sense; but such a portion of the sentence must not be omitted in expression, as no such ellipsis is allowable. XIX. The majority of speakers use the imperfect tense and the perfect tense together, in such sentences as the following,--"I intended to _have called_ on him last night," "I meant to _have purchased_ one yesterday,"--or a pluperfect tense, and a perfect tense together I have sometimes heard, as, "You should _have written_ to _have told_ her." These expressions are illogical, because, as the _intention_ to perform an act _must_ be _prior_ to the act contemplated, the act itself cannot with propriety be expressed by a tense indicating a period of time _previous_ to the intention. The three sentences should be corrected thus, placing the second verb in the infinitive mood, "I intended _to call_ on him last night," "I meant _to purchase_ one yesterday," "You should have written _to tell_ her." But the imperfect tense and the perfect tense are to be combined in such sentences as the following, "I remarked that they appeared to have undergone great fatigue;" because here the act of "undergoing fatigue" _must_ have taken place _previous_ to the period in which you have had the opportunity of remarking its effect on their appearance; the sentence, therefore, is both grammatical and logical. XX. Another strange perversion of grammatical propriety is to be heard occasionally in the adoption of the present tense of the verb "to have," most probably instead of the past participle, but in situations in which the participle itself would be a redundance; such as, "If I had _have_ known," "If he had _have_ come according to appointment," "If you had _have_ sent me that intelligence," &c. Of what utility is the word "have" in the sentence at all? What office does it perform? If it stands in place of any other word, that other word would still be an incumbrance; but the sentence being complete without it, it becomes an illiterate superfluity. "If I had _have_ known that you would have been there before me, I would have written to you to _have_ waited till I had _have_ come." What a construction from the lips of an educated person! and yet we do sometimes hear this _slip-slop_ uttered by people who are considered to "speak French and Italian _well_," and who enjoy the reputation of being "accomplished!" XXI. It is amusing to observe the broad line of demarcation which exists between _vulgar_ bad grammar and _genteel_ bad grammar, and which characterizes the violation of almost every rule of syntax. The vulgar speaker uses adjectives instead of adverbs, and says, "This letter is written _shocking_;" the genteel speaker uses adverbs instead of adjectives, and says, "This writing looks _shockingly_." The perpetrators of the latter offence may fancy they can shield themselves behind the grammatical law which compels the employment of an adverb, not an adjective, to qualify a verb, and behind the first rule of syntax, which says "a verb must agree with its nominative." But which _is_ the nominative in the expression alluded to? _Which_ performs the act of looking,--the writing or the speaker? To say that a thing _looks_ when _we_ look _at_ it, is an idiom peculiar to our language, and some idioms are not reducible to rules; they are conventional terms which pass current, like bank notes, for the sterling they represent, but must not be submitted to the test of grammatical alchymy. It is improper, therefore, to say, "The queen looks beautifully," "The flowers smell sweetly," "This writing looks shockingly;" because it is the speaker that performs the act of looking, smelling, &c., not the noun looked _at_; and though, by an idiomatical construction necessary to avoid circumlocution, the sentence _imputes the act_ to the _thing beheld_, the qualifying word must express the quality of the thing spoken of, _adjectively_, instead of qualifying the act of the nominative understood, _adverbially_. What an adjective is to a noun, an adverb is to a verb; an adjective expresses the quality of a thing, and an adverb the manner of an action. Consider what it is you wish to express, the _quality of a thing_, or the _manner of an action_, and use an adjective or adverb accordingly. But beware that you discriminate justly; for though you cannot say, "The queen looked _majestically_ in her robes," because here the act of _looking_ is performed by the spectator, who looks _at_ her, you can and _must_ say, "The queen looked _graciously_ on the petitioner," "The queen looked _mercifully_ on his prayer," because here the _act_ of _looking_ is performed _by_ the queen. You cannot say, "These flowers smell sweetly," because it is _you_ that smell, and not the flowers; but you can say, "These flowers perfume the air deliciously," because it is _they_ which impart the fragrance, not you. You cannot say, "This dress looks badly," because it is you that look, not the dress; but you can say, "This dress _fits_ badly," because it is the dress that performs the act of fitting either well or ill. There are some peculiar idioms which it would be better to avoid altogether, if possible; but if you feel compelled to use them, take them as they are,--you cannot prune and refine them by the rules of syntax, and to attempt to do so shows ignorance as well as affectation. XXII. There is a mistake often committed in the use of the adverbs of place, _hence_, _thence_, _whence_. People are apt to say, "He will go _from thence_ to-morrow," &c. The preposition "from" is included in these adverbs, therefore it becomes tautology in sense when prefixed to them. XXIII. "Equally as well" is a very common expression, and a very incorrect one; the adverb of comparison, "as," has no right in the sentence. "Equally well," "Equally high," "Equally dear," should be the construction; and if a complement be necessary in the phrase, it should be preceded by the preposition "with," as, "The wall was equally high with the former one," "The goods at Smith's are equally dear with those sold at the shop next door," &c. "Equally the same" is tautology. XXIV. "Whether," sometimes an adverb, sometimes a conjunction, is a word that plainly indicates a choice of things (of course I cannot be supposed to mean a _freedom_ of choice); it is highly improper, therefore, to place it, as many do, at the head of each part of a sentence, as, "I have not yet made up my mind whether I shall go to France, or _whether_ I shall remain in England." The conjunction should not be repeated, as it is evident the alternative is expressed _only in the combination_ of the _two_ parts of the sentence, not in either of them taken separately; and the phrase should stand thus, "I have not yet made up my mind whether I shall go to France _or_ remain in England." XXV. There is an awkwardness prevalent amongst all classes of society in such sentences as the following: "He quitted his horse, and got _on to_ a stage coach," "He jumped _on to_ the floor," "She laid it _on to_ a dish," "I threw it _on to_ the fire." Why use two prepositions where one would be quite as explicit, and far more elegant? Nobody, at the present day, would think of saying, "He came up to London _for_ to go to the exhibition," because the preposition "for" would be an awkward superfluity. So is "to" in the examples given; in each of which there is an unwieldiness of construction which reminds one of the process of glueing, or fastening, one thing "on to" another. Expunge the redundant preposition, and be assured, gentle reader, the sentence will still be found "an elegant sufficiency." There are some situations, however, in which the two prepositions may with propriety be employed, though they are never indispensable, as, "I accompanied such a one to Islington, and then walked on to Kingsland." But here _two_ motions are implied, the walking onward, and the reaching of a certain point. More might be said to illustrate the distinction, but we believe it will not be deemed necessary. XXVI. There seems to be a natural tendency to deal in a redundance of prepositions. Many people talk of "continuing _on_." I should be glad to be informed in what other direction it would be possible to _continue_. XXVII. It is most illiterate to put the preposition _of_ after the adverb _off_, as, "The satin measured twelve yards before I cut this piece _off of_ it," "The fruit was gathered _off of_ that tree." Many of my readers will consider such a remark quite unnecessary in this volume; but many others, who ought