Glass. "-(H ^.^v^ «-■? HOW TO GET ON IN THE WORLD A3 DEMONSTKATBD BY THE LIFE AND LAKGUAGE AAAILLIAM COBBETT TO WHICH IS ADDED COBBETT'S ENG-LISH GRAMMAR WITH NOTES BY / ROBERT WATERS Teacher of Language and Literature in the Hoboken (K. J.) Academy NEW YORK: ^^/".-^r .. ,.v;-^esent against the absent : here was the power of the eyes pitted against that of the mem- ory : here were all the senses up m arms to subdue the influence of the thoughts : here was vanity, here was pas- sion, here was the spot of all spots in the world, and here were also the life, and the manners and the habits, and the pm-suits that I delighted in : here was everything that imagination can conceive, united in a conspiracy against the poor little brunette in England! What, then, did I fall in love at once with this bouquet of lilies and roses'? Oh! by no means. I was, however, so enchanted with the place ; I so much enjoyed its tranquility, the shade of the maple trees, the business of the farm, the sports of the water and of the woods, that I stayed there to the last possible minute, promising, at my departure, to come again as often as I possibly could ; a promise which I most punctually fulfilled. "Winter is the great season for jaunting and dancing {coXledL frolicking) in America. In this Province the river Condyict in Love and Courtship. 25 and the creeks were the only roads from settlement to settlement. In summer we travelled in canoes y in winter in sleighs on the ice or snow. During more than two yeai's I spent all the time I could with my Yankee friends : they were all fond of me : I talked to them about country affairs, my evident delight in which they took as a compli- ment to themselves : the father and mother treated me as one of then- children ; the sons as a brother ; and the daughter, who was as modest and as full of sensibility as she was beautiful, in a way to which a chap much less sanguine than I was would have given the tenderest inter- pretation ; which treatment I, especially in the last-men- tioned case, most cordially repaid. " It is when you meet in company with others of youi* OAvn age that you are, in love matters, put most frequently to the test, and exposed to detection. The next-door neigh- bor might, in that country, be ten miles off. We used to have a frolic, sometimes at one house and sometimes at another. Here, where female eyes are very much on the alert, no secret can long be kept ; and very soon father, mother, brothers, and the whole neighborhood looked upon the thing as certain, not excepting herself, to whom I, how- ever, had never once even talked of marriage, and had never even told her that I loved her. But I had a thousand times done these by implication, taking into view the in- terpretation that she would natui'ally put upon my looks, appellations, and acts ; and it was of this that I had to accuse myself. Yet I was not a deceiver • for my affection for her was very great ; I spent no really pleasant hoin-s but with her ; I was uneasy if she showed the slightest regai-d for any other yoxmg man; I was unhapy if the smallest matter affected her health or sj)mts : I quitted her in dejection, and retiu-ned to her with eager delight: many a time when I could get leave but for a day, I pad- dled in a canoe two whole succeeding nights, in order to pass that day with her. If this was not love, it was first 2 26 Life of William Cobhett cousin to it ; for as to any criminal intention, I no more thought of it, in her case, than if she had been my sister. Many times I jDut to myself the questions : ' What am I at? Is not this wrong? Why do I go?' But still I went. "Then, further in my excuse, my prior engagement, though carefully left unalluded to by both parties, was, in that thin population, and owing to the singular cu-cum- stances of it, and to the great talk that there always was about me, p)€.rfectly loell knoion to her and all her family. It was matter of so much notoriety and conversation in the Province, that Genekal Caeleton (brother of the late Lord Dorchester) who was the Governor when I was there, when he, about fifteen years afterwards, did me the hon- our, on his return to England, to come and see me at my house in Duke Street, Westminster, asked, before he went away, to see my vnfe, of whom he had heard so much before her marriage. So thatjhere was no deception on my part ; but still I ought not to have suffered even the most distant hope to be entertained by a person so innocent, so amiable, for whom I had so much affection, and to whose heart I had no right to give a single twinge. I .ought, from the very first, to have prevented the possibihty of her ever feeling pain on my account. I was you!iig, to be sure; but I was old enough to know what was my duty in this case, and I ought, dismissing my own feelings, to have had the resolution to perform it. " The last parting came ; and now came my just pun- ishment! The time was known to everybody, and was u-revocably fixed ; for I had to move with a regiment, and the embarkation of a regiment is an epoch in a thinly-set- tled province.. To describe this parting would be too painful even at this distant day, and with this frost of age upon my head. The kind and virtuous father came forty miles to see me, just as I was going on board in the river. His looks and words I have never forgotten. As the ves- The, (U)urt- Martial. 27 sel descended, slie passed the mouth of that creek., which I had so often entered with dehght ; and though England, and all that England contained, were before me, I lost sight of this creek with an aching heart. "On what trifles tru-n the great events in the hfe of man ! If I had received a cool letter from my intended wife ; if I had only heard a rumor of anything from which fickleness in her might have been inferred ; if I had found in her any, even the smallest, abatement of affection; if she had but let go any one of the hundi-ed strings by which she held my heart ; if any of these had occurred, never would the world have heard of me. Young as I was; able as I was as a soldier ; proud as I was of the admira- tion and commendations of which I was the object ; fond as I was, too, of the command, which, at so eai'ly an age, my rai'e conduct and gTeat natiu'al talents had given me ; sanguine as was my mind, and brilliant as were my pros- jDects; yet I had seen so much of the meannesses, the unjust pai'tialities, the insolent pomposity, the disgusting dissipations of that way of life, that I was weary of it ; I longed to exchange my fine laced coat for the Yankee farmer's homespun, to be where I should never behold the supple crouch of servihty, and never hear the hector- ing voice of authority again ; and, on the lonely banks of this branch-covered creek, which contained (she out of the question) everything congenial to my taste and dear to my heai't, I, unapplauded, unfeared, ujienvied and un- calumniated, should have lived and died." 28 Life of William Cohhett. CHAPTER V. THE COUET-IIARTIAL. Cobbett's connection with the army, however, was not destined to end agreeably to all i^arties. On obtaining his discharge from the regiment, he made an accusation of dishonesty against four of its officers, and a day was fixed for trial by Covirt-martial. But before the day of trial arrived, Cobbett had set out for France, and thus failed to appear to make good his accusation. Failing, after diligent inquiry, to find any trace of him, the coin*t proceeded with the trial, which resulted in the. acquittal of the accused. As this is a very serious matter, of which much has been made by the enemies of Cobbett, I think it right to give his defense — of the very existence of which some writers about him seem to be unaware — in his own words ; merely premising that in 1809 his adversaries had pub- lished a pamphlet, giving an account of the Court-martial, which must have been written by somebody having access to the government archives, for it contained documents found only in those archives. Cobbett says the extracts from the letters are garbled and imperfect in several par- ticulars. This j)amphlet, which was published for the express purpose of injuring his character, and destroying his infiuence as an opposition writer, was distributed by tens of thousands over the county in which he resided, and spread abroad for gratuitous distribution. In a letter to the people of Hampshire concerning this pamphlet, he gives an account of his progress in the army and his hon- orable discharge, and then says : " Wliile I was a corporal, I was made clerk to the regi- ment. In a very short time, the whole of the business, in that way, fell into my hands ; and at the end of about a The Court- Martial. 29 yepi*, neither adjutant, paymaster, or quaa'termaster could move an inch without my assistance. . . . As I ad- vanced in experience, I felt less and less respect for those whom I was compelled to obey. One suffers injustice from men of great endowment of mind with much less of heart-bui'ning than from men whom one cannot help de- sj)ising ; and if my officers had been men of manifest superiority of mind, I should perhaps not have so soon conceived the project of bringing them, or some of them at least, to shame and punishment for the divers flagrant breaches of the law committed by them, and for then- manifold, theii' endless Avrongs against the soldiers and against the public. " This project was conceived so early as the year 1787, when an affau' happened that first gave me a full insight into regimental justice. It was shortly this: that the quartermaster, who had the issuing of the men's provi- sions to them, kept about a fourth part of it to himself This, the old sergeants told me, had been the case for many years ; and they were quite astonished and teiTified at the idea of my complainmg of it. This I did, however, but the reception I met with convinced me that I must never make another complaint till I got safe to England, and safe out of the reach of that most curious of courts, a Court-martial. " From this thne forward, I began to coUect materials for an exposiu-e, upon my retru'n to England. I had ample opportunities for this, being the keeper of all the books, of every sort, in the regiment, and knowing the whole of its affairs better than any other man in it. But, the winter previous to our retru-n to England, I thought it necessary to make extracts fi'om the books, lest the books themselves should be destroyed. And here begins the history of the famous Coui't-martial. In order to be able to prove that these extracts were coiTect, it was neces- sary that I should have a witness as to then- being time 30 L'if& of William Cohhett. copies. This was a very ticklish point. One foohsh step here would have sent me down to the ranks with a pair of bloody shoulders. Yet it was necessary to have the wit- ness. I hesitated many months. At one time I had given the thing up. I dreamt twenty times, I daresay, of my papers being discovered and of bemg tried and flogged half to death. At last, however, some fresh act of injustice towards us made me set all danger at defi- ance. I opened my project to a corporal, whose name was William Bestland, who wrote in the office under me, who was a very honest fellow, who was very much bound to me for my goodness to him, and who was, with the sole exception of myself, the only sober man in the whole reg- iment. • "To work we went, and during a long winter, while the rest were boozing and snoring, we gutted no small part of the regimental books, rolls, and other documents. Our way was this : to take a copy, sign it with oiu* names, and clap the regimental seal to it, so that we might be able to swear to it when produced in coui't. All these papers were put into a little box, which I myself had made for the purpose. When we came to Portsmouth, there was a talk of searching all the boxes, etc., which gave us great alarm ; and induced us to take out .all the papers, put them in a bag, and trust them to a custom-house officer who conveyed them on shore, to his own house, whence I removed them a few days after. " Thus prepared, I went to London, and on the 14th of January, 1792, I wrote to the then Secretary-at-War, Sir George Yonge, stating my situation, my business with him, and my intentions ; enclosing him a letter of peti- tion from myself to the King, stating the substance of all the complaints I had to make; and which letter I re- quested Sir George Yonge to lay before the King. " I waited from the 14th to the 24th of January with- out receiving any answer at all, and then all I heard was 'The Co art- Martial. 31 that he Avishecl to see me at the War-office. At the War- office I was sho\vxi into an antechamber amongst numer- ous anxious-looking men, who, every time the door which led to the great man was opened, turned their eyes that Avay -wdth a motion as regular and as uniform as if they had been drilled to it. These people eyed me from head to foot, and I never shall forget their look when they saw that I Avas admitted into paradise without being detained a single moment in purgatory. " Sii" George Yonge heard my story; and that was all he appai'ently wanted of me. I was to hear from him again in a day or tioo; and, after waiting iov fifteen days, without hearing fi'om him, or any one else, upon the sub- ject, I wrote to him again, reminding him that I had from the lirst told him that I had no other business in London; that my stock of money was necessarily small ; and that to detain me in London iras to ruin me. Indeed, I had in the whole world but about 200 guineas, which was a great deal for a person in my situation to have saved. Every Aveek in London, especially as, by way of ej^isode, I had now married, took at least a couple of guineas from my stock. I therefore began to be very impatient, and indeed to be very suspicious that inilitary justice in England was pretty nearly akin to military justice in Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. " The letter I now -wrote was dated on the 10th of Febiniary, to which I got an answer on the 15th, though the answer might have been written in a moment. I was, in this answer, informed that it Avas the intention to try the accused on only part of the charges which I had pre- feiTed ; and from a new-modeled list of charges sent me by the Judge-Advocate on the 23d of February, it ap- peared that, even of those charges that Avere suffered to remain, the parts the most material were omitted. But this was not all. I had all along insisted that, unless the Coui't-mai'tial was held in London, I could not think of 82 Life of Willicmi Cobbett. appearing at it ; because, if held in a garrisoned plac^/ like Portsmouth, the thing must be a mere mockery. In spite of this, however, the Judge-Advocate's letter of the 23d February informed me that the court was to be held in Portsmouth or Chelsea. I remonstrated against this, and demanded that my remonstrance should be laid before the King, which, on the 29th, the Judge- Advocate prom- ised should be done by himself ; but on the 5th of March the Judge-Advocate informed me that he had laid my remonstrance before — lohom, think you ? Not the King, but the accused parties; who, of coui'se, thought the court ought to assemble at Portsmouth or Chelsea, and doubtless for the very reasons that led me to object to its being held there. " Plainly seeing what was going forward, I, on the 7tli of March, made, ^Vi a letter to Mr. Pitt, a representation of the whole case, giving him a history of the obstacles I had met with. ... This letter (which, by the by, the public robbers [who published the pamphlet] have not published) had the effect of changing the i:)lace of the Court-martial, which was now to be held in London ; but, as to my other ground of complaint, the leaving of the regimental books unsecured, it had no effect at all ; and, it will be recollected, that without those books, there could be, as to most of the weighty charges, no proof produced without bringmg forward Corporal Bestland, and the danger of doing that will be presently seen." On the 22d of January he wrote to Sir George Yonge, desiring him to have the regimental books secured, that is, taken out of the reach of the parties accused. Two days after this. Sir George assui-ed him in writing that he had taken care to have these documents secui'ed. Yet, notwithstandmg further assurances to the same effect, it now appeared from the pamphlet that " the first time any order for securing the books was given was on the I'&th of March.'''' " There is quite enough in this fact alone," The Court-Martial. 33 continues Cobbett, " to show the pubhc what sort of a chance I stood of obtaining justice." "Without these written documents," he continues, " nothing of importance could be proved, unless the non- commissioned officers and men of the regiment should hapj)en to get the better of then* di'ead of the lash ; and even then they could speak only from memory. All, therefore, depended upon those written documents as to the principal charges. Therefore, as the Coui-t-martial was to assemble on the 24th of March, I went down to Portsmouth on the 20th, in order to know for certain what had become of the books ; and I found, as I indeed suspected was the case, that they had never been secured at all; that they had been left in the hands of the accused from the 14th of January to the very hour- of trial ; and that, in short, my request as to this point, the positive condition as to this most important matter, had been totally disregarded. "There remained, then, nothing to rest upon with safety, but our extracts, confirmed by the evidence of Bestland, the corporal, who had signed them along with me; and this I had solemnly engaged with him not to have recourse to, unless he was first out of the army; that is to say, out of the reach of the vindictive and bloody lash. He was a very little fellow, not more than five feet high ; and had been set down to be discharg'ed when he went to England ; but there was a suspicion of his connection with me, and therefore they resolved to keep him. It would ha-\;e been cruel, and even perfidious, to have brought him forward under such cu'cumstances ; and, as there was no chance of domg anything without him, I resolved not to api:)ear at the Court-martial, unless the discharge of Bestland was first granted. Accord- ingly, on the 20th of March, I wrote from Eratton, a vil- lage neai" Portsmouth, to the Judge-Advocate, stating over again all the obstacles that had been thiown iu my 2* 34 Life of William Oobhett. way, complaining particularly that the books and docu- ments had been left in possession of the accused, contrary to my ui'gent request, and to the positive assurances of the Secretary-at-War, and concluding by demanding the discharge of a man, whom I should name, as the only condition upon which I would attend the Court-martial. I requested him to send me an answer by the next day, at night, at my former lodging ; and told him, that, unless such answer was received, he and those to whom my re- peated apiDlications had been made might do what they pleased with then- Court-martial; for that I confidently trusted that a few days wordd put me beyond the scope of then' power. " No answer came, and as I had learned, in the mean- while, that there was a design to prosecute me for sedi- tion, that was an additional motive to be quick in my movements. As I was gomg down to Portsmouth, I met several of the sergeants coming up, together with the music-master; and as they had none of them been in America, I wondered what they could be going to London for ; but, upon my return, I was told by a Captain Lane, who had been in the regiment, that they had been brought up to swear, that, at an entertainment given to them by me before my departure from the regiment, I had drunk, 'the destruction of the House of Brunswick.'' This was false, but I knew that that was no reason why it should not be swo7-n by such persons and in such a case. I had talked pretty freely upon the occasion alluded to ; but I had neither said nor thought anything against the King, and as to the House of Brunswick, I hardly knew what it meant. My head was filled with the corruptions and the baseness in the army. I knew nothing at all about poli- tics. Nor would any threat of this sort have induced me to get out of the way for a moment ; though it certainly would, if I had known my danger ; for glorious ' Jacobin- ical' times were just then beginning. Of this, however, lAfe as a Teacher and Author. 35 I knew nothing at all. I did not know what the Suspen- sion of the Habeas Corpus Act meant. " When you have a mind to do a thing, every trifle is an additional motive. Lane, who had enlisted me, and Avho had always shown great kindness towai'd me, told me they would send me to Botany Bay ; and I now verily believe that if I had remained, I should have furnished a pretty good examj^le to those who wished to correct mili- tary abuses. I did not, however, leave England from this motive. I could not obtain a chance of success without exposing the back of my poor, faithful friend, Bestland, which, even if I had not pledged myself not to do, I would not have done. It was useless to appear unless I could have tolerable faii'-play ; and, besides, it seemed better to leave the whole set to do as they pleased, than to be made a mortified witness of what it was quite evi- dent they had resolved to do." Leaving the reader to form his own opinion on this de- fense, I shall reserve what I have to say on the matter until I have got a little farther on in this history, and have recounted some other cu"cumstances necessary to be considered in connection with this matter. CHAPTEK VI. LIFE AS A TEACHER AND AUTHOE. BECOMES THE CHAMPION OF GEORGE III. The progress of the great French Eevolution (1792) was now beginning to create alarm, and Cobbett having read the Abbe Raynal's fascinating book on the American colonies, resolved to emigrate to America. Before doing so, however, he determined to visit Paris, and had reached Abbeville on his way thither, when, hearing of the de- thi'onement of the King and the massacre of his guards. 36 JAfe of IVilUani Cohhett. he immediately changed his route and traveled towards Havre-de-Grace, which he reached after much difficulty and many interruptions. " He travelled in a caleche," say his sons, "and as the people were at every town looking out for ' aristocrats,' they stopped him so frequently, and the police examined all his things so scrupulously, making him read all his papers in French to them, that he did not reach Havre till the 16th of August." He had left Abbeville on the 11th. He probably on this occasion owed the preservation of his liberty, perhaps of his life, to his knowledge of the French tongue. Arriving in Philadelphia in October, 1792, he soon left that city for Wilmington, on the Delaware, twenty-eight miles from Philadelphia, where he found a number of French emigrants ; and having now a good knowledge of French as well as of his native tongue, he soon found profitable employment as a teacher of English to French- men. He returned, however, in a short time to Philadel- phia, where, according to the testimony of his sons, he earned between four and five hundred pounds a year in teaching English to Frenchmen — a sum which, I imagine, few teachers at the present day earn at the same or a similar occupation. It was at this time that he composed, in the French language, his well-known grammar, " Le Maitre d' Anglais ; " a grammar intended for Frenchmen to learn English. It is a work of sterling value, which I fomid still in use in France in 1862, revue and corrigee by various editors. "What other French grammar can boast of active, vigorous life, after an existence of nearly a hun- dred years ? On coming to America, Cobbett seems to have turned his thoughts towards serving the United States Govern- ment in some capacity ; for he sent to Mr. Jefferson, then Secretary of State in the "Washington Administration, a letter of recommendation from Mr. Adams, who was at that time American Ambassador at the Hague, to whom Ufe aii a 2'eachcr a)id Author. 37 Cobbett had been recommended by a Mr. Short, and re- ceived the following reply : "Philadelphia, Nov. 5, 1792. "Sir, — In acknowledging the receipt of yom- favor of the 2d instant, I wish it were in my power to announce to you any way in which I could be useful to you. Mr. Short's assiu-ances of youi' merit would be a sufficient m- ducement to me. Public offices in our government ai'e so few, and of so little value, as to oifer no resource to tal- ent. ^^Tien you shall have been here some small time, you will be able to judge in what way you can set out with the best prospect of success, and if I can serve you in it, I shall be very hapjDy to do it. " I am, Sir, your very humble Servant, "Thomas Jefferson." I shall have a word to say regarding this letter by and by ; but I cannot help, remarking here, that it seems Cob- bett came to America with such disgust for the govern- ment of his o\\Ti country, at whose hands he had, accord- ing to his own account, received such unfair treatment, and into the corruptions of whose army-system he had had such a close view, that he had made \ip his mind to become a citizen of the United States, and if possible to serve the Eepubhc jander Washington. He almost con- fesses as much in his announcement of prmciples in the opening number of the new paper which he started on his retm-n to England in 1800 : " In the days of youth and ignorance, I was led to believe that co'))ifort,freedo)n avd virtue tcere exclusively the lot of Republicans. A very short trial convinced me of my eiTor, admonished me to repent of my folly, and urged me to compensate for the mjustice of the opinion which I conceived." In 'serving the Republic he wovild, of coui-se, have become an American citizen, and had Mr. Jefferson given him some position in the government, what a different history would have been that of William Cobbett! 38 Life of William Cobbett Cobbett's fii'st production as an author was prompted by certain occurrences on the arrival in America of the celebrated Dr. Priestley, the radical reformer and Uni- tarian philosopher. Priestley had been so roughly handled in England by his own countrymen, that he determined to emigrate to the United States, and on arriving in New York (1793), he was gladly received by a deputation of admirers, who presented him with ad- dresses of welcome. In these addresses and in the reply of Dr. Priestley, such disparaging allusions were made to England and her government, that it roused Cobbett's ire to see an Enghshman treating the government of his own country so disrespectfully, and suffering it to be so disre- spectfully treated by others. Cobbett wi'ote a pamphlet on the affair, entitled " Observations on the Emigration of a Martyr ;" which is a strong attack on Priestley and his doctrines, and in which he contends that the philos- opher had no good reason to complain of the treatment he received, and that the country he left was by no means such a despotism as he represented it. In one of his letters to Mr. Pitt, in 1804, Cobbett gives an account of the raatter ; and it is curious to observe by what an apparently accidental circumstance he became a writer. " It is now, su-, ten years," he says, " since I first took up the pen with an intention to write for the press on political subjects ; and the occasion of my domg so is too curious in itself, as well as of too much importance as to the sequel, not to be described somewhat in detail. At the memorable epoch of Doctor Priestley's emigration to America, I followed, in the city of Phila- delphia, the profession of teacher of the English language 10 Frenchmen. Newspapers were a luxury for which I had little relish, and which, if I had been ever so fond of them, I had not time to enjoy. The manifestoes, there- fore, of the Doctor, upon his landing in that country, and the malicious attacks upon the monarchy and monarch of Life as a Teacher and Author. 39 England, wliich certain societies in America thereupon issued through the press, would, had it not been for a circumstance piu'ely accidental, have escaped, probably forever, not only my animadversion, but my knowledge of their existence. One of my scholars, who was a person that we in England would call a coffee-house poHtieian, chose, for once, to read his newspaper by way of lesson ; and it happened to be the very paper which contained the addresses presented to Doctor Priestley at New York, together with liis replies. My scholar, who was a sort of repubhcan, or, at best, but half a monarchist, appeared dehghted with the invectives against England, to which he was very much disposed to add. Those EngUshmen who have been abroad, particularly if they have had time to make a comparison between the country they are in and that which they left, well know how difficult it is, upon occasions such as I have been describing, to refrain from expressing their indignation and resentment ; and there is not, I trust, much reason to suppose that I should, in this respect, experience less difficulty than another. The dispute was as warm as might reasonably be expected, between a Frenchman, uncommonly violent even for a Frenchman, and an Englishman not remarkable for sang froid; and the result was, a declared resolution, on my part, to write and publish a pamphlet in defense of my country, which pamphlet he pledged himself to ansAver. His pledge was forfeited : it is known that mine was not. " Thus, sir, it was that I became a writer on politics. ' Happy for you,' you Avill say, ' if you had continued at your verbs and your nouns !' Perhaps it would ; but the fact absorbs the reflection : whether it was for my good, or otherwise, I entered on the career of political writing ; and, -without adverting to the circumstances under which others have entered on it, I think it will not be beHeved that the pen was ever taken up from a motive more pure and laudable." 40 Life of Williwn Cobbett. The following fable, directed agaiust the democrats, occurs in this his first pamphlet. Sir Henry Bulwer thinks it recalls the style of S^vift, in the "Tale of a Tub," which work Cobbett admired so much. Mr. Wat- son destroys the whole pith of the fable, and especially that which gives it a resemblance to Swift, by omitting or changing certain words in it which, though coarse, are in no way corrupting : "In a pot-shop, well stocked with wares of all sorts, a discontented, ill-formed pitcher unluckily bore the sway. One day after the mortifying neglect of several customers, ' Gentlemen,' said he, addressing himself to his brown brethren in general, ' Gentlemen, with your permission, Ave are a set of tame fools, without ambition, without coui-age. Condemned to the vilest uses, we suf- fer all without murmuring. Let us dare to declare our- selves, and we shall soon see the difference. That superb ewer, which, like us, is but earth ; those gilded jars, vases, china, and in short, all those elegant nonsenses, mu.st yield to our strength, and give place to owe superior merit.' "This civic harangue was received with peals of ap- plause; and the pitcher, chosen president, became the organ of the assembly. Some, however, more moderate than the rest, attempted to calm the minds of the multi- tude; but all those which are called jordens became in- tractable. Eager to vie with the bowls and cups, they were impatient, almost to madness, to quit then- obscure abodes, to shine upon the table, kiss the hp, and ornament the cupboard. "In vam did a wise water-jug — some say it was a plat- ter — make them a long and serious discoiirse upon the peacefulness of their vocation. 'Those,' he says, 'who are destmed to great employments, are rarely the most happy. We are all of the same clay, it is true ; but he who made us foi^med us for different functions. One is Tlie Political Parties in the United Stateti. 41 for ornament, another is for use. The posts the most im- portant are often the most necessaiy. Our employments ai'e extremely different, and so are our talents.' " This had a wonderful effect. The most stupid began to open theii- ears ; and perhaps it would have succeeded, if a grease-pot had not cried out in a decisive tone, ' You reason hke an ass ; to the devil with you and yoiu* silly lessons !' "Now the scale was tiu*ned again. All the horde of pans, pitchers, and jordens applauded the superior elo- quence and reasoning of the grease-pot. In short, they determined on the enterprise. But a dispute arose who should be chief ; all could command, but none obey. It was then you might have lieai'd a clatter : pots, pans, and pitchers, mugs, jugs, and jordens, all put themselves m motion at once ; and so vnsely and with so much vigor were then* operations conducted, that the whole was soon changed, not into china, but into rubbish.''' This fable is, I think, worthy of a place beside the an- cient fable of the Stomach and the Members of the Body, which Shakespeare, in Coriolanus, causes a patrician to re- peat for the edification of the plebeians, the efore he was offered, by the party whose principles he so finely defended, a seat in Parliament, and subse- quently a place in the ministry — and so he went on. This, you see, is an entu'ely different thing ; it is the re- ward of talent and ability in harmony with principle. Where corruption lies is in the receiving of an office with little or nothing to do, and the whole object of which is to put money in the hands of the incumbent and thus make a pensioner of him — "a slave of state.'" These amiable colleagues of Cobbett's were all of them slaves of state, and of course they came to hate him because he also would not become one. It was with reference to them that he was so fond of quoting Lafontaine's fable of the "Wolf and the Dog." The dog, who is a fine fat fellow, meets a lean and hungry wolf, and invites him to come and live with him at his home, where there is an abundance of fine fat things to be got to eat. The wolf agrees to go home with the dog ; they set off together ; ^'■Porcupiiie'''' Mevived. - 81 but on the way, the Avolf notices a mark on the neck of the dog, and inquii-es what it is. " Oh, that is only the mark of the chain with which my master ties me up some- times," said the dog. " Ties you up ! " exclaimed the wolf; "ties you up! Oh, that wont suit me; I would rather, a thousand times, endui'e my hunger, with liberty, than be tied up with the finest food in the world ! " Let every yotmg man engrave this fable on the tablets of his memory. It applies in more ways than one; to more people than politicians. Every clerk, for instance, who accepts presents from the customers of his employer, becomes the slave of those customers, and the mark of the chain becomes visible, in his featui'es, if not on his neck. Keep yourself free from such things, and you will have a manly and independent ah* and feeling ; become a bribe-taker, and you will feel and act hke a fawning, cringing, creeping cui'. CHAPTEE IV. "porcupine" revived. THE HAWKESBURY AND ADDINGTON LETTERS. In his letter to Mr. Rose, he tells us that it was while dining with Mr. Hammond (then Under Secretary of State for the Foreign Department, in company with Su* William Scott and Lord Hawkesbury (afterwards Lord Liverpool), that he was offered, as a gift, the proprietor- ship of one of two government papers, IVie True Briton and The Sicn. This offer he refused, being convinced, as he said to Mi*. Hammond, that " by keeping himself wholly free, and relying upon his own means, he should be able to give the government much more efficient sup- port than if any species of dependence could be traced to him." To which Mr, Hammond replied, "Well, I must 82 Life of William Cobbett. say that I think you take the honorable course, and I most sincerely wish it ^uay albo be the profitable one." " Now, Ml'. Hammond is ahve," says Cobbett, " and I am sure, if appealed to, will not deny that what I have stated is true;" otherwise I have no doubt Mi-. Watson would have cast suspicion upon Cobbett's assertion in this case, too. "When he began his opj)Osition to Mr. Pitt in 1804, and one of these very papers. The True Briton, dared to style him an Ainerican and a traitor, Cobbett very neatly replied, " Certaui I am that I never gave any provocation, except that of refusing to become brother slave ; a refusal which arose not only from my dislike for the situation itself, but from a conviction, which has since been fully confirmed by observation, that the pen of a slave seldom produces effect." He did not always, how- ever, regard such attacks with equal coolness and good sense ; for, on one occasion, being charged by one of the editors of these papers with sedition, and with instigating the -army and navy to mutiny, he marched straight to the office of the offender, and " in less than three horu's after the libel was published the libeller received personal chas- tisement in the very apartment where he had fabricated the libel." So tells IVIr. Edward Smith; a-'=\ the story simply shows how profoundly some accusations did affect him. Of one thing we may be sure: that in this eii- coumter, as in that with Bache, he, like a true Englishman, used his fists, and not the cowardly Spanish or Italian poniard, or the equally cowardly American pistol. Cobbett established, therefore, a paper of his own, a daily pajDer, which he called by the name he had already made famous. The Porcupine, and in which he maintained monarchical principles, and uttered warnings against the doctrines of democrats and republicans. So it is pretty plain that his interview with Pitt had only increased his ardor for monarchy and its accompaniments. In this enterprise, however, he did not succeed. There is prob- '■'■Porcvplne'''' Revived. 83 ably no undertaking whatever that is more terribly exacting, more uni-elenting in its demands, more arduous and difficult in its duties, than the conducting of a daily newspaper. The requirements of every sort are bormd- less ; the demands on the editor ceaseless and unlimited. " He who has been the proprietor of a daily jpaper for only one month," he says, " wants no Romish priest to describe to him the torments of piu-gatory." Cobbett, no doubt, took the greater part of the burden on his own shoulders ; and although he had been assured that m London talent was so plentiful and assistance so cheap that the undertaking would not be nearly so difficult as in America, he found the requirements, nay, the necessi- ties of a daily paper in London tenfold those of one in Philadelphia. There were so many more interests and classes to be satisfied, so many more matters to be attended to, in order to keep up with his rivals, that the labor was far greater than he had had in Philadelphia, and more than he was able to endure ; so that he soon got tu'ed of it, and gave it up. The palmer was merged into The True Briton. He himself afterwards attributed his failure to his refusal to use corrupt'!^' "Bans to obtain money. He says in the same letter to Mr. Rose: "I could not sell paragraphs. I could not throw out hmts against a man's or woman's reputation in order to bring the party forward to pay me for silence. I could do none of those mean and infamous things by which the daily press, for the greater part, was supported, and which enabled the proprietors to ride in chaiiots, while then- underlings were actually venduag lies by the line and inch." He also refused to accept the advertisements of quack doctors, though he was told that, by so doing, he would lose' five hundi'ed pounds a year. " Li this resolution he may have been influenced by his recollection of what he had sufi'ered from the quack Rush," says Mr. Watson, who could not conceive 84 L\f^ of William Cohbett. of Cobbett's acting from any better motive than hatred of an old enemy. It will, perhaps, occur to the reader's own mind, that the man who acted thus with reference to so large a sum of money, which might have been easily acquu-ed, and who refused the government offer of a whole newspaper as a gift, " with printing-machines and type ready-furnished," is not exactly the sort of man to give up the prosecution of thieves for the sake of a bribe, or to forge letters of recommendation in order to secure a government situation. Cobbett now established in London, in partnership with an Englishman named Morgan, whom he had known in Philadelphia, a bookselling and publishing business. " In this shop," say his sons, " he might have made what for- tune he pleased ; for never was man more favorably cu'- cvunstanced. He had the choicest connection that a tradesman could wish for, and as much of it as would have sated the appetite of the most thrifty man." But Cobbett's chief object was never the acquisition of wealth ; he would rather have a hand in shai^ing his country's destinies than in making the finest fortune in England. He had been too long accustomed to expressing his opinions on public events, to remain contentedly silent now ; so when Pitt resigned, which he did on account of his disagreement with the king concerning Catholic emancipation, Cobbett wrote several letters to the public prints endeavoring to show, while still professing great regard for Pitt, that the king was right and his minister v.-rong ; maintaining that the Catholics would never cease to desire concessions until there was nothing left for them to ask, and that people who believed that the king was doomed to eternal damnation, unless converted to the Catholic Church, should never be entrusted with the functions of legislators or ministers. Let the reader re- member this, when he comes to see what his views were a few years later. And when the Treaty of Amiens was '■'■Porcupine'''' Revived. 