to know better, must stand self-condemned on reading it. XXVIII. There is a false taste extant for the preposition "on" instead of "_of_" in songs, poetry, and many other situations in which there is still less excuse for borrowing the poetic license; such as, "Wilt thou think _on_ me, love?" "I will think _on_ thee, love," "Then think _on_ the friend who once welcomed it too," &c., &c. But this is an error chiefly to be met with among poetasters and melodramatic speakers. XXIX. Some people add a superfluous preposition at the end of a sentence,--"More than you think _for_." This, however, is an awkwardness rarely committed by persons of decent education. XXX. That "prepositions govern the objective case" is a golden rule of grammar; and if it were only _well remembered_, it would effectually correct that mistake of substituting the nominative for the objective pronoun, which has been complained of in the preceding pages. In using a relative pronoun in the objective case, it is more elegant to put the preposition before than after it, thus, "To whom was the order given?" instead of, "Whom was the order given to?" Indeed, if this practice were to be invariably adopted, it would obviate the possibility of confounding the nominative with the objective case, because no man would ever find himself able to utter such a sentence as, "To who was this proposal made?" though he might very unconsciously say, "Who was this proposal made to?" and the error would be equally flagrant in both instances. XXXI. There is a great inaccuracy connected with the use of the disjunctive conjunctions _or_ and _nor_, which seem to be either not clearly understood, or treated with undue contempt by persons who speak in the following manner: "Henry or John _are_ to go there to-night," "His son or his nephew _have_ since put in _their_ claim," "Neither one _nor_ the other _have_ the least chance of success." The conjunctions disjunctive "or" and "nor" separate the objects in sense, as the conjunction copulative unites them; and as, by the use of the former, the things stand forth separately and singly to the comprehension, the verb or pronoun must be rendered in the singular number also; as, "Henry _or_ John _is_ to go there to-night," "His son _or_ his nephew _has_ since put in _his_ claim," &c. If you look over the sentence, you will perceive that only _one_ is to do the act, therefore only _one_ can be the nominative to the verb. XXXII. Many people improperly substitute the disjunctive "but" for the comparative "than," as, "The mind no sooner entertains any proposition, _but_ it presently hastens to some hypothesis to bottom it on."--_Locke._ "No other resource _but_ this was allowed him." "My behavior," says she, "has, I fear, been the death of a man who had no other fault _but_ that of loving me too much."--_Spectator._ XXXIII. Sometimes a relative pronoun is used instead of a conjunction, in such sentences as the following: "I don't know but _what_ I shall go to Brighton to-morrow," instead of, "I don't know but _that_," &c. XXXIV. Sometimes the disjunctive _but_ is substituted for the conjunction _that_, as, "I have no doubt _but_ he will be here to-night." Sometimes for the conjunction _if_, as, "I shouldn't wonder _but_ that was the case." And sometimes _two_ conjunctions are used instead of one, as, "_If that_ I have offended him," "_After that_ he had seen the parties," &c. All this is very awkward indeed, and ought to be avoided, and might easily be so by a little attention. CHAPTER II. I. IT is obsolete now to use the article _an_ before words beginning with long _u_ or with _eu_, and it has become more elegant, in modern style, to say, "a university," "a useful article," "a European," "a euphonious combination of sentences," &c., &c. It is also proper to say "such a one," not "such an one." II. Some people pronounce the plural of handkerchief, scarf, wharf, dwarf, _handkerchieves_, _scarves_, _wharves_, _dwarves_. This is an error, as these words, and perhaps a few others, are exceptions to the rule laid down, that nouns ending in _f_ and _fe_ shall change these terminations into _ves_ to form the plural. III. There is an illiterate mode of pronouncing the adverb _too_, which is that of contracting it into the sound of the preposition _to_; thus, "I think I paid _to much_ for this gun," "This line is _to long_ by half." The adverb _too_ should be pronounced like the numeral adjective _two_, and have the same full distinct sound in delivery, as, "I think I paid _two_ much for this gun," "This line is _two_ long by half." IV. One does not expect to hear such words as "necessi'ated," "preventative," &c., from people who profess to be educated; but one _does_ hear them, nevertheless, and many others of the same genus, of which the following list is a specimen, not a collection. "Febuary" and "Febbiwerry," instead of February. "Seckaterry" instead of secretary. "Gover'ment" " government. "Eve'min" " evening. "Sev'm" " seven. "Holladiz" " holidays. "Mossle" " morsel. "Chapped," according to orthography, instead of _chopped_, according to polite usage. And we have even heard "continental" pronounced _continential_, though upon what authority we know not. Besides these, a multitude of others might be quoted, which we consider too familiar to particularize and "too numerous to mention." V. There is an old jest on record of a person hearing another pronounce the word curiosity "_curosity_," and remarking to a bystander, "That man murders the English language." "Nay," replies the person addressed, "he only knocks an eye (i) out." And I am invariably reminded of this old jest whenever I hear such pronunciations as the following,--"Lat'n" for Latin, "sat'n" for satin, and Britain pronounced so as to rhyme with _written_,--of which a few examples will be given on a subsequent page, not with the wild hope of comprising in so short a space _all_ the perversions of prosody which are constantly taking place, but simply with the intention of reminding careless speakers of some general principles they seem to have forgotten, and of the vast accumulation of error they may engraft upon themselves by a lazy adherence to the custom of the crowd. Before, however, proceeding to the words in question, it may be satisfactory to our readers to recall to their memory the observations of Lindley Murray on the subject. He says, "There is scarcely anything which more distinguishes a person of poor education from a person of a good one than the pronunciation of the _unaccented vowels_. When vowels are _under the accent_, the best speakers, and the lowest of the people, with very few exceptions, pronounce them in the same manner; but the _un_accented vowels in the mouths of the former have a distinct, open, and specific sound, while the latter often totally sink them, or change them into some other sound." The words that have chiefly struck me are the following, in which not only the i but some of the other vowels are submitted to the mutilating process, or, as I have heard it pronounced, _mutulating_. Brit'n instead of Britain. Lat'n " Latin. Sat'n " Satin. Patt'n " Patten. Curt'n " Curtain. Cert'n " Certain. Bridle " Bridal. Idle " Idol. Meddle " Medal. Moddle " Model. Mentle " Mental. Mortle " Mortal. Fatle " Fatal. Gravle " Gravel. Travle " Travel. Sudd'n " Sudden. Infidle " Infidel. _Scroop_'-lous " _Scru-pu_-lous. And a long train of _et cetera_, of which the above examples do not furnish a tithe. _Note._--That to sound the _e_ in _garden_ and _often_, and the _i_ in _evil_ and _devil_, is a decided error. They should always be pronounced _gard'n_ and _oft'n_, _ev'l_ and _dev'l_. Some people pronounce the _I_ in Irish and its concomitants so as to make the words Ireland, Irishmen, Irish linen, &c., sound as if they were written _Arland_, _A-rishmen_, _Arish_ linen, &c. This is literally "knocking an _i_ out." VI. It is affected, and contrary to authority, to deprive the _s_ of its sharp hissing sound in the words _precise_, _desolate_, _design_, and their derivatives. VII. There is one peculiarity which we feel bound to notice, because it has infected English speakers,--that of corrupting the _e_ and the _i_ into the sound of _a_ or _u_, in the words ability, humility, charity, &c.; for how often is the ear wrung by such barbarisms as, humi_lutty_, civi_lutty_, qua_laty_, quan_taty_, cru_alty_, char_aty_, human_aty_, barbar_aty_, horr_uble_, terr_uble_, and so on, _ad infinitum_!