85 about to be made, lie wrote a number of brilliant letters, addressed to Lord Hawkesbury and to the new premier Lord Addington, clearly sliowing the one-sidedness of that treaty, the great disadvantages which it presented to the English nation, and the unmense advantages it secvu'ed to the French. These letters are written in such an impres- sive style that Mueller, the Swiss historian, speaks of them as " the most eloquent vsniting since the time of the two great professors of phihppic oratory ; " and a writer in the Encycloi^edia Britannica speaks of them as the most finished of all Cobbett's writings. Cobbett was right too ; for the state of things under that treaty was so unsatis- factory that the Enghsh people formd it impossible to rest satisfied, and in less than a year war was again de- claimed against Bonaparte. It was on account of Cobbett's refusal to illuminate his house, on the occasion of the celebration of the peace of Amiens, that a London mob, led mostly by government employes, attacked and de- mohshed his house, for which offense he had " six of the villains" arrested, of whom thi-ee were tried, convicted, and — fijied a few- pounds ! He now republished his hfe of Tom Paine — whom he at this time branded with all the opprobrious names which his rich vocabulary afforded — and also published an edition of the Collected Works of Peter Porcupine, in twelve volumes. This work was subscribed for by the King, the Prince of Wales, a great number of the higher nobility, and many of the leading men of the time. The volumes consist mostly of his American controversial writings and extracts from Porcupine's Gazette. Cobbett now began to be assailed, by vai'ious London newspapers, for his obstinacy in refusing to illuminate his house ; to which assaults he replied by a satu-e in the manner of Swift, the addi-ess of "An Author to Prince Posterity," in which he lets the world know the by-no- means-flattering opinions of that prince concerning each 86 Life of William Oobhett. of his assailants. He felt, however, that he must have an organ wherein he could express his opinions fully, freely, and regularly concerning public affairs ; so he began his "Weekly Political Kegister," a periodical which, to use his own expressive words, " came up like a gram of mus- tard-seed, and, like a grain of mustard-seed, spread over the whole civilized world;" and which he conducted until his death, in 1835. CHAPTEK V. THE "kegister." HOW NAPOLEON SHOULD BE RECEIVED. Though Cobbett's knowledge was limited, too hmited for such a position as the editor of a periodical devoted to national affairs, he had the essential qualities of a great editor: he was indejaendent-minded and large-hearted, manly, and fearless in the expression of opinion ; he pos- sessed an analytical and searching turn of mind, which, combined with matchless powers of expression, rendered him more than a match for every antagonist. No man ever surpassed him in clearness of statement, in logical analysis of the plans and purposes of jjublic men, in skillful detec- tion and luminous exposure of theu- weak points, or in hearty and powerful commendation of their good ones. Beginning in 1801 with three hundred copies, the circula- tion of the Register rose in 1803 to over four thousand copies (at tenpence a copy), in 1817 to twenty thousand, and occasional issues sonietimes ran as high as thirty and even fifty thousand copies. Some years later he said it brought him an income of £15,000 a year. From this time Cobbett became a power in England; fighting, I might say — especially after his imprisonment in 1809 — against all the world, and all the world against him. The grand trait in his character was his constant and entire Tlxe ''Register:' 87 independence of mind ; for lie never counted the cost or cai-ed for the consequences when he had once made up his mind to pui'sue a certain policy. He continued, in fact, to develop that innate love of fight, 'that dare-devil fondness for attacking the " big guns " and the " great idols " of the day — a characteristic which he no doubt inherited from his sea-roving Saxon ancestors — which he had so recklessly displayed in America.. He began by declaring that he hoped to contribute in some degree to the preserving of "those ancient and holy institutions, those iinsophisticated morals and uatviral manners, that well-tempered love of natural liberty, and that just sense of public honor, on the preservation of which oui- national happiness and independence so essen- tially depend." He mightily aided in rousing the English people to active preparation for a vigorous reception of th'e French in case of the threatened invasion by Bona- parte ; and his articles on the First Consul were so severe and trenchant that the French ambassador in London, M. Otto, was instructed to request the English Govern- ment to have Cobbett prosecuted for libel. The Ministry, however, never meddled with him; and he pretty soon after (July, 1803) showed his sense of gratitude to the government by writing that masterly Address to the People of England, entitled " Important Considerations for the People of this Kingdom," which is set down as one of his best pieces of writing. He showed his country- men that the entu-e responsibihty for the war rested with Bonaparte ; described the appalling consequences should the invading Frenchman be victorious, and pointed out how to make a vigorous resistance against him should he attempt to invade theu' sacred island. I must beg the reader to allow me to quote the first and last paragraphs of this admirable paper, irt order to show him how clearly and forcibly he could state a case, and what a deep impression his words must have made : 88 Life of William Cobbett. "At a moment when we are entering on a scene deeply interesting, not only to tliis nation, but to the whole civil- ized world ; at a moment when we all, without distraction of rank or degree, are called upon to rally round, and to range ourselves beneath the banners of that Sovereign, under whose long, mild, and fostering reign the far greater part of us, capable of bearing arms, have been born and reared up to manhood ; at a moment when we are, by his truly royal and paternal example, incited to make every sacrifice and every exertion in a war, the event of which is to decide whether we are still to enjoy, and to bequeath to oiu' children, the possessions, the comforts, the liber- ties, and the national honors, handed down to us fi-om generation to generation, by our gallant forefathers ; or whether we are, at once, to fall from this favored and honorable station, and to become the miserable crouching slaves, the hewers of wood and the drawers of water, of those very Frenchmen, whom the valor of our fleets and armies has hitherto taught us to despise ; at such a mo- ment, it behooves us, calmly and without dismay, to ex- amine our situation, to consider what are the grounds of the awful contest in which we are engaged ; what ai-e the wishes, the designs, and the pretensions of our enemies; what would be the consequences, if those enemies were to triumph over us ; what are our means, and what ought to be our motives, not only for frustrating their mahcious intentions, but for inflicting just and memorable chastise- ment on their insolent and guilty heads." After describiag the unscrupulous ambition and inso- lent pretensions of Bonaparte, and recountiag the atroci- ties he had committed against other nations, he continues : " On his return from Italy, which he left in a state of beggary and irretrievable ruin, he prepared for the inva- sion of Egypt, a country which was at peace with France, and against the people or the government of which France had no cause of complaint ; but the conquest of this coun- The ''Register:' 89 try was necessaiy in order to open a road to the Indian possessions of Great Britain. In pursuit of tliis object, Bonaparte invaded Egypt, where he repeated his promises to respect reHgion, property, and persons, and where, the more effectually to disguise his purposes, he issued a proclamation, declaring himself and his army to be true Mahometans; and boasting of having made war upon the Chi'istians and destroyed their religion. One of his first deeds after this act of apostacy, was to massacre almost all the inhabitants of the populous city of Alex- andria. ' The people,' sa;fs one of his generals, ' betake themselves to their Prophet, and fill their mosques ; but men and women, old and young, and even babes at the breast, all ai'e massacred!' Some time after this sanguin- ai'y transaction, Bonaparte, having made prisoners of thi-ee thousand eight hundred Turks in the fortress of Jaffa, and wishing to relieve himself from the trouble and expense of guarding and supporting them, ordered them to be marched to an open place, where part of his army fired on them with musketry and grape shot, stabbing and cutting to death the few who escaped the fire, while he himself looked on and rejoiced at the horrid scene. Nor were his cruelties while in Egypt confined to those whom he called his enemies ; for finding his hospitals at Jaffa crowded with sick soldiers, and desking to disen- cmnber himself of them, he ordered one of his physicians to destroy them by poison. The physician refused to obey ; but an apothecary was found, willmg to perpetrate the deed ; opium was mixed with the food, and thus five himdred and eighty Frenchmen perished by the order of the general, under whose flag they had fought ; by the order of that very man, to whose despotic sway the whole French nation now patiently submits. Let them so sub- mit, but let us not think of such shameful, such degrading submission. Let us recollect, that this impious and fero- cious invader was stopped in his career of rapine and 90 Life of William Gobbett. blood by a mere handful of Britons ; and was finally in- duced to desert his troops, and to flee from the land he had invaded at the approach of that gallant British army, by which Egypt was delivered from the most odious and most destructive of all its plagues. This it is for us to recollect, and so recollecting, shame and disgrace upon our heads if we do not resist, if we do not overcome, if we do not chastise this rapacious, this bloody-minded tyrant, who has now marked out our country for subjugation, oiur fields for devastation, our houses for pillage ; and who, ii^ the insolence of his ambitiouj has held us forth to the world as a meek, a feeble, and cowardly race, destined to grace his triumphal car, and to augment the number of his slaves. . . . " Such are the barbarities which have been inflicted on other nations. The recollection of them will never be eff"aced : the melancholy story will be handed down from generation to generation, to the everlasting infamy of the republicans of France, and as an awful warning to all those nations whom they may hereafter attempt to invade. We are one of those nations ; we are the people whom they are now preparing to invade : awful, indeed, is the warning, and, if we despise, tremendous will be the judg- ment. The same generals, the same commissaries, the same officers, the same soldiers, the very same rapacious and sanguinary host, that now hold Holland and Switzer- land in chains, that desolated Egypt, Italy, and Germany, are at this moment preparing to make England, Ireland, ane Scotland the scenes of their atrocities. For some time past, they have had little opportunity to plunder: peace, for a while, has suspended their devastations, and now, like gaunt and himgry wolves, they are looking to- wards the rich pastures of Britain ; already we hear their threatening howl, and if, like sheep, we stand bleating for mercy, neither our innocence nor our timidity will save us from being torn to pieces and devoured. The rob- The ''Eegisterr 91 beries, the bai'barities, the brutalities they have committed in other countries, though at the thought of them the heai't sinks and the blood runs cold, will be mere trifles to what they will commit here, if we suffer them to tri- umph over us. The Swiss and the Suabians were never objects of then- envy; they were never the rivals of Frenchmen, either on the land or on the sea ; they had never disconcerted or checked theii' ambitious projects, never humbled their pride, never defeated either their ai'mies or their fleets. We have been, and we have done all this : they have long entertained against us a hatred engendered by the mixtui-e of envy and of fear ; and they are now about to make a great and desperate effort to gratify this fiu'ious, this unquenchable, this deadly hatred. "WTiat, then, can we expect at their hands ? What ! but torments, even surpassing those which they have inflicted on other nations. They remained but three months in Germany; here they would remain forever; there their extortions and theii- atrocities were, for want of time, con- fined to a part of the people ; here they would be uni- versal: no sort, no part, no particle of property would remain unseized; no man, woman, or child would escape violence of some kind or other. Such of our manufac- tories as are movable they would transport to France, together with the most ingenious of the manufacturers, whose wives and children would be left to starve. Om* ships would follow the same coiu-se, with all the commerce and commercial means of the kingdom. Having stripped us of everything, even to the stoutest of oiu- sons, and the most beautiful of our daughters, over all that re- mained they would establish and exercise a tyi'anny such as the world never before witnessed. All the estates, all the fai'ms, all the mines, all the land and the houses, all the shops and magazines, all the remaining manufactories, and all the workshops, of every kind and description, from the gi-eatest to the smallest ; all these they would 92 Life of William Cohhett. bring over Frenchmen to possess, making us their serv- ants and their laborers. To prevent us from uniting and rising against them, they would crowd every town and village with their brutal soldiers, who would devour all the best part of the produce of the earth, leaving us not half a sufficiency of bread. They would, besides, intro- duce their own bloody laws, with additional severities; they would divide us into separate classes ; hem us up in districts ; cut off all communication between friends and relations, parents and children, which latter they would breed up in their own blasphemous principles ; they would affix badges upon us, mark us in the cheek, shave our heads, split our ears, or clothe us in the habit of slaves ! — ^And shall we submit to misery and degradation like this, rather than encounter the expenses of war ; rather than meet the honorable dangers of military combat; rather than make a generous use of the means which Providence has so bounteously placed in our hands % The sun, in his whole coiu-se round the globe, shines not on a spot so blessed as this great, and now united kingdom. Gay and productive fields and gardens, lofty and exten sive woods, innumerable flocks and herds, rich and inex- haustible mines, a mild and wholesome climate, giving health, activity, and vigor to fourteen millions of people : and shall we, who are thus favored and endowed ; shall we, who are abundantly supplied with ii'on and steel, powder and lead ; shall we, who have a fleet superior to the maritime force of all the world, and who are able to bring two millions of fighting men into the field; shall we yield up this dear and happy land, together with all its liberties and honors, to preserve which our fathers so often dyed the land and the sea with their blood ; shall we thus at once dishonor theii- graves, and stamp -dis- grace and infamy on the brows of ovu' children ; and shall we, too, make this base and dastardly surrender to an enemy whom, within these twelve years, our countrymen The '' Register P 93 have defeated in every quarter of the world! No ; we are not so miserably fallen ; we cannot, in so short a space of time, have become so detestably degenerate ; we have the strength and the will to repel the hostility, to chastise the hisolence of the foe. Mighty, indeed, must be our efforts, but mighty also is the meed. Singly engaged against the tyi'ants of the earth, Britaiu now attracts the eyes and the heai'ts of mankind ; groaning nations look to her for de-- Hverance; justice, hberty, and religion are inscribed on her banners ; her success will be hailed with the shouts of the universe, while tears of admiration and gratitude will bedew the heads of her sons who fall in the glorious contest." Did not the author of the " Battle of Dorking " get a hint or two from this composition? or was the whole poem suggested by it ! This paper was offered to and accepted by the govern- ment, who thought so highly of it that they had a large number of copies printed, at an expense of several thou- sand pounds, and ordered it to be sent to every parish and be read from every Protestant pulpit in the country. Its authorship, like the Letter to the King which Cobbett ■wrote for Queen Caroline, was attributed to various dis- tinguished men in England, and it was not until Cobbett got at variance with the government in 1809 that he de- clared himself the author. The government offered to reward him for it, which reward must have been some- thing handsome ; but Cobbett refused it ; he could serve his country, he said, without reward. Was this a man to accept of bribes and to forge letters'? 94 lAfe of William Cobbett. CHAPTER VI. OAKES AMES's PREDECESSOBS. STUDY OF POLITICAL ECONOMY. Cobbett wrote a great deal on finance and political economy, on the origin, nature, effect, and tlie best means of getting rid of, or rather of enduring or suffering, the National Debt, the great incubus of the English people. It is something he made a special study of, something about which he wrote more intelligently than nine out of ten of those who wrote on the subject. Whether right or wrong, he at least made people understand what he was talking about, which cannot be said of most of those who discussed the subject. And the circumstances which caused him to study this subject, as well as the soin'ces of his information, are sufficently curious to be given in his own words, as narrated by him in one of his Manchester Lectures (1833) : " I cannot adopt a better method of ex- plaining this matter (loan-making) to you, than by describ- ing a transaction by which I was likely to become a loan- monger myself, and which first opened my eyes with regard to this matter. When I came home from America in 1800, 1 was looked upon by the government people as likely to become one of their vigorous partisans. It was the custom, in those glorious days of Pitt and paper, to give to the literary partisans of the government what were called ' shces ' of a loan. For instance : Moses was the loan-monger ; and as the scrip, as it used to be called, was always directly at a premium, a bargain was always made. with the loan-monger that he should admit certain favorites of the government to have certain portions of scrip at the same price that he gave for it. I was offered such a portion of scrip, which, as I was told, would put a hundred or two pounds into my pocket at once. I was frightened at the idea of becoming responsible for the im- Oakes Ames's Predecessors. 95 mense sum upon which this would be the profit. But I soon found that the scrip was never to be shown to me, and I had merely to pocket the amount of the 'premiimi. I refused to have anything to do with the matter, for which I got heai'tily laughed at. But this was of great utility to me ; it opened my eyes with regard to the na- tiu'e of these transactions ; it set me to work to understand all about the debt, the funds, the scrij?, and the stock, and everything belonging to it." This appears very much like the manner in which our own Congressmen were approached in the Credit Mobilier affair. There were experts in this business, it seems, long before Oakes Ames ; and in offering some of the scrip to Cobbett, they, too, no doubt, knew "where it would do most good ; " but, fortunately, Cobbett had too much good sense and uprightness of character to be thus lured into the trap, so skillfully set, and escaped the igno- minious fate of Ames's victims. Poor S. C- ■ ! What a fall was there, my countrymen ! Why did he not come out with it, and say, " Yes, I took it ; here it is ; make the most of it ! " Had he done this, he would have been- cheered by high and low from Maine to California ; for there is more manliness in confessing a fault than there is meanness in the doing of it. After reading the works of Adam Smith and George Chalmers, from which, Cobbett tells us, he was unable to get a clear view of the subject, he went over all the Acts of Parliament connected with the Bank of England from the time of William III. to his own time ; and it was not till the year 1803 that he considered himself sufficiently acquainted with the subject to write on it. In that year he read Thomas Paine's "Decline and Fall of the English System of Finance," and of that work he says : " Here was no bubble ; no mud to obstruct my view ; the stream was clear and strong ; I saw the whole matter in its true hght ; and neither pamphleteers nor speech-makers were. 96 Life of William Cobhett. after that, able to raise a momentary puzzle in my mind." He frequently afterwards speaks iu the highest terms of Paine as a financier. CHAPTEE VII. THE NATIONAL DEBT PITt's WONDERFUL SCHEME TO GET RID OF IT. When we consider that after the peace of Amiens (1802) the national debt amounted to 620 milhon pounds, on which interest at the rate of five per cent, was paid, mak- ing the huge load of thu'ty-one million pounds annually for interest alone ; when we consider that this sum was to be raised by taxation on a population of about ten millions ; that of these ten millions about one million and a quarter were paupers, making an army of cormorants living on the body politic ; that the debt increased, after the battle of Waterloo, to 885 million pounds — the great- est debt ever contracted by any nation — and that, finally, taxes to the amount of forty-four million pounds annu- ally had to be raised to pay the interest ; when we consi- der these facts, we may easily conceive of what imjDortance this subject was in Cobbett's time, and how necessary it was for him to master the subject of political economy. There arose at that time a whole brood of schemers in this science, with whose plans and projects Cobbett had much to do. In fact this period in English history has a strong resemblance to that following the civil war in oiu* own country, when we too began to feel the effects of our huge burden of debt and taxation; when we, too, had our commercial depressions and hai'd times, and a crop of greenbackers and repudiationists, and other false schem- ers, such as the English had. Cobbett began by attack- Tlie National Debt. 97 iiig Pitt's funding-system, wliicli lie showed to be false in pi'inciple and ruinous in practice, and to the application of which he attributed most of the misery that then pre- vailed in the country. Accorduig to the Pitt sinking-fund, the entii'e interest on the national debt had to be paid continuously for about forty-five years before the people were to get any relief from it, or in other words, before they should get any diminution of taxation ! It was to work off the national debt in some forty or fifty years, and all the world applauded it as the wonderful scheme of the heaven-born minister ; but Cobbett showed that the debt kejjt pace with the fund, and that the scheme was there- fore practically useless. " The country gentleman," says Cobbett, who thus graphically describes the effect of the system in a single sentence, " the country gentleman, who wishes and endeavors to live independently upon his estate, is obliged to pay to the government, for the sup- port of the funding-system, so great a portion of the revenue of that estate, that he has not enough left to live upon, in the style in which his ancestors lived; and, in order to support that style, he sells j)art of his patrimony ; once broken into, it goes piece by piece ; his sons become merchant's clerks or East India cadets ; his daughters be- come companions or ladies women to the wives of those in whose service the sons are embarked ; the father, see- ing his end approach, secures a life-annuity for the widow ; some speculator purchases the tottering old mansion; and thus the funding-system swallows up the family." Cobbett advocated a reduction of the interest, or even the absolute non-payment of the interest, as the only means of getting relief. This latter plan, which I believe he subsequently rehnquished, was founded on the princijDle, that it is better that a certain number of individuals suf- fer loss than that the whole nation should sink into misery and starvation. The advocacy of such a princixDle, 5 98 Life of William Cohhett. the unsoimdness of which will the more readily be seen by applying it to a small community, created an immense outcry; he was attacked on every side as a repudiator and the counselor of schemes involving national dishonor ; but he defended himself bravely, and although he was undoubtedly wrong in proposing non-payment of inter- est, he was right in seeking its reduction. However wrong- in principle, he showed himself, in ability and knowl- edge of pohtical economy, more than a match for his op- ponents. As a specimen of how he met his ojDponents in this discussion, I shall quote a single paragraph from an article in answer to an attack on him in a government paper called the Courier : "As a consolation at parting, we are assured that the funding-system, though somewhat feeble, from having been so rapidly drawn upon, is still sound and salutary ! We are told, that the siaking-fund is making rapid ad- vances towards the extinction of the debt, and that the funds should be eased a little by raising the whole, or nearly the whole, of the supplies within a year ! Comf ort- insf assurance! Profound remark! Judicious advice! As to the operation of the sinking-fund, we have seen, that, in the space of twenty years, it has tripled the nom- inal amount of the annual taxes raised upon us on account of debt, and has added in the degree of one half to the real annual amount of the taxes raised upon us on ac- coxmt of debt. This is rapid enough, I think. Does this sagacious politician, this profound political economist, want it to go on faster ? What, then, in the name of all that is shallow and empty, does he want? But the funding- system is to be ' eased; ' and how % By raising the whole, or almost the whole, of the supplies within the year. Does this wise man bear in mind, that, last year, the taxes raised amounted to about £38,000,000, and the ex- penditure to abovit £70,000,000? And if he does, does he besides think it possible to raise by this year's taxes The ''Juverna'' Letters. 99 neai'ly double the amount of the taxes raised last year? Away, away with all such dabblers and dreamers ! Send them to 'Change Alley, or to Bedlam ; but let them not approach even the steps to the Cabinet or the Parlia- ment." CHAPTER VIII. THE "JUVERNa" letters. CoBBETT not only criticised men and measures pretty freely himself, but allowed others who wrote for his paper to do the same. His contributors imitated their chief ; and one of them, unfortunately, or fortunately, as the final result may be judged, imitated him so success- fully as to rouse the ire and call down the vengeance of persons high in power and authority. In the months of November and December, 1803, there appeared in the Reg- ister a number of letters signed " Juverna," in which the writer criticised the officers of the government in Ireland in a sarcastic and somewhat abusive style. He compared the Ii'ish administration to the Trojan horse, "full of greedy speculators and blood-thirsty assassins ;" spoke of the head of the viceroy, Lord Hardwicke, as composed of the same material as the famous horse, and de- clared that, after diligent inquiiy concerning him, he found that " he was in rank an earl, in manners a gen- tleman, in morals a good father and a kind husband, and that he had a good Ubrary in St. James's Squai-e." " Here," he continued, " I should have been forever stopped, if I had not, by accident, met with one Mi*. Lindsay, a Scotch pai'son, since become (and I am sui-e it must have been by divine Providence, for it would be impossible to account for it by secondary means) Bishop of Killaloe, in Ireland. From this Mr. Lindsay, I 100 Life of William Cohhett. farther learned that my Lord Hardwicke was celebrated for understanding the modern method of fattening sheep as well as any man in Cambridgeshire." He also said that the appointment of Lord Hardwicke as viceroy of L-eland was like "putting the surgeon's apprentice to bleed the charity patients ; " a comparison which is said to be quite in the style of Cobbett, and it is indeed not unlikely that his hand added a Uttle pepper to the mess. The govern- ment seemed determined on seciuing a conviction, for they had a great array of talented counsel, consisting of six of the most eminent lawyers, including Perceval, after- wards prime minister, and the celebrated Harry Erskine. The Attorney-General, Sir Vicary Gibbs, characterized " Juverna's " letters as " cool and deliberate endeavors to d-egrade and villify the whole administration of His Ma- jesty's government ia Lreland ; " and Lord Ellenborough, the Judge, declared that "to alienate the affections of a people from a government, by bringing that government, whether by ridicule or obloquy, into disesteem, must be considered as a crime," and that " to sneer at the people of L'eland, as submitting to be governed by a 'wooden head,' must be regarded as an instigation of the Irish to rebellion." Yet how mild "Juverna's" strictures seem compared with the utterances of L-ish writers and L'ish orators at the present day! The ]wcy brought ia a verdict of " Guilty of havmg attempted to subvert the king s authority," and Cobbett was condemned to pay a fine of £500. No sooner was this action concluded than another, founded on the same letters, was begun against him by a different party. The first attempt was so successful that it encouraged this other "aggrieved party" to attempt the same thing. This was Mr. Plrmkett, Solicitor-General for Ireland, who had been the public prosecutor in the famous trial of poor Robert Emmett. " Juverna" accused Plunkett of unnecessary severity in his pleading against The ^^ JuvemcC Jjetters. 101 the prisoner, Emmett, who had made no attempt to de- fend himself against the chai'ge brought against him, which cu'cumstance alone made severity on the part of the prosecutor all the more unnecessary and ungenerous. Enunett's father had been the friend and benefactor of Phmkett, had oft entertained him at his table ; and " Ju- verna '' asserted that he (Plunkett) was probably the very man who had insj)ired young Emmett with the principles which finally brought him to the scaffold. Plunkett is known to have expressed the opinion, for instance, that if the bill uniting Ireland to England became a law, no Irishman was bound to obey it. " If any man could be formd,'' said Juverna, " of whom a young but unhappy victim of the justly offended laws of his country had, in the moment of his conviction and sentence, uttered the following apostrophe : ' That viper, whom my father nomished, he it is whose principles and practice now drag me into my grave ; and he it is who is now brought for- ward as my prosecutor, and who, by an unheard-of exer- cise of the royal prerogative, has wantonly lashed with a speech to evidence the dying son of his former friend, when that dying son had produced no evidence, had made no defence, but on the contrary acknowledged the charge and submitted to his fate' — if these words had been uttered in the presence of Lord Kenyon, he would have tmrned with horror from such a scene, in which, if guilt were in one part punished, justice was in the whole di'ama confounded, humanity outraged, and loyalty insult- ed.' The case was tried before the same judge and jui-y, and the latter, after considermg the matter for a few minutes, awarded the same amount of damages as in the former case, £500. The writer of these letters was IMr. Johnson, an Iiish barrister, afterwards a judge; and he having declared himself the author, Cobbett was relieved from those heavy fines, which, says ]\Ir. Watson, were either paid by Mr. 102 Life of William Cobhett. Johnson or not paid at all. Cobbett remained silent con- cerning these trials ; he never said anything about them ; but they left a deep impression on his mind, all the deeper on account of his silence ; an impression which eventually worked a great change in his views concerning the liberty of the British subject and the character of the British government. It was the first time that his loyal notions about British liberty of speech were seriously shaken. " He did not recognize in these proceedings," says Sir Henry L. Bulwer, in his excellent httle work entitled His- torical Characters, "the beauties of the British Constitu- tion, nor the impartial justice which, he had always maintained when in America, was to be found in loyal old England. He did not see why his respect for his sove- reign prevented him from saying or letting it be said that a Lord Lieutenant of Ireland was a very ordinary man, nor that a Solicitor-General of Ireland had made a very cruel and ungenerous speech, where the facts thus stated were perfectly true. The Tory leaders had done nothing to gain him as a partisan ; they had done much that jarred with his general notions on politics, and finally they treated him as a pohtical foe. The insult — for such he deemed it — was received with a grim smile of defiance, and grievous was the loss which Conservative opinions sustained when those who represented them di'ove the most powerful controversialist of his day into the op- posite ranks." Pitt and his Policy. 103 CHAPTEK IX. PITT AND HIS POLICY. In the same year (1804), Cobbett addressed a series of Letters to Mr. Pitt, wlio liad again become prime minis- ter, in which he maiatained that that minister had de- parted from the principles he formerly contended for ; that he had failed to make good his pledges to the nation ; that he had succumbed to France and consented to con- ditions that were humiliating and ruinous to England ; that as far as he (Cobbett) was concerned, it was the gen- eral that deserted his army ; not the soldier that deserted his general ; that all his former aims had been abandoned, and all his promises falsified. "I was deceived," says Cobbett, "by yoin- statements of 1799, to say nothing about the more elaborate statements of your Secretary, Mr. Rose, whose official pamphlet came forth to aid the deception. I believed you, when you so confidently and so solemnly declared, that 'the war might be carried on for any length of time without the creation of new debt,' and that ' it would not be difficult to provide taxes for eight years ;' and though I saw you, in two years af ter- wai'ds, make a peace, in which not only all your avowed objects of the war were abandoned, but by which the ancient honors of the country were surrendered ; though I saw the balance of Eiu'ope completely overset ; though the enemy seized state upon state even during the nego- tiations ; and though I clearly saw and explicitly foretold that England herself would be exposed to that constant and imminent danger, of which every man is now feelingly sensible ; ia spite of all this, was I still to adhere to you, still to extol you, on pain of beiag stigmatized as a politi- cal deserter? Will any one, even in the purlieus of Downing Street and "Whitehall, attempt to maintain a 104 Life of William Cobbett. proposition so repugnant to reason? Because you, either from choice or necessity; impelled either by your interest, your ambition, or the consequences of your errors, changed your coui-se in politics, throwing aside all the principles which had induced me to follow you, was I bound to change too ? Is the mere oiame of Pitt (for there was ht- tle else left) sufficient to compensate for the absence of everything that we deshe to find in a minister? ... Is there any one who will pretend, that you are not only so great as to have a right to abandon your principles, with- out exposing yoiu-self to censiu-e, but to render it a duty in others, to abandon theirs for the sake of yielding you support? Is there any one who will venture to urge a pretension so offensive, so insulting to the feelings of the world? And if not, if it be not insisted that every man who once supports a principle of yours becomes by that act solely yom' bondsman for hfe, then I think, if deser- tion be a proper word to employ, it will be allowed, that I did not desert you, but that you deserted me." Cobbett's subsequent writings show, as clear as day- light, that Pitt's system of government impoverished and demoralized the English people to an unparalleled extent. Although Pitt began his career with a project of reform, he became alarmed after the French Kevolution, and inau- gurated a policy the reverse of all that was hberal, con- stitutional and wise. His grand blunder was the refusing of Napoleon's offer of peace in 1799, and beginning that series of wars and alhances against France, which finally ended, after his death, in the overthrow of Napoleon, but in the almost total ruin of the English people. He found England gold and he left it paper ; he found England's debt 250 milhons, and he left it over 600 milhons; he foimd England's destitute poor 1 in 18 of the population, and he left them 1 in 7. He doubled the number of par- ish paupers, tripled the number of tax-gatherers, tripled tenfold the number of bank-notes, and banished specie J^itt and his Policy. 105 out of the kingdom ; lie more than tripled the pension- list in number of names as well as in amount of pensions; he made grants and pensions of more than half a million a year to his supporters and their kinsfolk; he maintained swai'ms of spies and informers, especially in Ireland ; he effaced the lilies and yielded the honor of his country's flag in his negotiations with France ; and finally, notwith- standing all his combinations and alliances agaiast her, he could not prevent the power of France from breaking through all boiuids, and extending itself over every part of Europe. Furthermore he loaned to two contractors, members of Parliament, £40,000 of the pubhc money, vnthout interest, in order to secure theu' votes ; and he defended his friend and supporter, Lord Melville, when ai'raigned in the House of Commons for corruption, main- taining that he was guilty of no delinquency, though it was PEOVED that by the malversation of his lordship and his secretary the coTintry had suffered a loss of several MILLIONS. "He was a great talker^'' says Cobbett, in his letter to Sir Robert Peel, "a man of showy but shallow parts ; an impudent and dextrous declaimer ; a man always capable to give reasons sufficient to keep his adherents in countenance in doing acts of injustice and folly. But nothing did he ever understand with regard to the well- governing of a country. He did not see the tendency of his schemes and efforts. He was short-sighted in the extreme. He appeared to possess not the smallest degree of profundity. He never dipped beneath the surface of things; but lived along from expedient to expedient. And he at last died, leaving bad to become daily worse and worse." If the vast sums raised by Pitt for armaments and fleets and subsidies of foreign nations were needed for the defence of the liberty, the independence of Britain, or even for the protection of British interests, he would have been justified in what he did ; but they were not ; 5* 106 Life of William Cohhett. they were expended in foreign wars and foreign alliances whose expediency was more than doubtful ; the resources of England were di-ained in the vain and useless support of legitimate monarchy; in the vain and useless endeavor to suppress that parvenu, Napoleon, whom the narrow- miaded George III. could not abide; to dethrone the man with whose nephew England subsequently formed a union of arms and of interests ; with whose nephew Eng- land's queen associated on equal terms, whom she received into her halls and home with kisses and compliments. Such was Pitt's poHcy, a policy which bequeathed to Eng- land burdens under which she has been staggering ever since, and of which she will probably never get rid.* Cobbett had seen with his own eyes the wide-spread suffering and degradation caused by the false poHcy of this minister, and he could not help expressing his con- demnation of him in a vehement and unrestrained manner. The distance of time renders the view clearer ; Pitt is now no longer regarded as " the Heaven-born minister " whose policy displayed the highest wisdom of man ; and for this very reason all the more honor is due to the man who had the sagacity to perceive and the courage to ex- pose his fallacies at a time when every body else regarded him as almost superhuman in statesmanlike qualities. * Leigh Hunt, in Ms Autobiography, thus sums up the history of Pitt's policy : "A coalition and a tergiversation alternately ; now a speech and a fight against Bonaparte, who beat them ; then a speech and a fight against England, who bought them off ; then, again, a speech and a fight against Bonaparte, who beat them again; and then, again, as before, a speech and a fight against England, who again bought them off. Meanwhile the allies took every thing they could get, whether from enemy or friend, seizing with no less greediness whatever bits of territory Bonaparte threw to them for their meanness, then pocketing the millions of Pitt, for whicJi we are paying to this day." Happy Years. 107 CHAPTEE X. HAPPY YEARS. MISS MITFOKd's PLEASING DESCRIPTION. CoBBETT was now established on liis farm near Botley, a village about five miles from Southampton, and sixty- eight from London. Here he had bought an estate, on which he hved the life of an English coimtry gentleman ; happy himself, and spreading happiness all around him ; and here he spent the years between 1805 and 1809, which seem to have been the very happiest of his life. Prosper- ous in his business, and having a trusty man in London as managing editor of the Register and his various other printing enterprises, he passed most of his time on his farm, and devoted himself with great ardor and enthusi- asm to all the sports and pleasures of country life. He not only had a great deal to do with the planting of American trees, and American corn, and the improving of his farm in various ways, but devoted a good deal of at- tention to coursing, fishing, single-stick exercise, and box- ing-matches. Miss ]\Iitford, who became acquainted with him about this time, gives, in her Recollections of a Liter- ary Life, a very pleasing pictui'e of his house, his family, and his manner of hving at this time : " Sporting, not politics, had brought about our present visit and subsequent intimacy. We had become acquainted with Mr. Cobbett two or three years before, at this very house, where we were now driving to meet an acquaintance of my father's. For my father, a great sportsman, had met him while on a cotu'sing expedition near Alton ; had given him a greyhound that he had fallen in love with ; had invited him to attend another com'sing meeting near oiu' own house in Berkshire ; and finally, we were now, in the early autumn, with all manner of pointers, and setters, 108 Life of Williain Cobbett. and greyhounds, and spaniels, shooting ponies, and gun- cases, paying the retui^n visit to him. " He had at that time a large house at Botley, with a lawn and gardens sweeping down to the Bursledon Eiver, which divided IVIr. Cobbett's territories from the beautiful grounds of the old friend with whom we had been origi- nally staying, the great 'Squire of the place. His own house, — large, high, massive, red, and. square, and perched on a considerable eminence, — always struck me as being not unlike its proprietor. It was filled at that time almost to overflowing. Lord Cochrane was there, then in the very height of his war-like fame, and as unlike the com- mon notion of a warrior as could be. A gentle, quiet, mild young man, was this burner of French fleets and cutter-out of Spanish vessels, as one might see in a sum- mer-day. He lay about under the trees, reading Selden on the Dominion of the Seas, and letting the children (and children always know with whom they may take liberties) play all sorts of tricks with him at their pleasure. His ship's surgeon was also a visitor, and a young midship- man, and sometimes an elderly lieutenant, and a New- foundland dog; fine sailor-like creatm-es all.* Then there *Lord Cochrane, whose history is a very remarkable one, was one of the noblest of all Cobbett's friends — a man of perfectly sim- ple, guileless, open, candid disposition, without any worldly wis- dom, but uncommonly fearless and skillful as a commander. Singularly enough, he was destined to undergo an experience sim- ilar to Cobbett's, only far worse ; and I am inclined to think that this sad experience, the result of an unjust sentence, was, like Cobbett's, owing far more to his liberal political opinions than to any other cause. He was, in 1813, accused of being an accom^plice in the Berenger frauds, by which the price of the funds was raised, on the report that a stafE-officer had come in haste from the allied armies in France with the news of Napoleon's defeat and death. He was tried by a court presided over by Lord Ellenborough — the same judge, or one of the judges, that condemned Cobbett to a fine of £1,000 and an imprisonment of two years in Newgate — Happy Years. 109 was a very learned clergyman, a great friend of Mr. Gif- ford, of the 'Quarterly,' with his wife and daughter — exceedingly clever persons. Two literary gentlemen from London, and ourselves, completed the actual party; but there was a lai'ge fluctuating series of guests for the hour, or guests for the day, of almost all ranks and descriptions, from the earl and his countess to the farmer and his dame. whose summing-up was notoriously unfair in tliis as in otlier cases. Lord Cochrane was condemned to pay a fine of one thousand pounds, to be imprisoned for one year, and to be exposed for two hours with another of tlie accused on tlie pillory in front of the Royal Exchange. His colleague in Parliament, Sir Francis Bur- dett, declared that if this last were done, he would stand with him on the pillory. Fearing a riot among the people, — who sympa- thized strongly with Lord Cochrane, and who, wiser than his judges, felt that he was innocent of the charge brought against him, — the government remitted this part of the penalty. The im- prisonment, however, he underwent, and the fine he paid. The Bank of England retains to this day the one-thousand-pound note by which he paid his fine, on the back of which he wrote a sen- tence to the effect that he paid it under protest, and because, in his imprisonment, his health was failing (for he would never have been released until he paid the fine), and because he hoped, on regaining his liberty, to redeem his name from the stain which now rested on it. A penny subsci'iption was opened to reimburse him for the amount of the fine, and long before the closing of the sub- scription-books the thousand pounds were raised. Not being able, on his release, to secure any employment from the government of las own country, he took service under the Chilian and Brazilian flags, 1821, and showed such marvelous daring and matchless skill in his effo.rts to free those peoples from the Spanish and the Portu- guese yoke, that he defeated the Spaniards and the Portuguese in nearly every encounter, and earned the appellation of El Diablo (the Devil) from his enemies. Returning to England, he suc- ceeded, with the aid of his devoted and faithful wife, in proving his innocence and causing the unjust sentence passed on him to be revoked or annulled. In 1832 he was restored to his position in the navy, and finally gazetted as rear-admiral. Dying in 1860, he was buried in Westminster Abbey, one of the most honored men in the kingdom. 110 Life of William Cobhett. The house had room for all, and the heart of the owner would have had room for three times the number. "I never saw hospitality more genuine, more simple, or more thoroughly successful in the great end of hospitality, the putting of every body completely at his ease. There was not the slightest attempt at finery, or display, or gen- tility. They called it a fai^m-house, and everything was in accordance with the lai-gest idea of a great English yeoman of the olden time. " Everything was excellent,-^everything abundant, — all served with the greatest nicety by trim waiting-damsels^ and everything went on with such quiet regularity, that of the large circle of g-uests not one could find himself in the way. I need not say a word more in praise of the good wife, to whom this admirable order was mainly due. She was a sweet motherly woman, realizing our notion of one of Scott's most charming characters, Ailie Dinmont, in her simplicity, her kindness, and her devotion to her husband and her children. "At this time, Cobbett was at the height of his politi- cal reputation ; but of politics we heard little, and should, I think, have heard nothing, but for an occasional red-hot patriot, who would introduce the subject, which our host would fain put aside, and get rid of as speedily as possi- ble. There was something of Dandle, Dinmont about him, with his unfailing good humor and good spirits ; his heartiness ; his love of field-sports ; and his liking for a foray. He was a tall, stout man, fail*, and sunburnt, with a bright smile, and an air compounded of the soldier and the farmer, to which his habit of wearing an eternal red waistcoat contributed not a little. He was, I think, the most athletic and vigorous person that I have ever known. Nothing could tire him. At five in the morning, he would begin his active day by mowing his own lawn, beating his gardener, Eobinson, — the best mower, except himself, in the parish, — at that fatiguing work. Happy Years. Ill " For early rising, indeed, lie had an absolute passion ; and some of the poetry that we trace m his writings, whenever he speaks of scenery or of rural objects, broke out in this method of training his children into his own matutinal habits. The boy who was first down stairs was called the Lark for the day, and had, among other indul- gences, the pretty privilege of making his mother's nose- gay, and that of any lady visitors. Nor was this the only trace of poetical feeling he displayed. Whenever he de- scribed a place, were it only to say where such a covey lay, or such a hare was found sitting, you could see it ; so graphic, so vivid, so true was the picture. He showed the same taste in the piu'chase of his beautiful farm at Botley, Fairthom ; even in the pretty name. To be sure, he did not give the name ; but I always thought that it uncon- sciously influenced his choice in the purchase. The beauty of the situation certainly did. The fields lay along the Bm-sledon River, and might have been shown to a for- eigner as a specimen of the richest and loveliest English scenery. In the cultivation of his garden, too, he dis- played the same taste. Few persons excelled him in the management of vegetables, fruit, and flowers. His green Indian corn ; his Carolina beans ; his water-melons, could hardly have been excelled even in New York. His wall- fruit was equally splendid, and much as flowers have been studied since that day, I never saw a more glowing or a more fragrant autumn garden, than that at Botley, with its pyi-amids of hollyhocks, and its masses of chma-asters, of cloves, of mignonette, and of vaiiegated geraniums. The chances of life soon parted us — as, without grave fault on either side, joeople do lose sight of one another, — but I shall always look back with pleasure and regret to that visit. "While we were there, a grand display of English games, especially of single-stick and wresthng, took place under Mr. Cobbett's auspices. Players came from all 112 Life of William Cohhett. parts of the country, — the south, the west, the north, — ■ to contend for fame and g'lory, and also, I beheve, for a well-filled purse. What a sore and bitter thmg it must have been for Cobbett to be torn from this bright, cheer- ful, happy, healthy home, and cast among felons into a dark, close, and thick- walled prison ! How true it is that it is not good for us to know the future, for this would destroy all our enjoyment of the present." CHAPTEE XI. COBBETT AND DOCTOR MITFOED. Miss Mitford's father. Dr. Mitford, who is described by Mr. Home as a "jovial, stick-at-nothing, fox-hunting squire of the three-bottle class," and by his daughter as " the handsomest and cheerfulest of men," seems to have become an intimate friend of Cobbett's. The two men had much in common ; for the doctor, like Cobbett, was a man of plain, blunt, generous nature, a liberal in politics, loved by children and women, and j)assionately fond of country-sports. Had he stuck to such men as Cobbett, and to such sports as he and Cobbett loved, he would never have come to the pitiable plight which subsequently was his fate — dependent for a subsistence, after losing a fortune of £70,000, on the hard-won literary earnings of his daughter. He had fallen into the hands of aristo- cratic sharpers and gamblers in London, who found no difficulty in fleecing a man of such easy, open, and con- fiding natiu'e. There are some very ciu-ious and characteristic passages in Cobbett's letters to the doctor, recently 23ublished in " Miss Mitford's Friendships," edited by Mr. L'Estrange. They show that his amusements and pursuits at this time were anything but literary, for he seems to have given his IIwppii Years. 113 whole heart and soul to farming aud country sports. He was now at flood-tids in the very kind of life he loved. His letters are full of tree-planting, hare-coursing, and dog-breeding, and he almost forbids the doctor to say anything about politics at all. In the first letter (Novem- ber, 1807), he describes himself as stopping in the rain, and climbing up an ash-tree, "with the aid of the par- . son's ladder," in order to obtain some seeds of the tree. In the next (December, 1807) occiu'S this very characteristic passage : " Give me some news about dogs. D ^n poli- tics ! Is Snip with pup yet ? A matter of far more im- portance than whether the Prince of Asturias be hanged or not ; or whether his silly father be in a madhouse ; or what grenadier is the gallant of his old punk of a mother. "VVe ai'e well set to work, truly, to pester our brains about these rogues ! It matters not a straw to us whether Na- poleon hang them all, or send them a-begging. And as to our fellows at Whitehall and Westminster, we shall be sure to do right if we hate them all. . . . When I write you about dogs (which are always the main sub- ject) I will send you some seeds by way of episode." Some months later, he writes in a postscript : " I am flattered by what you say about my lyuhllc letter. Nothing was ever more read, I believe; and I am not without hope that it will produce some effect. I may be a very illiterate fellow ; but I certainly am more than a match for all those pretenders to learning and philosophy. There is a damned cant in vogue, which, when attacked by plain sense and reason, discovers its weakness." The following passage, written in October, 1808, is in his best, bold style: "The king's answer to the addi-ess of the Londoners is the inost insolent thing of the kind that any king of England ever did. But do they not de- serve it? Ay, that they do. He has three hundi-ed thousand red-coats to keep us down. Why should such a king be at all delicate ? As long as the Londoners flat- 114 Life of Williaiu Cobbett. tered him, it was all very well ; but the moment they at- tempted to advise, they got a snap. Well, we deserve it, and ten thousand times more at his hands. The nation is a base, rascally crew, and he knows it. Has he not three million [£3,000,000] of droits of admu-alty now in his pouch ? Has he not done act upon act that I need not point out to you '? Is he not exempted from the mcome tax? Well, then, who can blame him? Snails should be trod upon. Smash them, old fellow, for they deserve it all. Ay, and they will love you the better, too. Oh what a base and degenerate nation ! Do you feel any anxiety about the result of this war for Ferdinand? I do not, and do not care which way it goes. . . . We are spending our money and our blood for the old race of kings against the people. We deserve to be treated like dogs, and like dogs we are treated." What a commentary on royalty it is, that such an igno- rant, incapable, and narrow-minded man as George III. should, for sixty years, have been allowed to rule over the vast British empire ! According to Buckle, he had not a glimpse of one of the sciences, knew no more of the French people than of the people of Kamtchatka, and had hardly the abihty of one of the lowf st clerks of his gov- ernment. And although sui-rounded by the most brilliant constellation of orators, writers, and statesmen, his every step was wrong, and he did more to ruin the nation than any of his predecessors. Why should such a man be the ruler of a great nation? Here is a passage displaying, in the hopes of a fond fa- ther, the kindly side of his nature : "'James always hears what you say of him, and always spreads your fame among those who do not know you, and to whom he prat- tles. As far as I can now judge, he will be just such an- other fellow as myself ; and, were it not too much to indulge the hope, I would fain flatter myself that he will cause the Begister to live when the first author of it shall miagle Moyal Beggars. 115 with his native dust. As we proceed in life, the objects of oui" pursuits and oiu* enjoyments change ; the change proceeds as we proceed toward the gi'ave ; and even in oiu' last moments, there is, in general, something to com- fort us. Yet do the mass of mankind talk of the Author of this wise scheme as if He were no better and no gi-eater than a pai'tial politician. Poor James has led me into this digression; he is now at the other end of the table, mak- ing scratches upon p^:«r, which he calls ^^awing,' quite unconscious." Unfortunately, Cobbett was separated from Dr. Mitford thi'ough some trouble arising with a thii'd party. Mr. L'Es- trange says that " a dispute between Mr. Cobbett and an- other gentleman, in which Dr. Mitford became involved, sepai-ated the famiUes. Miss Mitford, nevertheless, con- tinued to admire his talents, though admitting his vio- lence, and spoke highly of his endearing domestic qualities. 'Milder thoughts attend him,' she writes; 'he has my good Avdshes, and so have his family, who were, and I dare say are, very amiable, pai-ticularly his very plain, but very clever and very charming, eldest daughter.' " Mr. L'Es- trange informs us that this lady, IMiss Ann Cobbett, is still alive ; yet I remember reading, more than a year ago, a report of her death. CHAPTER XII. KOYAL BEGGAES. TBIAL OF THE DUKE OF YORK. Cobbett now began to side with men of an entirely dif- ferent stamp from those he formerly sided with ; it was not enough for him to ttu-n from Tories to Whigs, bvit from Tories to Radicals ; for he seldom took a middle path in anythmg he ever did. He became the coadjutor of Major Cart-svi'ight, Mi-. Henry Hunt, Lord Cochrane, and Sii' Francis Burdett ; all of whom sought a radical reform 116 Life of William Cohbett. in parliamentary representation. And when the king sent a message to the House of Commons, requesting an increase of the incomes of the junior members of his family, Cobbett came out with an article in the Register which at once showed the world where he stood. He ex- pressed indignation at the request of the king, which request would, he said, if granted, add to the incomes- of the royal fami^ — all of whom, besides their pensions, held posts and preferments from which they derived con- siderable salaries — -the sum of £51,000 a year, which would have to be raised by increasing the burdens of the people, who were already nearly crushed to earth with taxes of every description; and he very pertinently ob- served that it was not customary for a rich man to ask the parish to provide for his offspring. The English people, however, stiu'dy as they are in maintaining their rights in other resjpects, never hesitate **• to let their princes, whenever they want money, thrust their hands deep down into the public purse, and take what they please. "We have seen this often repeated since Cobbett's time ; and although strong remonstrances have frequently been made against increasing the heavy buixlen of taxation by adding thousands of pounds to the already large incomes of the childi'en of an enormously rich queen, it is, nevertheless, invariably done. It is a curious trait in the character of the English people, that when tens of thousands of the common people are straining e /ery nerve in order to live, when trade is crushed, when the land swarms with beggars and paupers, when the most abject poverty stares them in the face wherever they turn, their representatives in Parhament unhesitatingly vote an addition of thousands of pounds to the incomes of their princes. One would think these princes would be ashamed to add to the burdens of the people, and that they would rather try, by renouncing part of then' in- comes and endeavoring to earn a living for themselves, to Tioyal Beggars. 117 alleviate tlian to aggravate these burdens. Why should not princes learn to work and earn a livelihood as ,well as other peoj)le? "What on earth have they done, that working people should give their earnings to suj)j)ort them? Is not theii- inability to support themselves a proof of their worthlessness ? Can there be anything more senseless than for a people to take one family out of a milHon, and feed and fatten, pet and pamper its members until they are ready to bui'st, and then fall down on theii" bellies and worship them ? Another circumstance connected with a member of the royal family soon gave him occasion for still more annoy- ing observations ; a circumstance regarding which he ex- pressed the plain blunt sense of the English people in an unbearably pertinent and forcible manner. In fact, these observations were the primary cause, as we shall presently see, of the prosecution that was shortly afterwards begmi against him, and of the severe punishment with which he was visited. But before relating this circumstance, I must state, that when the above proposition of an addition to the incomes of the members of the royal family was brought be- fore Parliament, and when one of the noble lords proposed an addition of £1,000 a year to the income of each of the members of the royal family, the Duke of York, one of the sons of the king, professed unwilHngness to receive from the people such an addition to his income, no doubt wishing it to be understood that he was too sensible of the weight of then* present bui-dens to wish to add any- thing to them ; but the truth was that he did not dare to accept of such an addition, lest some member, opposed to such grants, might draw attention to an item on the credit side of the civil list, in the following words : " By amount of sums advanced to his Royal Highness the Duke of York, to be paid by instalments of £1,000 quar- terly, £54,000 17s. 6d.;" none of which instalments, says ]Mi-. Watson, had, in all likeliliood, been paid. 118 ^{A ^f Willimn Cohhett. It was concerning the conduct of this Duke of York, whc^was at this time Commander-in-Chief of the army, and consequently in rank and station one of the greatest personages in the kingdom, that in 1809 a Parhamentary inquiry was made. This inquuy disclosed the astonish- ing fact that promotions, appomtments, and exchanges in the army were procured through the duke's mistress, — a certain Mrs. Clarke, whom he had finally discarded, — at reduced prices, ranging from £200 all the way up to £900, and that the proceeds were used by her in keeping up the duke's establishment in Gloucester Place. And here I may mention that the purchase system, which ex- isted in the British army till within a few years ago, was limited to the infantry and cavalry, and that the legiti- mate prices of commissions, in the Life Guards for in- stance, were in 1868 as follows: Lieutenant-Colonel, £7,250; Major, £5,350; Captain, £3,500; Lieutenant, £1,785; Cornet, £1,260. In the Foot Guards the prices were considerably higher, and in some of the line regi- ments not so high.* The motion for the inquiry was made by Mr. Wardle — a brave and talented gentleman, who came into the House of Commons for the first time, and who was threatened with all manner of dire consequences should he persist in his design of making such an inquiry — and seconded by Sir Francis Burdett, Cobbett's new friend. The trial lasted nearly two months ; the charges were proved be- yond a doubt; and yet, so strong is the reverence the English have for a prince of the blood, the delinquent was neither convicted nor dismissed. The speeches made in the duke's favor, and the arguments used to save him from dismissal and disgrace, are rare specimens of syco- phancy and cowardice, even Canning shuffling and twist- ing in a shameful manner, for fear of offending his royal * Chambers's Encyclopedia, article Army Commissions. "Royal Beggars. 119 master, the dulse's father. An addi-ess of the Commons to the king, announcing then* behef in the guilt of the duke, and requesting his removal from his high position in the army, was, on motion, lost ; but he was compelled, by the loud voice of public opinion, boldly and plainly expressed by Cobbett and other writers who thovight like him, to resign his position, and thus the main object of the inquu-y was attained. However, he was, some time afterwards, reinstated. Cobbett's comments on the trial, from week to week, are remai'kably calm, decorous, and impartial — qualities which he by no means always displayed. His observa- tions are so striking, his examination of the speeches and the evidence so searching and severe, his interpretation of the significance of the whole transaction so just and comprehensive, that the w^hole story acquires a luminous and fascinating character in his hands, and reads like one of the best chapters in Macaulay's history. I shall, perhaps, by and by, when we have gone over the events of Mr. Cobbett's life, and can more leisurely examine the character of his writings, give some extracts from these observations ; yet I think it necessary to pre- sent one single passage here, in order that the reader may understand how Cobbett created, by his fearless pen, a strong feeling of enmity against him among persons high in authority : "It was again, in this dfebate, urged, that the duke, after the intended reproof, would reform. . . . The idea of a hope of reformation does indeed harmonize per- fectly with all the talk about the dulce's being imposed iipon' about his having fallen into the snares of an art- ful woman ; about his being infatuated by her ; and about his being bUnded by the excess of his passion for her. The passion was not, however, so excessive as to prevent him from castmg her off; aye, and that, too, without pay- ing her the promised pension, without redeeming her 120 Life of William Cobhett. body from imminent danger of a jail, in about seven months after lie had vowed everlasting love to her ; nor was it so excessive as to prevent Taylor from carrying a message to her (said to be from the duke) thi'eatening her with the pillory or the Bastille. But how stand the facts, as to the probability of his being imposed upon by this ar^/'^fZ woman? To read these speeches [of the friends of the duke in Parliament] expressing confident hopes of amendment ; to read the whining, snivelling expressions of sorrow for the existence of the coiniection, which had led to these disclosui"es ; which had led to this exjDosure ; which had led to this what Mr. Perceval calls cahmmy on the duke ; to read these, who, that was unacquainted with the real state of the case, would not suppose Mi*s. Clarke to be another Millwood, and the duke another Barnwell'? Who would not suppose him to be a youth of seventeen or eighteen years of age % An infant at law ? A mere chicken % Who would suppose him to be nearly forty-six years of age, and to have been a m,arried man for about twenty years? The duke is three years older than I am ; and he is two years older than a brother of mine who has been a grandfather these two or three years past ; while Mi'S. Clarke, the artful Mrs. Clarke, is now, I believe, little more than thirty years of age. It may be that the race of royalty, like trees and plants of the superior kind, requii'e more time to bring them to matvu'ity ; but then, let it be observed, that the duke has had the command of the army for twelve or thnteen years past, and that the argument of superior kind cuts deeper against him than for him. If J^were, at my age, to set up a defence upon the ground of infatuation, of being blinded by the passion of love, would not the world laugh in my face? Would they not hoot me off? Would they not turn up then- noses and the palms of their hands against me? " As to the confidence which Mr. Perceval expressed in Moyal Beggars. 121 the close of his addi'ess, ' that his royal highness would keep in view the uniformly virtuous and exe)tiplary conduct of his Majesty, since the commencement of his reign;' not knowing anything personally of the conduct here spoken of, I do not pretend to offer any opinion with respect to the general power and tendency of that example, upon the efficacy of which Mi-. Perceval seems to place so much reliance ; but taking it for granted that the exam- ple is what ]Mi'. Perceval described it to be, it can have escaped no one, that the duke has had this examj^le be- fore him for the last forty-six years / and, whether it is likely that the example will now begin its operation upon him, is a question that I readily leave to the reader. "Before I quit this part of the subject, I cannot sup- press the regret that I feel at perceiving that amongst many people, and those too who ought to know better, the duke is thought worse of for keeping a mistress than for any other joart of the conduct imputed to him. This argues a most miserable, unmanly, pitiful way of think- ing ; it argues that we are, as a correspondent expresses himself, ' a dwai'f ed nation ; ' that our vii'tues, as well as our vices, are all diminutive. Not that I would justify, or excuse, or palliate the conduct of an adulterer, and one, too, whose example was likely to have so mischievous an effect ; but this vice, great as it is under any circum- stances, and especially under such circumstances, sinks out of sight, it becomes not worthy of notice, when com- pared to the smallest of the acts of corruption, of low villainous, dirty corruption, that have been, with what truth the reader will judge, imputed to the Duke of York." The Tory government of the day would, no doubt, have liked nothing better than immediately to make Cobbett feel their resentment for his temerity in venturing to criticise the conduct of so high a personage in such an unbearably disagreeable manner ; but as the case was of 6 122 Life of WilUaui Gohbett. such a scandalous nature, and pei'sonally affecting the royal family, they were anxious that it should sink speedily into obhvion ; so they did not dare to meddle with him at this time ; they were waiting for a more con- venient season, for some other offence for which they could more safely lay hands upon him ; and it was not long before they found something that suited them exactly. CHAPTEK XIII. THE CATASTKOPHE. TRIAL AND IMPRISONMENT. In one of the Registers of July, 1809, appeared the following article; the consequences of which were so serious, I feel compelled to give it entire : "Local Militia and German Legion. "The mutiny amongst the Local Militia, which, broke out at Ely, y/as fortunately suppressed on Wednesday, by the arrival of four sgtiadrons of the German Legion Cavaley from Bury, under the command of General Auckland. Five of the ringleaders were tried by a Court-martial, and sentenced to receive five hundred lashes each, part of which punishment they received on Wednesday, and a part was remitted. A stoppage for their knapsacks was the ground of complaint that excited this mutinous spirit, which oc- casioned the men to surround tlieir officers and demand what they deemed their arrears. Tlie first division of the German Legion halted at Newmarket on tlieir return to Bury.''— Courier (ministe- rial) newspaper, Saturday, 24tli of June, 1809. " See the motto, English reader ! See the motto ; and then do pray recollect all that has been said about the way in which Bonaparte raises his soldiers. "Well done, Lord Castlereagh! This is just what it was thought your plan would produce. Well said, Mr. Huskisson ! It really was not without reason that you dwelt, with so much earnestness, upon the utility of the The CataMrophe. 123 foreifjn troops, whom Mr. Wardle appeared to tliink of no utility at all. Poor gentleman ! lie little imagined Low a great genius might find useful employment for such troops. He little imagined that they might be made the means of compelling Enghshmen to submit to that sort of discipline, which is so conducive to the producing in them a disposition to defend the country at the risk of their lives. Let Mi\ Wardle look at my motto, and then say whether the German soldiers are of 710 use. '■'■Five hundred lashes each! Aye, that is right! Flog them ; flog them ; flog them ! They deserve it, and a gi'eat deal more. They deserve a flogging at every meal time. Lash them daily, lash them daily. What! shall the rascals dare to mutiny, and that too when the German Legion is so near at hand ! Lash them, lash them, lash them! They deserve it. O yes; they merit a double- tailed cat. Base dogs! What, mutiny for the sake of the jyrice of a Jcnapsack ! Lash them! flog them! Base rascals! mutiny for the price of a goat-skin, and then, upon the appearance of the Gertnan soldiers, they take a flogging as quietly as so many trunks of trees ! " I do not know what sort of a place Ely is ; but I really shoxild like to know how the inhabitants looked one an- other in the face while this scene was exhibiting in then' town. I should 'like to have been able to see their faces, and to hear their observations to each other, at the time. " This occuiTcnce at home will, one would hope, teach the loyal a httle caution in speaking of the means which Napoleon employs (or rather, which they say he employs) in order to get together and to discipline his conscripts. There is scarcely any one of these loyal persons who has not, at various times, cited the handcuffings and other means of force said to be used in drawing out the young men of Fx'ance; there is scarcely any of the loyal who have not cited these means as a proof, a complete proof, that the people of Finance hate Napoleon and his govern' 124 Life of William Cohhett. ment, assist witJi reluctance in Ms wars, and would fain see another revolution. I ho^e, I say, tliat the loyal will hereafter be more cautious iii di'awing such conclusions, now that they see that our ' gallant defenders ' not only require physical restraint m certain cases, but even a lit- tle blood drawn from their backs, and that, too, with the aid and assistance of German troops. Yes ; I hope the loyal will be a little more upon their guard in drawing conclusions against Napoleon's popularity. At any rate, every time they do, in future, bru-st out in execrations against the French for suffering themselves to be chained together and forced, at the point of the bayonet, to do military duty, I shall just republish the passage which I have taken for a motto to the present sheet. "I have heard of some other pretty little things of the sort ; but I rather choose to take my instance (and a very complete one it is) from a public print notoriously under the sway of the Ministry." For writing and publishing this article — which, it must be confessed, is severe, yet obviously dashed off in a fit of indignation at such shameful treatment of his country- men in the presence and by the aid of foreign mercenaries : — Cobbett was tried and found guilty of libel against the government ; sentenced to an imprisonment in Newgate of two years, to pay a fine of a thousand pounds to the king, and at the expiration of these two years to give one thousand pounds security for his good behavior for seven years. That was the penalty. The Duke of York had his revenge at last ! The trial was held in the court of King's Bench, before Lord Ellenborough, who, having presided at his trial and conviction in two other libel suits, was not likely to be favorably disposed toward him in the third. In fact, his lordship declared, in his address to the jury, that, as the law required him to state his opinion, he had no hesitation in pronouncing the article in question " a most infamous and seditious libel." The The Catastrophe. 125 prosecuting officer (who is the first to give information of the matter) was also the same as in the previous trial, Attorney-General Gibbs, whom Cobbett ever afterwards called " the infamous Gibbs." Cobbett was his own coun- sel, and defended himself ; and, although he spoke with great force and clearness, I am strongly inclined to think that if he had, like the government, employed first-class legal assistance, the result would have been a very differ- ent one. Thus the government that he had once lauded to the skies, that he had proclaimed to be superior to every other, now laid its hand heavily upon him ; depriving him of liberty and property, and seriously injuring him in his business relations. But this punishment, terrible as it was, instead of breaking him down and makmg him a tame and submissive servant of the men that inflicted it, had the contrary effect; for, from the moment he saw there was no leniency to be expected, from the moment he found that every overtui"e was rejected, and that for the crime of expressing indignation at the flogging of his countrymen, he would have to be shut up for years, like a felon, within the dark and gloomy walls of Newgate, he firmly made up his mind to let them do then- worst, to defy them, and to carry on uncompromising war against them until he had caused both them and the deplorable state of things they had created in England to disappear forever. "From that hour," says Mr. Edward Smith, "the sword which had been so near laying by to rust, had its blade new-tempered, while the scabbard was clean cast away forever." Though never a repubhcan, he now became thoroughly liberal in his views, and attacked the abuses of govern- ment with redoubled energy. He advocated the abohtion of many harmful restrictions and a sweeping reform of Parliament. He always declared that he did not want anything ne%o, but simply the true and faithful enforce- 126 Life of William Gobhett. ment of the laws of England ; tliat the kind of govern- ment in England was the best in the world, and that all that was wanted was the proper execution of the laws. Though he felt deeply the severity and cruelty of the punishment inflicted upon him, and though perhaps every article he wrote after this was tinged with bitterness at the recollection of his never-to-be forgotten incarceration in Newgate, he never lost faith in the institutions or the laws of his country, nor ever for a moment despaired of eventually triumphing over his enemies. " In no portion of his life, indeed," says Sir Hem-y Bul- wer, "did he show greater courage — in none does the better side of his character come out in brighter relief than when, within the gloomy and stifling walls of New- gate, he carried on his farming, conducted his paper, edu- cated his children, and waged war (his most natural and favorite pursuit) against his enemies, with as gay a cour- age as could have been expected from him in sight of the yellow corn-fields and breathing the pure air he loved so well." His next Register is dated from Newgate prison — where he paid the keeper a guinea a day for two whole years in order to secure a room apart from the felons — and begins thus : " After having published seventeen volumes of this work, embracing the period of eight years and a half, — ■ during which time I have written with my own hand nearly two thousand articles upon various subjects, with- out having, except in one single instance, incurred even the threats of the law, — I begia the eighteenth volume in a prison. In this respect, however, I only share the lot of many men who have inhabited this very prison before me ; nor have I the smallest doubt that I shall hereafter be enabled to follow the example of those men. On the triumphing, the boundless joy, the feasting and shouting, of the peculators or public robbers, and of all those, whether profligate or hypocritical villains, of whom I have Reply to the Attorney- GeneraVs Accusation. 127 been the scom-ge, I look with contempt; knowing very well, feeling in my heart, that my situation, even at this time, is infinitely preferable to theu's ; and as to the future, I can reasonably promise myself days of peace and happi- ness, while continual di*ead must haunt their guilty minds, while every stir and every sound must make them quake for feai". Their day is yet to come." Then he goes on to notice various points in the last speech of the Attorney-General (who, he says, made three speeches to his one), which speech he was not allowed to answer verbally. The Attorney- General accused him of creating among the soldiers a spirit of impatience and in- subordination, and of telling them that they were hai'dly, cruelly, and tyi'annically dealt with : whereas " the situa- tion of the soldiers of this cormtry was more comfortable than at any former period;" also of writing merely for the sake of " base lucre," and declared that the article in question was one of the blackest libels ever penned, tend- ing du'ectly to the destruction of civilization and good government. CHAPTEE XIV. cobbett's reply to the attokney-geneeal's accusation. What hurt Cobbett most was the accusation that he wrote merely for the sake of "base lucre," and against this charge — of the falsity of which the reader must be convinced from various circumstances akeady mentioned — he made a strong defence; part of which I must be allowed to quote, as it throws more light on his character and influence than anything that can be said by his biog- rapher : "In general, it is a topic of exaltation, that industry and talent ai"e rewarded with the possession of wealth. 128 Life of Willimii Cobbett. The great object of the teachers of youth, in this country, seems always to have been instilhng into their minds that wealth was always the sure reward of industry and ability. Upon what ground, then, is it, that the 'amassing of wealth,' the ' making of a fortune,' by the use of industry and talents, is to be considered as meriting reproach in me ? The fact is not true ; I have not amassed viealth, and have not made a fortune, m. any fair sense of those phrases. I do not possess a quarter as much as I should, in all probability, have gained by the use of the same de- gree of industry and talent in trade or commerce. But if the fact were otherwise, and if I rode in a coach-and-four, instead of keeping one pleasure-horse, and that one only because it is thought necessary to the health of my wife ; if I had really a fortune worthy of being so called, what right would any one have to rej)roach me with the posses- sion of it f I have been laboring seventeen years since I quitted the army. I have never known what it was to enjoy any of that which the world calls pleasure. From a beginning with nothing, I have acquu-ed the means of making some little provision for a family of six children (the remains of thii'teen), besides having for several years maintained almost wholly three times as many children of my relations. And am I to be reproached as a lover of ' base lucre ' because I begin to have a prospect (for it is nothing more) of makmg such provision ? And am I now, upon such a charge, to be stripped, in one way or another, of the means of making such provision"? Was it man- ly and brave for the Attorney-General, when he knew that I should not be permitted to answer him, to make such an attack, not only upon me, but upon the future comfort of those who depend upon me for support"? Verily, this is not to be forgotten presently. As long as I or my children are able to remember, this will be borne in mind ; and I have not the smallest doubt of seeing the day when Sir Yicary Gibbs, and those who belong to him. Ileply to the Attorney- GeneraVs Accusation. 129 will not think of any such thing as that of reproaching us with the possession of our own earnings." He was at this time caiTying on, besides The Register, three other publications, tlu-ee great and useful works. The Parliamentary History, The Parliamentary Debates,* and The State Trials; and after mentioning the fact, that from these works, though immediately and perma- nently useful to the public, he could not expect any present gain, and that "base lucre" could form no part of the object with which they were undertaken, he con- tinues in this pleasing strain : " I have heard others ap- plauded for theii" public spirit in encountering what have been called great national v:iorks. What a clatter was made in this way about large editions of Shakespeare and Milton, which were at last got rid of by means of a lot- tery, authorized by Act of Parhament ! The terms liberal- ity and viunijicence were given to the undertakers of those works ; but was there anything in them of national utility worthy of being compared with these works of mine'? I have encountered these works unaided by any- body ; I shall ask the Honorable House for no Lottery to carry them through. I trust solely to their real intrinsic merit for their success ; and if they do succeed, shall I therefore be accused of seeking after ' base lucre ? ' This work (the Register), of which I now begin the eighteenth volume, has had nothing to support it but its own merits. Not a poimd, not even a pound in paper money was ever expended upon advertising it. It came up like a grain * Begun 1803, sold to his printer, Hansard, in 1810. "This un- dertaking," says Mr. Edward Smith, "has long since made the name of Hansard famous; taut this is the place to remind the rt-ader that its origin and successful issue for a number of years, is one of the long-forgotten putalic services of "William Cobtaett." "When Cobbett was condemned to two years' imprisonment as the author, Hansard received three mouths as the printer, of the so- called libel 6* 130 Life of William Cohhett. of mustard-seed, and like a grain of mustard-seed it has spread over the whole civiUzed world. And why has it spread more than other publications of the same kind? There have not been wanting imitations of it. There have been some dozens of them, I believe: same size, same form, same type, same heads of matter, same title, all but the word expressing my name. How many efforts have been made to tempt the pubhc away from me, while not one attempt has been made by me to prevent it ! Yet all have failed. The changeling has been discovered, and the wretched adventurers have then endeavored to wreak their vengeance on me. They have sworn that I write badly ; that I publish nothing but trash ; that I am both fool and knave. But still the readers hang on to me. One would think, as Falstaff says, that I had given them love-powder. No ; but I have given them as great a rarity, and something fully as attractive ; namely, tkuth in CLEAK LANGUAGE. I have stripped statement and reason of the foppery of affectation; and, amongst my other sins, is that of having shown, of having proved beyond all dispute, that very much of what is called ' learning ' is imposture, quite useless to any man whom God has blessed with brains. "The Register has created in England, and even in other countries, a new taste in reading, and an entirely new set of notions upon political matters ; and can it be possible that any one is to be persuaded, that such an effect is to be produced by mere libelling ? No ; nor will any one believe that it is to be produced by a miad bent upon 'base lucre.' If 'base lucre 'had been my princi- pal object, or indeed if it had been a considerable object with me, I never should have written with effect; be- cause, to write with effect, one's mind must be free, which it never can be if the love of gain be uppermost." He then shows the inc^ istency of the charge of "ba"se lucre" and "seditious intentions." If the first England After the French Revolution. 131 were true, the latter could not be ; for with the destruc- tion of the government, with insurrection and confusion in the country, all the works he was pubHshing, from which his profits were to come, would at once become valueless. And with reference to his farms, of which we shall speak presently, he says : " For a man who has real property to wish for the annihilation of those laws by which alone that property is sacred to him, is not likely ; for a man who, like me, is planting trees and sowing acorns and making roads and breaking up wastes, to wish for the destruction of order and law and property, is still less likely." CHAPTEE XV. ENGLAND AFTEE THE FEENCH EEVOLUTION. One may imagine the state of things in England, the degi'ee of liberty of speech, at this time, when an article of such a character should cause its author to be con- signed to a jail with thieves, swindlers, and murderers. One would imagine that the right-thinking and generous- minded part of the English people would have protested against it, and condemned it in such unmistakable tones that the government would not have dared to put the verdict into execution. But those were evil times, in which generous impulses were suppressed and opposition to authority was looked upon as treason. The French Revolution had stopped all political progress in England, and from 1793 to 1830 the coimtry was governed on reactionary principles; the terrible scenes enacted in that Revolution having frightened every liberal thought out of the heads of Englishmen, and caused the very name of reformer to be hai ^ like the name of atheist. Even Burke, the able, philosophic, highly-cultured, prac- 132 lAfe of William Cohhett. tical Edmimd Biu-ke; even lie had his head turned by this amazing Revolution, and advocated principles the very reverse of what he previously contended for. The same man who, twenty years before, had clearly shown the folly and impracticableness of the war against the Ameri- can colonies, now advocated a European war, compared with which the American war was but a mere trifling episode. He insisted on the right of England to compel France to change her principles, and pleaded for a war, a long war, a war of revenge, a war of extermination against that "gang of robbers," that "nation of murderers," that "hell," that "republic of assassins," that band of "mis- creants " who were " the dirtiest, lowest, most fraudulent, most knavish of chicaners." * " To profess liberal views," says Trevelyan, speaking of this period in his admirable Life of Lord Macaulay, " was to be hopelessly excluded from all posts of emolument, from all functions of dignity, from the opportunities of busmess, from the amenities of society. Quiet trades- men, who ventvued to maintain that there was something in Jacobinism besides the guillotine, soon found theh' town or village too hot to hold them, and were glad to place the Atlantic between themselves and their neighbors. The county representation of England was an anomaly, and the borough representation little better than scandal. The press was gagged in England and throttled in Scot- land. Every speech, or sermon, or pamphlet, the sub- stance of which a crovjn lawyer could torture into a seni- hlance of sedition, sent its author to the jail, the hulks, or the pillory." Leigh Hvmt, at this time editor and part proprietor of the Examiner, had an experience very similar to Cob- bett's. He was prosecuted for hbel against the govern- ment three or four times by this same Sir Vicary Gibbs, ♦Buckle, History of Civilization in England, Vol. I., p. 338. Em/land After the French JRevolution. 