--an uncouth practice, to which nothing is comparable, except pronouncing _yalla_ for yellow. VIII. There is in some quarters a bad mode prevalent of pronouncing the plural of such words as _face_, _place_, &c., _fazes_, _plazes_, whilst the plural of _price_ seems everywhere subject to the same strange mutation. The words should be _faces_, _places_, _prices_, without any softening of the _c_ into _z_. There is, too, an ugly fashion of pronouncing the _ng_, when terminating a word or syllable, as _we_ pronounce the same combination of letters in the word _finger_, and making such words as "singer," "ringer," &c., rhyme with _linger_. Sometimes the double _o_ is elongated into the sound which we give to that dipthong in "room," "fool," "moon," &c., which has a very bad effect in such words as _book_, _look_, _nook_, _took_, &c.; and sometimes it is contracted into the sound of short _u_, making "foot," and some other words, rhyme with _but_. IX. And having remarked on the _lingering_ pronunciation, it is but fair to notice a defect, the reverse of this, namely, that of omitting the final _g_ in such words as _saying_, _going_, _shilling_, &c., and pronouncing them "sayin," "goin," "shillin." This is so common an error that it generally escapes notice, but is a greater blemish, where we have a right to look for perfection, than the peculiarities of the provinces in those who reside there. X. It is also a common fault to add a gratuitous _r_ to words ending with a vowel, such as Emma_r_, Louisa_r_, Julia_r_, and to make _draw_, _law_, _saw_, _flaw_, with all others of the same class, rhyme with _war_; to omit the _r_ in such words as _corks_, _forks_, _curtains_, _morsel_, &c.; in the word _perhaps_, when they conscientiously _pronounce_ the _h_; and sometimes in _Paris_; or to convert it into the sound of a _y_ when it comes between two vowels, as in the name _Harriet_, and in the words _superior_, _interior_, &c., frequently pronounced _Aah-yet_, _su-pe-yor_, _in-te-yor_, &c. XI. There is a vicious mode of amalgamating the final _s_ of a word (and sometimes the final _c_, when preceded and followed by a vowel) with the first letter of the next word, if that letter happens to be a _y_, in such a manner as to produce the sound of _sh_ or of _usu_ in _usual_; as, "A _nishe_ young man," "What _makesh_ you laugh?" "If he _offendsh_ you, don't speak to him," "_Ash_ you please," "Not _jush_ yet," "We always _passh_ your house in going to call on _Missh_ Yates,--she lives near _Palash_ Yard;" and so on through all the possibilities of such a combination. This is decided, unmitigated _cockneyism_, having its parallel in nothing except the broken English of the sons of Abraham; and to adopt it in conversation is certainly "not speaking like a Christian." The effect of this pronunciation on the ear is as though the mouth of the speaker were filled with froth, which impedes the utterance, and gives the semblance of a defect where nature had kindly intended perfection; but the radical cause of this, and of many other mispronunciations, is the carelessness, sometimes the ignorance, of teachers, who permit children to read and speak in a slovenly manner, without opening their teeth, or taking any pains to acquire a distinct articulation. XII. Whilst we are on the subject of Prosody, we must not omit to mention the vicious pronunciation occasionally given to the words _new_, _due_, _Tuesday_, _stupid_, and a few others, sometimes corrupted into _noo_, _doo_, _Toosday_, _stoopid_, &c., by way of refinement, perhaps, for lips which are too delicate to utter the clear, broad, English _u_. XIII. Never say "Cut it in _half_," for this you cannot do unless you could _annihilate one_ half. You may "cut it in two," or "cut it in halves," or "cut it through," or "divide it," but no human ability will enable you to _cut it in half_. XIV. Never speak of "lots" and "loads" of things. Young men allow themselves a diffusive license of speech, and of quotation, which has introduced many words into colloquial style that do not at all tend to improve or dignify the language, and which, when heard from _ladies_' lips, become absolute vulgarisms. A young man may talk recklessly of "lots of bargains," "lots of money," "lots of fellows," "lots of fun," &c., but a lady may _not_. Man may indulge in any latitude of expression within the bounds of sense and decorum, but woman has a narrower range,--even her mirth must be subjected to rule. It may be _naïve_, but must never be grotesque. It is not that we would have _primness_ in the sex, but we would have refinement. Women are the purer and the more ornamental part of life, and when _they_ degenerate, the Poetry of Life is gone. XV. "Loads" is a word quite as objectional as "lots," unless it can be reduced to a load of _something_, such as a _ship_-load, a _wagon_-load, a _cart_-load, a _horse_-load, &c. We often hear such expressions as "loads of shops," "loads of authors," "loads of compliments;" but as shops, authors, compliments, are things not usually piled up into loads, either for ships or horses, we cannot discover the propriety of the application. XVI. Some people, guiltless of those absurdities, commit a great error in the use of the word _quantity_, applying it to things of _number_, as "a quantity of friends," "a quantity of ships," "a quantity of houses," &c. _Quantity_ can be applied only where _bulk_ is indicated, as "a quantity of land," "a quantity of timber;" but we cannot say, "a quantity of fields," "a quantity of trees," because _trees_ and _fields_ are specific individualities. Or we may apply it where individualities are taken in the gross, without reference to modes, as "a quantity of luggage," "a quantity of furniture;" but we cannot say "a quantity of boxes," "a quantity of chairs and tables," for the same reason which is given in the former instances. We also apply the term _quantity_ to those things of number which are too minute to be taken separately, as "a quantity of beans," "a quantity of oats," &c., &c. XVII. Avoid favorite words and phrases; they betray a poverty of language or of imagination not creditable to a cultivated intellect. Some people are so unfortunate as to find all things _vulgar_ that come "betwixt the wind and their nobility;" others find them _disgusting_. Some are always _anticipating_, others are always _appreciating_. Multitudes are _aristocratic_ in all their relations, other multitudes are as _distingués_. These two words are chiefly patronized by those whose pretensions in such respects are the most questionable. To some timid spirits, born under malignant influences no doubt, most things present an _awful_ appearance, even though they come in shapes so insignificant as a cold day or an aching finger. But, thanks to that happy diversity of Nature which throws light as well as shadow into the human character, there are minds of brighter vision and more cheerful temperament, who behold all things _splendid_, _magnificent_, down to a cup of small beer, or a half-penny orange. Some people have a grandiloquent force of expression, thereby imparting a _tremendous_ or _thundering_ character even to little things. This is truly carrying their conceptions into the sublime,--sometimes a step beyond. We have, however, no intention of particularizing _all_ the "pet" phrases which salute the ear; but the enumeration of a few of them may make the _candid_ culprit smile, and avoid those trifling absurdities for the future. * * * * * We would, under favor, suggest to the reader the advantage of not relying too confidently on knowledge acquired by habit and example alone. There are many words in constant use which are perverted from their original meanings; and if we were to dip into some standard dictionary occasionally, search out the true meanings of words with which we have fancied ourselves acquainted, and convict ourselves of _all_ the errors we have been committing in following the crowd, our surprise, perhaps, would equal that of Molière's _Bourgeois Gentilhomme_ when he discovered that he had been talking _prose_ for forty years. The words _feasible_, _ostensible_, _obnoxious_, _apparent_, _obtain_, _refrain_, _domesticated_, and _centre_, are expressions which, nine times out of ten, are misapplied, besides a host of others whose propriety is never questioned, so firmly has custom riveted the bonds of ignorance. In closing this little volume, the writer begs leave to say that the remarks offered are intended only as "Hints," which they who desire perfection may easily improve, by a little exercise of the understanding, and a reference to more extensive sources, into a competent knowledge of their own tongue; also as _warnings_ to the careless, that their lapses do not pass so unobserved as they are in the habit of supposing. Though many of the syntactical errors herein mentioned are to be found in the works of some of our best writers, they are _errors_ nevertheless, and stand as blemishes upon the productions of their genius, like unsightly excrescences upon a lovely skin. Genius is above grammar, and this conviction may inspire in some bosoms an undue contempt for the latter. But grammar is a constituent part of good education, and a neglect of it _might_ argue a _want_ of education, which would, perhaps, be mortifying. It is an old axiom that "civility costs nothing," and surely grammatical purity need not cost _much_ to people disposed to pay a little attention to it, and who have received a respectable education already. It adds a grace to eloquence, and raises the standard of language where eloquence is not. A handsome man or handsome woman is not improved by a shabby or slatternly attire; so the best abilities are shown to a disadvantage through a style marked by illiteracies. PART IV. MISTAKES AND IMPROPRIETIES IN SPEAKING AND WRITING CORRECTED. 1. HAVE you _learned_ French yet? say _learnt_, as _learned_ is now used only as an adjective,--as, _a learned man_. Pronounce _learned_ in _two_ syllables. 2. The business would suit any one who _enjoys bad health_ [from an advertisement in a London newspaper]; say, any one _in a delicate state of health_, or, _whose health is but indifferent_. 3. "We have no _corporeal_ punishment here," said a schoolmaster once to the author of this little work. _Corporeal_ is opposed to _spiritual_; say, _corporal_ punishment. _Corporeal_ means _having a body_. The Almighty is not a _corporeal_ being, but a _spirit_, as St. John tells us. 4. That was a _notable_ circumstance. Pronounce the first syllable of _notable_ as _no_ in _notion_. Mrs. Johnson is a _notable_ housewife; that is to say, _careful_. Pronounce the first syllable of _notable_ as _not_ in _Nottingham_. 5. Put an _advertisement_ in the "Times." Pronounce _advertisement_ with the accent on _ver_, and not on _tise_. 6. He _rose up_ and left the room; leave out _up_. 7. You have _sown_ it very badly; say, _sewed_ it. 8. Mr. Dupont _learnt_ me French; say, _taught_. The _master teaches_, but the _pupil learns_. 9. John and Henry both read well, but John is the _best_ reader; say, the _better_ reader, as _best_ can only be said when _three or more persons_ or objects are compared. 10. The _two first_ pupils I had; say, the _first two_. 11. He has _mistook_ his true interest; say, _mistaken_. 12. Have you _lit_ the fire, Mary? say, _lighted_. 13. The doctor _has not yet came_; say, _has not yet come_. 14. I have always _gave_ him good advice; say, _given_. 15. To be is an _auxiliary_ verb. Pronounce _auxiliary_ in _five_ syllables, sounding the second _i_, and _not in four_, as we so frequently hear it. 16. _Celery_ is a pleasant edible; pronounce _celery_ as it is written, and _not salary_. 17. Are you at _leisure_? pronounce _lei_ in _leisure_ the same as _Lei_ in _Leith_, and _not_ so as to rhyme with _measure_. 18. Have you seen _the Miss Browns_ lately? say, _the Misses Brown_. 19. You have soon _forgot_ my kindness; say, _forgotten_. 20. He keeps _his coach_; say, _his carriage_. 21. John is my _oldest_ brother; say, _eldest_. _Elder_ and _eldest_ are applied to _persons_,--_older_ and _oldest_ to _things_. 22. Disputes have frequently _arose_ on that subject; say, _arisen_. 23. The cloth was _wove_ in a very short time; say, _woven_. 24. French is _spoke_ in every state in Europe; say, _spoken_. 25. He writes as the best authors would have _wrote_, had they _writ_ on the same subject; say, would have _written_,--had they _written_. 26. I prefer the _yolk_ of an egg to the white; say, _yelk_, and sound the _l_. 27. He is now very _decrepid_; say, _decrepit_. 28. I am very fond of _sparrowgrass_; say, _asparagus_, and pronounce it with the accent on _par_. 29. You are very _mischievous_. Pronounce _mischievous_ with the accent on _mis_, and _not on chie_, and do not say _mischievious_. 30. It was very _acceptable_. Pronounce _acceptable_ with the accent on _cept_, and _not on ac_, as we so often hear it. 31. "No conversation be permitted in the Reading Room to the interruption of the company present. _Neither Smoking or Refreshments allowed_" [from the prospectus of a "Literary and Scientific Institution"]; insert _can_ after _conversation_, and say, _neither smoking nor refreshments_. 32. _No extras or vacations_[from the prospectus of a schoolmistress near London]; say, _neither extras nor vacations_. 33. He is very covetous. Pronounce _covetous_ as if it were written _covet us_, and _not covetyus_, as is almost universally the case. 34. I intend to _summons_ him; say, _summon_. _Summons_ is a _noun_, and _not a verb_. 35. Dearly _beloved_ brethren. Pronounce _beloved_ in _three_ syllables, and _never in two_, as some clergymen do. 36. He is now _forsook_ by every one; say, _forsaken_. 37. Not _as I know_; say, _that I know_. 38. He came _for to do_ it; leave out _for_. 39. They have just _rose_ from the table; say, _risen_. 40. He is quite _as good as me_; say, _as good as I_. 41. _Many an one_ has done the same; say, _many a one_. _A_, and _not an_, is used before the _long sound of u_, that is to say, when _u_ forms _a distinct syllable of itself_, as, _a unit_, _union_, _a university_. It is also used before _eu_, as, _a euphony_; and likewise before the word _ewe_, as, _a ewe_. We should also say, _a youth_, not _an youth_. 42. _Many people_ think so; say, _many persons_, as _people_ means _a nation_. 43. "When our ships sail among the _people_ of the Eastern islands, _those people_ do not ask for gold,--'iron! iron!' is the call." [From a work by a peer of literary celebrity.] Say, among the _inhabitants_; and, instead of _those people_, which is ungrammatical, say, _those persons_. 44. _Was you_ reading just now? say, _were you_. 45. I have _not had no dinner yet_; say, _I have had no dinner yet_, or, I have _not yet had my dinner_, or, _any dinner_. 46. She will _never be no taller_; say, she will _never be taller_, or, she will _never be any taller_. 47. I _see him_ last Monday; say, _saw him_. 48. He was _averse from_ such a proceeding; say, _averse to_. 49. He has _wore_ his boots three months; say, _worn_. 50. He has _trod_ on my toes; say, _trodden_. 51. Have you _shook_ the cloth? say, _shaken_. 52. I have _rang_ several times; say, _rung_. 53. I _knowed_ him at once; say, _knew_. 54. He has _growed_ very much; say, _grown_. 55. George has _fell_ down stairs; say, _fallen_. 56. He has _chose_ a very poor pattern; say, _chosen_. 57. They have _broke_ a window; say, _broken_. 58. Give me _them books_; say, _those books_. 59. My brother gave me _them there pictures_; say, gave me _those pictures_. 60. Whose are _these here books_? say, _these books_. 61. The men _which_ we saw; say, _whom_. 62. The books _what_ you have; say, _which_, or _that_. 63. The boy _as is_ reading; say, _who is_ reading. 64. The pond is _froze_; say, _frozen_. 65. He has _took_ my slate; say, _taken_. 66. He has often _stole_ money from him; say, _stolen_. 67. They have _drove_ very fast; say, _driven_. 68. I have _rode_ many miles to-day; say, _ridden_. 69. You cannot _catch_ him; pronounce _catch_ so as to rhyme with _match_, and not _ketch_. 70. Who has _got_ my slate? leave out _got_. 71. What are you _doing of_? leave out _of_. 72. _If I was rich_ I would buy a carriage; say, _If I were_. 73. We have all within us an _impetus_ to sin; pronounce _impetus_ with the accent on _im_, and not on _pe_, as is very often the case. 74. He may go to the _antipodes_ for what I care; pronounce _antipodes_ with the accent on _tip_, and let _des_ rhyme with _ease_. It is a word of _four_ syllables, and _not of three_, as many persons make it. 75. _Vouchsafe_, a word seldom used, but, when used, the first syllable should rhyme with _pouch_. _Never say, vousafe._ 76. Ginger is a good _stomachic_; pronounce _stomachic_ with the accent on _mach_, sounding this syllable _mak_, and _not mat_, as is often the case. 77. The land in those parts is very _fertile_; pronounce _fertile_ so as to rhyme with _pill_. The _ile_ in all words must be sounded _ill_, with the exception of _exile_, _senile_, _gentile_, _reconcile_, and _camomile_, in which _ile_ rhymes with _mile_. 