133 whom he describes as "a little, instable, sharp-featured, bihous-looking man ; " as " a bad reasoner, who made half- witted charges," and one who " assiimed we could have )io motives for ^oriting hut mercenary onesy This last seems to have been a standing accusation with him. After various unsuccessful prosecutions, Hunt was overtaken at last. In 1813 he thus fearlessly described the profligate and worthless Prince Regent, who had lately been covered with flattering appellations and lauded to the skies by some wi'etched sycophantic rhymer : " "What person unac- quainted with the true state of the case would imagme, in reading these astounding eulogies, that this ' Glory of the people ' was the subject of milUons of shrugs and reproaches ! — that this ' Protector of the Ai'ts ' had named a wretched foreigner his historical painter, in disparage- ment or in ignorance of the merits of his own country- men ! — that this ' Maecenas of the age ' patronized not a single deserving vniter! — that this 'Breather of elo- quence ' could not say a few extempore words, if we are to judge, at least, from what he said to his regiment on its embarkation for Portugal! — that this 'Conqueror of hearts' was the disappointer of hopes!— that this 'Exciter of desu-e,' this 'Adonis in loveliness,' was a corpulent man of fifty! — in short, this delightful, bliss- fid, loise, pleasurable, honorable, virtuous, true, and hnniortal prince, was a violator of his word, a libertine over head and ears in disgrace, a despiser of domestic ties, the companion of gamblers and demireps, a man who had just closed half a century without one smgle claim on the gi'atitude of his country or the res^^ect of posterity ! " For this picture, true no doubt to the life, and worthy of Cobbett himself, Leigh Hunt, with his brother John, who was his partner, was condemned to suffer, and he and his brother did suffer, a punishment neai'ly the same as Cobbett's — that is, the two brothers were sentenced to 134 Life of WilUain Oobhett. two years imprisonment, in separate jails, and a fine of five hundred pounds each.* So shamelessly ' corrupt was the government at this time that seats in Parhament and government situations were actually advertised for sale, in the public prints, and privately sold to the highest bidder. Cobbett counted fifty-seven such advertisements in the morning papers. Members of Parhament sold their votes — for prices rang- ing from £200 to £1,000 — almost without disguise.f The pubhc purse was plundered by all manner of jobbers; hosts of pensioners, placemen, sinecurists, and parasites of every description fed and fattened at the public ex- pense. The court was so shamelessly profligate that the fes- tive entertainments of iheprhices mid their mistresses -were regularly chronicled in the ministerial or court paper ; X and the daily press, that power which has been called the fourth estate, the guardian of freedom and the scourge of villainy, was never more thoroughly corrupt and venal than at this time. The ministry bought up scores of newspapers, in which they published anything and every thing they desu-ed; they hired troops of writers, who wrote at their dictation essays, pamphlets, reviews, and leading articles, all aimed against liberal ideas, which * Strange enough, this same Leigh Hunt, wliose fellow-martyr- ship with Cobbett ought to have caused him, one would imagine, to have felt some sympathy and kindly feeling toward him, was, apparently through jealousy, a bitter enemy of his, attacking him whenever he had a chance. The reader has only to be reminded that ' Skinpole' in Dickens's Bleak House, is said to be a portrait of Leigh Hunt. t " Danby did not exactly introduce the practice of bribing mem- bers of Parliament, but he was the minister who reduced it to a system. The direct bribery of members in hard cash lasted for about a century ; Lord Rockingham was the first prime minister who refused a bribe. His term of office was remai'kably short. The price of a member's vote ranged, under George HI., from £200 to i:l,000." Bribery in Parliament : Cornhill Magazine. Selections from Cobbett's Political Works, Vol. III. , p. 69. England After the French Revolution. 135 were scattered broadcast over the country and delivered free of expense. When the opinion of the nation w^as against them, they made up their minds to change that opinion by hook or by crook. This was done during the whole sixty years of the retrograde and disastrous reign of George the Thu-d ;* and in Cobbett's time it was about as bad as it had been at any time during this miserable reign. He tells us that in all the daily papers, paragraphs from individuals, or bodies of men, were inserted for payment, no matter what they contained, so that the pro- * Every American shovild know that the Acts leading to the war against the Colonies were carried through in this way, against the unmistakable wishes of the English people. Anecdotes of Lord CJmtliam, Vol. II., chap. 41. The reader will remember the ex- ample given in Cobbett's own father and his fi-.euds at the fair. Judging from the names of the mercenary government writers given in this book, the Anecdotes of Lord Chatham, they were all, curiously enough, except the first and perhaps the last, Scotch- men : Dr. Samuel Johnson, Messrs. Dalrymple, Macpherson, Stuart, Lind, Knox, and Naduit. The S cotch and the Swiss are noted lor their love of liberty and their heroic bravery in defence of it for themselves: but it seems they have no objection to be paid for depriving other people of it. There were many Scotchmen, how- ever, who fought by the side of Washington ; among others, the famous St. Clair— (the Scotch always spell the name Sinclair)— who belonged to the same family as the well-known Sir John Sinclair and Catharine Sinclair of Thurso Castle. The stain on the Scotch name, bad as it may be regarded, is trifling compared to that on the name of the Germans, who allowed themselves to be bargained for and bought like cattle, wholesale, and trans- ported to America to fight the Americans. George III., who paid his royal brother, Frederick II. of Hesse-Cassel, the enormous sum of £3,000,000 of English money for 22,000 head of these cattle, was himself practically a German, crammed with all the narrow cmte notions of his race ; hence all his ideas of public policy were illiberal, despotic, unconstitutional, and in direct opposition to those of the people over whom he ruled. There is no state in Germany, even at the present day, that has anything like repre- sentative, responsible government. 136 Life of William Cobbett. prietor was not exposed to the lash of the law. The price being enormous — half a guinea an inch-^the rich man had the whole press for his apologist; while the poor man, if he were oppressed or slandered, had not the means of appealing to the justice of the pubhc. He gives as an instance, the case of Colonel Cochrane John- ston, who, being tried by Coiu-t-martial for an offence against the laws, and acquitted, " that deeply injured gen- tleman was unable to obtain the publication even of so brief a thing as the mere decision without paying, to the different daily papers, fifty or sixty guineas ;" while long paragraphs in defence of other less worthy but wealthy parties, whom he names, appeared in all the daily papers. "Money, the public money; to share in the immense sums raised upon the people ; in some way or other to effect this purpose, is the object of ninety-nine out of every hundred persons who write and publish their writ- ings, and, which object is, and must ever be, in direct and necessary hostility to the interests of the people at large. If, therefore, there ever was in the world a thing com- pletely perverted from its original design and tendency, it is the press of England ; which, instead of enlighten- ing, does, as far as it has any power, keep the people in ignorance ; which, instead of cherishing notions of liberty tends to the making of the people slaves ; and which, in- stead of being their guardian, is the most efficient instru- ment in the hands of all those who oppress, or who wish to oppress them."* Cobbett had such contempt for the writers on the daily and weekly press, that he once ex- pressed a wish to see the whole crew drawn up in a row in Hyde Park, in order that the public might see "what a mean, rascally, shabby, and despicable set of wretches undertook to dhect public opinion." * Selections from Political Works, Vol. III., p. 143. 19 How to Live in a Prison. 137 CHAPTER XVI. HOW TO LIVE IN A PRISON. As CoBBETT liad always been fond of agricultural pur- suits, and as he liad for some time been prosperous in his printing and pubhshing enterprises, he had bought, as we have seen, an estate at Botley, near Southampton. This estate consisted of a large house in the village of Botley, and the two farms called Fairthorn and Eaglington, with two other smaller ones. " He had determined on leading a country life," say his sons, "and had taken all the means to do so, when the government prosecution was begun ; and, as a considerable purchase, such as he had made, pai'tly upon the faith of the profits of his literary labors, requii-ed more than ordinary exertion and care, the reader can imagine, better than we can describe, how ruinous his mere absence from home was at this time." Everything was unsettled; all his plans and prospects were deranged ; and he had to make what arrangements he could for the management of his affairs by others. With his bookselling business in London, with the various works he was editing and publishing besides the Register, with his sowing and planting and cattle-raising and dog- breeding, he was a busy man at this time, and could ill afford to be shut up and kept away from everything in which he had such deep interest. He did, it seems, offer the government to suppress the Register altogether, if they would revoke the sentence of imprisonment. But in vain; they were thirsting for vengeance, and nothing else would satisfy them. Of this offer, I shall have some- thing to say by and by. When he saw no escape from the dire ordeal, he went bravely to work, and made the most he could of a desperate state of things; in fact, it is wonderful how much he did under such unpromising 138 Life of William Cohhett. circumstances. The Eegister he continued to edit from his prison. He often wrote when surrounded by his chil- dren, who frequently visited him, and he never composed with greater pleasure, or was more delighted, than when they made the loudest noise or played the wildest pranks around him. The picture that he himself gives of his prison-life finely illustrates his character as a father and husband; for notwithstanding the bitter war he carried on against the government and its agents, all was peace, affection, and harmony in his family. He was loved to adoration by his children, whom he brought up in a sin- gularly primitive sort of manner, never teaching them their letters until they had learned all the operations of farming, as well as hunting, shooting, and the like ; and when they had leai'ned all these things, he taught them to read and to write by an ingenious method of his own. "It was in the month of July," he says, "when that horrible sentence was passed upon me. My wife, having left her children in the care of her good and aifectionate sister, was in London, waiting to know the doom of her husband. When the news arrived at Botley, the three boys, one eleven, another nine, and the other seven years old, were hoeing cabbages in that garden which had been the source of so much delight. When the account of the savage sentence was brought to them, the youngest could not, for some time, be made to understand what a jail was, and when he did, he, all in a tremor, exclaimed: ' Now, I'm B\yre, William, that Papa is not in a place like that!' The other, in order to disguise his tears and smother his sobs, fell to work with the hoe, and chopped about like a blind person. This account, when it reached me, affected me more, filled me with deeper resentment, than any other circumstance. "Now, then, the book-learning wsls forced upon us. I had a farm in hand. It was necessary that I should be constantly informed of what was doing. I gave all the How to Live in a J^rison. 139 orders, whether as to pvu'chases, sales, ploughing, sowing breeding; in short, in regard to everything; and the things were endless in number and variety, and always full of interest. My eldest son and daughter could now write well and fast. One OT the other of these was always at Botley ; and I had with me (having hired the best part of the keeper's house) one or two, besides either this brother or sister; the mother coming up to town about once in two or three months, leaving the house and the children in the care of her sister. We had a HAMPER, with a lock and two keys, which came up once a week, or oftener, bringing me fruit and all sorts of country fare ; for the carriage of which, cost free, I was indebted to as good a man as ever God created, the late Mr. George Rogers, of Southampton. This hamper, which was always, at both ends of the line, looked for with the most lively feelings, became our school. It brought me a journal of labors, proceedings and occurrences, wi'itten on paper of shape and size uniform, and so contrived, as to margins, as to admit of binding. The journal used, when my son was the writer, to be interspersed with drawings of our dogs, colts, or anything that he wanted me to have a cor- rect idea of. The hamper brought me plants, bulbs, and the like, that I might see the size of them ; and always every one sent his or her most beautiful fioioers j the eai'hest violets, and primroses, and cowslips, and blue- bells; the earUest twigs of trees; and, in short, every- thing that they deemed calculated to delight me. The moment the hamper arrived, I, casting aside everything else, set to work to answer every question, to give new directions, and to add everytliing likely to give pleasure at Botley. Every hamper brought one ' letter,' as they called it, if not more, from every child; and to every letter I wrote an answer, sealed up and sent to the party, beiag sure that that was the way to produce other and better letters; for, though they could not read what I 140 Life of William Cobhett. wrote, and though their own consisted at first of mere scratches, and afterwards, for a while, of a few words written down for them to imitate, I always thanked them for their '■pretty letter,'' and never expressed any wish to see them V3rite better ; but took care to write in a very neat and plain hand myself, and to do up my letter in a very neat manner. Thus, while the ferocious tigers [who condemned him] thought I was doomed to incessant mortification, and to rage that must extinguish my mental powers, I found in my children, and in their spotless and courageous and afi'ectionate mother, delights to which the callous hearts of those tigers were strangers." But the more serious occupation of Cobbett, apart from his articles for the Register, was the writing of his famous book, " Paper against Gold." He thus describes, in one of his public letters to Lord Brougham, the incep- tion of that work: "The next day after Gibbs, Ellen- borough, and their associates, had got me safe in Newgate, an American friend of mine, who had the clearest and soundest head of almost any man I ever knew in my hfe, and for whom I had, and still have, a very great personal regard, came to see me in a very miserable hole, though better than that to which I had been sentenced, and from which I finally ransomed myself, at the expense, for lodg- ing alone, of twelve Mtndred pounds. Being seated, one of us on each side of a little bit of a table, he said, look- ing up into my face, with his arms folded upon the edge of the table, ' Well, they have got you, at last. And now, what will you do ? ' After a moment or two, T answered, ' "What do you think I ought to do ? ' He then gave me his opinion, and entered pretty much into a sort of plan of proceedings. "I heard him out, and then I spoke to him in much about these words: 'No, Dickins, that will never do. This nation is drunk ; it is mad as a March hare, and mad it will be till this beastly frolic (the war against Napoleon) IIov) to Ziive ill a J^riso?i. 141 is over. The only mode of proceeding, in order to get satisfaction, reqiiii'es great patience. The nation must suffer at last, and greatly and dreadfully suffer, and in that suffering it will come to its senses, and to that jus- tice of sentiment which is now wholly banished. I shall make no immediate impression by tracing the paper-sys- tem to its deadly root. The common people will stare at me, and the lich ruffians will sneer ; but the time must come when all will listen; and my plan is to vjrite that noio which I can hold up to the teeth of my insolent enemies and taunt them with in the hour of their distress.' — 'Aye,' said he, 'but the inornis may be taunting you before that time.' — 'No matter,' said I, 'for though fame, after the worms have been at work, is a foolish thing, you must recollect that I have no other line to pursue. By pursuing this, I seciu-e a chance of final success and satisfaction, and by no other can I perceive a possibility of obtaining even that chance.' I then desciibed to him the outline of what I intended to do with regard to the paper-system, and after passing a very pleasant afternoon, diuing which we selected and rejected several titles, we at last fixed upon that of '■Paper against Gold,'' which I began to wi'ite and to publish a few weeks afterwards, and which, at the end of thii'teen years, I hold up to the noses of the insolent foes who then exulted over me, and tell them, 'This is what you got by my having been sentenced to Newgate ; this is the produce of that deed by which it was hoped and beheved that I was pressed down, never to be able to sth- again.' . . . This was a new epoch in the progress of my mind. I now bent my whole force to one object, regardmg every thing else as of no conse- quence at all. The pursuits of agriculture and gai'dening filled up the moments of mere leism-e and relaxation. Other topics than that of paper-money came now and then to make a variety ; but this was the main thing ; I never had any hope in anything else; and nothing else 14:2 Life of William Oohhett. was an object of my care. Whether I were rich or poor I cared not a straw. I never cared in my life how I ate, drank, or slept. I had Newgate in my recollection and the paper-money for my polar star." Cobbett's imprisonment was not without its fruits : it shortened the life of the brutal practice of flogging, not only in England, but in the United States. " What came of it all?" says Mr. Edward Smith. "In the first place, before Mr. Cobbett was released, flogging had become so discredited as to be nearly in desuetude, as regards the British army. Secondly, the degrading practice was totally abolished in the United States army, by Act of Congress of April 10th, 1812." While in prison, Cobbett was visited by a great num- ber of persons, who regarded him as suffering in the cause of public liberty. During the two years, he was visited by persons, whom he had never seen before, fi'om 197 cities and towns in England, Scotland, and Ireland, the larger number of whom came to him as the deputies of some society, club, or circle of people, in their respect- ive places of residence. " I had the infinite satisfaction," he says, " to learn from the gentlemen who thus visited me, that my writings had induced those who had read them to think. This fact, indeed, of being visited by per- sons from almost every considerable town in the kingdom, speaks a language that cannot be misunderstood." Yet his enemies never ceased firing away at him, even in prison. He was annoyed by various squibs and satires ; "one villain, whose name was Gillray," caricatured him standing before the bars of his jail. His friends offered to raise a penny subscription for him in order to defray his expenses. This he refused, desiring them rather to buy the sets of his Register which he had still on hand. Few, however, availed themselves of this offer, as the sets were expensive, twenty-five and a half guineas each. He acted unwisely in refusing the IIov) to Live in a Prison. 143 penny subscription, which would no doubt have been qiute as successful as was that for his friend Lord Coch- rane, and would probably have covered all his expenses, including the twelve hundred pounds to the jailer. Cob- bett evidently disliked receiving money without giving any equivalent for it, and much prefen-ed selling his wares to receiving a gratuity. Thus the two years of his prison-life were spent in editing his paper, -vsT^-iting his book on jjaper-money, ad- vocating measures of reform, exposing and denouncing his enemies and then- measures, managing his farm, educating his childi'en, and showing the kindest and gentlest atten- tions to all the members of his family, whose thoughts were only of him and of what would be pleasing to him. In public life he was exacting, severe, domineering ; in pri- vate hfe kind, affable, indulgent. This man of battle, this undaunted fighter, who loved nothing better than a tussle with his enemies, who dared the whole power of the British government, and openly defied the prejudices of the people and the hostility of powerful ecclesiastical and political organizations, displayed a mindfulness of those whom he loved worthy of the gentlest natui'e. So re- gai'dful was he of his wife, who was constitutionally timid and especially afraid of thunder-storms, that whenever he saw a storm approaching while he was absent from home, he used to di'op whatever he had in hand, and hasten home as fast as he could. So that his French friends used to say, when he made an appointment with one of them, and declared that he would be punctually on hand at a given time and place, " Sauve le tonnerre, Monsieur Cobbett! " (Except it thunders, Mr. Cobbett!) He speaks of his wife as "a companion who, though deprived of all opportunity of acquii'ing what is called learning, had so much good sense, so much useful knowledge, was so innocent, so just in all her ways, so 144 Life of William Cohhett. pure in thought, word, and deed, so disinterested, so generous, so devoted to me and her children, so free from all disguise, and, withal, so beautiful and so talkative, and in a voice so sweet, so cheering, that I must, seeing the health and the capacity which it had pleased God to give me, have been a criminal, if I had done much less than that which I have done; and I have always said, that if my country felt any gratitude for my labors, that gratitude is due to her, full as much as to me." How many men, in these days of divorces and matrimonial wrangles, can boast of such a wife? And how many wives can boast of such a husband, so mindful of them as to drop everything and make for home on the approach of a thunder-storm? One cannot help thinking of the circumstance, that the thoughts and feelings of this well- mated pair must have instinctively turned towards each other during every thunder-storm that occtured while the one was held fast within the strong walls of that terrible old Newgate prison. His Return to Botley. 145 PAI^T III. Frcm Cobbett's Release fkom Newgate, 1812, till his X Death, 1835. CHAPTER I. HIS eeturn to botley. On his liberation from prison, Cobbett was not a little gi'atified and consoled by the manner in which he was received by the people of Hampshu'e and his neighbors in Botley. At one of the towns on his way home, he was met by gentlemen who had come thu-ty mUes to see him, and on his approach to Botley the young men di'ew him in his carnage for more than a mile. " "Wlien we got into Botley," he says, " about nine o'clock in the evening of the 11th of July, there was a sight for Su' Vicary Gibbs and Lord Ellenborough, and his brother judges, to see. The inhabitants of the village gathered round me; the young men, and the boys, and theii fathers and mothers, listening to the account of the cause of my absence; hearing me speak of the local militia and the German troops at the town of Ely ; heai'ing me call upon fathers and mothers to reflect on what I said, and on tlieu' sons to beai* it in mind to the last horn* of their lives. In short, the thing ended precisely as it ought to end, in a plain appeal to the rmderstanding of a village ; to young country men and boys, and their fathers and mothers. "To express my feelings on this occasion," he con- tinues, " is quite impossible. Suffice it to say that the good behavior, the civility and kindness of all the 7 146 Lvfe of William Cobbett. people of the village to my family diu'iiig my absence, and tlieir most affectionate reception of myself at my return, will never be effaced from my recollection. If I had wanted a motive to love my country, here would have been motive sufficient. That nation can- not be otherwise than good, where the inhabitants of a whole parish are so honest, so just and so kind. For my part, born and bred amongst the farmers and laborers of England, I have ever entertained towards them feelings of kindness ; but I have now to add the feeling of grati- tude, and of that feeling I shall, I hope, never fail to give proof, when it is in my power to defend any of my poorer neighbors against the oppressions of the more powerful." We shall see that this was not a vain promise, but was repeatedly fulfilled to the letter in his subsequent career. Whenever there are two statements, one by Cobbett and another by somebody else, even by an enemy, Mr. Watson prefers the latter. After quoting the above ac- count of his reception at Botley, he gives us a story of a different kind from the Thnes, the " bloody old Times,'''' as Cobbett used to call it, which was always dead against him. The hostile spirit of this account is apparent on the face of it. The Times' reporter asserts that Cobbett's agent had, some days previous to his return, endeavored to stir up the rustics by announcing that four half hogs- heads of ale would be given away when he came back ; that this agent endeavored to get the church-bells rung, but was refused the keys of the church by the rector ; that the young men would not have drawn the carriage if it were not for the promised ale, for the sake of which they took on them,selves the character of beasts ; that some of the rector's party declared they did not know which had more of the beast, those who dragged or he who was di'agged ; that the procession was composed of persons of the loioest character ; that Cobbett made a speech, upon which his agent and his followers, athirst for the ale, shouted; A J*\ilse IStep and its Consequences. 147 that the affaii' ended with a riot — what we should proba- bly call a revel or a spree — wliich lasted till Sunday morn- ing, and to which the constables were compelled to put an end. Now anybody can see the animus of the writer of this accomit; and yet Mi'. Watson, comparing it with Cob- bett's, says, it " made his entrance into Botley appear of another character, %oMch has generally been thought viuch nearer the truth.'''' Generally been thought? By whom? By Mr. Watson, by his enemies, by the government peo- ple, and the T'mies people, who never missed an oppor- timity to ridicule and pervert and travesty everything he said or did. One cannot help saying to Mr. Watson something like what the little judge said to Sam Weller: " You must not tell us what you or anybody else thought, SU-; it is not evidknce." How groundless are Mi-. Watson's chai'ges ! and how evident it is, that his aim was to under- mine Cobbett's character and destroy all confidence in his words ! CHAPTER II. A FALSE STEP AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. Cobbett's friends celebrated his liberation by a dinner at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, at which Sii" Francis Biu'dett presided. There were six hundi-ed j)ersons jji-es- ent at this dinner, most of them the liberal, progressive, reforming sj)mts of the day. But there were some other spirits of a different character : the government still had their eyes on him, and sent their emissaries there ; and the Times, which was hand in glove with the government, had its emissaries there too. "At the tavern-door," says Mr. Watson, "as the guests entered, handbills were delivered to them, refeiTing them 148 Life of William Cobhett. to a letter in the Times, signed, 'A Fellow-Sufferer from unjust Persecution,' in which various charges were made against Cobbett's political conduct and general dealings with his supporters and the public. It was there shown how he had formerly censured and ridiculed Su' Francis Burdett, whom he was now praising and flattering ; and how he had contradicted himself on other subjects. It was shown that, after having made a large sum of money by his Register, and being in possession of ample means to pay his fine, he had sought to elicit unnecessary contri- butions from his readers and supporters, endeavoring to force on them the pirrchase of surplus copies of that pub- lication by the sale of which he had akeady so largely profited. It was also charged that, at the time of his last trial, between the day of his conviction and that of pro- nouncing the judgment, he had made an offer to the government to discontinue his Register^ on condition that he should be pardoned ; and it was only because this offer had no effect that he continued to publish the Register. " "When his health was drunk as ' an able advocate of parliamentary reform, and zealous opposer of the flog- ging system,' Cobbett had to make a speech. He dwelt at much length on what he had suffered from the prosecu- tion. His change of tone with regard to Sir Francis Bm'dett he justifisd on many grounds which he had dis- covered for altering his opinions respecting that honorable baronet and the prmciples which he advocated. As to discontinuing the Register, he had contemplated doing so, he said, because he was afraid of being unable to write with the freedom which he had previously exercised, and was tmwniing to address the public in a lower strain. — But there was a party in the room whom these observa- tions did not satisfy. One of the company, who did not give his name at first, but afterwards said it was OoUier. remarked that Cobbett had made no specific answer to the two principal charges against him ; first, that he ' had A False Step and its Consequences. 149 unwortliily and indii'ectly attempted to raise a sum of money from the public, to defray the expenses of his trial, when the public had akeady aided him fully to sus- tain them ; ' and, secondly, that he had offered to discon- tinue his Eegister for the purpose of inducing the Court of King's Bench to mitigate the sentence about to be passed upon him.' His object was, he said, to ascertain fi'om Mr. Cobbett, by his dii-ect contradiction of these accusations, that he still continued true to the cause of the people.' Cobbett replied that it was unfair to charge him with endeavoiing to procure money by unworthy means merely because he had, when hving at an extraor- dinary expense, offered his own property for sale; and that as to discontinuing the Eegister, he had never made any such proposition to the government as that which was imputed to him, nor had he ever received any such jDroposition from the government ; nor had he ever had a thought of ceasing to wiite on any such condition as that which had been mentioned. This declaration was fol- lowed by a gTeat uproar, some applauding Cobbett and some decrying him ; and it is certain that a large portion of the company still remained unconvinced by his pro- testations. The truth is, that his censors had got hold of a copy of an address ' To the Readers of the Register,' which he had actually written and printed for insertion in it, at the time of his conviction, stating, that the number in which it would appear would be the last. The motives there intunated for the discontinuance of the Register were such as he alleged in his speech at the dinner ; but the authors of the handbills cii-culated against him de- clared that he did not write the address till he erroneously thought he had made his peace with Ministers." Does not all this look as if Cobbett had got into a "coiu't to try him for dishonorable practices, instead of a company of fiiends to compliment him for honorable •ones ? The whole thmg seems to have been a trap, cai'e- 150 Life of William Cobbett. fully set to catch him ; for he certainly had more enemies than friends at this dinner, and enemies, too, of the most despicable character. Could there be anything more meanly treacherous than this delivery of hostile hand- bills into the hands of the guests as they entered the door ? Wliat should we think of people who, at a dinner given to Mr. Evarts, or Mr. Schiu'z, slipped handbills containing hostile and damaging statements concerning them into the hands of the friends they were about to meet? Even the Tweed gang could hardly have done anything more contemptibly base. It is on a par with the whole conduct of the government of that day; a sneaking, conscienceless crew, who feared Cobbett, and scrupled at no means, however base, of injuring him. Unfortunately, one of these statements concerning Cobbett was, it seems, true ; and although in itself the fact which he denied was by no means dishonorable, he made a grave mistake, nay he acted very wrongly, un- wisely, and xmfairly in denying it. I refer to the accusa- tion of his having offered the government to discontinue his paper in exchange for his freedom. It is obvious from the above account of his speeches at this dinner, that he never iyitended denying it (for he, at the outset, frankly confesses having contemplated discontinuing the Register) until his accuser or cross-questioner twisted it into a test as to whether he still remained faithful to the cause of the people or not; whereupon Cobbett, taken suddenly and without a moment for reflection, fell into the trap set for him. No doubt he had never intended to surrender to the government ; and that is what he meant to say; but the offer to discontinue his paper in ex- change for his liberty was a fact. The charge was subsequently repeated by others, and he denied it again in his letter to Mr, Bose in 1817. "What did take place just before he was brought up for judgment, he relates as follows in that letter: "The A False Step and its Conseqtoences. 151 grounds of the cliarge are as follows : a few days bolore I was brought up for judgment I went home to pass the remaining short space of personal freedom with my famUy. I had just begun farming, and also planting trees, with the hope of seeing them grow up as my chil- dren grew. I had a daughter fifteen years of age, whose birthday was just then approachuig — and, destined to be one of the happiest and one of the most unhappy days of my life — on that day my dreadful sentence was passed. I had one son eleven yeai-s old, another nine yeai'S old, another six years old ; one daughter five years old, another three years old, and another child nearly at hand. You and Perceval might have laughed at all this ; it was yom- turn to laugh then ; but the public will easily beheve that, under the apprehensions of an absence of years, and the great chance of loss of health, if not of life, in a prison, all this produced nothing Hke laughter at Botley. It was at this crisis, no matter by what feelings actuated, that I wrote to my attorney, Mr. White, in Essex street, to make the proposition above stated. But fits of fear and despair* have never been of long duration in my family. The letter was hardly got to the post-office at Southampton before the courage of my wife and eldest daughter retiu-ned. Indignation and resentment took the place of grief and alarm, and they cheerfully con- sented to my stoppmg the letter. Mr. Peter Pinnerty was at my house at the time ; a post-chaise was got, and he came off to London diu'ing the night, and prevented Mr. W I lite from acting on the letter. . . . Now Mr. Pinnerty, whom I have not had the pleasure to see for some years, is alive and in London. Mi'. White is also ahve. The public will be sure that I shovdd not dare to have made the above statement if it had not been true to the very letter." But it seems that he made another offer, tkrough an- other person, after this countermanded one ; and although 152 Life of 'William Cohbett. it came out eight years afterwards, I must liere dispose of it at once. Cobbett had an assistant and partner in his printing and publishing business, a gentleman named Wright, who had been with him for many years. When Cobbett had to go to prison, a division of their property became necessary. Cobbett disputed Wright's demands ; an accountant was consulted, and (according to Mr. Wat- son) this accountant reduced a claim of Cobbett's of twelve thousand pounds to six. This created a mortal enmity between the two; Cobbett attacked Wright at different times, and in 1820 that gentleman brought suit against him for various libelous utterances concerning him. Wright recovered a thousand pounds damages and forty shillings costs, which sum, as Cobbett at that time had lost nearly every penny he possessed, was paid by that excellent man who had been so friendly to him whUe in prison — Mr. George Rogers, of Southampton. The name of such a friend is well worthy of remembrance In this suit, it was shown that, in the interval between the conviction and the passing of sentence (15th of June tm 9th of July, 1810), Cobbett had written to Mr. John Reeves of the Alien office — the same gentleman who pre- sented his " Important Considerations' to the government in 1803 — requesting him to treat with the government for the discontinuance of the Register on condition of a par- don being granted. He also sent to Mr. Reeves a state- ment of his claims for indulgence and a copy of a farewell address to the public on laying down the Register. His offer was refused. Mr. Perceval would not listen to any- thing short of imprisonment; so Cobbett wrote to Mr. Wright to suppress the farewell address and to go on with the Register.* This was the address which his enemies at the Crown and Anchor had got hold of, and which Cobbett thought * Watson's Biography of Cobbett, p. 339. Confession the Only Salvation. 153 was fm*nislied to them and the Tbnes by the treachery of Wright. They may have got it from one of the ministers ; but it matters little from whom they got it; what we have to consider is the denial of the fact itself, which caused Cobbett great annoyance, great loss of reputation, and great damage in every Avay. CHAPTEK III. CONFESSION THE ONLY SALVATION. THE CLEKGYIVIAN AND THE STATESMA.N. It is remarkable that so able a man could not see that there was much more danger in denying than in confess- ing his error, if it may be called such. The only disgrace was in the denial ; the act was not disgi-aceful ; nor would sensible people have thought less of him if he had con- fessed the truth. Let us suppose him to have said; " Yes, gentlemen, it is true, I did this thing ; and after I have told you why, you will not perhaps consider it such a villainous transaction as some of you now seem to do. With my printing and publishing and farming enterprises all threatened with ruin ; Avdth my helpless little ones all clinging to me as if they were never to see me again, and lamenting as if their heai'ts would break — for I had been then* friend and teacher as well as theii' bread-winner — with my wife in a very dehcate state of health ; with a whole houseful of people entirely dependent on me ; mth the prospects of the loss of the fruits of all my labor for years, and of being hiu'ried away from all that was dear to me in the woi-ld and shut up among felons ; with all this before me, is it astonishing that I should have made an attempt, a perfectly fair* and honorable attempt, to espape such a fate ? What did I do *? I offered to give 7* 154 Life of William Oobbett. up my paper ; not my principles. Had I not a right to do this"? Was there anything dishonest or base in this? I was under no obhgation to continue to write; I had always given my subscribers their money's worth, and I would not have allowed them to lose a farthing. The country had done nothing for me. I was in no way bound to sacrifice myself and family if I could avoid it. I was in the state of a soldier surrounded by an irresistible enemy ; and has a soldier so situated ever been ashamed to ask his life, and to accept of it, upon the conditions of not serving again during the war ?" Had he spoken thus, as he subsequently did, in effect, in his letter to Mr. Rose, would any sensible man have condemned him for his act? But the fact is, as I have above indicated, he seems to have been taken unawares, to have fallen into a trap ex- pressly laid for him, and committed an error, which even he, strong man as he was, was afterward ashamed to confess. The confession of a fault, instead of degrading, raises the confessor of it in the estimation of his fellow-men. While it requires coiu-age and manliness to confess a fault, it is an indication of cowardice and weakness to deny it. I am convinced that in the case, for instance, of two celebrated Americans, the one an eloquent and dis- tinguished clergyman, once admired and esteemed by the whole nation as perhaps its greatest representative pulpit- orator ; the other an able statesman and effective speaker ; a man who had been honored with almost the highest ofiices in the gift of the people, and who had enjoyed almost universal respect and popularity ; I am convinced that in the case of these two men, — both of whom have been tried for crime, and acquitted in a peculiar manner, yet both of whom are supposed by the world in general to be guilty, — I am confident that the whole world would, had they frankly confessed their sin on the day of trial, forgiven them for the sake of the frankness and manliness Confession the Only Salvation. 