78. _It is surprising the fatigue he undergoes_; say, _The fatigue he undergoes is surprising_. 79. _Benefited_; often spelt _benefitted_, but _incorrectly_. 80. _Gather_ up the fragments; pronounce _gather_ so as to rhyme with _lather_, and _not gether_. 81. I _propose_ going to town next week; say, _purpose_. 82. If I _am not mistaken_, you are in the wrong; say, If I _mistake not_. 83. _Direct_ your letters to me at Mr. Jones's; say, _Address_ your letters. 84. Wales is a very _mountainious_ country; say, _mountainous_, and place the accent on _moun_. 85. Of two evils choose _the least_; say, _the less_. 86. _Exag'gerate_; pronounce _exad'gerate_, and _do not sound agger_ as in the word _dagger_, which is a very common mistake. 87. He knows _little or nothing of Latin_; say, _little, if anything, of Latin_. 88. He keeps a _chaise_; pronounce it _shaise_, and not _shay_. It has a regular plural, _chaises_. 88. The _drought_ lasted a long time; pronounce _drought_ so as to rhyme with _snout_, and not _drowth_. 90. The man was _hung_ last week; say, _hanged_; but say, I am fond of _hung beef_. _Hang, to take away life by hanging_, is a regular verb. 91. We _conversed together_ on the subject; leave out _together_, as it is implied in _conversed_, _con_ being equivalent to _with_, that is to say, _We talked with each other_, &c. 92. The affair was _compromised_; pronounce _compromised_ in three syllables, and place the accent on _com_, sounding _mised_ like _prized_. The word has nothing to do with _promised_. The noun _compromise_ is accented like _compromised_, but _mise_ must be pronounced _mice_. 93. A _steam-engine_; pronounce _engine_ with _en_ as in _pen_, and _not like in_, and _gine_ like _gin_. 94. Numbers were _massacred_; pronounce _massacred_ with the accent on _mas_, and _red_ like _erd_, as if _mas'saker'd_, never _mas'sacreed_. 95. The king of Israel and the king of Judah sat _either of them_ on his throne; say, _each of them_. _Either_ signifies the _one_ or the _other_, but _not both_. _Each_ relates to _two or more objects_, and signifies _both of the two_, or _every one of any number taken singly_. _Never_ say "_either_ of the three," but "_each_ or _any one_ of the three." 96. A _respite_ was granted the convict; pronounce _respite_ with the accent on _res_, and sound _pite_ as _pit_. 97. He soon _returned back_; leave out _back_, which is implied by _re_ in _returned_. 98. The _horizon_ is the line that terminates the view; pronounce _horizon_ with the accent on _ri_, and not on _ho_. 99. She has _sang_ remarkably well; say, _sung_. 100. He had _sank_ before assistance arrived; say, _sunk_. 101. I have often _swam_ across the Tyne; say, _swum_. 102. I found my friend better than I expected _to have found him_; say, _to find him_. 103. I intended _to have written_ a letter yesterday; say, _to write_, as however long it now is since I thought of writing, "_to write_" was then present to me, and must still be considered as present when I bring back that time and the thoughts of it. 104. His death _shall be_ long regretted [from a notice of a death in a newspaper]; say, _will be_ long, &c. _Shall_ and _will_ are often confounded; the following rule, however, may be of use to the reader. Mere _futurity_ is expressed by _shall_ in the _first_ person, and by _will_ in the _second_ and _third_; the _determination_ of the speaker by _will_ in the _first_, and _shall_ in the _second_ and _third_; as, I WILL go to-morrow, I SHALL go to-morrow. N. B. The latter sentence simply expresses a future event; the former expresses my determination. 105. "_Without_ the grammatical form of a word can be recognized at a glance, little progress can be made in reading the language" [from a very popular work on the study of the Latin language]; say, _Unless_ the grammatical, &c. The use of _without_ for _unless_ is a very common mistake. 106. Have you begun _substraction_ yet? say, _subtraction_. 107. He claimed admission to the _chiefest_ offices; say, _chief_. _Chief_, _right_, _supreme_, _correct_, _true_, _universal_, _perfect_, _consummate_, _extreme_, &c., _imply_ the superlative degree without _est_ or _most_. In language sublime or impassioned, however, the word _perfect_ requires the superlative form to give it effect. A lover, enraptured with his mistress, would naturally call her the _most perfect_ of her sex. 108. The ship had _sprang_ a leak; say, _sprung_. 109. I _had rather_ do it now; say, I _would rather_. 110. He was served with a _subpoena_; pronounce _subpoena_ with the accent on _poe_, which you will sound like _tea_, and sound the _b_ distinctly. _Never pronounce the word soopee'na._ 111. I have not travelled _this twenty years_; say, _these twenty years_. 112. He is _very much the gentleman_; say, He is _a very gentlemanly man_, or _fellow_. 113. The _yellow_ part of an egg is very nourishing; _never_ pronounce _yellow_ like _tallow_, which we so often hear. 114. We are going to the _zoological_ gardens; pronounce _zoological_ in _five_ syllables, and place the accent on _log_ in _logical_. Sound _log_ like _lodge_, and _the first two o's in distinct syllables_. _Never_ make _zool_ _one_ syllable. 115. He always preaches _extempore_; pronounce _extempore_ in _four_ syllables, with the accent on _tem_, and _never in three_, making _pore_ to rhyme with _sore_. 116. _Naught_ and _aught_; _never_ spell these words _nought_ and _ought_. There is no such word as _nought_, and _ought_ is a verb. 117. Allow me to _suggest_; pronounce _sug_ so as to rhyme with _mug_, and _gest_ like _jest_. Never _sudjest_. 118. The Emperor of Russia is a _formidable_ personage; pronounce _formidable_ with the accent on _for_, and _not on mid_, as is often the case. 119. Before the words _heir_, _herb_, _honest_, _honor_, _hostler_, _hour_, _humble_, and _humor_, and their compounds, instead of the article _a_, we make use of _an_, as the _h_ is not sounded; likewise before words beginning with _h_ that are _not_ accented on the _first syllable_, such as _heroic_, _historical_, _hypothesis_, &c., as, _an heroic action_, _an historical work_, _an hypothesis_ that can scarcely be allowed. N. B. The letter _h_ is seldom mute at the beginning of a word; but from the negligence of tutors and the inattention of pupils many persons have become almost incapable of acquiring its just and full pronunciation. It is, therefore, incumbent on teachers to be particularly careful to inculcate a clear and distinct utterance of this sound. 120. He was _such an extravagant young man_ that he soon spent his whole patrimony; say, _so extravagant a young man_. 121. I saw the _slough_ of a snake; pronounce _slough_ so as to rhyme with _rough_. 122. She is _quite the lady_; say, She is _very lady-like in her demeanor_. 123. He is _seldom or ever_ out of town; say, _seldom, if ever_, out of town. 124. Death _unloosed_ his chains; say, _loosed_ his chains. 125. It is dangerous to walk _of a_ slippery morning; say, _on a_ slippery morning. 126. He who makes himself famous by his eloquence, illustrates his origin, let it be _never so mean_; say, _ever so mean_. 127. His fame is acknowledged _through_ Europe; say, _throughout_ Europe. 128. The bank of the river is frequently _overflown_; say, _overflowed_. 129. _Previous to_ my leaving England I called on his lordship; say, _previously to_ my leaving, &c. 130. I doubt _if this_ will ever reach you; say, _whether this_, &c. 131. He was _exceeding kind_ to me; say, _exceedingly kind_. 132. I lost _near_ twenty pounds; say, _nearly_. 133. _Bills are requested to be paid quarterly_; say, _It is requested that bills be paid quarterly_. 134. It was _no use asking_ him any more questions; say, _of no use to ask him_, &c. 135. The Americans said they _had no right_ to pay taxes; say, they _were under no obligation_ to pay, &c. 136. I _throwed_ my box away, and _never took no more snuff_; say, I _threw_, &c., and _took snuff no more_. 137. She was _endowed_ with an exquisite taste for music; say, _endued_ with, &c. 138. I intend to _stop_ at home; say, to _stay_. 139. At this time I _grew_ my own corn; say, I _raised_, &c. 140. He _was_ no sooner departed than they expelled his officers; say, he _had_ no sooner, &c. 141. He _was_ now retired from public business; say, _had_ now retired, &c. 142. They _were_ embarked in a common cause; say, _had_ embarked, &c. 143. Hostilities _were_ now become habitual; say, _had_ now become. 