155 of the confession ; and instead of remaining forever under a cloud, and being universally regarded with distrust and suspicion; instead of having the finger of scorn con- stantly pointed at them, and being a standing target for scoffers and satu'ists, they would, I think, be regarded with indulgent and not unkindly feelings by the majority of then- countrymen, and perhaps trusted as much as they had ever been before. And from what oceans of misery, " regi'et, remorse, and shame," the men themselves would have been saved, had they in the first instance told the plain, simjDle truth ! Cobbett, however, had committed no crime in offering to discontinue his paper ; the offer was perfectly harm- less in itself ; his offence was in the denying of the offer. It was a blunder, a criminal blunder, if you j)lease ; but it is eA'ident that, in making the statement he did, he never could have intended uttering a dehberate falsehood, a falsehood by which no possible advantage could be gained, nor any good of any kind seciu'ed to himself or others ; a falsehood so comj)letely senseless and aimless that none but a fool could have intentionally committed it. The tenor of Cobbett's whole life prevents us from supposing him guilty of a deliberate falsehood; and m this case, it seems evident that he was, in the heat and excitement of the moment, simply entrapped into making a statement which was not true, or not strictly true, and he foohshly stuck to it, having once made it. His con- duct, therefore, w^as weak, eiToneous, blameworthy, seri- ously blameworthy ; but it was not of that black nature characteristic of a man of falsehood ; it was not so terribly black as Mr. Watson makes it. It hui't nobody but him- self ; it was indeed disastrous to his own reputation ; for it caused him much trouble, vexation, and loss of fiiends, and became a standing reproach to him for the rest of his life. Like all deviations from the straight line of recti- tude, the evil consequences fell mainly upon himself. 156 Life of William, Cohhett. The chief use of biography is to learn wisdom from the blunders, the errors, and foibles of others ; and the lesson to be learned from this episode in the life of Cobbett is, especially to the young, a very important one: that a falsehood of any kind is a fatal error ; that we must never, under any circumstances, deviate from the simple, plain truth; that we must never allow ourselves to be even entrapped into a He ; and that we must ever scorn false- hood, as mean and contemptible ; ever " Dare to be true, for nothing can need a lie : A fault wliicii needs it most, grows two thereby." CHAPTEK IV. THE UNHAPPY YEAB 1817- SILENCE, A DUNGEON, OR EXILE. Cobbett now became doubly active, and sought every jDOSsible means of defeating the measures and exposing the injustice and tyranny of the ministry that had shown him so Httle mercy. It was something he never forgot or forgave ; something which he told wherever and when- ever he thought it suitable; something the authors of which he held up to contempt and execration on all occa- sions. He reduced the price of his Register, and called into existence his famous Twopenny Trash ; a name given by Lord Castlereagh to his cheap newspapers, and which, like the significant name given him in America, he imme- diately adopted. He became so busy issuing various books and publications, that, as he himself maintained, the government actually passed a law, or a number of laws, called the Six Acts, in order to reach and silence him. " The idea of publishing cheap newspapers under the title of Twopenny Trash," says Sir Henry Bulwer, "and which, not appearing as periodicals, escaped the The Unhappy Year 1817. 157 Stamp Act, now added considerably to his power, and by extending the cii'culation of his writings to a new class, — the mechanic and artisan in urban populations, — made that power dangerous at a period when great distress produced general discontent — a discontent of which the government rather tried to suppress the exhibition than to remove the causes. Nor did Cobbett speak untruly when he said, that the suspension of the Habeas Corpus and the passing of the celebrated Six Acts were more directed against himself than against all the other writers of sedition put together." This was the unhappy year 1817 — a year marked by extreme misery and distress among the people, and con- sequently by riots and distvu-bances, and by all manner of unwise repressive measures on the part of the govern- ment. The ruling class, the aristocracy and the fund- holders, now dreaded a rising of their own countrymen more seriously than they ever dreaded an invasion of the French, and thought their only safety lay in extreme meas- ures of repression and restriction. So that, to use Cob- bett's words, " with a press under the superintendence of the magistrates; with an old treason bill revived; with the Habeas Corpus Act suspended, in time of profound peace ; with legions of paupers, and millions in a state of starvation ; with commerce, manufactures, and agricviltvire ruined ; with all these notoriously existing," the weak and cowardly government of the day could find no cui-e for existing evils but repression and restriction. They hated the Reformers, whom they fooHshly looked upon as the originators of the disturbances and discontents in the coxintry, and the cause of all the evils they had to fear ; and it was in order to get them into their power, that they had the Habeas Corpus Act suspended. As soon as this Act was suspended, and the Six Acts were passed, Cobbett saw plainly that he would have to make up his mind to accept of one of three evils : silence, 158 Life of William Cohhett. a dungeon, or exile. Unfortunately, he chose the last; he made up his mind to take up his residence, for a time, in a country where he could enjoy freedom of speech and of action, and from which he intended to transmit, if pos- sible, his thoughts to England for publication. Had the Atlantic telegraph been in existence at that time, his plan would no doubt have been altogether successful ; but with no quicker means of conveying his thoughts to England than by slow-going sailing-vessels, it could not be other than a failure ; for his thoughts came too late ; he was striking the iron after it had cooled. "With his views, he would, I think, have done far better to have gone over to France or to Holland. Like the German Sociahsts lately landed on our shores, driven from their native land by the gagging laws of Bismarck, Cobbett was driven out by the gagging bills of Castlereagh and Sidmouth, who were determined to suppress hostile criticisms by every means in their power. Had he remained, imprisonment would certainly have been his fate; for he never could have held his tongue while witnessing the boundless folly and cruelty of the actions of these men. The Constitution of Eng- land may be summed up thus : " Everything is allowed ; except the following ;" while these wise statesmen were doing their utmost to make it like that of Prussia, which may be summed up thus: "Everything is forbidden; except the following." So, after writing a farewell address to the people of England, which he dictated on the evening before his departm-e, at the Register office in London, and in which he gives all his reasons for the step he was taking, he left London for Liverpool at five o'clock on the mornuig of the 22d of March, 1817, and on the 27th took passage on board of an American vessel bound for New York. He was accompanied by his two sons, William and John, and made arrangements for the remainder of his family CohJ>eU''s Takbuj Ledve of his Couuti-i/vi^en. 159 to follow liiiu ill the autumn. He reached New York May 5th, 1817, after a voyage of forty days. CHAPTER V. COBBETT's taking leave bF HIS COUNTRYMEN. This was such an important step in his career; its results were so serious, financially as well as politically : his reasons for it have been so strongly disputed, and his assertions concerning it so positively denied ; that I con- sider it necessary, first, to let him give his own accomit of the matter, and then notice what Mi'. Watson considers "the true reasons for his esca^ye to America." In the fai-ewell addi'ess above alluded to, he thus describes his position : "My BELOVED Countrymen, — Soon after this reaches your eyes, those of the writer will, possibly, have taken the last glimpse of the land that gave them birth, the land in which his parents lie bui'ied, the land of which he has always been so proud, the land in which he leaves a people whom he shall, to his last breath, love and esteem beyond all the rest of mankind. " Everyone, if he can do it without wrong to another, has a right to pursue the path to his own happiness ; as my hax)piness, however, has long been inseparable from the hope of assisting in restoring the rights and liberties of my country, nothing could have induced me to quit that country while there remained the smallest chance of my being able, by remaining, to continue to aid her cause. No such chance is now left. The laws which have just been passed, especially if we take into view the real ob- jects of those laws, forbid us to entertain the idea, that it would be possible to write on political subjects according 160 Life of William Cobbett. to the dictates of truth and reason, without drawing down on our heads certain and swift destruction. It was well observed by Mr. Brougham, in a late debate, that every writer who opposes the present measures ' must now feel that he sits down to write with a halter about his neck,'' — an observation the justice of which must be obvious to all the world. "Leaving, therefore, all considerations of personal interest, personal feeling, and personal safety; leaving even the peace of mind of a numerous and most affec- tionate family wholly out of view, I have reasoned thus with myself. What is now left to be done ! We have urged our claims with so much truth; we have estab- lished them so clearly on the gromid of both law and reason, that there is no answer to be found other than that of a suspension of our personal safety. If I still write in support of those claims, I must be blind not to see that a dungeon is my doom. If I write at all, and do not write in support of those claims, I not only degrade myself, but I do a great mjury to the rights of the nation by appearing to abandon them. If I remain here, I must therefore cease to write, either from compulsion or from a sense of duty to my countrymen ; therefore, it is impos- sible to do any good to the cause of my country by remaining in it ; but, if I remove to a country where I can vnite with perfect freedom, it is not only possible, but very probable, that I shall, sooner or later, be able to render that cause important and lasting services. " Upon this conclusion it is that I have made my deter- mination; for though life would be scarcely worth pre- serving with the consciousness that I walked about my fields, or slept in my bed, merely at the mercy of a Secre- tary of State ; though, under such circumstances, neither the song of the birds in spring nor the well-strawed homestead in winter could make me forget that I and my rising family were slaves, still there is something so CobbeWs Taking Jjeave of his Countrymen. IGl powerfiil iu the thought of country, and neighborhood, and home, and friends ; there is something so strong in the numerous and united ties with which these and end- less other objects fasten the mind to a long-mhabited spot, that to teai' one's self away nearly approaches to the separating of the soul from the body. But, then, on the other hand, when I asked myself — 'What! shall I submit in silence ? Shall I be as dumb as one of my horses'? Shall that indignation which bums within me be quenched % Shall I make no effort to preserve even the chance of assisting to better the lot of my unhappy country? Shall that mind which has communicated its light and warmth to millions of other minds now be extinguished for ever; and shall those who, with thou- sands of pens at their command, still saw the tide of opinion rolling more and more heavily against them, now be for ever secui-e from that pen, by the efforts of which they feared being overwhelmed ? Shall truth never agam be uttered % Shall her voice never again be heard, even from a distant shore % ' " Thus was the balance turned ; and, my countrymen, be»you well assured that though I shall, if I live, be at a distance from you; though the ocean will roll between us, not all the baniers which natiu'e as well as art can raise shall be sufficient to prevent you from reading some part, at least, of what I wiite; and, notwithstanding all the "s\^'ongs of which I justly complain; notwithstanding all the indignation that I feel; notwithstanding all the provocations that I have received, or that I may receive, never shall there di'op from my pen anything which, according to the laws of the land, I might not safely wi-ite and publish in England. Those who have felt theniselves supported by power have practised foul play towards me without measure, but though I shall have the means of retaliation in my hands, never will I follow theii' base example." 162 Life of William Cohhett. And then, fm-ther on, with reference to the suspension of the writ of Habeas Corpus, he says : " I do not retire from a combat with the Attorney-General, but from a combat with a dungeon, deprived of pen, ink, and i^aper. A combat with the Attorney-General is quite unequal enough. That, however, I would have encountered. I know too well what a trial by special fury is. Yet that, or any sort of trial, I would have stayed to face. So that I could have been sure of a trial of whatever sort, I would have run the risk. But, against the absolute power of imprisonment without even a heariyig, for time unlimited, in any jail in the kingdom, without the use of pen, ink, and paper, and without any communication with any soul but the keepers ; against such a power it would have been worse than madness to attempt to strive. Indeed, there could have been no striving in a case where I should have been as much at the disposal of the Secretary of State as are the shoes which he has upon his feet. No ! I shall go where I shall not be as the shoes upon Lord Sidmouth's and Lord Castlereagh's feet. I will go where I can make sure of the use of pen, ink, and paper ; and these two Lords may be equally sure that in spite of everything that they can do, unless they openly enact or proclaim a censorship of the press, or cut off all com- mercial communication with America, you, my good and faithful countrymen, shall be able to read what I write." Mr. Watson's Charge. 163 CHAPTER VI. MR. Watson's chaege. — sir francis burdett and his loan. After quoting j)art of tliis addi'ess, Mr. Watson says: " It is unpleasant to find that this statement, so plausibly •set forth, does not contain the full or even the true rea- sons for his escape to America. There was another, the strongest of all, to which he makes no allusion. Hitherto the reader may have seen cause to conceive of him as a thriving and prosperous man. He had made money in America, and, notwithstanding his losses through his libel on Rush, he had brought home sufficient to start him, as it seemed, in a fair way of business in London. He had been receiving, some time before his departure, a profit of fifteen hundred pounds a year, as he tells us, from his Register alone ; and he was ' tiuning,' as the mercantile expression is, twenty thousand a year by his various pub- lications. He had saved ©■nough, as early as 180C, to get into his hands the estate at Botley, of the value of forty thousand pounds ; and he seems to have lived there, as a farmer, comfortably but not extravagantly. He was there- fore considered, by a large portion of the public, to be in excellent pecuniary circumstances. But he had no sooner embarked on the Atlantic than it became known to eveiy- body that he was deeply siuik in debt. The great cause of his encumbrances appears to have been reckless ven- tures in printing and publishing." Then, after speaking of what speculations he seems to have made ; of his prob- able losses in establishing the Parliamentary History, Parhamentary Debates, and State Trials ; of his endeavors to establish a branch business in America, where he had sent his nephew for that purjpose ; of his having mort- gaged his estate for two-fifths the purchase-money, and of his having got into debt with the tradesmen with 164 Life of William Cohhett. whom lie was connected, Mr. Watson quotes an " authen- tic list " of his debts furnished to a writer in the Quar- terly Keview, amounting in all to £36,000, and then adds : "He had, therefore, other reasons for leaving England besides fear of the suspension of the Act of Habeas Corpus." AH this looks very bad for Cobbett ; indeed it seems quite staggering at first sight. But there is another side to the story; there are one or two very essential items left out of Mr. Watson's calculation ; and when these are considered, it will be found that the case is not nearly so bad as he represents it. It has been shown what Mr. Cobbett's debts amounted to, and an estimate is made of his income ; but no proper statement has been made of his assets, of the value of his real property as well as his literary property, the profits from the latter alone, with Cobbett at the head of it, were amply sufficient to provide him a livelihood and pay his debts. Cobbett himself de- clares, in his letter to Mr. John Hayes, that he was worth £70,000, and I think it can be shown he was not wrong in this statement. In one of the first letters he wrote from America he speaks of having left behmd him a farm covered with stock of all sorts; a home full of furniture; an estate which, with its improvements, had cost him £40,000, and which was mortgaged for less than £17,000 ; copyrights worth an immense sum, and a cm-rent income from his, writings of more than ten thousand pounds. In the first place, accepting the reviewer's statement as con-ect, it appears that about nine-tenths of his debts were owing to eleven persons or firms, from one of whom he had borrowed sixteen thousand pounds " on an estate of the value of forty thousand pounds," which estate, it will be observed, he had saved enough to purchase as eai-ly as 1806. Sixteen thousand on an estate of the value of forty thousand is not a heavy encumbrance. Now if it is true 3Ir. 'Wattionh Charge. 165 that he was eai'ning ten thousand a year from his various publications, was he not making enough to meet his HabiH- ties? Would we, in this country, consider a man of frugal habits, with an estate worth forty thousand, an income of ten thousand a year, and a debt of thirty-six thousand, m an insolvent condition '? Could anything be more pre- posterous % But it will be said we have only Cobbett's assertion for this statement of his income. There are, however, other circumstances that tend to prove the truth of his words. It is well known that his pubhcations sold immensely; he was perhaps, after his liberation from prison, more widely known, and his writings were more extensively read than those of any other man in Britain, excepting perhaps those of Sii' Walter Scott. Of his Addi'ess to the Journey- men and Laborers of England, for instance, 200,000 copies were sold, when he allowed everybody to print it. And it must be borne in mind he was both publisher and author of all his writings ; so that he had not only the lion's share of the profits, but the other share too, whatever that may be called. Even after he was gone, those which he sent to England had a very large sale ; witness his little Eng- Hsh Grammar, which he wrote in Long Island, and trans- mitted to his son for pubhcation ; of this work ten thou- sand copies were sold in the first month. The bare fact of his having saved the greater pai't of forty thousand jDOunds as early as 1806 shows how profita- ble his business must have been, and what a large sale he must have had for his writings. It is indeed amazing to observe what a height of prosperity he had attained by means of his strong pen. About a score of years j)revious to this, he was an under-ofiicer in the army with eighteen pence a day ; now, he was one of the most powerful and popular writers in the kingdom with an income of ten thousand pounds (fifty thousand dollai's) a year ! The Six Acts were passed, in fact, to reach him because of the 166 Life of William Gobbett. enormous sale and wide-spread influence of his writ- ings. He was really the leader, the spokesman of the masses of the English people. Nor did he express revo- lutionary or seditious sentiments, or incite the people to forcible resistance to the government. All he wanted was a reform of Parliament and a rectification of abuses. In his Address to the Journeymen and Laborers he shows that labor is the foundation of all wealth ; that the people therefore (whom the Tory papers called the swinish mul- titude) are the creators of that wealth; that riots and attacks on butchers and bakers and brewers are unjust and foolish ; that complaints at. lowering wages and the economizing efforts of employers, who themselves are often even worse off than the employed, are equally foolish ; and that the real cause of all their miseries lay in the enormous load of taxation, which could be removed only by a reformed Parliam^ent. Till the passage of the Six Acts, Cobbett was therefore not only solvent but prosperous ; his income was large and his manner of living frugal ; even Mr. Watson allows that he was not extravagant. Hence there is every reason to beHeve that he could easily have satisfied his creditors had he been left unmolested. Wliat justice then is there in the assertion that he ran away to escape his creditors? for that is what Mr. Watson's words mean. It is clearly false that he fled on accoimt of having brought commercial ruin on himself ; for never did his writings sell more exten- sively, never were his talents more in demand or more richly rewarded ; never was his income larger than at this time. I have been told of a German political agitator of 1848 who, after suffering close confinement for years in an Aus- trian dmigeon, was asked, long after his release, to join some young men in a liberal movement for the benefit of his country. Although the enterprise was not unlawful, or immediately dangerous, he constantly refused, saying, " They have never been in a dungeon ! " 3Ir. Watson^s Char versus Written Language? 231 V ^ ' peai's from the newspapers, was the first person presented to the king on that day, 'upon his return from Portugal upon leave of ahsenee.'' He must have enjoyed this scene. The thing was perfect in all its parts. Nothing ever was more so. The Londoners ' most humhly approach ' with a ' most humble and dutiful ' expression of ' assurances of attachment to His Majesty's most sacred person and goii- ernment;'' but then, immediately afterwai'ds, they fall to expressing opinions relative to the Convention in Portu- gal, and to praying that something or other may be done about it. "VMiereui^on they get a good hearty slap ; and then, being of the true breed, they all kneel down and fall to kissmg the hand by which it has been bestowed. To- wai'ds such people the king certainly acted with great propriety; for, if not only his person was the 'most sacred ' person, but his government also the ' most sacred ' government; if this was the case, what presvunption it was in these citizens to interfere in the exercise of the functions of either ! And if this was not the case, then the citizens' told a barefaced lie, and, as having done that, were well worthy of the rebuke they received. . . . I am glad, however, that they kissed the king's hand after he had given them what they deserved; because it showed that they were penitent; that they will come to their senses ; that they had seen the folly, not to say the impiety, of presuming to dictate to beings the 'most sacred' here below." All this, however, which is but playful banter, is only prepai'atory to what is coming ; for, on hetuing that the petitioners, when they got a great way off, grumbled at the king's answei*, notwithstanding they had kneeled down and kissed his hand, he suddenly turns on them in dead earnest, and exclaims : " ^Vhat ! they now whine and snivel because they are not treated as then- fathers Avere treated ? Theii- fathers were a different sort of men; their fathers would have de- 232 Life of William CohhetL V manded inquiry upon other occasions than the present; their fathers knew how to demand as well as to implore; their fathers were men widely different from them, and therefore they merited and received a treatment widely different. What ! is it till now that they have waited to discover that they are not what their fathers were ? Do they now complain of the Pitts and Hawkesburys ; they who have supported them in every thing for so many long and fatal years of decline of national pride and independ- ence? They, who have set up the howl of Jacobiu and traitor against every one who dared to move his tongue or* his pen in opposition to the acts and designs of the min- ister of the, day? They, who have voted, sjpeechified, and subscribed against every person who talked of freedom? They, who, whether in his making peace or in making war, approved of all, aye, all and every individual act of the late Pitt ? Do they now complaia of the operation of principles, acted upon by his legitimate heii's and suc- cessors ? ' Inquiry ! ' What right have such men to ask for inqmi'y? They, who have a hundred times voted against the principle of inquiry; they, who have been maintaining, for more than twenty yeai'S past, the doctrine of confidence and irresponsibility/ they who have, upon all occasions, represented as disaffected to the country every man who has wished for inquiry into the conduct of the government? What right have such men to ask for inquiry noio in particular ; and with what face can they complain that they are sharply rebuked for so doing? "Pity them, indeed! Not I: they have their just re- ward. If they had not acted a base and degenerate part for so many years, that which has now happened, that which has now at last urged them to ask for inquiry, never would have happened. It is 'in themselves, and not in their stars, that they are underlings.' . . . Whim- pering, whining creatures, as they are, it is truly a pretty jest to hear them at this day calliug for inquiiy ! No, no ; mm he Handles the ''Big Wigs:' 23.^ they must not hope to succeed in this way. It is too late fox* them to assume a new character. Oh, the base flat- terers! It stii-s one's gall to hear their complaints. Is there a man or a woman or a child, in power, or belonging to any one in power, whom they have not eulogized to the sides? Have they not praised all that has been done, and all that has been intended to be done, by every set of men who, for the time being, had the expending of the taxes ? Is not this the case? No man can deny that it is. Away with them and their complaints, then ! Let them howl to the winds ! " If this does not sound Hke spoken language, and very forcible spoken language too, I do not know what does. At all events, those pai'ticular London citizens, to whom he thus addi-esses himself, must have considei-ed it the most forcible language they were acquainted with, spoken or written. CHAPTER VI. HOW HE HANDLES THE "BIG WIGS." BTJEKE AND ADAM SMITH; PITT, FOX, AND PAINE. The following attack on two famous men will afford a good idea of his humorous-satmcal manner : "We now come to the astrologers^ Burke and Adam Smith. The former of these discovered, from the aspect of the stars, I suppose, several yeai'S ago, that taxes were like deios, which, rising up and forming themselves into clouds, fall again over the country in refreshmg showers. This was so delightful a discovery that this philosopher has, from that horn- to this, been a great favorite with every set of ministers, and with the whole of the 'Col- lective Wisdom ' in both branches, whether in leaf, flower and fnait-bearmg state, or in the winter of- opposition. 234 Life of William Oobbett. They all, from Mr. Bennett to Lord Castlereagh, call him, that '■ great man.'' Canning calls him 'the departed sage;'' and you frequently hear them quoting his words with as much reverence and solemnity as a Methodist parson quotes the Bible, This ^ great man^ made the discovery about the dews just after Pitt had caused a most refresh- ing and fructifying shower to fall upon this great Irish adventiH-er himself, who, for a pretty long life had been opposed to, if not outrageously abusing, Pitt and his predecessors ; but who, having become the most fulsome eulogist of Pitt, found fall upon him the contents of a cloud, sucked up from the dews of taxation, and consisting of three thousand pounds a year pension for himself, dm-- ing life ; twelve hundred pounds a year pension for his wife, dtuing her life after him; and two thousand five hundred pounds a year to be paid to his executors after his death, one half of it for three lives, and the other half of it for two lives, one of the lives on each half being still in existence ; and, of coiu-se, the two thousand five hundred pounds being still paid to those executors! "About seventy thousand pounds of principal money have dropped out of this cloud, collected together from the dews of taxation ! Well may the astrologer be called a ^ great man!'' Well may his doctrine have such a mul- titude of disciples ! Well may the Committee appeal to him with regard to another branch of astrology, connected with agricultural distress. This doctrine is that 'years of scarcity or plenty do not come alternately, but in. pretty large cycles, and irregxdarly .'' Doctor Adam Smith (most interesting to know !) has made the same discovery. Only to think of a '■pretty large cycle ! ' Well ; but that is not all. ' These ' cycles ' or rounds of years do not come reg- ularly, it seems, but irregularly. You will observe the word pretty before large. You will remember that a cycle means a periodical space of time : you will then observe that these periodical spaces of time come irregularly ; that How he JIandlefi the ''Tiuj Wigs." 235 is to say, not. periodically ; and then you will, I think, my good lords of the soil, have a jumble in yoiu* heads, a con- fusion of ideas, a bewilderment so complete as to drive oxit, if anj'ihing can, all thoughts of the fundholder. Good God ! to talk cycles of scai'city and of plenty ; to talk about unperiodical periods ; to send you to the stars un- der the guidance of gi-eat Irish and gi-eat Scotch philoso- phers ; when you are wanting to know when and how, in God's name, you should get at your rents ! " As a specimen of satu-e, I think this is capital; yet there is nothing in the whole history of Cobbett that sm-- prises me more than his want of appreciation of Adam Smith. It will be remembered he could make nothing of him when he studied his Wealth of JVations. Was Smith really too deep for him? Or was it his style that was displeasing to him? Or was it because he was a Scotch- man? For Cobbett was, like many Englishmen, very jeal- ous of Scotchmen. Here is another amusing, though somewhat coarsei-, attack on two equally famous men. "Wlien Pitt came into power, in 1784, the debt amounted to £250,000,000 and some odd thousands. The people were, at this time, fools, despicable fools, enough to be divided into two pai'ties. Pittites and Foxites ; nabies taken from two men, the first of whom was made by nature for a showman or an auctioneer, and the latter for a jovial companion of some one who had more money than could well be spent, even on the turf or at the gam- ing-table. Both had what is very Avell called the ' gift of the gab ;' both were descended from fathers who had fat- tened pretty well on the jDublic money ; both were second sons ; Pitt came after his brother, as claimant of the title and 2)er2)etual jycusiou given to liis father ; Fox came after his elder brother's son, to the title given to his, and he (Fox) was, and had been from his infancy, a shieeure placettia/t. They were both great talkers ; l)ut, as events 236 Life of William Cobhett. have proved, neitlier was fit to have the management of a nation's affairs, any more than any two tinselled chaps that you might snatch off a mountebank's stage. " They were talkers ; one was the ' English Cicero ' and the other the 'English Demosthenes.' The parsons, and other review and magazine and newspaper writers, placed themselves, some on the side of Cicero, for what was to be got then / others on the side of Demosthenes, for what might be got thereafter • and thus was the nation noodled along in the belief that it had the two greatest men in the world! Pitt began his career with a project iox paying off the national debt. Nothing could be more popular. The nation did not consider that it could never be paid off, unless the means came out of its property and labor ; that it could not be paid off by legerdemain. However, such was its anxiety to be relieved from the dreadful load, that, like the alarmed patient, it was ready to listen to any quackery. Pitt's scheme was, to raise a million a year in taxes, to form a Sinking Fund, which was to go on accumulating at compou7id interest^ and which would jt)ay off the debt in forty years ! Bravo ! ' Heaven-born min- ister ' came from every throat in the kingdom. ' What a man! What a surprising young man!' His father, ac- cording to Burke, was Elijah, and his son had ' caught the mantle ! ' The nation is now suffering, and has l6ng to suffer, for its follies of that day. Demosthenes, who opposed Cicero in everything else, joined him here, and proposed one of the clauses in the famous Bill; and there you heard the old conundrumites congratulating each other that these ' two great men had co-operated to bring to perfection this great national work!'' " Paine came soon afterwards, and told them that this scheme was a delusion: that it was taking out of one pocket and putting into the other ; that it was like set- ting a man with a wooden leg to run after a hare, and that the farther the man ran the farther he would be How he JTandles the ''Bi-, leaving the labor out of the question, and that is not a trifle." A more pleasant and profitable way of seeing a coimtry can hardly be imagined; nor a more pleasant description of it than that given in the Rides. But his account is now out of date, as he regai'ds everything from a political point of view, and many of the things he speaks of exist no longer. He gives, as I said, a poHtical twist to every- thing, even a beautiful landscape or the whooping-cough. "This pretty valley of Chilworth has a run of water which comes out of the high hills, and which occasionally spreads into a pond ; so that there is, in fact, a series of ponds connected by this run of water. This valley, which seems to have been created by a bountiful Providence as one of the choicest retreats of man, which seems formed for a scene of innocence and happiness, has been, by un- gi'ateful man, so perverted as to mtike it instrumental in effecting two of the most damnable purposes ; in cai'rying into execution two of the most wicked inventions that ever sprang from the mind of man under the influence of the de\-il! namely, the making of (junpoimler and of bank- 11 242 Life of WUUa?n Cobbett. notes. Here in this tranquil spot, where the nightingales are to be heard earlier and later in the year than in any other part of England; where the first bursting of the buds is seen in spring ; where no rigor of season can ever be felt; where everything seems formed for precluding the very thought of wickedness ; this spot has the devil fixed on as one of the seats of his grand manufactory, and perverse and ungrateful man not only lends him his aid, but lends it cheerfully. ... To think that the springs which God has commanded to flow from the sides of these happy hills for the comfort and the delight of man ; to think that these springs should be perverted into means of spreading misery over a whole nation ; and that, too, under the base and hypocritical pretence of promoting its credit axidirisimtsiinmg lis honor And faith/''' . . . "Ever since the middle of March, I have been trying remedies for the whooping-cough, and have, I believe, tried everything, except riding, wet to the skin, two or three hours amongst the clouds on the South Downs. This remedy is now under trial/ or, as Lord Liverpool said, the other day of the L'ish Tithe Bill, it is ^ under experiment.' I am treating my disorder (with better suc- cess, I hope), in somewhat the same way that the pretty fellows at Whitehall treat the disorders of poor Ireland." CHAPTER VIII. HOW COBBETT COULD PRAISE. INTERVIEW WITH A CHIMNEY- SWEEP. — canning's "instinctive patriotism." Heartily and unsparingly as Cobbett could lash those whom he thought wrong, he could praise with equal heartiness those whom he thought right. The following pleasing passage from the Rural Rides will show this pretty plainly. He is speaking of an estate called Weston IToio Cohhett Could Praise. 243 Grove, neai* Netley Abbey, and of its owner, Mr. Cham- berlayne : " Every thing that Natui'e can do has been done here ; and money most judiciously employed, has come to her assistimce. Here are a thousand things to give pleasui'e to any rational mind; but there is one thing which, in my estimation, surpasses, in the pleasui*e of contemplating, all the la^vns and all the groves, and all the gardens and all the game, and everything else ; and that is, the real unaf- fected goodness of the owner of the estate. He is mem- ber of Pai'hament for Southampton; he has other fine estates ; he has great talents ; he is much admii'ed by all who know him ; but he has done more by his justice, by his just way of thinking with regard to the laboring people, than in all other ways put together. This was nothing new to me, for I was well informed of it several years ago. though I had never heai'd him speak of it in my life. "WTien he came to this place, the common wages of day- laboring men were thirteen shillings a week, and the wages of cai'penters, bricklayers, and other mechanics Avere in proportion. These wages he has given, from that time to this, without any abatement whatever. "With these wages a man can live, having at the same time other advantages attending the working for such a man as ]\Ii'. Chamberlayne. He has got less money in his bags than he would have had if he had ground men down in their wages ; but if his sleep be not sounder than that of the close-fisted wi'etch that can walk over grass and gi'avel, kept in order by a poor creature who is half-starved; if his sleep be not sounder than the sleep of such a wretch, then all that we have been taught is false, and there is no difference between the man who feeds and the man who stai"Aes the poor. ... " I know of no county where the poor ai*e worse treated than in many parts of this county of Hants. It is good to know of one instance in which they ai'e well treated ; and 244 ■ Life of William Gobbett. I deem it a real honor to be under tlie roof of liim who has uniformly set so laudable an example in this most important concern. "What are all his riches to me? They form no title to my respect. 'Tis not for me to set myself up in judgment as to his taste, his learning, his various qualities and endowments ; but of these, his unequivocal works, I am a competent judge. I know how much good he must do ; and there is a great satisfaction in reflecting on the great happiness he must feel when, laying his head upon his pillow of a cold and dreary winter night, he reflects that there are scores — aye, scores upon scores — of his country people, of his poor neighbors, of those whom the Scrij^tiue denominates his brethren, who have been enabled, through him, to retue to a warm bed after spend- ing a cheerful evening, and taking a full meal by the side of their own fire. People may say what they will about happiness, but I can figure to myself no happiness sur- passing that of the man who falls to sleep with reflections like these in his mind. " Now, observe, it is a duty on my part to relate what I have here related of Mr. Chamber layne ; not a duty to- wards him, for I can do him no good by it, and I do most sincerely believe that both he and his equally benevolent sister would rather that their goodness remained unpro- claimed ; but it is a duty towards my country, and par- ticularly towards my readers. Here is a striking and a most valuable practical example. Here is a whole neigh- borhood of laborers living as they ought to live ; enjoying that happiness which is the just reward of their toil. And shall I suppress facts so honorable to those who are the causes of this hajDpiness — facts so interesting in them- selves, and so likely to be useful in the way of example ; shall I do this, aye, and besides this, tacitly give a false account of Weston Grove, from the stupid and cowardly fear of being accused of flatteiing a rich man ? " In order to illustrate his argument, Cobbett often hap- T/itej-v/'eir trif/i a Cliltuney-nvseep. 24/) pily aviiils himself of some passing incident, some acci- dental cii'cuiusttuu'e occurring while he is wxiting. This is the way in which a competent teacher conveys instruc- tion : he seizes upon whatever is nearest at hand to illus- trate or enforce the matter in consideration. "NVliile showing (1821) that prices ai-e falling; that the reduction of wages is ceasmg ; that the laborer is getting his due again ; and "that the employer will never be able to get him down in proportion to the fall in food " — (in fact, the very state of things which recently presented itself in the United States) — he illustrates the subject by the following mcident : *■' Only this very morning, a chimney-sweeper, who had swept my kitchen-chimney, came to my study (none of the rest of the family being up) to be paid his eighteen 2yence. '"Eighteen pence! Is not that a good deal"?' 'I have had that price /or years for sweepuag that chimney.' " ' Yes ; and that's the very reason why you ought not to have so much now.'' 'Why so, su-?' "'"NVliy? ^\Tiy, eighteen pence will now buy twice as much bread as it bought then.' ' I don't knov^ anything about that, su"; but, then, think of the sootf " ' Soot ! what is the soot to me. You have it now, and you could no more than have it before.' 'Aye, su*, but I used to sell it for 20f?. a bushel. I used to have it bought up faster than I could get it ; and now I have got wagon- loads, and can not get Id. for it.' " ' So, then, as sweejD you gain, and as soot-merchant you lose.' ' Just so, su-.' " ' Here, then, take your eighteen pence. But (calling him back) what do people do without yom* soot now'?' ' I don't know, I'm sure ; but I 'spose they have got no money, now things be low, and that they pay men in vic- tuals, and till the ground more, and don't buy soot.' '• ' There ! there ! ' said I, ' say no more ; you ai"e no 246 Life of William. Oobhett. sweep, you are a philosopher. Go ; go to Scarlett ! for God's sake go to Scaelett ! ' '■Scarlett!'' said he. " ' Aye,' said I, ' it is not any thing of that color; it is a man; and his dress very much resembles yours, except his wig, which ought to have under it a little of what you have got in that black head of yours.' ' Oh,' said he, drawing down his chin, turning up the whites of his eyes, and smiling, ' I 'spose you mean a lawyer / ' And giving himself a gentle turn, as much as to say, ' no, thank ye ! ' off he walked to his soot-bag, with his 18f?. in his pocket."' How often has Cobbett exposed the confusion of ideas, the incoherent jumbling of unsuitable things, which was so common among the orators of the day ! What havoc he made with Johnson's sonorous and pretentious sen- tences ! He had, like Wellington, a remarkable power of detecting the blunders and weaknesses of the enemy. We have seen how strikingly he showed the absurdity of Burke's '•'•pretty large cycles;" and many another famous orator he tripped up in a similar manner. When Canning, for instance, spoke of the people's attachment to the soil as " instinctive patriotism," Cobbett observed that instinct was a quality peculiar to animals, and that such patriotism was really nothing more than a heast-like feeling, a cattle- like attachment to the eai'th. "Thus neat-cattle and pigs," says he, " though better fed and lodged in a new situation, are always hankering after the place where they were bred. An 'instinctive patriot' of this sort lately found its way from Botley to Eingwood, in spite of hedges and turnpike roads." We may be sure. Canning never spoke of instinctive patriotism after that. Cobbett thought rightly that the attachment of people to their native country is founded in their love of the laws, the institutions, the fame of that country, or in the value which they set upon the reputation, the security, the freedom from oppression, and the happiness which they derive from belonging to that country. Still we Aiialysis of a Prince's Letter. 