144. Brutus and Aruns killed _one another_; say, _each other_. 145. Pray, sir, who _may you be_? say, who _are you_? 146. Their character as a warlike people _is_ much degenerated; say, _has_ much, &c. 147. He is gone on an _errand_; pronounce _errand_ as it is written, and not _arrant_. 148. In a popular work on arithmetic we find the following sum,--"If for 7_s._ 8_d._, I can buy 9 lbs. of raisins, _how much_ can I purchase for £56 16_s._?" say, "_what quantity_ can I," &c. Who would think of saying "_how much raisins_?" 149. Be very careful in distinguishing between _indite_ and _indict_; _key_ and _quay_; _principle_ and _principal_; _check_ and _cheque_; _marshal_ and _martial_; _counsel_ and _council_; _counsellor_ and _councillor_; _fort_ and _forte_; _draft_ and _draught_; _place_ and _plaice_; _stake_ and _steak_; _satire_ and _satyr_; _stationery_ and _stationary_; _ton_ and _tun_; _levy_ and _levee_; _foment_ and _ferment_; _fomentation_ and _fermentation_; _petition_ and _partition_; _practice_ and _practise_; _Francis_ and _Frances_; _dose_ and _doze_; _diverse_ and _divers_; _device_ and _devise_; _wary_ and _weary_; _salary_ and _celery_; _radish_ and _reddish_; _treble_ and _triple_; _broach_ and _brooch_; _ingenious_ and _ingenuous_; _prophesy_ and _prophecy_; _fondling_ and _foundling_; _lightning_ and _lightening_; _genus_ and _genius_; _desert_ and _dessert_; _currier_ and _courier_; _pillow_ and _pillar_; _executer_ and _executor_; _suit_ and _suite_; _ridicule_ and _reticule_; _lineament_ and _liniment_; _track_ and _tract_; _lickerish_ and _licorice_; _statute_ and _statue_; _ordinance_ and _ordnance_; _lease_ and _leash_; _recourse_ and _resource_; _straight_ and _strait_; _immerge_ and _emerge_; _style_ and _stile_; _compliment_ and _complement_; _bass_ and _base_; _contagious_ and _contiguous_; _eminent_ and _imminent_; _eruption_ and _irruption_; _precedent_ and _president_; _relic_ and _relict_. 150. I prefer _radishes_ to _cucumbers_; pronounce _radishes_ exactly as it is spelt, and not _redishes_, and the _u_ in the first syllable of _cucumber_ as in _fuel_, and not as if the word were _cowcumber_. 151. Never pronounce _barbarous_ and _grievous_, _bartarious_ and _grievious_. 152. The _two last_ chapters are very interesting; say, The _last two_, &c. 153. The soil on these islands is so very thin, that little vegetation is produced upon them _beside_ cocoanut trees; say, _with the exception of_, &c. 154. He restored it _back_ to the owner; leave out _back_. 155. _Here_, _there_, _where_, are generally better than _hither_, _thither_, _whither_, with verbs of motion; as, _Come here_, _Go there_. N. B. _Hither_, _thither_, and _whither_, which were formerly used, are now considered stiff and inelegant. 156. _As far as I_ am able to judge, the book is well written; say, _So far as_, &c. 157. It is doubtful whether he will play _fairly or no_; say, _fairly or not_. 158. "The Pilgrim's _Progress_;" pronounce _progress_, _prog-ress_, not _pro-gress_. 159. He is a boy of a great _spirit_; pronounce _spirit_ exactly as it is written, and never _sperit_. 160. The _camelopard_ is the tallest of known animals; pronounce _camelopard_ with the accent on the _second_ syllable. Never call it _camel leopard_, as is so often heard. 161. He is very _awkward_; never say, _awkard_. 162. He ran _again_ me; I stood _again_ the wall; instead of _again_, say _against_. Do it _again_ the time I mentioned; say, _by_ the time, &c. 163. I always act _agreeable_ to my promise; say, _agreeably_. 164. The study of syntax should be _previously_ to that of punctuation; say, _previous_. 165. No one should incur censure for being tender of _their_ reputation; say, of _his_ reputation. 166. They were all _drownded_; say, _drowned_. 167. _Jalap_ is of great service; pronounce _jalap_ exactly as it is written, NEVER _jollop_. 168. He is gone on a _tour_; pronounce _tour_ so as to rhyme with _poor_, _never_ like _tower_. 169. The rain _is_ ceased; say, _has_ ceased. 170. _They laid their heads together_, and formed their plan; say, _They held a consultation_, &c. _Laid their heads together_ savors of SLANG. 171. The _chimley_ wants sweeping; say, _chimney_. 172. I was walking _towards_ home; pronounce _towards_ so as to rhyme with _boards_. _Never_ say _to wards_. 173. It is a _stupenduous_ work; say, _stupendous_. 174. A _courier_ is expected from Paris; pronounce _cou_ in _courier_ so as to rhyme with _too_. _Never_ pronounce _courier_ like _currier_. 175. Let each of us mind _their_ own business; say, _his_ own business. 176. Is this or that the _best_ road? say, the _better_ road. 177. _Rinse_ your mouth; pronounce _rinse_ as it is written, and NEVER _rense_. "_Wrench your mouth_," said a fashionable dentist one day to the author of this work. 178. The book is not _as_ well printed as it ought to be; say, _so_ well printed, &c. 179. Webster's _Dictionary_ is an admirable work; pronounce _dictionary_ as if written _dik-shun-a-ry_; _not_, as is too commonly the practice, _dixonary_. 180. Some disaster has certainly _befell_ him; say, _befallen_. 181. She is a pretty _creature_; never pronounce _creature_, _creeter_, as is often heard. 182. We went to see the _Monument_; pronounce _monument_ exactly as it is written, and _not_ as many pronounce it, _moniment_. 183. I am very wet, and must go and _change myself_; say, _change my clothes_. 184. He has had a good _education_; _never_ say, _edication_, which is often heard, nor _edicate_ for _educate_. 185. He is much better _than me_; say, _than I_. 186. You are stronger _than him_; say, _than he_. 187. I had _as lief_ stand; say, I _would as soon_ stand. 188. He is _not a whit_ better; say, _in no degree_ better. 189. They are _at loggerheads_; say, _at variance_. 190. His character is _undeniable_,--a very common expression; say, _unexceptionable_. 191. Bring me the _lantern_; never spell _lantern_, _lanthorn_. 192. The room is twelve _foot_ long, and nine _foot_ broad; say, twelve _feet_, nine _feet_. 193. He is _singular_, though _regular_ in his habits, and also very _particular_; beware of leaving out the _u_ in _singular_, _regular_, and _particular_, which is a very common practice. 194. They are detained _at_ France; say, _in_ France. 195. He lives _at_ London; say, _in_ London, and beware of pronouncing _London_, as many careless persons do, _Lunnun_. _At_ should be applied to small towns. 196. No _less_ than fifty persons were there; say, No _fewer_, &c. 197. _Such another_ mistake, and we shall be ruined; say, _Another such_ mistake, &c. 198. It is _some distance_ from our house; say, _at some distance_, &c. 199. I shall call _upon_ him; say, _on_ him. 200. He is a Doctor of _Medicine_; pronounce _medicine_ in _three_ syllables, NEVER in _two_. 201. They told me to enter _in_; leave out _in_, as it is implied in _enter_. 202. His _strength_ is amazing; never say, _strenth_. 203. "_Mistaken_ souls, who dream of heaven,"--this is the beginning of a popular hymn; it should be, "_Mistaking_ souls," &c. _Mistaken wretch_, for _mistaking wretch_, is an apostrophe that occurs everywhere among our poets, particularly those of the stage; the most incorrigible of all, and the most likely to fix and disseminate an error of this kind. 204. Give me both _of_ those books; leave out _of_. 205. Whenever I try to write well, I _always_ find I can do it; leave out _always_, which is unnecessary. 206. He plunged _down_ into the stream; leave out _down_. 207. She is the _matron_; say _may-tron_, and not _mat-ron_. 208. Give me _leave_ to tell you; NEVER say _leaf_ for _leave_. 209. The _height_ is considerable; pronounce _height_ so as to rhyme with _tight_. Never _hate_ nor _heighth_. 210. Who has my _scissors_? _never_ call _scissors_, _sithers_. 211. First _of all_ I shall give you a lesson in French, and last _of all_ in music; leave out _of all_ in both instances, as unnecessary. 212. I shall have finished by the _latter_ end of the week; leave out _latter_, which is unnecessary. 213. They sought him _throughout_ the _whole_ country; leave out _whole_, which is implied in _throughout_. 214. Iron sinks _down_ in water; leave out _down_. 215. I own that I did not come soon enough; but _because why_? I was detained; leave out _because_. 