247 certainly do love the very soil on which we were born and bred ; for there ai'e some people who have nothing else to love in then- country, and yet love it all the more for its very misery. "Wliat part have the laws, the insti- tutions, the security, and the freedom of his country in the Polander's love of Poland'? or, in the Ii'ishman's love of Ireland"? It is the associations, the recollections of the happy, youthful days we have spent on native soil, that causes this love. Cobbett elsewhere defines patriotism as having its foimdation "in that anxious desu-e which every man of sound sense aad honest natiu-e has to see pre- sen'ed untaiiiished the reputation of that country which he is obliged to own, whose name he can never shake off, fi'om whose calamities he may possibly flee, but in all whose disgraces he must inevitably share." If this is true, what deep disgrace every honest Irishman must feel at the endless aiTay of atrocious miu'ders and assassina- tions that have lately stained the soil of Ireland ! CHAPTER IX. ANALYSIS OF A PKINCe's LETTER. How clearly and sharply he brings out the real signifi- cance of the Duke of York's letter to the Sj^eaker of the House of Commons ! The reader will remember that the duke was found guilty of clandestinely selling commis- sions in the army, and approiDriating the proceeds to his own use and that of his mistress. I have heai'd of a Rus- sian grand-duke who, in the late war with Turnkey, re- ceived fi'om two Jews an enormous sum for secui*ing to them the contract for provisioning the ai*my. Talk of the corruptions of republicans! Why, their pickings are nothing compai'ed with the enormous sweepstakes of these royal rascals. For " tricks that ai'e vaiu and ways that 248 TJfe of WiUiam Cobhett. are dark," comraend me to the gentry of this ilk. The Duke of York, in his letter to the Speaker, declares, "upon his honor, as a prince, his innocence in these corrupt transactions," and that he had not " the slightest knowledge or suspicion that they existed at all," and " con- fidently hoped " that the House of Commons would not "adopt any proceedings prejudicial to his honor;" yet that if the House should consider his "innocence ques- tionable," he claimed of their justice that he "should not be condemned without trial, or be deprived of the benefit and protection which*' is afforded to every British subject ... in the ordinary administration of the law." One of the members spoke of this letter as an attack on the privileges of the House, which was denied by Mr. Perceval, who maintained that the duke merely asserted his innocence, and requested that, should that innocence still be doubted, he might be allowed to go to trial, without any further proceedings against him ; in all of which he (Mr. Perceval) saw nothing unconstitutional or improper. Upon which Cobbett remarks : "No? Well said, Mr. Perceval! It may be 'constitu- tional,' for that is a very accommodating word; and it may be ' proper ' too ; but if the letter has any meaning at all in it, it is this : that the House will do wrong, that they will be guilty of an act of injustice, if they take any step in the business prejudicial to the duke ; and that, at most, they ought to leave his conduct to be judged of by others than themselves. This, indeed, is admitted by JMr. Perceval; it can not be denied; and if this be not dic- tating to the House what they ought, or rather what they ought not, to do, I know not the meaning of the word dictate. There may have been letters sent by accused persons to the House of Commons, but I defy Mr. Perce- val to produce an instance of such a letter as this ; a letter expressing a ' confident hope ' that the House, who have taken evidence upon the case, will not, to the prejudice Analysis of a Prince's Letter. 240 of the accused, proceed to any step gi-ounded uj-ton that evidence. Then, observe, the whole of the evidence taken by the House, and many parts of which great numbers of the members have expressly declared to be unshaken, — the whole of this evidence, in a lump, not excepting even that contained in his own letters and note, is branded as false by the party accused. He presumes, before the summing up has taken place in the House, to tell them how they ought to decide upon the quality of the evi- dence; he, upon his bai"e word, and without pretending to possess the means oi proving '9^\xQk, he says, takes upon him to tell the House that they ought to regard as a hai" eveiy person who has given evidence against him ! . . . Well, the duke has had his vnsh in regard to the mode of Inquiry. The inquu-y is over. It has taken place. It is closed. And what does he now, in his own name, and under his own hand, tell this same House of Commons ? "Why, that he has thus far been 'deprived,' aye, '■deprived^ of what IMi-. AVardle and IVIi'. Wilberforce and Mr. Folke- stone, contrai-y to his wishes, expressed by Sir. Perceval, wanted him to have; and, upon the ground of this de- privation, amongst other gi'ounds, he desii'es the House not to adopt any proceeding prejudicial to his honor, though he a2)pears to have no sort of objection to their acquitting hlin. This, I think, does very far surpass everything of the sort that I ever heard of in all my life. I have seen many remarkable ijistances of the presumj)tion of power ; but anything like this, or neai'ly approaching a resemblante to it, I never before witnessed." The duke and his friends, no doubt, thought the very same thing of the presumption of the press; and they lost no time in causing an editor who dared to speak so presumptuously of a person of such high character to be put in his proper place, viz., a dungeon. 11* 250 Life of William Cobbett. GHAPTEE X. HIS DEFENCE OF THE LABOEING CLASSES. Although politics was Cobbett's chief study, there is nothing that he loved better, nothing that he was better acquainted with, than agriculture. He was very fond of books on agriculture ; of agricultural experiments ; of in- troducing exotic plants into England; of initiating his children into all the mysteries of agriculture. And — as has been observed by his biographer of 1835 — among all his political and personal changes, among all his varia- tions of creed and company, there is one class that he ever faithfully adhered to, on whose side he ever battled bravely, in whose interest he spent almost the last hours of hfe — the tillers of the soil, the farmers and farm- laborers of England. In the interest of this class his very best and most effective writings were produced ; for there was nothing he thought more of, nothing he appre- ciated more highly (as we have seen in his praise of Mr. Chamberlayne), than the improvement of the conditions of the laboring poor; and he never wrote better than when he explained or described something connected with farming or the Hfe of the farmer. "It was natural that rural affairs," says Mr. Edward Smith, " in which he delighted, and amongst which he heartily believed that the highest domestic felicity was to be found, should derive from his pen the highest charms. There never lived, probably, a writer equal to' Cobbett iu rural description : one who could, in the midst of some angry polemic, so readily turn off .for a moment and pre- sent his reader with a country picture ; perfectly life-like, glowing with color and realism ; who could make a mere gardening-book entertaining." No sooner does he come to speak of the farmer than he instantly displays an earnestness, a soHcitude for his wel- Jlis Defence of the Jjuborhig Classen. 251 fare, that betrays a dii'ect, a personal interest in liim. Take, for example, the follo\%ing passage from his Letter to IMi'. Hayes, which is the last of our extended quota- tions, and -which, I think, cannot be surpassed for force of expression, clearness of statement, and vehemence of feeUng : " Let us hope that this Bill [Lawyer Scarlett's Celibacy Bill, 1821, which was intended to check the breeding of childi'en] is the last of the unnatural offspring of that ac- cm'sed paper-money system, which has, as I have clearly proved, stai-ved and degraded the laboring classes of Eng- land. Many thousands who have supported this system have not been awai'e of the manner in which it worked, and from these I will not be so unjust as to exempt the ministers themselves, Pitt and all ; for it is impossible to believe that human beings could have intentionally in- vented and fostered so cruel and hellish a system. The ministers ai'e doing all they can do to restore us to hap- piness; for to talk of happiness, r^a^AOXidX prosperity and happiness, while millions are in a state of stai'vation and degradation, is almost blasphemy. The ministers, in spite of all the base endeavors to intimidate them, have given \us gold and a return to o. just balance for the laborer. . . . As for me, who has so much to forgive as I have? Who has been so persecuted by this long train of Pittite ministers 1 Yet, so grateful do I feel for the good now done to the laboring classes, that I fi'eely forgive them ; yea, Sidmouth and all; and I am not a little pleased at the thought that he (Canning) who made a jest of 'the revered and ruptured Ogden,' has withdi-awn himself from all participation in this forgiveness-demanding spuit. The ministers may, nay they must have been deceived ; they were dazzled with the splendid effects of a plunder of the laboring classes. I, myself, in the eai'ly pai't of my writing life, was deceived in the same way; but when, in 1814, I revisited the English laborer's dwelling, and that, 252 Life of William Cobbett. too, after having so recently witnessed the happiness of laborers in America ; when I saw that the clocJc was gone ; that even the Sunday coat was gone ; when I saw that those whom I had known the most neat, cheerful, and happy beings on earth, and these my own countrymen, too, had become the most wretched and forlorn of human beings, I looked seriously and inquired patiently into the matter ; and this inquiry into the causes of an effect which had so deep an impression on my mind, led to that series of ex- ertions which have occupied ony whole life since that time, to better the lot of the laborers. The unprincipled, ma- lignant, and brazen villains, who fatten under the wings of corruption, have accused me of inconsistency. There are the thirty-eight volumes of the Register. Let them say whether I have not constantly been laboring, for nine- teen years, to eifect such a change as should tend to restore the laboring classes to a state of happiness. Let those volumes say whether I have been fickle ; whether I have changed and chopped about. Let those volumes say whether the great and ever prevailing burden of my complaints has not been, the ruin, the starvation, the deg- radation, of the English laboring classes by the means of taxation co-operating with an infernal paper-money system. For many reasons have I hated and detested the system. I have hated it because it gave a predomin- ance to suddenly-acqmred wealth ; because it caused Jews, jobbers, loan-mongers, East India adventurers, and all sorts of vermin to come and domineer over the people; because it destroyed English hospitality ; because it took from the people their natural magistrates and put unfeel- ing wretches in their stead ; because, to answer its fiscal pui-poses, it took away, in numerous cases, the trial by jury ; because it hardened all the laws ; because it made thousands the victuns of irresistible temptation to imitate the base fabric of paper-money ; because it engendered a race of spies and informers so abhorrent to the Enghsh Ifis Minious '■'■ History of tlie Refonnatlony 253 heart : for these, and many other reasons, I have detested the system; but my great and nevei'-ceasing subject of complaint has been that it starved and degraded the labor- ing classes of England. " To this great sin of the system I have hung like a bull-dog ; for the whole nineteen years I have never quitted my hold. And at last I see the object of my labors about to be accomplished. I have never been act- uated by any party motive ; never have felt hostility to the Government, as government / never have I desired to see, but always have desired not to see, a revolution in the bad sense of the word. But I have been, and I am, for anything that will restore the laboring classes to that happiness which I, in my youth, saw them enjoy, and which I enjoyed with them. If the laboring classes be to perish, perish, I say, the whole nation ! " CHAPTER XI. HIS FAMOUS "HISTOKY OF THE REFOKMATION." Cobbett's favorite form of addi-ess is the letter; his gi'ammars, his histories, his political ai'ticles, ai'e all put into this form. He loved to have some individual, some representative or mai'ked person, to whom he could speak ; the general pubUc was too vague for him. It cannot be denied that this form of address has some advantages over that of addfessing the pubHc in general : the text for the discourse is fui-nislied; the aim or object is dii-ect and plain ; the point of view is distinctly marked and limited ; the interest is heightened. If a public man made a re- markable speech, or did a remaikable deed, Cobbett, instead of giving the substance of the speech, or record- ing the deed, and commenting on it imj^ersonally, ad- dressed a letter to the speaker or doer himself, in which 254 Life of William Oobbett. he singled out whatever he thought praiseworthy or blameworthy, and spoke his mind to the party as freely and openly as if he had been talking face to face with him ; with the advantage of having all the talk on his own side. There is, besides, a direct interest for the reader in a com- position of this character ; for there is something of the nature of a challenge or personal encounter in it. How striking and piquant most of those letters are ! No mat- ter to whom addressed, or what the object aimed at ; no matter how dry or insipid the subject, Cobbett's facile pen clothed the person and the subject with interest, and lent freshness and flavor to all he touched. Cobbett's most famous book, the one of which the most copies have been sold, and which has been translated into many languages, is also in the form of letters : I refer to his History of the Reformation in England, which is ad- dressed to "all sensible and just Englishmen.'" Notwith- standing its fame and popularity among a certain class, this history is, m my opinion, the work that does least credit to his hterary reputation, and least honor to his knowledge, judgment, and truthfulness. It has been said of Cobbett that it was enough for him to get a thorough grip of one side of a question ; about the other side he did not trouble himself.* This is true, it must be con- fessed, with respect to many of his writings ; but in none is this peculiarity so strongly marked, so strikingly dis- played as in this his so-called History of the Reformation. He here shows himself not only one-sided, partisan, and narrow in his views ; but virulent and unfair in his asser- tions. He is the impassioned advocate of the Cathohcs, forgetting everything but his clients, earnestly and ve- hemently pleading for them, and moving heaven and earth to prove them saints, and theu' opponents devils ; not an impartial historian, faithfully recording the facts of his- • '■ 1 * Encyclopedia Britannica ; art. Cobbett. His I<\iinoi(fi •' Ilistonj <\f the Reformation.^ 255 toiy. He goes beyond all proper bounds in his denun- ciation of some chaxacters and in his praises of others ; and his denunciations are levelled against those who have, by neai-ly all other liistorians, been considered worthy of esteem, and his praises are of those who have, by nearly all other historians, been considered worthy of rej)robation. This is chai'acteristic of hun ; for he never went half-way in anything, and he always had a strong inclination to attack and condemn Avhat all the world praised. His de- nmiciations ai"e passionate, sweephig, violent ; there is not a particle of goodness or truth in those he condemns, and nothing but vii'tue and saintliness in those he praises. He could see nothing in all the Reformers but a parcel of plunder-lo-sdng scoundi'els, and nothing in all the Romish leaders but a body of the most pui'e-minded, philanthropic, disinterested, and saintly citizens. In fact, there prob- ably never was produced a more one-sided, luimitigatedly pai'tial performance than this book of Cobbett's ; nor is there any other work containing so many coarse epithets, so many bitter, scathing, scorchmg denunciations of men and measui'es. He is constantly boiling over with rage at the destroyers of monasteries and nunneries, and con- demns them with an unsparingness of abuse and vehe- mence of language unparalleled by any wiiter, ancient or modem. If I should speak in the language of Cobbett hunself, I should say that his work was a mean, mer- cenai-y, and maHgnant attack upon men of the noblest, bravest, and manliest chai'acter, and that it was crammed with measui'eless Hes and atrocious calumnies, j^rompted by selfish greed and insatiable vanity. But this will never do ; I must not speak of it in this maimer, for I am not at all sui'e that he had any but laud- able motives in writing the book. If we could transport ourselves back to his day and generation, we should per- haps view the matter a little more leniently. He has been accused of selHng himself to the pope; of being in 256 Life of Williani Cobbett. the pay of the Roman Catholics ; of aiming at being re- turned to Parliament from Ireland ; and so on ; but this is all nonsense, The book was written when Cathohcs in England were excluded from almost every pohtical privi- lege, deprived of almost every civil right, and when the great agitation in their favor was at its height. Cobbett sympathized with them, as he did with all who were un- fairly dealt with, and he endeavored to help them to their rights by showing Protestant Englishmen that Catholics had done some very noble things in their time, and were not at all such a dangerous class of people as they were supposed to be, and as he himself once supposed them to be. His aim, therefore, seems to have been to help the Cath- olics to their rights by removing the prejudices against them from the minds of Englishmen ; and it is probable that his work aided in causing the passage of the famous Catholic Emancipation Bill, which took place (1829) four years after the publication of his book, and which secured to Catholics most of the privileges enjoyed by Protestants. In the same year that he wrote this work, he wi'ote an eloquent paper, entitled "Appeal of the Catholics of Ire- land to the People of England," which was signed by Mr. O'Gorman, Secretary to the Catholics in Ireland, and which was in this shape extensively published in England. The aim, therefore, was a noble one ; its effect was a good one ; but the spirit of the work was a false one. It can not be regarded as anything else than a party pamphlet, written in the heat of political discussion. Macaulay's History of England has been sarcastically termed a " huge Whig pamphlet." Cobbett's History of the Reformation may, without any sarcasm at all, be termed a fiercely par- tisan popish pamphlet. It is composed in a sjDiiit of in- fatuation : the author is possessed with the idea that all previous historians are villains and scoundrels, who have written for nothing but pay and place, and that he alone is capable of taking an honest, fan* view of thmgs : conse- His l^iutious ^'■fll story of the Reformation!''' 257 quently he takes the coutrary of neaily all their assertions as neai-est the truth. It is a well-knowu fact that the ablest men sometimes lose their heads through infatuation at their success. Of this, there cannot be a more striking example than that of om" own Senator Conlding, who, on being re-elected to the Senate of the United States, foolishly resigned his seat, "with the expectation that he Avould be immediately returned, and thus compel President Garfield to grant his MT.shes. Did not success, and overweening pride at his success, cause him to lose his head ? Napoleon finally came to believe himself invincible, and refused to hsten to reason or ai'gument mth reference to his final and fatal expedition to Russia. Cobbclt seems to have got into something of the same state of mind when he undertook this ecclesiastical-historical expedition ; for he would be- hove in nothing but his own conceptions on the subject. Macaulay — who speaks of reading Cobbett " with pleas- lu'e, delight, and abhon-ence"' — supposes that he, like Rousseau, was, in his latter days, possessed with the hal- lucination that all the world had combined against him, in order to falsify the truth and twist everything wrong. Cobbett, however, knew what he was about ; there is no mistaking his meaning ; there is, unquestionably, " method in his madness ;" and his object is perfectly clear. Ac- cording to him, all existing things in England are wi'ong ; every change that has been made for the last thi'ee hun- ch'ed years is for the worse ; the age when Cathohcism was supreme was the golden age in England ; the people had plenty to eat ; there was no beggary, no pauperism, no crime ; the physical and moral condition of the people was far- better than after the Reformation. He does not maintain that Catholic doctrines are superior to Protestant ones; but that the effect of the Catholic ordinances on the people, on their physical and moral welfare, was fai* superior to that of the Protestant ordinances. 258 Life of William Cobbett. Now, even if this were proved ; even if it were demon- strated that the people of England were, in the sixteenth century, physically better off than they were in the be- ginning of the nineteenth century, it would not amount to much. The latter was the period immediately following the long and exhausting Napoleonic wai's, when the Eng- lish people were crushed by enormous taxes on everything on the earth, under the earth, and in the heavens above ; when almost the very air they breathed was taxed to pay the interest on the enormous war debt, incurred by Pitt's incapacity ; when, in short, the great mass of the people were turned into a race of paupers through the boundless stupidity of that statesman and his satellites. The Pro- testant Reformation had nothing whatever to do with this state of thmgs And as to the material welfare of Pro- testants and Cathoh'cs at the present day, it would notZ^a difficult to point out, in the same country, prosperous and happy Protestant communities in striking contrast with poor and wretched Catholic ones : this, in fact, is the rule ; the opposite, the exception. But I do not think that the pleasing pictm-e of a healthy and happy people which Cobbett di-ew, as the residt of his middle-age studies, is at all correct; for those who have studied deeper, who have made a special study of this age, draw a very differ- ent picture. Professor Draper, for instance, in his " Intel- lectual Development of Eiurope," shows that, through want of knowledge, sanitary and moral; through want of drainage and other modern sanitary improvements; through shrine-cure practices and others equally absurd ; through all these, the misery and suffering, the plagues and pestilences, the destitution, disease, and death, amongst the masses of the people in the middle ages, were enormous ; so great, that it took five hundred years for the population to double. ^Vhereas, in modern Pro- testant England — but not in modern Catholic France, or Spain, or Mexico, or South America — the population ///.•.' Famous '■^History of the Reformation^ 250 doubles every fifty years, notwithstanding the enormous emigration of her people to all pai'ts of the world. Cobbett failed to see any of the long train of circum- stances leading to the Reformation ; he failed to see that it was not simply lui English but a Eui'opean movement; that no rulers ever could have caiiied out and perpetuated such a radical sweeping change unless it was supported, nay, demanded by the people ; he failed to see any of the thousand miseries and sufleriugs endui-ed by the people dui-ing the middle-ages ; the deep-seated and constantly- increasing dissatisfaction with the priesthood, which reached away back to the time of Wickliffe and Chaucer ; the huge murderous dead-weight of the inquisition, which smothered all free thought and prevented all scientific progress; he failed to see the intellectual and spiritual deadness resulting from subserviency to one ecclesiastical system ; the necessity of intellectual hberty, of the right of private judgment, and the impossibility of all Europe remaining for ever in one and the same naiTOw cu'cle of ideas — in short, he failed to see that the causes of the Refoi'mation lay much deeper, and were much longer working, than could be accounted for by the mere caprice or viciousness of the ruler of the day. Cobbett considered the whole matter in England as the result of the lust and cupidity of Heniy YIII., and seems to think that if that monarch had not existed, or had not broken away from the Pope, the Reformation in England would never have taken place. Had he done, had he been able to do, what Macaulay says an historian must do, in order to get a coiTect idea of any age or people ; had he soaked his mind with the literature of that period ; had he made himself thoroughly acquainted with the original documents of that period, he would certainly have come to a different conclusion. But Cobbett could not do this, if he would : he had no knowledge of the language, in which all the documents prior to the Reformation, and 260 Life of William Cohhett. many subsequent to it, are written; lie knew nothing of Latin ; so that all the real history of the period was a sealed book to him. Nor had he the time to study this literature, even if he had acquired a knowledge of the language. His eyes were so intensely riveted on the then present state of things in England that he could not see into the past. In fact, he was in every way un- fitted for the task; disposition, character, knowledge, leisrure, all of these failed in his case ; his character and acquirements were all of the wrong sort for an historian, who must be calm, impartial, broadly cultiu^ed, master of many languages, capable of the very broadest and most tolerant views, possessing the most patient, the most untiling, the most wide and deep-searching industry. Cobbett was too busy with his various printing, publish- ing, and political schemes ; too busy unmasking the plun- derers and place-hunters of his own day, to study original documents and to go deep into the past; he could not possibly find time for such work ; so he made up his mind to rrm full tilt against everything Englishmen had believed in for centuries, to carry all before him in one fell swooj) ; and he dispatched the history of perhaps the most import- ant period in the world's annals in sixteen letters, written, most likely, in sixteen weeks ! CHAPTER XII. THE SAND-HILL AS AN EDUCATOK. A PEETTY FAMILY PICTURE. One cannot help wondering what manner of man Cob- bett would have made had he received a thorough training in classical or scientific knowledge. Giant as he was in his unaided natural strength, what would he have been, had he undergone in youth a first-class mental drUl ! I have not a doubt but he would have been a reformer then The Sand- Hill as an Educator. 261 too, and a much wiser one, escaping all those fearful blunders he fell into, those raw, unsifted, dogmatic, ontre theories of his. He would have seen things from a broader, larger point of view, and meastu-ed men and their actions with a more liberal gauge than he was accus- tomed to do. But vain is all speculation ; universities do not always produce the best men ; they do not always tvu^n out liberal, cultvu'ed, and useful men ; and Cobbett' might indeed have been a much more learned, much more finely cultm-ed man than he was, without being half so useful, had he received a classical education. An appren- ticeship to work, hard unceasing work, is sometimes the very best training a young man can receive; for every- thing dejiends on the productive chai'acter of the man. It is evident that Cobbett himself thought so, too. He went, on one occasion, with one of his sons, to see the school where he got " the rudiments of his education," and he gives this charactexistic account of it : " There is a little hop-garden in which I used to work, when from eight to ten years old; from which I have scores of times run to follow the hounds, leavmg the hoe to do the best that it could to destroy the weeds ; but the most interesting thing is a sand-hill, which goes from a part of the heath down to the rivulet. As a due mixtui-e of pleasure with toil, I with two brothers used occasion- ally to disport ourselves, as the lawyers call it, at this sand-hill. Oui* diversion was this: we used to go to the top of the hill, wliich was steeper than the roof of a house ; one used to di'aw his arms out of the sleeves of liis smock-frock, and lay himself down with liis arms by his sides ; and then the others, one at head and the other at feet, sent him rolling down the hill, like a barrel or a log of wood. By the time he got to the bottom, his hau-, eyes, ears, nose and mouth were all full of this loose sand; then the others took their tiuii ; and at every roll, there was a monsti'ous peal of laughter. 262 Life of William Cohhett. "I liad often told my sons of this while they were very little, and I now took one of them to see the spot. But that was not all. This was the spot where I was receiv- ing my education; and this was the sort of education; and I am perfectly satisfied that if I had not received such an education, or something very much like it ; that, if I had been brought up a milksop with a nursery-maid everlastingly at my heels, I should have been at this day as great a fool, as inefficient a mortal, as any of those frivolous idiots that are tm-ned out from Winchester or "Westminster school, or from any of those dens of dunces called colleges and universities. It is impossible to say how much I owe to that sand-hUl ; and I went to retm-n it my thanks for the ability which it jDrobably gave me to be one of the greatest terrors, to one of the greatest and most powerful bodies of knaves and fools, that ever was permitted to afflict this or any other country." He endeavored to give the same muscular education to his children, not one of whom did he ever in his hfe, he says, order to look into a book. Not that he did not value book-knowledge, but he taught them in a manner pecuhar to himself. What a contrast the home of his children presented to that of some of the childi'en in Dickens's stories ! He is speaking, in his Advice, of the taste for the pleasures of the field and the garden, which he had implanted in them : " Luckily these things were treated of in hooks and pictures of endless variety; so that, on wet days, in long evenings, these came into play. A large, strong table, in the middle of the room, their mother sitting at her work, used to be surrounded with them; the baby, if big enough, being set up in a high chau'. Here were inkstands, pens, pencils, india-rubber, and paper, all in abundance, and every one scrabbled about as he or she pleased. There were prints of animals of all sorts ; books treating of them ; others treating of gardening, of flowers, of husbandly, of hmiting, coursing. ISelf- esteem. 2G3 shooting, fishing, planting, and, in short, of everything in regard to wliich we had something to do. One would be trjdng to imitate a bit of my writing ; another di'awing the pictvu'es of some of our dogs or horses ; a thu'd poking over Be\sdck's ' Quadi'upeds,' and picking out what he said about them ; but our book of never-failing resovu'ce was the French 31aison Hustique, or ' Farmliouse,' which, it is said, is the book that first tempted Duquesnois (I think that was the name), the famous physician, in the reign of Louis XIV., to learn to read. . . . Wliat need had we of schools? What need of teachers ? What need of scoldhig and force, to induce children to read, ^vi'ite, and love books? What need of cards, dice, or of any games to ' kill time,' which, in fact, implant in the infant heai't the love of gaming, one of the most destructive of all human vices? We did not want to kill time ; .we were always busy, wet weather or diy weather, winter or sum- mer. There was no force in any case, no command, no authority ; none of these was ever wanted." Cobbett had the true idea of successful teaching : he created an interest in things, and thus caused his scholars to learn by themselves. He applied the Pestalozzian method, without ever, perhaps, having heai'd of Pestalozzi. CHAPTER XIII. SELF-ESTEEM. COBBETt's OPINION OF HIMSELF. If a phrenologist had examined Cobbett's cranium, he would surely have found the bump of self-esteem enor- mously large. Probably no man in England had a better opinion of himself or more confidence in his own abihties than Cobbett. This was one of the causes of his success ; for it is not sufficient to have ability, one must have con- Jidence in one's abihty, in order to succeed. The man of 264 Life of William Cobbett. ability without confidence is generally a failure : a weak- ling who is pushed aside by rougher and bolder natures : for he never gets into his right place, because he has not the confidence or assurance to take it. Faint heart never won fair lady or fair fortune. I have often regretted that Butler, for instance, the author of Hudibras, should have carried this diffidence so far as to allow every undeserving brassy rascal to step in before him, and carry off a portion of the rewards and emoluments which Charles II. show- ered upon worthless and undeserving favorites, to the neglect of those who had sacrificed their Hves and for- tunes in bringing about the Eestoration. Butler, who had done more to this end than any or all of them put together, stayed over-modestly behind, and remained unnoticed and neglected, until he finally died in poverty and wretchedness. Cobbett, like Swift, compared his powers with those of the men about him ; and, like him, felt that he was supe- rior to most of them. "While Swift was serving Sir Wil- liam Temple as a kind of underling or dependent secretary, he had occasion to see and hear some of the great officers of state, including the king himself, at the house of his patron; and on these occasions he did not fail to take their measure and compare his own powers with theirs. It was here that he first saw that he was capable of great things. This, to me, is an exceedingly interesting episode in his life; and I cannot help picturing in imagination the despised and neglected secretary watching the great men in their high talk and proud bearing, and noting their want of capacity and vain pretension ; I cannot help recollecting that wliile nothing but their names remains, and that their bodies lie mouldering in forgotten graves. Swift and his writings are as familiar as household words, and studied by millions ! Cobbett, I imagine, looked upon the officers in the army with pretty much the same feelings that Swift regarded the great politicians at the house of Self- esteem. 265 Sir "William ; or witli which BuriiH regarded some of the great personages whom he met at Edinburgh. Most men of great abilities do the same thing; that is, discover their abilities by comparison with those of others. But, imlike Cobbett, most of them keep these discoveries to themselves; they do not ventvu'e to declai-e their supe- rioiity, or prefer their claims to recognition ; and very fre- quently neither theii- abilities nor theu' claims are thscov- ered or recognized until they are under the sod. Such retu-ing modesty forms no pai't of Cobbett's chai'- acter. He never scruples to proclain openly that he has greater talents than other public men of his time. He openly declares, and not without reason, that "he is the great enhghtener of the people of England ;" and in his Letter to Lord Brougham, of July, 1822, he makes this amusing, ingenuous declaration: "J^ow let me tell you fi'ankly that the very first thing that seriously aroused my indignation [against the AVhigs], after my retui'n to England the first time, Avas seeing 3'ou and Horner put into ParHanient ; while I felt, without any reasoning about the matter, that you were both, as politicians, compai-ed with me, what a seed is compared Avith an oak." And in an advertisement of his own works, he says: ""WQien I am asked what books a young man or a young woman should read, I always answer. Let him or her read all the works I have written. This does," he continues, "it will doubtless be said, smell of the shop. No matter. It is what I recommend, and experience has taught me that it is my duty to give the recommendation." Is there any other author, of any nationality whatever, who has spoken of his own wi-i tings in such a manner ? Is there any other •\ATiiter who has so openly declared his own good opinion of himself and his works'? There is no concealment, no keeping back of anything, with Cobbett; his advice is bold, uni-eserved, open, sincere ; it is undoubtedly good ; and perhaps, if the tioith were known, many another liter- 12 266 Life of William Gobhett. ary man woiild like to give similar advice ; and would do so if he were not afraid of being laughed at for his pains. Had Cobbett written a work which he had projected shortly before his death — "A History of my own Life, showing the progress of a ploughboy to a seat in ParHa- ment," — ^he would no doubt have surpassed all his previous efforts in this direction. What other writer would dare to use such a simile as the following? "And if this [the enlightenment of the people] be really the object of the promoters of these plans, what praise is not due from them to me, who am endeavoring to commimicate to the people at large all that I have acquired from a life of appUcation and experience; who am, in short, endeavor, ing to take one head, full of useful knowledge, and to clap it safe and sound upon every pair of shoulders in the kingdom / " * Here is a passage which, written shortly before his death, has something pathetic as well as egotistic in it; it is the pictiire of a scene that sticks to you in spite of youi'self ; something which, once read, is never forgot- ten: "I have been lecturing on poHtics — I have been maintaining my Manchester propositions in every great town in the north, . . . and I have everywhere main- tained that, unless those propositions be acted upon to the full extent, a reform of the Parliament will be a delu- sion and a mockery. Everywhere I have been received with marks of approbation. . . . During my last tour, scores — and I might say, many hundreds of young men, sometimes twenty at a time, have crowded round me as I have been going out of the lecturing places ; one saying, as he shook my hand, ' That is the hand that wrote the Grammar ;' another, ' That is the hand that wrote the Protestant Reformation;' another, 'That is the hand that wrote the Advice to Young Men.' This was the * Letter to Earl Grosvenor. /Self- esteem. 267 case, more or less, at every place where I was. . . . Nor was this confined to the buoyant spiiits of Lancashu'e and Yorkshu'e, where the heart seems always upon the lips ; but I found it the same everywhere." But I diu'e not make any more quotations of this natui'e, for I am afraid of creating a false impression. IMi-. Wat- son collects a number of his most striking egotisms to- gether, and then says, " Svich are the flowers of boastful- ness that may be plucked from various pages of his writ- ings." Nothing is more apt to give a wrong impression of Cobbett than this. Expressions which, taken singly and alone, appesu' niiuvellously presumptuous and boast- ful, are, in connection with the matters with which they stand, simjily effective and pleasing illustrations of his argument, quite in keeping with his general manner, and adding force and piqiiancy to his observations. Besides, Cobbett had actually done so much with his OAvn single hand, that he had acquired the right of speaking of him- self as he did, and of illustrating his subject by examples drawn from his own life. " I have never known a man who was worth much," says Mr. Cougdon, in his Reminis- cences of a Journalist, " or had done anything of import- ance, who was not apt to overwork the personal pronoun. Oui" own experiences, thoughts, adventui-es, failures, and successes aie naturally uppermost in our heads and most frequently upon our tongues ; and a literaiy man who has not become accustomed to that ' infirmity of noble minds ' must have had but a small cu'cle of Hterary friends indeed." 268 Life of William Cobhett. CHAPTEE XIV. HIS FACULTY OF NICK-NAMING. PECULIARITIES AND ECCEN- ITIES. CONCLUSION. CoBBETT praised and condemned with equal freedom most of the pubhc men of his time ; when they acted as he wished them to act, they were wise, honest, and hu- mane; when the contrary, they were cruel, corrupt, and hypocritical. "When he chose to revile," says Mr. Wat- son, " one faculty he exerted with great success, — that of nicknaming the objects of his vituperation. ' Old Sir Glory' was his well-applied ridicule of Burdett's title 'Westminster's Pride and England's Glory.' Frederick Robinson, afterwards Lord Goderich, was happily called 'Prosperity Fred,' for his constant promises of good times coming. Egerton Smith, editor of the Liverpool Mer- cury was ludicrously turned into 'Bott Smith,' for the rest of his life, on account of something he had said in allusion to that disease (sic). Mr. Thomas Attwood, from some scheme for reducing the national debt by shilUngs, was dubbed ' Little Shilling Attwood.' Lord Ersldne was ' Baron Clackmannan ' (his second title). Lord Liverpool was 'Lord Pinknose Liverpool.' Mr. Hobhouse was ' Sancho Hobhouse.' Henry Hunt, for a time, was ' the great liar of the South,' and Baines ' the great har of the North.' IVIr. Black, of the Chronicle, was tui'ned into 'Doctor Black.' The loquacious Brougham was stig- matized as 'a mixture of laudanum and brandy with a double allowance of jaw.' The Times was sometimes called 'the bloody old Thnes^ and sometimes 'Annie Brodie,' from one of the shareholders in the paper. An- other of his aversions was ' that lump of horse-dung that is called the Globe.'' ^'' Sir Robert Peel was "Spinning Jenny Peel." Canning was "Aeolus Canning" — a title Tfis FacuUy of Mck-Naminf/. 