216. Have you seen the new _pantomime_? never say _pantomine_, as there is no such word. 217. I _cannot by no means_ allow it; say, I _can by no means_, &c., or, I _cannot by any means_, &c. 218. He _covered it over_; leave out _over_. 219. I bought _a new pair of shoes_; say, _a pair of new shoes_. 220. He _combined together_ these facts; leave out _together_. 221. My brother called on me, and we _both_ took a walk; leave out _both_, which is unnecessary. 222. The _duke_ discharged his _duty_; sound the _u_ in _duke_ and _duty_ like the word _you_, and carefully avoid saying, _dook_ and _dooty_, or _doo_ for _dew_. 223. _Genealogy_, _geography_, and _geometry_ are words of Greek derivation; beware of saying, _geneology_, _jography_, and _jometry_, a very common practice. 224. He made out the _inventory_; place the accent in _inventory_ on the syllable _in_, and NEVER on _ven_. 225. He deserves _chastisement_; say, _chas-tiz-ment_, with the accent on _chas_, and NEVER on _tise_. 226. He threw the _rind_ away; never call _rind_, _rine_. 227. They contributed to his _maintenance_; pronounce _maintenance_ with the accent on _main_, and _never_ say, _maintainance_. 228. She wears a silk _gown_; never say, _gownd_. 229. Sussex is a _maritime_ county; pronounce the _last_ syllable of _maritime_ so as to rhyme with _rim_. 230. He _hovered_ about the enemy; pronounce _hovered_ so as to rhyme with _covered_. 231. He is a powerful _ally_; _never_ place the accent on _al_ in _ally_, as many do. 232. She bought a _diamond_ necklace; pronounce _diamond_ in _three_ syllables, NEVER in _two_, which is a very common practice. 233. He reads the "Weekly _Despatch_;" NEVER spell the word _despatch_, _dispatch_. 234. He said _as how_ you _was_ to do it; say, he said _that you were to do it_. 235. Never say, "_I acquiesce with you_;" but, "_I acquiesce in your proposal, in your opinion_," &c. 236. He is a distinguished _antiquarian_; say, _antiquary_. _Antiquarian_ is an adjective; _antiquary_, a noun. 237. In Goldsmith's "History of England" we find the following extraordinary sentence in one of the chapters on the reign of Queen Elizabeth:--"This" [a communication to Mary, Queen of Scots] "they effected by conveying their letters to her by means of a brewer _that supplied the family with ale through a chink in the wall of her apartment_." A queer brewer that,--to supply his ale through a chink in the wall! How easy the alteration to make the passage clear! "This they effected by conveying their letters to her _through a chink in the wall of her apartment, by means of a brewer that supplied the family with ale_." 238. Lavater wrote on _Physiognomy_; in the last word sound the _g_ distinctly, as _g_ is always pronounced before _n_ when it is not in the same syllable; as, _indignity_, &c. 239. She is a very clever _girl_; pronounce _girl_ as if written _gerl_; never say _gal_, which is very vulgar. 240. He built a large _granary_; pronounce _granary_ so as to rhyme with _tannery_, never call the word _grainary_. 241. Beware of using _Oh!_ and _O_ indiscriminately; _Oh!_ is used to express the emotion of _pain_, _sorrow_, or _surprise_; as, "Oh! the exceeding grace of God, who loves his creatures so." _O_ is used to express _wishing_, _exclamation_, or a direct _address_ to a person; as, "O mother, will the God above, Forgive my faults like thee?" 242. Some writers make a distinction between _farther_ and _further_; they are, in fact, the very same word. _Further_, however, is less used than _farther_, though it is the genuine form. 243. He did it _unbeknown_ to us; say, _unknown_, &c. 244. If I say "They retreated _back_," I use a word that is _superfluous_, as _back_ is implied in the syllable _re_ in _retreated_. Never place the accent on _flu_ in _superfluous_, but always on _per_. 245. In reading Paley's "Evidences of Christianity," I unexpectedly _lit on_ the passage I wanted; say, _met with_ the passage, &c. 246. He has ordered a _phaeton_ from his coach-maker; beware of saying, _pheton_ or _phaton_. The word should always be pronounced in _three_ syllables, with the accent on _pha_. N. B. In pha-e-ton the _a_ and _e_ do _not_ form a diphthong, as many suppose; the word is of Greek origin. 247. Be careful to use the hyphen (-) correctly; it joins compound words, and words broken by the ending of the line. The use of the hyphen will appear more clearly from the following example: "_many colored_ wings" means _many_ wings, which are _colored_; but "_many-colored_ wings" means "wings of _many colors_." 248. He had to wait in an _antechamber_; carefully avoid spelling the last word _antichamber_. N. B. An _antechamber_ is the chamber that leads to the chief apartment. _Ante_ is a LATIN PREPOSITION, and means _before_, as, to ante_date_, that is, "to date beforehand." _Anti_ is a GREEK PREPOSITION, and means _against_, as, anti_monarchical_, that is, "against government by a single person." 249. The _axe_ was very sharp; never spell _axe_ without the _e_. 250. The force of voice, which is placed on any particular word or words to distinguish the sense, is called _emphasis_ and those words are called _emphatical words_: as, "Grammar is a _useful_ science." In this sentence the word _useful_ is emphatical. The great importance of _emphasis_ may be seen by the following example: 1. Will you _call_ on me to-morrow? Yes, I shall [_call_]. 2. Will you call on _me_ to-morrow? No, but I shall call on your _brother_. 3. Will you call on me _to-morrow_? No, but I shall on the _following day_. 4. Will _you_ call on me to-morrow? No, but my _brother_ will. 251. Never say _o-fences_ for _offences_; _pison_ for _poison_; _co-lection_ for _collection_; _voiolent_ for _violent_; _kiver_ for _cover_; _afeard_ for _afraid_; _debbuty_ for _deputy_. 252. He is a mere _cipher_; never spell _cipher_ with a _y_. 253. I was _necessitated_ to do it; a vile expression, and often made worse by _necessiated_ being used. Say, I was _obliged_, or _compelled_, to do it. 254. Gibbon wrote the "_Rise_ and Fall of the Roman Empire;" pronounce _rise_, the noun, so as to rhyme with _price_; _rise_, the verb, rhymes with _prize_. 255. Have you been to the _National_ Gallery? Never pronounce _national_ as if it were written _nay-shun-al_, a very common error, and by no means confined to uneducated persons. 256. I bought a new _umbrella_; beware of pronouncing _umbrella_, _umberella_, or _umbereller_, both very common errors. 257. He is a supporter of the _government_; beware of omitting the _n_ in the second syllable of _government_. A very common practice. 258. He strenuously maintained the _contrary_; never place the accent on the _second_ syllable in _contrary_. In the ancient and time-honored ditty, however, of "Mistress Mary, Quite _contrary_, How does your garden grow?" a ballad with which we are all more or less familiar, the word "_contrary_" _is_ accented on the _second_ syllable, so as to rhyme with the name of the venerable dame to whom these memorable lines were addressed. 259. "Received this day _of_ Mr. Brown, ten pounds;" say, "Received this day _from_", &c. 260. "In what case is the word _dominus_?" "In the _nominative_, sir." In the hurry of school pronunciation "_nominative_" is nearly always heard in _three_ syllables, as if written _nomnative_ or _nomative_, an error that should be very carefully avoided; it is a word of _four_ syllables. 261. Of whatever you _get_, endeavor to save something; and, with all your _getting_, _get_ wisdom. Carefully avoid saying _git_ for _get_, and _gitting_ for _getting_. 262. So intent was he on the song he was _singing_, as he stood by the fire, that he did not perceive that his clothes were _singeing_. N. B. Verbs ending with a _single e_ omit the _e_ when the termination _ing_ is added; as, _give_, _giving_. In _singeing_, however, the _e_ must be retained, to prevent its being confounded with _singing_. 263. The boy had a _swingeing_ for _swinging_ without permission. _Read the preceding note._ 264. The man who was _dyeing_ said that his father was then _dying_. Read the note in No. 262, in reference to _dyeing_; and observe that _die_ changes the _i_ into _y_ before the addition of the termination _ing_. 265. His _surname_ is Clifford; never spell the _sur_ in _surname_, _sir_, which shows an ignorance of is true derivation, which is from the Latin. 266. In "Bell's Life in London," of Saturday, Jan. 13th, of the current year [1855], there is a letter from a Scotchman to the editor on the subject of the declining salmon fisheries in Scotland. In one passage the writer thus expresses himself: "The Duke of Sutherland has got _almost no rent_ for these [salmon] rivers for the last four years," &c. The writer should have said, _scarcely any rent_. "_Almost no rent_" is a downright Scotticism. 267. His _mamma_ sent him to a preparatory school; _mamma_ is often written with one _m_ only, which is not, as may at first be supposed, in imitation of the French [_maman_], but in sheer ignorance. The word is pure Greek. 268. Active verbs often take a neuter sense; as, _The house is building_. Here _is building_ is used in a neuter signification, because it has no object after it. By this rule are explained such sentences as, _Application is wanting_, _The grammar is printing_, &c. 269. He _attackted_ me without the slightest provocation; say, _attacked_. 270. I saw him _somewheres_ in the city; say, _somewhere_. N. B. _Nowheres_, _everywheres_, and _anywheres_ are also very frequently heard. 271. He is still a _bacheldor_; say, _bachelor_. 272. His language was quite _blasphemous_; beware of placing the accent on _phe_ in _blasphemous_. A very common mistake. Place the accent on the syllable _blas_. 273. I fear I shall _discommode_ you; say, _incommode_. 274. I can do it _equally as well as_ he; leave out _equally_, which is altogether superfluous. 275. We could not forbear _from_ doing it; leave out _from_, which is unnecessary. 276. They accused him _for_ neglecting his duty; say, _of_ neglecting, &c. 277. He was made much _on_ at Bath; say, made much _of_, &c. 278. He is a man _on_ whom you can confide; say, _in_ whom, &c. 279. _I'm thinking_ he will soon arrive; say, _I think_, &c. 280. He was obliged to _fly_ the country; say, _flee_ the country. A very common mistake. 281. The snuffers _wants_ mending; say, _want_ mending. 282. His conduct admits _of_ no apology; leave out _of_, which is quite unnecessary. 283. A _gent_ has been here, inquiring for you,--a detestable, but very common, expression; say, a _gentleman_, &c. 284. That was _all along of_ you; say, That was _all your fault_. 285. You have no _call_ to be vexed with me; say, no _occasion_, &c. 286. I _don't_ know nothing about it,--a very common cockneyism; leave out _don't_. 287. I _had_ rather not, should be, I _would_ rather not. 288. I _had better_ go, should be, _It were better_ that I should go. 289. A _new pair_ of gloves, should be, A _pair of new_ gloves. 290. He is a _very rising_ man, should be, He is _rising rapidly_. 291. Apartments _to let_, should be, Apartments _to be let_. 292. No _less_ than ten persons, should be, No _fewer_ than ten persons. _Less_ must be applied to quantity, as, No _less_ than ten pounds. _Fewer_ must be applied to things. 293. I _never_ speak, _whenever_ I can help it, should be, I never speak _when_ I can help it. 294. _Before_ I do that, I must _first_ be paid, should be, Before I do that, I must be paid. 295. To _get over_ an illness, should be, To _survive_, or, To _recover from_ an illness. 296. To _get over_ a person, should be, To _persuade_ a person. 297. To _get over_ a fact, should be, To _deny_ or _refute_ it. 298. The _then_ Duke of Bedford, should be, The Duke of Bedford _of that day_, or, The _sixth_ Duke of Bedford. 299. The _then_ Mrs. Howard, should be, The Mrs. Howard _then living_. 300. A _couple_ of pounds, should be, _Two_ pounds. Couple implies union, as, A married couple. 301. He speaks _slow_, should be, He speaks _slowly_. 302. He is _noways_ in fault, should be, He is _nowise_ in fault. 303. He is _like_ to be, should be, He is _likely_ to be. 304. _All over_ the land, should be, _Over all_ the land. 305. I am stout in comparison _to_ you, should be, I am stout in comparison _with_ you. 306. At _best_, should be, At _the best_. 307. At _worst_, should be, At _the worst_. 308. The dinner was _all eat up_, should be, The dinner was _all eaten_. 309. I _eat_ heartily, should be, I _ate_ heartily. 310. As I _take_ it, should be, As I _see_ it, or _understand_ it. 311. I shall _fall down_, should be, I shall _fall_. 312. It fell _on_ the floor, should be, It fell _to_ the floor. 313. He _again repeated_ it, should be, He _repeated_ it. 314. His conduct was _approved of_ by all, should be, His conduct was _approved_ by all. 315. He was killed _by_ a cannon ball, should be, He was killed _with_ a cannon ball. The gun was fired _by_ a man. 316. Six weeks _back_, should be, Six weeks _ago_, or _since_. 317. _Every now and then_, should be, _Often_, or _Frequently_. 318. Who finds him _in_ money? should be, Who finds him money? 319. The _first of all_, should be, The _first_. 320. The _last of all_, should be, The _last_. 321. Be that as it _will_, should be, Be that as it _may_. 322. My _every_ hope, should be, _All_ my hopes. 323. Since _when_, should be, Since _which time_. 324. He put it _in_ his pocket, should be, He put it _into_ his pocket. 325. Since _then_, should be, Since _that time_. 326. The _latter_ end, should be, The _end_. 327. I saw it _in here_, should be, I saw it _here_. 328. That _ay'nt_ just, should be, That _is not_ just. 329. The hen is _setting_, should be, The hen is _sitting_. 330. The wind _sets_, should be, The wind _sits_. 331. To _lift up_, should be, To _lift_. 332. I said so _over again_, should be, I _repeated_ it. 333. From _here to there_, should be, From _this place to that_. 334. _Nobody else_ but him, should be, _Nobody_ but him. 335. The balloon _ascended up_, should be, The balloon _ascended_. 336. _This_ two days, should be, _These_ two days. 337. Do you _mean_ to come? should be, Do you _intend_ to come? 338. Each of them _are_, should be, Each of them _is_. _Each_ means one _and_ the other of two. 339. _Either_ of the _three_, should be, _Any one_ of the three. _Either_ means one _or_ the other of two. 340. _Neither_ one _or_ the other, should be, Neither one _nor_ the other. _Neither_ (not either) means not the one _nor_ the other of two. 341. Better _nor_ that, should be, Better _than_ that. 342. _Bad grammar_, should be, Bad or ungrammatical _English_. 343. As soon as _ever_, should be, As soon as. 344. You will _some_ day be sorry, should be, You will _one_ day be sorry. 345. From _now_, should be, From _this time_. 346. Therefore, I _thought_ it proper to write you, should be, Therefore, I _think_ it proper to write _to_ you. 347. _There's_ thirty, should be, There _are_ thirty. 348. _Subject matter_, should be, The subject. 349. A _summer's_ morning, should be, A _summer_ morning. 350. My clothes _have got_ too small, or too short, for me, should be, I have become too stout or too tall for my clothes. 351. A _most perfect_ poem, should be, A _perfect_ poem. Perfect, supreme, complete, brief, full, empty, true, false, do not admit of comparison. 352. Avoid using unmeaning or vulgar phrases in speaking, as, You don't say so? Don't you know? Don't you see? You know; You see; So, you see, &c. 353. Is Mr. Smith _in_? should be, Is Mr. Smith _within_? 354. The _other one_, should be, The other. 355. _Another one_, should be, Another. 356. I _left_ this morning. Name the place left. 357. Over head _and ears_, should be, Over _head_. 358. I may _perhaps_, or _probably_, should be, I may. 359. Whether he will or _no_, should be, Whether he will or _not_. 360. _Says_ I, should be, _Said_ I, or, I _said_. 361. He spoke _contemptibly_ of him, should be, He spoke _contemptuously_ of him. 362. _Was_ you? should be, _Were_ you? 363. I am _oftener_ well than ill, should be, I am _more frequently_ well than ill. 364. For _good and all_, should be, For _ever_. 365. It is _above_ a month since, should be, It is _more_ then a month since. 366. He is a _superior_ man, should be, He is _superior to most_ men. 367. He _need_ not do it, should be, He _needs_ not do it. 368. Go _over_ the bridge, should be, Go _across_ the bridge. 369. I was some distance from home, should be, I was _at_ some distance from home. 370. He _belongs_ to the _Mechanics'_ Institution, should be, He is a _member_ of the _Mechanics'_ Institution. 371. For _such another_ book, should be, For _another such_ book. 372. They _mutually_ loved _each other_, should be, They loved _each other_. 373. I _ay'nt_, should be, I _am not_. 374. I am _up to you_, should be, I _understand_ you. 375. Bread has _rose_, should be, Bread has _risen_. 376. He was in _eminent_ danger, should be, He was in _imminent_ danger. 377. 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