209 tliat is said to have provoked inextinguishable laughter among high and low — and tbe Quakers were " the unbap- tized, buttonless blackguards.'' Cobbett's power lay wholly in the man himself, in his natm-al abilities and force of chai'acter; he owed very little to his education, which Avas remarkably Imiited for a man of such influence. He would have gained a promi- nent position in almost any station of Ufe ; for he was bound to lead, and never could bear to be led by anybody or in anything. As his range of view was hmited, so were his aims and objects, which were not of the highest or most intellectual chai'acter. The standard by which he measiu-ed everything was usefulness / and the only valuable things to him were those which produced ma- terial or mental improvement, especially the former. As has been said of somebody else, his idea of civilization was sufficient beef, beer, and pudthng, shelter and wages ; and provided these were attauied, he had little regard for anything else. We have seen with what satisfaction he spoke of 'Mr. Chamberlayne's workmen being able "to retii'e to a warm bed, after taking a full meal and spend- ing a cheerful evening by the side of their own fire.'' To cause all his countrymen to do this was his ideal of hap- piness. And a much nobler and more generous one it is than that of those who wish to fill their nmids with bib- heal and sphitual knowledge while theh- bellies are empty and theii' homes aie di'eai'y. "VVlien Lord Brougham said he hoped the time would come when every man in Eng- land would read Bacon, Cobbett said he would bo content if a time would come when every man in England could eat bacon. He wovdd have fully appreciated Carlyle's saying of the United States, as expressed to one of his iVmerican visitors, " The best thing I know of yoiu' coun- try is that a man can get beef to eat there." Cobbett saw no use in j)06try or romance; he had no relish for the higher or poetic flights in literatm-e and ait ; the works 270 TJfe, of William fjohhett. of Shakespeare and Walter Scott, for instance, were en- tirely superfluous, and the reading of such things a waste of time. He says that he never once went a-walking with his wife ; that is, he never went out with his wife simply for the sake of walking: he always had some object ahead when he rode or walked with her or with any one else. This single fact is a sample of his whole activity: his whole career, every act of his whole career, was to attain some useful end; he never spent a moment or wrote a line to promote simply the agreeable or the beautiful; whatever there is agreeable or beautiful in his writings is incidental, not intentional ; for all his efforts were singly to ftu'ther the materially useful, to promote the physical well-being and comfort of his countrymen. To secm-e better food, better clothing, better lodging, and greater political freedom for the people of England — the latter in order to secure the former — these were his great objects ; and because in the olden times food was cheaper and land more generally owned by the common people than at the present day, he could, though himself a Protestant and a steady adherent of the Church of England, see no good in the Protestant Reformation, which he considered the cause of the misery and destitution of the working classes in his own day. Cobbett was a man of strong prejudices, strong likiags, and dislikings, and accustomed to a strong way of express- ing them. He detested the Jews because they were usu- rers and supporters of tyrants ; he was jealous of Scotch- men because of their persistent, pushing industry and superior intelligence ; he hated the Edinbm-gh reviewers and the historian Hume, because they were Tories ; he called the reviewers "shuffling sots" and Hume "a mean, mercenary, and malignant liar ;" he despised Wilberf orce and the anti-slavery people in England because they thought more of the black slaves in Jamaica than of the /y/.s- Fii('\ilt)i of X'n'h- Naming. 271 Avliite slaves iu England ; be rightly condemned Napoleon, for his choice in his second niairiage, declaring that he ought to have assembled a score of the prettiest girls iu France, and chosen one of them for a wife; he had a strong aversion to potatoes and tea and coffee, calling the former the "infamous potato," and the latter "slops;" and prophetically dechui-ed that any people that Hved on potatoes would be sui'e, some day, to be the victims of famine ; he would have every body eat mutton or bacon and di'ink ale, even for breakfast ; he hated the practice of vaccination, calling it "the beastly cow-pox business," and caused all his childi-en to be innoculated while at the breast ; he believed in hunting, boxing, bull-baiting, and the game of single-stick, and offered prizes for the best players ; he condemned the wearing of gloves by men as a vain, fooHsh custom ; he despised the public schools of England, calling them "haunts of dullards and dens of drones;" he disapproved of teaching the peasantry to read, because the press was so corrupt they could obtain only false information by reading ; and he gave no school- ing to his own childi"en till they were well advanced in boyhood or girlhood, and then led them on to a love of leai'ning by spreading books and pictiu'es before them. His faults and peculiaiities, like his merits and excel- lences, are striking and uncommon ; but his merits are so gi'eat that we can well afford to look over his faults. " It is not by his faults," says IVIi*. Lewes, "but by his excel- lences, that we judge a great man." In many things his example is worthy of imitation, for his hfe presents much more that is deserving of approbation than of condemna- tion. Aud as to his wi-itings, if any man wishes to learn how to MTite strong, idiomatic, correct Enghsh ; to reason cogently and convincingly ; to make a clear statement of a case, stripped of all that is superfluous ; to overcome an opponent by strong arguments, strongly stated ; to silence an enemy by radiant exposure of his fallacies, and s^vift 272 Life of William Cobbett. detection of his inconsistencies, covering him with confu- sion and ridicule, or naihng him for hfe to the pubhc pil- lory by an epithet ; if any man wants to become acquainted with that style of attack which inspires enemies with ter- ror and friends with enthusiasm ; in which no favors are asked and no quarter is given; in which the writer is bound to win, at all hazards, like Nelson in his battles ; — if any man wishes to become familiar with a writer who combines, with all these, rare powers of description and narration, and a fascmating attractiveness of manner that holds spell-bound all who once begin to read his writings, let him turn to the pages of the Political Register, or to any of the forty other works by the same author, and he will be abundantly satisfied. List of William Cohhett^s Publications. 273 IJsl of llliaiii Colilielt' FROM EDWARD SMITH'S BIOGRAPHY. 1. The Soldter'a Friend , or considerations on the late pretended au^ mentation of the subsistence of the private soldiers. "Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the laws."— Goldsmith. Written by a Subaltern. London . Ridgway. 1703, 8vo. %cL; reprinted in 1793, without printer's or pub- lisher's name Price id., or 100 copies 10«'. Gcif., pp. 1.5. [This tractis evident- ly the work of more than one hand. The style is that of Cobbett ; but some of the subject-matter comes from a person well acquainted with the politi- cal intrigues of the day.] 2. [TranMation J] The Laws op Nations: being the science of national law. covenants, power, etc., founded upon the treaties and customs of modern nations in Europe. By G. F, von Martens, Professor of Public Law in the University of Gottingen. Translated from the French, by William Cobbett. To which is added, a list of the principal treaties, declarations, and other public papi-rs, from the year 1731 to 1738, by the author. Phila- delphia, 1794 London edition, 1802, dedicated to John Penn, Fsq. Fourth edition, London, 1809, with the treaties, &c., continued by the translator down to Nov. 1815, 8vo, pp. xxxii. — 16S. 3 Le Tuteur An(;i.\is, ou Grammaire n'guliere de la langue anglaise, en deu.x pnrties. Par Willium Cobbett. A Philadelphie : chez Thomas Brad- ford, ]79.'5 8vo, pp. X.— :^40 [This book has been reproduced many times in France and Beleium, under the title of "Maitre d'A7i'.rlais," and has much increased in bulk from time to time. It is still held, in those countries, to be superior to any other book of its kind.] 4. [Translation} A topographical and political description of the Spanish port of Saint Domingo, containing general observations on the climate, population, and productions ; on the character and manners of the inhabit- ants ; with an account of the several branches of the government. By M[ederio L[ouis] E(lie] Moreau-de-SaintMcry, Member of the Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, &c. Translated from the French by William Cobbett Philadelphia : printed and sold by the Author, Printer and Book- seller. No. 84 South Front Street, 179ti. Z vols. 8vo. 5. [Appendix only] The History op Jacobinism. ... By William Playiair. With an Appendix by Peter Porcupine, showing the ciose con- nection which has ever subsisted between the Jacobins at Paris and the Democrats la the United States of America. Philadelphia, 179(5. 2 vols. 8vo. 6. Observations on Priestley's EMioitATioN. to which is added, A Story OP A Farmer's Bull. [Anonymovt^.} Philadelphia, 1794. pp.88. 7 A Bone TO Gnaw FOR THE Democrats. By Peter Porcupine. Philadel- phia, Jan. 1795. pp. vi.— 66. 8. A Kick tor a Bite. By Peter Porcupine. Philadelphia, Feb. 1795. 9. A Bone to Gnaw for the Democrats. Part 2. By Peter Porcupine. Philadelphia, Mar 1795, pp. vii.— G6. Sect. 1. Observations on a patriotic pamphlet, entitled "Proceedings of the United Irishmen." Sect. 2. Democratic principles illustrated by exam- ple. Sect. 3. Democratic memoirs; or an account of some recent feats performed by the Frenchified citizens of the United States of America. 12* 274 List of William CohheWs Publications. i [London edition of [7] and [9] printed for J. "Wright, opposite Old Bond Street, Piccadilly 1797 ; A Bone to Gnaw for the Democrats. By Peter Por- cupine, Author of the Bloody Buoy, &c., &c. To which is prefixed A Rod for the Backs of the Critics ; containing an historical sketch of the present state of political criticism in Great Britain ; as exemplified in the conduct of the monthly, Critical and Analytical Reviews, &o., &c. Interspersed with Anecdotes. By Humphrey Hedgehog, 12mo. pp. xcv.— 175.] 10. A Little Plain English ; addressed to the people of t^je United States, on the Treaty, and on the conduct of the President relative thereto, in answer to " The Letters of Franklin." By Peter Porcupine. Philadel- phia, Aug. 1795. pp. viii.— 103. 11. A Nb-w Teak's Gift to the Democrats ; or observations on a pam- phlet entitled, " A Vindication of Mr. Randolph'^ Resignation." Philadel- phia, Jan. 1796. pp. 71. 13. The Censor, No. 1 ; or a Review of Political Occurrences relative to the United States of America. Philadelphia, Jan. 1796. [This number of the ' Censor ' was originaliy called ' The Prospect from the Congress Gallery,' and as such it has been sometimes referred to."— iVote in collected works.'] 13. The Bloodt Buot, thrown out as a Warning to the Political Pilots of all Nations ; or, a faithful relation of a multitude of acts of horrid barbarity, such as the eye never witnessed, the tongue expressed, or the imagination conceived, until the commencement of the French Revolution. To which is added, an instructive Essay, tracing these dreadful efl'ects to their real causes. Philadelphia. 1796. [Among reprints in England, there is one at Cambridge, entitled, " Annals of Blood ; or an Authentic Relation," &c.] 14. The Censor, No. 2. Philadelphia, March, 1796. 15. The Censor, No. 3. Philadelphia, April, 1796. 16. The Censor, No. 4. Philadelphia, May, 1796. 17. The Scare-Crow ; being an infamous letter sent to Mr. John Oldden, threatening destruction to his house, and violence to the person of his tenant, William Cobbett. With remarks on the same. Philadelphia. ' From the Free Press of William Cobbett, July 22, 1796." 18. The Life and Adventures of Peter Porcupine, with a full and fair account of all his' authoring transactions ; being a sure and infallible guide for all enterprising young men who wish to make a fortune by writing pamphlets.—" Now, you lying varlets, you shall see how a plain tale will put you down."— Shakespeare. Philadelphia, Aug. 1796. 19. The Censor, No. 5. Philadelphia, Sept. 1796. [Contents : Life of Thomas Paine, interspersed with remarks and reflections. Remarks on the pamphlets lately published against Peter Porcupine.] 20. The Gros Mousqueton Diplomatique ; or diplomatic blunderbuss. Containing Citizen Adet's notes to the Secretary of State ; as also his cockade proclamation, with a preface. Philadelphia, Oct. 1796. [A com- pilation, with short preface, to pave the way for the next Censor.] 21. The Censor. No. 6. Philadelphia, Nov. 1796. [Remarks on the Blun- derbuss.] 23. The Censor, No. 7. Philadelphia, Dec. 1796. [Contents : — Remarks on the debates in Congress.— A letter to the infamous Tom Paine, in answer to his letter to General Washington.] 23. The Censor, No. 8. Philadelphia, Jan. 1797. 34. Porcupine's Gazette ; daily newspaper. Philadelphia, Mar. 4, 1797— Dec. 1799. A farewell number was issued to the subscribers, from New York, in Jan. 1800. 35. The Republican Judge ; or the American liberty of the press, as ex- hibited, explained, and exposed, in the base and partial prosecution of William Cobbett, for a pretended libel against the King of Spain and his ambassador, before the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania. With an Address to the people of England. Philadelph a, Nov. 1797. 26. Detection of a Conspiract formed by the United Irishmen, with the evident intention of aiding the tyrants of France in subverting the Government of the ITnitgd^tates of America. Philadelphia, May, 1798. 27. [Abridgment.] The Cannibal's' Progress ; or the dreadful horrors of French invasion, as displayed by the Republican officers and soldiers, in. JJtit of William CohbeWs Puhlications. 275 their perfidy, rapacity, ferociousness and brutality, exercised towards the Innocent Inhabitants of "Sermany. Abridged from the translation of Anthony Aufrere, Esq. r-hiladelphia, June, 1798. [Introductory Address, by the Editor.] 58. REMARKS ON THK Expi..\NATioN. lately published by Dr. Priestley, re- spectins: the intercepted letters of his friend and disciple, John 11. Stone. To which is added, a Certificate of Civism for Joseph Priestley, Jun. By Peter Porcupine. Philadelphia, 1799. 8vo, pp. 52. 29. The Trial op Repitblicanism ; or a series of political papers, pro\inK the injurious and debasinp consequences of Repuolican Government, and written constitutions. With an introductory address to the Hon. Thomas Erskine, Esq. Philadelphia, June, 1T99. 30. A Concise and CoMrREUENsivE Histort of Prince Suworow's Cam- paign IN Italt, in tue Year 1709. Philadelphia, Jan. 1800. .11. The RusHLionT ; by the help of which wayward and disaffected Bri- tons mav see a complete specimen of the baseness, dishonesty, ingratitude, and perfidy of Republicans, and of the profligacy, injustice and tjTanny of Republican Governments. By Peter Porcupine. Five numbers. New York, Feb.— April, 1800. pp. 258. The RusHMGHT, No. 6. London and New York, Aug., 1800. pp. .51. [An Address to the People of England. To the People of the United States of America.] 32. The Porcupine ; daily newspaper. London, Oct. 30, 1800. . . (?) Nov. 1801. 33. Porcupine's Works ; containing various writings and selections, ex- hibiting a faithful picture of the United States of America ; of their governments, laws, politics and resources ; of the characters of their pres- idents, governors, legislators, magistrates and military men ; and or the customs, manners, morals, religion; virtues and vices of the people ; com- prising also a complete series of historical documents and remarks, from the end of the war, in 1783, to the election ot the president, in March, 1801. By William Cobbett. In twelve volumes. London, 1801. 8vo. [The contents of the first eleven volumes include those of the above- enumerated publications under articles 6—31, with the addition of com- plementary matter :— A summary view of the politics of the United States from the close of the war to the year 1794. Account of the insurrection in the western counties of Pennsylvania, in 1794. A summary of the proceed- ings in Conjrress, during the session which commenced on the 4th of No- Rember, 1794. I*roceedings relative to the British treaty. An analysis of vandolph's Vindication. Miscellaneous StatePapers [French depredations ; Washington's retirement ; impeachment of Wm. BUnmt, ifcc] Miscellaneous Anecdotes. Selections from Pormpine's Gazette. The twelfth volume con- tains a series of historical documents and remarks, from Dec. 1799 to March, 1801 ; some of which are extracted from the London Porcupine^\ 34. A Collection of Facts and Observations, relative to the Peace WITH Bonaparte, chiefly extracted from the Pormpine, and including Mr, Cohbett's letters to Lord Hawkesbury. To which is added, an appendix, containing the divers conventions, treaties, state papers, and despatches connected with the subject ; together with extracts from the speeches of Mr Pitt, Mr. Fox and Lord Hawkesburv, respecting Bonaparte and a peace with France. By William Cobbett. Loudon, Nov. 2, 1801. 8vo. pp. 231— Ixiii. •35. Letters to the Right Honourable Henry Addington, Chancellor of His Majesty's Exchequer, on the fatal effects of the peace with Bonaparte, particularly with respect to the colonies, the commerce, the manufactures, and the constitution of the United Kingdom. By William Cobbett. Lon- don, January, 1802. 8vo. [These two articles [.'M. 35] were reproduced, in part, under the following title : " Letters to the Right Honourable Lord Hawkesbury, and to the Right Honourable Henry Addington, on the peace with Bonaparte, to which is added an appendix, containing a collection (now greatly enlarged* of all conventions, treaties, speeches and other documents connected with the subject. By William Cobbett. Second Edition. London, January, 1802.] 36 Cohbett's Weekly Political Register. London, January, 1803 —June IW.I. [Fortnightly in Jan. 1803, afterwards weekly, except April 12 to July .5, 1(517 ; Mar 21, May 2, June 27, Aug. 15, Oct. 17, 24, 31, Nov. 7, 14, 1818; Aug. 21, Oct. 16, Nov. 20, 27, 1819 ; Feb. 26, Mar. 4, 11, 18, 1880-all of which were 276 List of William Cobhett^a Publications. missed. Price 106, 202 ; his descrip- tion of Cobbett ia Parliament, 214. Burdett, Sir Francis, presides at the dinner given to Cobbett, 147 ; his loan to Cobbett, 168 ; letter to Cobbett on his debt, 181 ; fruitless attempt at reconciliation be- tween him and Cobbett, 193; his influence at tlie dinner given to him, 203, 204. Burke, Edmund, on the French Revolution, 181 ; compared with Paine, 187 ; his pension, 189, 233 ; compares taxes to dews, 233. Bums, Robert, 9. Butler. Samuel, his modesty, 264. Canning, George, his compliments to Cobbett, 72; his "instinctive patriotism," 246, 251 ; his nick- name, 268. Carlyle, Thomas, 225 ; on the United States. 269. Caroline, Queen, her history, 196. Castlereagh, Lord, originator of tho name "Twopenny Trash," 156; how he wanted to settle Cobbett, 167; Cobbett's remarks on his death, 199. Catholics, Cobbett's friendship for, 25C. Chamberlayne, Mr. Cobbett's praise of, 243. Charles II., his conduct 264. Chilworth, description of, 241. Cobbett, William, birth and parent- age, 3-5 ; youth, 5-7 ; goes to Lon- don, 9; enters a lawyer's office, 9, 10 ; enters the army, 11 ; how he studied grammar, 12 ; his promo- tion in the army, 14 ; his conduct in the army, 15; his scrape at C hatham, 16 ; his praise of the army, 17 ; marries and goes to France, 17; conduct in love and courtship, 18 ; his description of New Brunswick, 21 ; the Court- martial, his account of it, 28; ex- perience in France, 35 ; arrival in Philadelphia, and employment as a teacher, 36 applies to Mr. Jef- ferson for a situation, 36 ; his early republicanism, 37 ; first appear- ance as an author, 38 ; his fable against the democrats, 40; sides with tho Federalists and supports Washington, 42; writes an essay on the Jay treaty, 43 ; publisheg 282 Index. Porcupine's Gazette, 44; creates a host of enemies, 44, 45 ; the Eng- lish ambassador's offer to him, 47 ; how he fought the democrats, 48 ; Mr. Watson's accusation concern- ing the Court-martial, 49 ; meeting with Talleyrand, 54 ; return to England, 60; libel suits against him, 60, 61 ; affair with Dr. Eush, 61 ; his reception by the honorable Mr. Windham, 66 ; the Pitt dinner- party, 66 ; describes his return to his native village, 69 ; the scales taken from his eyes, 75 ; revival of Porcupine, 81 ; his affair with the editor of the True Briton, 82 ; failure of the English Porcupine, 83 ; establishes a business in Lon- don, 84 ; letters to Lord Hawkes- bury and Addington, 85 ; begins the Register, 86 ; his paper on Napoleon, "Important Considera- tions," 87 ; attempts to bribe him in the Cakes Ames manner, 94; how he felt after the conviction and fine for the "Juverna" let- ters, 102 ; how he separated from Pitt, 103 ; the happy years of his life at Botley, 107 ; Miss Mitford's description of his happy home, 107; his relations with Dr. Mit- ford, 113 ; opposes the grant of an increase of the income of the royal family, 116 ; his remarks on the trial of the Duke of York, 119 his trial and imprisonment, 123 how he conducted himself, 126 conducts his own defence, 127 the works he was publishing at this time, 129 ; remarks on the corruption of the English press, 136 ; how he lived in prison ; how he taught his children, 139, 263 writes " Paper against Gold," 140 results of his imprisonment, 143 his visitors, 143 ; refuses a sub- scription, 142; his conduct as a husband, 143 ; his return to Bot- ley, 145; Watson's attack, 147; the dinner given him on his libera- tion, 149 ; his great mistake in the speech he made at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, 153 ; the unhappy year 1817, 157 ; his departure for America, 159 ; his farewell address to his countrymen, 159 ; Watson's charge of fleeing from his credit- ors, 163 ; his income, 165 ; his debt to Sir Francis Burdett, 168; his second residence in America, 170 . his changed sentiments regarding the United States, 172 -. his com- parison of life in Long Island with life in Hampshire, England, 173 ; his great financial mistake, 174; his return to England, 178 ; his conduct with regard to his cred- itors, 179 ; his resurrection of Paine, 183 ; compares Paine with Burke, 187 ; fear of his arrival at Manchester, 191 ; dinner at the Crown and Anchor, 191 ; starts a daily paper, 192 ; bankruptcy, 192; his penny subscription, 192 ; Wat- son's sneer, 193 ; stands for Cov- entry, 194 ; defence of Queen Caroline, 196 ; his remarks on Castlereagh's death, 199 ; his re- ception by the people of Preston, 200 ; the openness of his charac- ter, 202 ; his extraordinary con- duct at the dinner given to Sir Francis Burdett, 203 ; once more prosecuted for sedition, 205; comes out victorious, 307 ; his lee ■ turing tours, 208 ; described by Bamford, 208 ; the strongest per- sonality in England, 209 ; what his contemporaries thought of him, 209 ; elected to Parliament, 212 ; visits Scotland and Ireland, 213 ; his career in Parliament, 213 ; ill- ness and death, 216.— His woeks : How he taught grammar, 319 ; the charm of his style, 223 ; compared with other political writers, 225; how he handled financial ques- tions, 237 ; spoken versus written language, 330; his opinions of Burke, Adam Smith, Pitt, Fox, and Paine, 233 ; his wit and humor, 239 ; his rural rides, 241 ; how he could praise, 243 ; interview with the chimney-sweeper, 245 ; analy- Tiidea 283 sis of a prince's letter, 247 ; bis defence of the laboring classes, 250 ; his famous History of the Re- formation, 253; bis remarks on the sand hill, 200 ; his opinion of him- self, 263; bis faculty of nick-nam- ing, 268 ; peculiarities and eccen- tricities, 270 bis character, 269. Cobbett, Mrs., how treated by her husband, 143. Cochrane, Lord, bis career, 108. Coleridge, S. T , on Cobbett, 209. Commissions in the English army, 118. Congdon, Mr., on self-esteem, 267. Conkling, Roscoe, bis infatuation, 257. Consolidated Fund, 227. Convention of (intra, 230. Corporation of the city of London, 280. Debbeig, Colonel, his friendship for Cobbett, 13. Denman, Lord, annoyed by Cobbett, 207. Draper, Professor, on the middle ages, 258. EUenborougb, Lord, 100; tries Cob- bett twice for libel, 124 ; tries Lord Cochrane, 108. Elliott, the Corn Law Rhymer, on Cobbett's death, 218. Emmett, Robert, prosecuted by Plunkett, 100. England after the French Revolu- tion, 131 ; compared with the United States, 176, 205. English Grammar Cobbett's, 220. Erskine, Lord, bis nickname, 261. EvartB, William E., 150. Fable of the jars and the jordens, 40. Fable of the wolf and the dog, 80. Fielden, Mr., helps Cobbett Into Parliament, 212. Fielding, Henry, 16, 171. Fitzgerald, Lord Edward, his ca- reer, 67. Fox, Charles James, compared to Demosthenes, 286. Franklin, Benjamin, Cobbett's at- tack on, 60. French Grammar, Cobbett's, 220. Fund, consolidated, 227. George III., his incapacity, 114 ; his conduct toward Burke, 139; his prosecution of the American war, 135 ; his reception of the citizens of London, 230. German mercenaries, 135. Gibbs, Sir Vicar y, on "Juvema's" letters, 100 ; prosecutes Cobbett, 157 ; Cobbett on him, 138 ; Leigh Hunt's description of him, 132. Gifford, John, bis rewards, 76, 77. Gifford, William, his sinecure, 77. Goethe, 185. Greeley, Horace, compared with Cobbett, 45, 217, 226 : his opinion of poverty, 172. Habeas Corpus Act, suspended, 157. Hamilton, Alexander, 42. Hansard's Reports, begun by Cob- bett, 129. Hardwicke, Lord, 100. Hazlitt, on Cobbett, 202. Henry VIII., 259. History of the Reformation, Cob- bett's, 253. Horner, Francis, bis ability as a statesman, 175 ; Cobbett's refer- ence to, 265. Hume. David, 185, 270. Hunt, Lei(.h, on Pitt's policy, 106; his imprisonment, 132 ; bis jeal- ousy of Cobbett. 132 ; sarcasm on Castlereagh, 200. Infidels, feeling toward, 185. Ingersoll, Colonel, on Paine, 184. Jefferson, letter to Cobbett, 37,42.74. Jeffrey, Lord, on Cobbett, 210. Jews, Cobbett's hatred of, 270. Johnson, Doctor, defends the gov- ernment, 1.35 ; his interview with George III., 239 ; how he is re- garded, 185 ; his style, 225. Johnson, Mr., author of the "Ju- vema " letters, 101. 281 index. " Juvema," his letters, 99. Macaulay, his fortune, 171 ; on House of Commons, 214 ; his his- tory of England, 256 ; on Cobbelt, 257. Mackintosh, Sir James, in Parlia ment, 214 ; on the game-laws and on witchcraft, 239. Martens, his Law of Nations, trans- lated by Cobbett, 50. MacKean, Chief Justice, his enmity to Cobbett, 60. Melville, Lord, 43, 105. Mill, John Stuart, on historians, 227. Mitford, Doctor, his relations with Cobbett, 112. Mitford, Miss, describes Cobbett's home, 107. Mueller, the Swiss historian, his opinion of Cobbett's style. Napoleon, his reading, 12, 104 ; how Cobbett wanted to receive him, 86 ; Cobbett on his second mar- riage, 271. Nicknaming, Cobbett's faculty of, 268. O'Connell, Daniel, invites Cobbett to his home, 212. O'Gorman, Cobbett's letter for, 256. Paine, Cobbett's life of, 85 ; his work on finance, 95 ; his bones brought to England by Cobbett, 183 ; feel- ings of Americans towards him, 184; defence of him by Colonel Ingersoll, 184; what Cobbett thought of him, 186, 187 ; compared with Burke, 187 ; what he did for . the United States, 188 ; on Pitt's sinking-fund, 236. Parker, Theodore, 205. Pascal, Blaise, 189. Peel, Sir Robert, Cobbett's opposi- tion to, 214 ; nickname, 268. Perceval, Mr., refuses Cobbett's overtures, 152 ; his defence of the Duke of York, 121, 248. Pestalozzi, his system applied by Cobbett, 263. Pitt, William, Cobbett's letter to him, 32, 38 ; his presence at the dinner-party, 66 ; his resignation, 84 ; his scheme to get rid of the national debt, 96 ; his character, 105 ; his policy, 104, 235 ; compared to Cicero, 235 ; his sinking-fund, 236. Plunkett, solicitor-general for Ire- land, attacked by " Juvema," 100. Portugal, British generals in, 230. Princes, how the English love them, 116 ; their uselessness, 193. Priestley, Dr., Cobbett on, 38. Prussia, its constitution, 185. Randolph, Washington's secretary of state, his treachery, 71. Raymond, Henry A., S26. Reeves, John, 76, 152. Reformation, history of, 253. Revolutionary war, how supported, 135. Rogers, George, his friendship for Cobbett, 152. Rose, George, Cobbett's letter to him, 68. Rush, Dr. Benjamin, his libel-suit against Cobbett, 61. Scarlett, 246 ; his celibacy bill, 251. Schiller, 185. Schurz, Carl, 150. Scotchmen, Cobbett's jealousy of, 235, 237, 270; their part in the American Revolutionary war, 135. Scott, Walter, 165, 227, 270. Scotch writers, 135. Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, attacks Cobbett, 43. Sinecures in England, 79. Smith, Adam, Cobbett on, 233. Spoken versus writtenlanguage, 230. Svnft, Dean, compared with Cob- bett, 40 ; his fate, 167 ; at the house of Sir William Temple, 264. Talleyrand, interview with Cobbett, 54. Trevelyan, Otto, on England after the French Revolution, 133; on Cobbett's Register, 217. Index. 285 Voltaire, 286. Wardle, Mr., on the Duke of York, 118 ; on foreign troops, 123. Washington, George, Cobbett's es- teem for, 43, 1&5. Watson, John, on the Court-martial affair, 49 ; charges Cobbett with fleeing from debt, 16.3 ; his sneer at Cobbett's subscription, 193; mentioned, 51, 52, 83, 147, 190, 200, 201, 221, 267. Wilberforce, despised by Cobbett, 270. Wilson, John, on Cobbett, 210. Windham, Mr., his praise of Cob- bett's early writings. 43; his re- ception of Cobbett, 66. Wright, Cobbett's partner, 152; sues Cobbett for libel, 152. Writers for the press, Cobbett's opinion of, 136. Yonge, Sir George, 31. York, Duke of, his trial, 117 ; analy- sis of his letter, 247. A GRAMMAR English Language IS A SERIES OF LETTERS; INTENDED FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS AND OF YOUNG PERSONS IN GENERAL, BUT MORE ESPECIALLY FOR THE USE OF SOLDIERS, SAILORS, APPRENTICES AND PLOUGH-BOYS. WILLIAM COBBETT. TO WHICH ARE ADDED SIX LESSONS, INTENDED TO PREVENT STATESMEN FROM USING FALSE GRAMMAR, AND FROM WRITING IN AN AWKWARD MANNER. With Notes by Robert Waters, )c Editor^s Preface. vii Brown, Green, Wliite, and Black, may be thi'own into the fire, and the world will be none the worse off; for, in my opinion, boys and gu'ls ought to be taught the principles of English grammar without placing any text-book what- ever in their hands. Never did the Board of Education of New York adopt a wiser resolution than that recently adopted, abolishuig grammar text-books from the public schools, in all but the two higher grades. Any person, that requii'es a book m the hands of his scholars in order to teach them the principles of English grammar, is no teacher; he is simply a crammer-down of other people's teaching, which he has himself been unable to master. A genuine teacher requires, in order to teach grammar, nothing but the blackboard and a piece of chalk ; all the rest must come out of his head or out of the heads of his scholar's. He may make use of what books he pleases in building up his own knowledge ; but no book should ever be placed in the hands of his scholars. To childi-en, books on the subject of grammar are generally in a dead language; it is all Greek to them; the living speech of the teacher is the only language they can understand. Away, therefore, with all grammar text-books; for they ai'e the dead-weights of progress, fatal to all true teaching. Nor is this book of Cobbett's intended for boys and gii'ls at school; it is for those who ai'e studying out of school; for those who are trying to acquire that real, practical, profitable knowledge which is acquired by self -exertion, or self-help; for those who have no teacher, and ai-e striving to teach themselves: for those who ■v\dsh to learn in order to teach; for those who have failed to make any proper progi'ess by means of other grammai's, and now wish to understand and master the subject for themselves. I do not deny that this book, being so entirely different from all ( ther gi-ammai's ; so conversational, easy, and plain in its chai'acter; I do not deny that it may be ad- viii Editor's Preface. vantageously used by school-boys tinder a competent teacher; nay, even under an incompetent teacher; — ^in fact, if the teacher must use a text-book, he cannot select a better one than Cobbett's ; — ^but what I maintain is, that it is the only grammar that can be profitably used with- out a teacher ; the only book that can teach grammar by ITSELF to those who are learning for themselves. As long as principles last, and as long as men learn by using their reason, grammar in some shape must be taught; and this being granted, I contend that there is no better WAY of teaching it than this way of Cobbett's. Of course, no child ought ever to be taught a word about grammar until he has learned to read fluently, and even write tolerably well, the words of his native language; not until he has attained his twelfth or fourteenth year; for grammar is a matter which cannot be rightly under- stood and assimilated before that age. This is another reason why the action of the New York Board of Educa- tion is a wise one. Some of Mr. "White's readers — feeling, no doubt, as I did, that even if all ordinary grammars are worthless, some grammar of some sort is necessary, and being de- lighted by his clear and sensible manner of writing — requested him, to write a grammar ; one of them declaring that if he did so, a future generation would rise up and call him blessed. Whereupon Mr. "White makes the fol- lowing amusing and significant reply: "I would gladly act on this suggestion if it were probable that any re- sponsible and competent publisher would make it prudent for me to do so. It would be deUghtful to believe that the next generation would rise up and call me blessed ; but I am of necessity much more interested in the ques- tion whether the present generation would rise up and put its hand into its pocket to pay me for my labor. Any one who is acquainted with the manner in which school- books are 'introduced' in this country, knows that the Editor''s Preface. ix opinions of competent persons upon the merits of a book have the least possible influence upon its coming suf- ficiently into vogiie to make its pubhcation profitable; and publishers, like other men of business, work for money. One of the trade made, I know — although n'^t to me — an answer like this to a proposition to pubHsh a short series of school-books: 'I believe your books are excellent ; but supposing that they are all that you be- lieve them to be, I should, after stereotyping them, be obliged to sj)end $100,000 in introducing them. I am not prepared to do this, and therefore I must say No, at once. The merit of a book has nothing to do with its value in trade.' And the speaker was a man of experi- ence."* Now, I am strongly inclined to think that these ad- mirers of Mr. White's, and all those disgusted with the ordinary grammars and the ordinary methods of teaching grammar, will, if made acquainted with Cobbett's little grammar, Avhich has long been out of print in this covm- try, find what they want, or nearly what they want ; for there does not exist in our language a clearer exposition of the nature of EngHsh grammar than this by Cobbett. The very language of the grammar itself is a capital illus- tration of how one ought to write ; and if the scholai''s understanding the subject is a true test of the proper learning of it, then no other grammar can, in the attain- ment of this end, be compared with this ; for thousands, who have failed to understand the subject by other gi*am- mars, have succeeded by this, and have, no doubt, risen up and called Cobbett blessed for wnting it. Even Mi-. White himself, who looks upon most other grammai's as worse than useless, declai'es of Cobbett's grammar, that he has "read it with great admiration, both for the soundness of its teaching and the excellence of its sys- ♦ " Words and their Uses," p. 437. X Editor's Preface. tern."* And he also declares, I tliiiib (I quote from memory), that if grammar is to be taught at all, it can- not be taught better than by this method of Cobbett's. At a meeting of school superintendents held recently in Iowa, one of the superintendents read a paper on text- books, in which he says: "Men of letters and men of science have sought to veil their thoughts with the ob- scurity of strange and foreign terms rather than to make the road following them ia their investigation easy. They have sought the vain-glory of stultifaction in their selec- tion of a medium for the communication of their thoughts, rather than the lasting praise consequent upon a simple style. Hence the difficulty in following them in their text-books, and the unprofitableness of being taught how to read thought from printed characters." If there is one writer in the whole range of English literature who deserves more praise than another for avoiding this very style, so common among ordinary writers ; if there is one author who is more conspicuous than any other for cloth- ing his thoughts in plain, intelligible language, it is Wil- liam Cobbett. In all that goes to the making up of good English speech, he has no superior. He was the first to show how one ought to write for young people, the first to write in a manner that plain people could understand; the first to instruct in a truly edifying manner. It is his great glory that he uses simple, plain language, and he makes every subject he touches, whether it be the defini- tion of a verb or the explanation of the nature of the national debt, perfectly clear and intelligible. The Editor has endeavored to write the notes in some- thing of the same plain and easy style as that in which Cobbett has written the grammar, keeping constantly in mind that he is addressing a youth of fourteen or fifteen years of age. Of course, he has never for a moment thought of imitating Cobbett; but simply and only of making the matter plain. * "Every-day English," Letters to the New York Times. Contents of the Grammar. Letter ^^^e I. — Introdviction 1 n. Definitiou of Grammar and of its Different Branches or Parts 8 in.— Etymology : the Different Pai'ts of Speech, or Sorts of Words 15 IV. — Etymology of Articles 24 V. — Etymology of Nouns 27 YI. — ^Etymology of Pronouns 38 VU. — Etymology of AJjectives 47 Vin.— Etymology of Verbs 50 IX. — Etymology of Adverbs 83 X. — Etymology of Prepositions 86 XI. — Etymology of Conjunctions 89 Xn. — Cautionary Kemarks 89 Xni. — Syntax Generally Considered 92 XIV. Syntax : the Points and Marks made use of in Writing 93 XV.— Syntax, as relating to Ai'ticles 106 XVI.— Syntax, as relating to Nouns 109 XVn.— Syntax, as relating to Pronouns 115 XVin.— Syntax, as relating to Adjectives 139 XIX.— Syntax, as relatuig to Verbs 142 xii Contents of the Orammar. Letter Page XX. — Syntax, as relating to Adverbs, Preposi- tions, and Conjunctions 184 XXI. — Specimens of False Grammar, taken from the Writings of Dr. Johnson, and from those of Dr. Watts 187 XXn. — Errors and Nonsense in a King's Speech . . 209 XXm. — On Putting Sentences together, and on Figurative Language 223 THE SIX LESSONS. XXTV. — Six Lessons, intended to prevent States- men from using False Grammar, and from writing in an Awkward Manner. . . 230 Lesson I. — On the Speech of the Eight Honorable Manners Sutton, Speaker of the House of Commons 233 n. — On His Majesty's Speech at the Close of the Session in 1819 . , 240 III. — On the Note of Lord Castlereagh relative to the Museums at Paris , 246 IV. — On the Dispatch of the Duke of Wellington relative to the Same Subject 252 V. — On a Note to Lord Castlereagh relative to the French Slave Trade 256 VI. — On Dispatches of the Marquis Wellesley relative to the State of Ireland in 1822 . — Charge of the Bishop of Winchester. . . 260 DEDICATION. TO HER MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTV, QUEEN CAROLINE. May it please youk Majesty, A work, having for its objects, to lay the soUd founda- tion of hterary knowledge amongst the laboring classes of the community ; to give practical effect to the natui'al genius found in the soldier, the sailor, the apj^rentice, and the plough-boy; and to make that genius a perennial source of wealth, strength, and safety to the kingdom; such a work naturally seeks the approbation of your majesty, who, amongst all the royal personages of the present age, is the only one that appeal's to have justly estimated the value of the people. The nobles and the hierarchy have long had the arro- gance to style themselves the pillars that support the throne. But, as your majesty has now clearly ascertained, royalty has, in the hour of need, no efficient supporters but the people. Dming your majesty's long, arduous, magnanimous, and gallant straggle against matchless fraud and bound- xiv Dedication. less power, it must have inspired you with great confi- dence to perceive the wonderful intelligence and talent of your millions of friends ; while your majesty cannot have failed to observe, that the haughty and insolent few who have been your enemies, have, upon all occasions, ex- hibited an absence of knowledge, a poverty of genius, a feebleness of intellect, which nothing but a constant asso- ciation with malevolence and perfidy could prevent from being ascribed to dotage or idiocy. That to her, whose great example is so well calculated to inspire us with a love of useful knowledge, and to stimulate us to perseverance in its pursuit ; that to her, the records of whose magnanimity and courage will make mean spite and cowardice hide their heads to the end of time ; that to her, who, while in foreign lands, did honor to Britain's throne, and to Britain herself, by opening the debtor's prison, and by setting the captive Christian free ; that to her, who has so long had to endure all the suffer- ings that malice could invent and tyranny execute ; that to her, God may grant, to know no more of sorrow, but long to live in health, prosperity, and glory, surrounded and supported by a grateful and admiring people, is the humble prayer of Tour majesty's most dutiful And most devoted servant, WILLIAM COBBETT. London, Nov. 25th, 1820, TO Mr. James Paul Cobbett. LETTEE I. INTRODTTCTION. North Hempstead, Long Island, Dec. 6, 1817. My dear Little James : You have now arrived at the age of f oiu'teeu years with- out ever having been bidden, or even advised, to look into a book ; and all you know of reading or of Avi'iting you owe to yoiu* own unbiassed taste and choice. But, while you have hved unpersecuted by such importunities, you have had the very great advantage of bemg bred up under a roof beneath which no cards, no dice, no gaming, no senseless pastime of any description, ever found a place. In the absence of these, books natmally became your com- panions diu'ing some part of your time : you have read and have written, because you saw your elders read and write, just as you have learned to ride and hvmt and shoot, to dig the beds in the gai'den, to trim the flowers and to prune the trees. The healthful exei'cise, and the pleasui-es, unmixed with fear, which you have derived from these sources, have given you "a sound mind in a sound body," and this, says an English writer, whose works you will by- and- by read, '' is the greatest blessing that God can give to man." It is true that this is a very great blessing ; but mere 1 2 Tntroductioti. soundness of mind, without any mental acquirements, is possessed by millions ; it is an ordinary possession ; and it gives a man no fair pretensions to merit, because he owes it to accident, and not to any thing done by himself. But knowledge, in any art or science, being always the fruit of observation, study, or practice, gives, in proportion to its extent and usefulness, the possessor a just claim to respect. • We do, indeed, often see all the outward marks of respect bestowed upon persons merely because they are rich or powerful ; but these, while they are bestowed with pain, are received without pleasure. They drop from the tongue or beam from the features, but have no com- munication with the heart. They are not the voluntary offerings of admiration, or of gratitude ; but are extorted from the hopes, the fears, the anxieties, of poverty, of meanness, or of guilt. Nor is respect due to honesty, fidelity, or any such qualities; because dishonesty and perfidy are crimes. To entitle a man to respect, there must be something of his own doing, beyond the bounds of his well-known duties and obligations. Therefore, being extremely desirous to see you, my dear James, an object of respect, I now call upon you to apply your mind to the acquiring of that kind of knowl- edge which is inseparable from an acquaintance with books ; for, though knowledge in every art and science is, if properly applied, worthy of praise in proj)ortion to its extent and usefulness, there are some kinds of knowledge which are justly considered as of a superior order, not only because the possession of them is a proof of more than ordinary industry and talent, but because the appli- cation of them has naturally a more powerful influence in the affairs and on the condition of our friends, acquaint- ances, neighbors, and coimtry. Blake, the Titchfield thatcher, who broke his leg into splinters in falling from a wheat-rick, was, on account of the knowledge which he possessed, beyond that of laborers in general, an object Introduction. 3 of respect ; but, in its degi-ee, and in the feelings from which it arose, how diflereut was that respect fi'om the respect due to oui* excellent neighbor, Mr. Blundell, who restored the leg to perfect use, after six garrison and army siu-geons had declared that it was impossible to preserve it, and that, if the leg were not cut off, the man must die within twenty-four hoiu's ! It is probable that the time of IMi-. Blundell was not, on this occasion, occu- pied more, altogether, than four days and four nights; yet, the effect was a great benefit to be enjoyed by Blake for probably thuty or forty yeai'S to come : and, while we must see that this benefit would necessai'ily extend itself to the whole of his numerous family, we must not over- look those feelmgs of pleasure which the cvu-e would natiu-ally produce amongst friends, acquaintances, and neighbors. The respect due to the jjrofession of the sui'geon or physician is, however, of an order inferior to that which is due to the profession of the law ; for whether in the chai'acter of coiuisellor or of judge, here are required, not only uncommon industry, labor, and talent, in the acquiie- ment of knoAvledge ; but the application of this knowledge in defentling the jjroperty of the feeble or incautious against the attacks of the strong and the wiles of the crafty, in affording protection to innocence and seeming punishment to guilt, has, in the affairs of men and on theif condition in life, a much more extensive and pow- erful influence than can possibly arise from the appli- cation of surgical or medical knowledge. To the functions of statesmen and legislators is due the highest respect which can be shown by man to any tiling liumjui; for, not only are the industry, labor, and talent lequisite in the acquirement of knowdedge, still greater and far greater here, than in the professioii of the law; Imt, of the appHcation of this knowledge, the effects are BO transcendent in point of magnitude as to place them 4 Introduction. beyond all tlie bounds of comparison. Here it is not in- dividual persons with their families, friends, and neigh- bors that are affected; but whole countries and communi- ties. Here the matters to be discussed and decided on are peace or war, and the liberty or slavery, happiness or misery, of nations. Here a single instance of neglect, a single oversight, a single error, may load with calamity millions of men, and entail that calamity on a long series of future generations. This is true enough ; but it is a remarliable fact that nearly all the efforts of legislators, political as well as ecclesiastical, have been of such a nature as to cause anything but respect for tliem. The liistorian Buckle shows that the great bulk of the enactments of legislators, since the beginning of history, have been conducive of results directly opposite to those for whicli they were intended ; that is, evil results ; and that tlie only beneficial legislation of mod- ern times has consisted in the undoing of what previous legislators have done. So that, of all the personages in history, none, unhap- pily, are deserving of more profound contempt, or, at least, of less esteem, than precisely those very men who ought to have secured the greatest esteem, legislators. And all this, not because they were bad men, but because they were lacking in knowledge. And if this is the case with law-makers of honest intentions, what shall we say of those execrable wretches, those deadly can- cers on the body politic, who, on becoming members of a legisla- ture, sell themselves, body and soul, to wealthy corporations? What shall we tliink of tJieir influence on the progress and welfare of the people, whose interests they were elected to protect and to promote ? Such creatures lose not only the esteem of all honest men, but their own esteem, their self-esteem ; they become con- temptible, not only in their own eyes, but in the eyes of those who buy them; and as to the future, the hottest, deepest gulfs in hell are yawning for them ! As a contrast to Buckle's judgment of the great crowd of igno- rant and consequently pernicious legislators, consider this remark- able statement which the same writer makes of the power and influence of one man of real knowledge : ' ' Well may it be said of Adam Smith (author of ' The Wealth of Nations '), and said too without fear of contradiction, that this solitary Scotchman has, by the publication of one single work, contributed more towards the Ttitrodtcction. ■ 5 happiness of man, than has been effected by the united abilities of all tliL' statosnion and legislators of wliom history has preserved an authentic account."— Hist, of Civilization, Vol I., p. 155. But, my dear James, you will always bear in mind that as the degree and quahty of our respect rise in proportion to the influence which the diflferent branches of knowledge natm-ally have in the affaii-s and on the condition of men, so, in the cases of an imperfection in knowledge, or of neglect in its apphcation, or of its perversion to bad pur- poses, all the feelings which ai'e opposite to that of respect rise m the same proportion. To ignorant pretenders to smgeiy and medicme Ave award om- contempt and scorn ; on time-serving or treacherous counsellors, and on cruel or partial judges, we inflict oui* detestation and abhor- rence; while, on rapacious, coiTupt, perfidious, or tyran- nical statesmen and legislators, the voice of human natui'e cries aloud for execration and vengeance. The pai'ticulai" jDath of knowledge to be pui'sued by you will be of yoiu' own choosing ; but, as to knowledge con- nected with books, there is a step to be taken before you can fau'ly enter upon any path. In the immense field of this kind of knowledge, innumerable are the paths, and Grammar is the gate of entrance to them all. And if grammai* is so useful in the attaining of knowledge, it is absolutely necessary in order to enable the possessor to communicate, by writing, that knowledge to others, with- out which commmiication the possession must be com- paratively useless to himself in many cases, and, in almost all cases, to the rest of mankind. The actions of men proceed from their thoughts. In order to obtain the cooperation, the concurrence, or the consent, of others, we must communicate our thoughts to them. The means of this communication are words; and gi-ammai' teaches us hoto to make use of %oords. There- f(n-e, in all the ranks, degrees, a:i;l situations of life, a knowledge of the principles and rules of granuuar must 6 Introduction. be useful; in some situations it must be necessary to tlie avoiding of really injurious errors; and in no sit- uation, wbicli calls on man to place his thoughts upon paper, can the possession of it fail to be a source of self- gratulation, or the want of it a cause of mortification and sorrow. But, to the acquiring of this branch of knowledge, my dear son, there is one motive which, though it ought at all times, to be strongly felt, ought, at the present time, to be so felt in an extraordinary degree : I mean that de- sire which every man, and especially every young man, should entertain to be able to assert with effect the rights and liberties of his country. When you come to read the history of those laws of England by which the freedom of the people has been secured, and by which the happi- ness and j)ower and glory of our famed and beloved coun- try have been so greatly promoted ; when you come to read the history of the struggles of oui- forefathers, by which those sacred laws have, from time to time, been defended against despotic ambition ; by which they have been restored to vigor when on the eve of perishing ; by which their violators have never failed, in the end, to be made to feel the just vengeance of the people ; when you come to read the history of these struggles in the cause of freedom, you will find that tyranny has no enemy so formidable as the pen. And, while you will see with exulta- tion the long-imprisoned, the heavily-fined, the banished Wilham Prynne, returning to hberty, borne by the people from Southampton to London, over a road strewed with flowers ; then accusing, bringing to trial, and to the block, the tyrants from whose hands he and his country had un- justly and cruelly suffered; while your heart and the heart of every young man in the kingdom will bound with joy at the spectacle, you ought all to bear in mind that, without a knowledge of grammar., ]\fr. Prynne could never have performed any of those acts by which his name has Introduction. 7 been thus preserved, and which have caused his memory to be held in honor. Though I have now said what, I am sure, will be more than sufficient to make you entertain a strong desire to take this first step in the road to literaiy knowledge, I cannot conclude this introductory letter without observ- ing, that you ought to proceed in yom* study, not only with diligence, but with patience; that, if you meet with difficulties, you should beai* in mind that, to enjoy the noble prospect from Port's-Down Hill, you had fii'st to cHmb slowly to the top; and ifhat, if those difficulties gather about you and impede yoiu- way, you have only to call to yoiu' recollection any one of the many days that you have toiled thi'ough briers and brambles and bogs, cheered and tu-ged on by the hope of at last finding and killing yoiu- game. I have put my work into the form of Letters, in order that I might be continually reminded that I was address- ing myself to persons who needed to be spoken to with gi'eat clearness. I have numbered the Letters themselves, and also the 'paragraphs, in order that I might be able, in some pai'ts of the work, to refer you to, or tell you where to look at, other parts of the work. And here I will just add, that a sentence, used as a term in Grammar, means one of those portions of words which are divided from the rest by a single dot, which is called a7>e;'io(7, or full point; and that a jKiragra2^h means one of those collections, or blocks, of sente7ices which are divided from the rest of the work by beginning a neio line a '^iile further in than the lines in general ; and, of coui'se, all this part, which I have just now -wiitten, begimiing with "7" have put my work i7ito theforin^^ is 2i paragraph. In a confident reliance on yoiu' attentiveness, industry, and patience, I have a hope not less confident of seeing you a man of real learning, employing yom- time and talents in aiding the cause of tnath and justice, in aiford- 8 Definition of ing protection to defenceless innocence, and in drawing down vengeance on lawless oppression ; and, in that hope, I am your happy, as well as affectionate, father, WILLIAM COBBETT. LETTER III DEFINITION OF GRAMMAR, AND OF ITS DIFFERENT BRANCHES, OR PARTS. My dear James: 1. In the foregoing Letter I have laid before you some of the inducements to the study of Grammar. In this I will define, or describe, the thing called Qratnmar; and also its different branches, or Parts. 2. Grammar, as I observed to you before, teaches us how to make use of loords; that is to say, it teaches us how to make use of them in a proper manner, as I used to teach you how to sow and plant the beds in the garden ; for you could have thrown about seeds and stuck in plants of some sort or other, in some way or other, without any teaching of mine ; and so can anybody, without rules or instructions, put masses of words upon paper ; but to be able to choose the words which ought to be employed, and to place them where they ought to be placed, we must become acquainted with certain principles and rules; and these principles and rules constitute what is called Grammar. 3. Nor must you suppose, by-and-by, when you come to read about JV^ouns and Verbs and -Pronou7is, that all this tends to nothing but mere ornamental learning ; that it is not altogether necessary, and that people may write to be understood very well without it. This is not the case; for, without a good deal of knowledge relative to these same Nouns and Yerbs, those who write are never Orammar and its Brmiches. 9 sui'e that they put upon paper what they mean to put upon paper. I shall, before the close of these Letters, show you that even very leai'ned men have frequently wiitten, and caused to be pubHshed, not only what they did not mean, but the very contrary of what they meant ; and if errors, such as are here spoken of, ai'e sometimes com- mitted by learned men, into what endless errors must those fall who have no knowledge of any principles or rules, by the observance of which the like may be avoided ! Grammar, perfectly understood, enables us not only to express oui* meaning fully and clearly, but so to express it as to enable us to defy the ingenuity of man to give to ovu' words any other meaning than that which we ourselves intend them to express. This, therefore, is a science of substantial utihty. 4. As to the different Branches or Parts of Grammar, they are _^/l»«//7 and they are thus named: Orthography, Prosody, Etymology, and Syntax. 5. There are two of these branches on which we have very little to say, and the names of which have been kej^t in use from an unwillingness to give up the practice of former times ; but, as it is usual to give them a place in books of this kind, I will explain to you the natui'e of all the four branches. G. ORTHOGRAPHY is a word made up of two Greek words, which mean s^Mlling. The use of foreign words, in this manner, was introduced at the time when the English language was in a very barbarous state; and, though this use has been continued, it ought to be a rule with you, always, when you either write or speak, to avoid the use of any foreign or uncommon word, if you can ex- press yoiu" meaning as fully and clearly by an English word in common use. However, Orthography means neither more nor less than the very humble business of putting letters together properly, so that they shall form words. This is so very childish a concern that I will not appear to 1* 10 Dejtnition of suppose it necessary for me to ^well upon it ; but as you will, by-and-by, meet with some directions, under the bead of Etymology, in wbich Voioels and Consonants will be spoken of, I will here, for form's sake, just observe that the letters. A, E, I, O, and U, are l^owels. Y, in certain cases, is also a Yowel. All the rest of the letters of the alphabet are Consonants. This "very humble business" of spelling, however," must not be passed over so lightly ; for it is a subject of very great difficulty to many pei-sous. It is notorious that many of our ablest English authors were never able to spell or punctuate correctly, and that the correctness of their printed books, in this respect, is entirely owing to the skill of the compositor. Some of their manuscripts might, indeed, be very aptly compared to the communication of Tom Hood's witty but illiterate correspondent, who, on writing him a long letter without any points whatever, jotted them all down in a row at the end of his letter, and told him to "pepper and salt " as he pleased. It is the compositor that does the ' ' pep- pering and salting," and much more, for many a writer of large pretensions. The orthography of our English words, from their various deri- vation and the variety of sounds given to the letters of the alpha- bet, is perhaps more difficult than that of the words of any other modern tongue; and I wish to indicate here the very best and simplest way of learning it, together with the punctuation of the sentences — I mean by dictations. It is not necessary to have a teacher for this purpose ; anybody who can read correctly can dic- tate to you. All you have to do is to write down the words and points that are slowly read to you from a book, and when you have written about a page, take the printed book and compare your words and points with those in the book, and correct accord- ingly. This is the cure for all spelling-reform nonsense. Write, page after page to dictation, and you will soon find it all come very natural — you will wonder how anybody could ever think of spelL ing the words otherwise than the way they are spelled, or how they could be spelled otherwise. The old method — still practiced in our public schools — of giving out columns of single and separate words to be spelled, verbally and in writing, many of tliem such as may never be seen twice again in a lifetime, is of very little value ; for it is disjointed, dry, and pointless ; whereas, by dictating sentences from a book, the Grammar and its Branches. 11 scholar learns: tst, to spoil the words in common nse; 2d, to spell words according to their meaning (there, their ; hair, hare ; pear, pair); 3d, to associate words with ideas, thus instinctively and imperceptibly learning their proper meaning and right use ; and, 4th, he acquires a. feeling or taate for correct language ; words and sentences are impressed forcibly ou his mind by hearing, seeing, and writing them. Besides, he learns in this way, better than in any other, a knowledge of punctuation, which in English is different with different writers ; in fact, every English writer has his own style of punctuating, for this is generally a matter of taste and feeling. In writing to dictation, the work done by the scholar is nearly the same as that done by the compositor, who is the best speller and punctuator in the world. Therefore, get somebody to dictate to you eveiy day a page, or half a page, from a book, and you will, in a few months, acquire a better knowledge of orthography and punctuation than if 3'ou had spelled your way through a dozen spelling-books. 7. PROSODY is a -word taken from tlie Greek lan- guage, and it means not so mucli as is expressed by the more common word PRONUNCIATION ; that is to say, the business of using the proper sound, and employing the due length of time, in the uttering of syllables and words. This is a matter, however, which ought not to occupy much of yovu' attention, because pronunciation is learned as bu'ds leai'n to chirp and sing. In some counties of England many words are pronounced in a manner dif- ferent from that in -which they are pronounced in other counties ; and between the pronunciation of Scotland and that of Hampshu'e the difference is vei'y great indeed. But, while all inquuies into the causes of these differences are useless, and all attempts to remove them ai-e vain, the. differences are of very Httle.real consequence. For in- stance, though the Scotch say coorn, the Londoners cavm^ and the Hamjishire folks cam, we know they all meayi to say corn. Children will pronounce as theii- fathers and mothers pronounce; and if, in common conversation, or in speeches, the matter be good and judiciously arranged, the facts cleai'ly stated, the ai'guments conclusive, the 12 Definition of words well chosen and properly placed, hearers whose approbation is worth having will pay very little attention to the accent. In short, it is sense, and not sound, which is the object of your pursuit ; and, therefore, I have said enough about Prosody. Here is a circumstance that suggests a by no means unfavorable commentary on the difference between the pronunciation of Eng- lisli in tliis country and in England : Mr. James Paul Cobbett, son of William Cobbett, has added to a late edition of this grammar, a sixteen-page chapter on pronunciation, pointing out the various classes of words commonly mispronounced by classes and counties of people in England. After carefully noting them all, I have come to the conclusion that the whole batch is utterly useless for our people, as I do not know of a single class of people in this country who make any one of the same mispronunciations. Many of the mistakes are, it is true, made here, too ; as, bood for bud ; doon for done ; aboove for above ; f ayther for father ; awch for arch ; glawss for glass ; but they are not made by classes of people ; they are, in fact, made by none but a few illiterate and pretentious people. The most common mistake made by people in this country con- sists in misplacing the accent of words ; as, in-dus'-try for in'-dus- try ; in-ter-est'-ing for in'-ter-est-ing. All these may be corrected by reference to the dictionary, in which the pronunciation of every word is properly marked. The stress of the voice always falls on that syllable having the accent-mark (') ; thus, per'-emp-to-ry, not per-emp'to-ry. I have read somewhere that, on one occasion, when Mr. Sumner's colleague in the Senate said he hoped that the honorable gentlemen would make an inquiry into some matter, Mr. Sumner whispered to him : " inqui'ry." By-the-bye, there is one other mistake in pronunciation, which is very common among Americans, in the Eastern States at least, and that is pronouncing such words as new, dew, steio, as if they were written noo, doo, stoo. They must be pronounced like few and view. The same error is made in such words as duty, grati- tude, where the u must be long, as in useful. There is something else that usually comes under this heading. The Greek word prosodia means, literally, "belonging to song or hymn," and is usually employed to signify that part of gram- mar which treats of the rules of rhythm in metrical composi- tions. Cobbett, it is well known, had very little admiration for Gninintar and its Branches. 13 poetry, and no dovibt considered it a waste of tiTiic to say anything about its laws ; but, thougli perhaps not one in a hundred of tiiose who study tiiis book will ever attempt to write poetry, every intel- ligent person ought to knom something of its laws ; and I shall, therefore, at the end of the book, after more necessaiy mat- ters have been mastered, attempt to show what a simple matter this is, as far as English is concerned. 8. ET Y^IOLOGY is a very different matter ; and, under this head, you will enter on your study. This is a word which has been formed out of two Greek words ; and it means the /)e^?/f//-ee or rdat'ionshlp ofv'ords, or, the man- ner in which one word grows out of, or comes from, another word. For instance, the word walk expresses an action, or movement, of our legs ; but, in some cases we say tcalks, in others walked, in others loalking. These three latter words are all different from each other, and they all differ from the original word, walk; but the action or movement, expressed by each of the foui", is precisely the same sort of action or movement, and the three latter words grow out of, or come fi'om, the first. The words here mentioned differ fi-om each other with regard to the letters of w^hich they are composed. The difference is made in order to express differences as to the Persons who walk, as to the Number of persons, as to the Time of walkuig. You will come, by-and-by, to the prin- ciples and rules according to which the varying of the spelling of words is made to con-espond with these and other differences; and these principles and rules consti- tute what is called lityuiology. 9. SYNTAX. is a word which comes from the Greek. It means, in that language, the joining of several things together; and, as used by grammai'ians, it means those principles and rules which teach us how to put words together so as to form sentences. It means, in short, sen- tence-making. Having been taught by the rules of JEtg- niologg what ai'e the relationships of woi'ds, how words grow out of each other, how they are varied in their 14 Definition of Grammar, etc. letters in order to correspond with the variation in the circumstances to which they apply, Syntax will teach you how to give all your words their proper situations or places, when you come to put them together into sen- tences. And here you will have to do with points as well as with words. The points are four in number, the Comma, the Semi- Colon, the Colon, and the Period. Besides these points, there are certain tnarks, such as the mark of interrogation, for instance; and to use these points and marks properly is, as you will by-and-by find, a matter of very great importance. 10. I have now given you a description of Grammar, and of its separate Branches or Parts. I have shown you that the first two of these Branches inay be dismissed without any further notice ; but very different indeed is the case with regard to the latter two. Each of these will require several Letters ; and these Letters will contain matter which it will be impossible to understand without the greatest attention. You must read soberly and slowly, and you must thinlc as you read. You must not hurry on from one Letter to another, as if you were reading a history ; but you must have patience to get, if possible, at a clear comprehension of one part of the subject before you proceed to another part. When I was studying the French language, the manner in which I proceeded was this: when I had attentively read over, three times, a lesson, or other division of my Grammar, I wrote the lesson down upon a loose sheet of paper. Then I read it again several times in my own hand-writing. Then I copied it, in a very plain hand, and without a blot, into a book, which I had made for the purpose. But if, in writ- ing my lesson down on a loose sheet of paper, I commit- ted one single error, however trifling, I used to tear the paper, and write the whole down again ; and, frequently, this occurred three or four times in the writing, down of one lesson. I, at first, found this labor very irksome; Parts of Speech. 15 but, haA-ing imposed it on myself as a duty, I faithfully dischai-ged that duty ; and, loug before I had proceeded half way through my Grammar', I experienced all the benefits of my industry and perseverance. This was, no doubt, how Cobbett, in his soldier days, learned to spell and punctuate ; for what he did was as good as writing so many dictations. If any scholar feels like following his example, he may lighten the labor and secure nearly equal benefit by writ- ins the lessons down as dictations. LETTER III. ETYMOLOGY. The different J^arts of Speech, or Sorts of Words. My deab James: 11. In the second Letter I have given you a description of Etymology, and shown you that it treats of the pedi- gree, or relationship, of words, of the nature of which re- lationship I have given you a specimen in the word vjalk. The next thing is to teach you the principles and rides,' according to which the spelhng and employing of words are vaiied in order to exjjress the various cu-cumstances attending this relationship. But, before I enter on this pai't of my instructions, I must inform you that there are several disti7ict sorts of words, or, as they are usually called, Farts of Speech; and it will be necessary for you to be able, before you proceed fui'ther, to distinguish the words belonging to each of these Pai'ts of Speech from those belongmg to the other parts. There ai'e Nine Parts of Speech, and they are named thus: AKTICLES, NOUNS, PRONOUNS, ADJECTIVES, VERBS, ADVERBS, PREPOSITIONS, . CONJUNCTIONS. INTERJECTIONS. 16 Etymology. 12. Before tlie sergeant begins to teach young soldiers their exercise of the musket, he explains to them the dif- ferent parts of it; the butt, the stock, the barrel, the loops, the swivels, and so on ; because, unless they know these by their names, they cannot know how to obey his instructions in the handling of the musket. Sailors, for the same reason, are told which is the tiller, which are the yards, which the shrouds, which the tacks, which the sheets, which the booms, and which are each and every part of the ship. Apprentices are taught the names of all the tools used in their trade ; and ploughboys the names of the various implements of husbandry. This species of preliminary knowledge is absolutely necessary in all these callings of life ; but not more necessary than it is for you to learn, before you go any further, hoW to knoto the sorts ofioords onefro'm another. To teach you this, therefore, is the object of the present letter. 13. ARTICLES. There are but three in our language ; and these are, the, a?i, and a. Indeed, there are but two, because a7i and a are the same word, the latter being only an abbreviation, or a shortening, of the former. I shall, by-and-by, give you rules for the using of these Ai'ticles ; but my business in this place is only to teach you how to know one sort of words from another sort of words. 14. NOUNS. The word Noun means name, and nothing more ; and Nouns are the immnes of persons and things. As far as jDgrsons and other animals and things that we can see go, it is very easy to distinguish Nouns; but there are many Nouns which express what we can neither see, nor hear, nor touch. For example: Con- science, Vanity, Vice, Sobriety, Steadiness, Valour; and a great number of others. Grammarians, anxious to give some easy rule by which the scholar might distinguish Nouns from other words, have directed him to put the words, the good, before any word, and have told him that, J'c/rts of Speech. 17 if the tlu-ee words make sense, tlie last word is a JVbuji. This is frequently the case; as, the good house, the good dog/ but the good sobriety would not appear to be very f/ood sense. In fact there is no rule of this kind that will answer the purpose. You must employ yoiu* mind in order to arrive at the knowledge here desii'ed. 15. Every word which stands for a person or any ani- mal, or for any thing of sicbstance, dead or alive, is a JV^ou7i. So far the matter is very easy. Thus, ma7i, cat, tree, log, axe Nouns. But when we come to the woi'ds which ai'e the names of things, and which things are not std)sta7ices, the matter is not so easy, and it requii-es a little sober thought. This word thought, for example, is a jVoim,. 16. The only sure rule is this : that a word which stands for any thing that has an, existence is a Noun. For ex- ample: Pride, Folly, Thought, Misery, Truth, JAdse- hood, Ojyinion, Sentiment. None of these have any sub- stance. You cannot see them, or touch them; but they all have an existence. They all exist in the world ; and, therefore, the words which represent them, or stand for them, ai'e called Nouns. If you be still a little puzzled here, you must not be impatient. You will find the diffi- culty disappear in a short time, if you exert yotu* powers of thinking. Ask yourself what existence means. You will find that the words, very, for, think, but, pretty, do not express any thing which has an existence, or a being; but that the words, motive, zeal, pity, kindness, do ex- press thmgs which have a being, or existence. 17. PRONOUNS. Words of this sort stand in the place of Nouns. Theu- name is from the Latin, and it means For-nouns, or For-nanies; that is to say, these words, called Pronoims, are used/'or, or instead of. Nouns. y/e, iShe, Her, Him, Who, for example, are Pronouns. The use of them is to prevent the repetition of Nouns, and to make spcakuig and writing more rapid and less 18 Etymology. encumbered with words. An example will make this clear to you in a minute. Thus : 18. A woman went to a man, and told hmx that he was in great danger of being mui'dered by a gang of robbers, ?oAo had made preparations for attacking him. He thanked her for her kindness, and, as he was unable to de- fend himself, he left his house and went to a neighbor's. 19. Now, if there were no Pronouns, this sentence must be written as follows : — A woman went to a man, and told the man, that the man was in great danger of being miu'- dered by a gang of robbers ; as a gang of rohhers had made preparations for attacking the man. The mail thanked the v)oman for the woman's kindness ; and as the man was unable to defend the 7nan's self, the man left the mavbs house and went to a neighbor's. 20. There are several different classes of Pronouns; but of this, and of the manner of using Pronouns, you will be informed by-and-by. All that I aim at here is to enable you to form a clear idea with regard to the differ- ence in the sorts of words, or Parts of Speech. 21. ADJECTIVES. The word Adjective, in its full, literal sense, means something added to something else. Therefore, this term is used in Grammar as the name of that Part of Speech which consists of words which are added, or put, to Nouns, in order to express something relating to the Nouns, which something could not be ex- pressed without the help of Adjectives. For instance, there are several turkeys in the yard, some black, some white, some speckled ; and, then, there are large ones and small ones of all the colours. I want you to go and catch a turkey; but I also want you to catch a white turkey, and not only a white turkey, but a large ttu'key. There- fore, I add, ox put to the Noun, the words white and large, which, therefore, are called Adjectives. 22. Adjectives sometimes express the qualities of the Nouns, to which they are put; and this being very fre- rnHs <»/ speech. 19 quently tlieii' use, some grammarians have thrown aside the word Adjectives, and have called words of this sort. Qualities. But this name is 2iot sufficiently comprehen- sive; for there are many words which ai'e Adjectives which have nothing to do with the quality of the Nouns to which they ai'e put. Good and bad express qualities, but lovy and short merely express dimension, or dvu'ation, without giving any intimation as to the quality of the things expressed by the Noims to which they are put ; and yet loxj and short are Adjectives. You must read veiy attentively here, and consider s»berly. You must keep in mind the above explanation of the meaning of the word Adjective; and if you also bear in mind that words of this sort always express some quality, some property, some appearance, or some distinctive circumstance, be- longing to the Nouns to which they are put, you will very easily, and in a very short space of time, be able to dis- tinguish an Adjective from words belonging to any other Part of Speech. 23. VERBS. Grammarians appeal' to have been at a loss to discover a suitable appellation for this important sort of words, or Pai't of Speech; for the word Verb means nothing more than Word. In the Latin it is verbuin, in the French it is verbe; and the French, in their Bible, say JLe Yerbe, where we say 2^he Word. The truth is that there are so many properties and ckcum- stances, so many and such different powers and functions, belonging to this Part of Speech, that the mind of man is imable to bring the whole of them into any short and pre- cise description. The first grammar that I ever looked into told me that "a Verb is a word which signifies to do, to be, or to suffer.''^ What was I to understand from this laconic account ? 24. Verbs express all the difierent actions and 7/iove- nients of all creatures and of all things, whether alive or dead. As, for instance, to speak, to bark, to f/row, to 20 Etymology. •moulder, to crack, to crumble, and the like. In all tliese cases there is m,ovement clearly understood. But in the cases of, to think, to reflect, to remember, to like, to detest, and in an infinite number of cases, the tnovement is not so easily perceived. Yet these are all yerhs, and they do indeed express movements which we attribute to the mind, or the heart. But what shall we say in the cases of to sit, to sleep, to rot, and the like? Still these are all Verbs. 25. Verbs are, then, a sort of words, the use of which is to express the actiotis, the movem,ents, and the state or manner of being, of all creatures and things, whether ani- mate or inanimate. In speaking with reference to a man, to fight is an action ; to reflect is a movement ; to sit is a state of being. 26. Of the manner of using Verbs you will hear a great deal by-and-by; but what I have here said will, if you read attentively, and take time to consider, be sufficient to enable you to distinguish Verbs from the words which belong to the other Parts of Speech. ^ 27. ADVEEBS are so called because the words which belong to this Part of Speech are added to verbs. But this is an inadequate description ; for, as you will pres- ently see, they are sometimes otherwise employed. You have seen that Verbs express actions, tnovements, and states of being; and it is very frequently the use of Ad- verbs to express the manner of actions, movements, and states of being. Thus : the man fights bravely; he reflects profoundly; he sits quietly. In these instances the Ad- verbs perform an office, and are placed in a situation, which fully justify the name that has been given to this sort of words. But there are many Adverbs which do not express the manner of actions, movements, or states of being, and which are not added to verbs. For instance : " When you sow small seeds, make the earth ve7-y fine, and if it have, of late, been dry weather, take care to press the earth extremely hard upon the seeds." Here jHarts of /Speech. 21 ai'e fom* Adverbs, but only the last of the foiir expresses any thing connected with a verb. This shows that the name of this class of words does not fully convey to oiu- minds a desciiption of their use. 28. However, with this name you must be content; but you must bear in mind that there are Adverbs of time, of place, and of degree, as well as of manner ; and that then- business is to express, or describe, some circum- stances in addition to all that is expressed by the Nouns, Adjectives, and Verbs. In the above sentence, for ex- ample, the words when, very, of late, and extremely, add greatly to the precept, which, without them, would lose much of its force. 29. PKEPOSITIONS. The Prepositions ai-e, in, to, for, from, of, by, loith, into, against, at, and several others. They are called Prepositions from two Latin words, mean- ing before and place; and this name is given them be- cause they ai"e in most cases placed before Nouns and Pronouns ; as, " Indian corn is sown in May. In June, and the three following months, it is carefully cultivated. "WTien ripe, in October, it is gathered in the field, by men who go from hill to hill vnth baskets, into which they put the eai's. The leaves and stalks are then collected for winter use ; and they not only serve as food for cattle and sheep, but are excellent in the making of sheds to protect animals against the inclemency o/*the weather." 30. Prepositions ai'e not very numerous, and, though you will be taught to be very careful in using them, the above sentence will be quite sufficient to enable you to know the words belonging to this Part of Sj^eech from the words belonging to any other Part of Speech. Notice that the word is from "prae," before, and "positio," a placing. Now take any article of furniture near you — the desk, for instance — and think of all the relatiuns of position with regard to it and something else. The book is in the desk, on the desk, over the desk, above, under, beneath or beloto the desk, nea/r 22 Etymology. the desk, against the desk, beside the desk, witUn or without the desk, and so on. ■Still, other relations are sometimes expressed hy prepositions as well as that of position ; as, by the desk, of the desk, to the desk, for the desk ; but the majority of them show some relation of position between things and actions, or between persons and actions, or between things and states. This word between, for instance, is a preposition. Like other words used in grammar, its name, preposition, does not express completely the true nature of it. 31. CONJUNCTIONS are so called because they con- join, or join together, words, or parts of sentences ; as, "Peas and beans may be severed from the ground before they be quite dry ; but they must not be put into sacks or barns until perfectly dry, for, if they be, they will mould." The word and joins together the words peas and beans, and, by the means of this junction, makes all the remain- ing part of the sentence apply to both. The word hiit connects the first with the second member of the sen- tence. The word /or, which is sometimes a Conjunction, performs, in this case, the same office as the word hut : it continues the connection ; and thus does every part of the sentence apply to each of the two nouns which are the subject of it. What a deal of useless learning we find in the ordinary gram- mars about this simple matter of conjunctions! They speak of conjunctions which are mere connectives, of co-ordinate and sub- ordinate connectives, of copulative, adversative, and alternative conjunctions ; then of subordinate connectives which join hetero- geneous elements, and these subordinate connectives again divided into those which unite substantive clauses, those which unite adjective claiises, and those which unite adverbial clauses ! "What are children to make of all these hard words ? Or, supposing they are made to understand the words, will it enable them to use the word and, for instance, more correctly by informing them that it is a copulative conjunction ? 32. INTEEJECTIONS. This name comes from two Latin words : inter, which means betvjeen, and jectio, which means something thrown. So that the full, literal mean- Parts of Speerh. 23 ing of the wonl is somethutf/ thrown betwee)i. The Inter- jections are ^Ih/ Oh! Alas! and such like, which, in- deed, are not irords, because they have no definite meaning. They are mere sounds, and they have been mentioned by me merely because other grammaiians have considered them as being a Pai-t of Speech. But this one notice of them A\-ill be quite sufficient. Here Cobbett's defective knowledge of Latin crops out, for Jectio (jacio) does not mean soinetliing thrawn, but merely to throw. But he is quite right in setting down interjections as forming no part of grammar. A Avriter in Chambers's Encyclopedia hits the mark still more effect ively when lie says that "they are, in fact, more ukin to the sounds emitted by the lower animals than to articulate speech." Yet most grammarians take the trouble to set them down in classes, those that express surprise, those that express fear, and so on ; as if the veriest boor that ever hopped over a clod would not know how to utter an exclamation expressing fear or surprise when he felt it! It is something very much like the Irishman's "teaching ducks to swim." 33. Thus, then, you are now able to distinguish, in many cases at least, to what Pai't of Speech belongs each of the several words which may come under your observa- tion. I shall now proceed to the Etymology of each of these Pai'ts of Speech. As we have done with the Inter- jections, there will remain only eight Pai'ts to treat of, and this I shall do in eight Letters, allotting one Letter to each Part of Speech. Here it seems proper to say to the thoughtful scholar that a word may (as remarked by Mr. White) belong to almost any part of speech, according to its use. We say dog is a noun ; and so it is when it means an animal of the dog species ; but it may be a verb or an adjective ; as, he will dog me to my home ; here is a dog cart. In tins very phrase, "dog species," it is an adjective. Take, again, the word but. I will give it to you of four different parts of speech in four different senses. "I will go, hut I will return. He is but five years old. Tiie goat will but his head against you. He always has a but in his sayings." And the word could no doubt be used in still other parts of speech. If you cannot make these out now, wait a little; you will be able to do so by-and-by. 24 JStymology Spelled with two t's, there are three different butts, with three different meanings ; the butt of ridicule, the butt of a segar, the butt of wine. Then, again, a word may be of two different parts of speech with a different accent, as, I re-cord' the deed ; this is the rec'-ord. You see, therefore, every thing depends on the sense or the use made of a word ; and you see, too, the utter uselessness of learning by heart instead of by reason. In learning any art or science, an ounce of understanding is worth a ton of memory. LETTER IV. etymology of articles. My dear James: 34. In Letter III., paragraph 13, you have seen what sort of words Articles are ; that is to say, you have there learned how to distinguish the words belonging to this Part of Speech from words belonging to other Parts of Speech. You must now turn to Letter II., paragraph 8. Having read what you find there under the head of JEty- mology, you will see at once, that my business, in this present Letter, is to teach you those principles and rules according to which Articles are varied in order to make them suit the different circumstances which they are used to express. 35. You have seen that there are but three Articles, namely, A or AN, and THE. The two former are, in fact, the same word, but of this I shall say more presently. They are called indefinite Articles, because they do not define, or determine, what particular object is spoken of. The Nouns, to which they are prefixed, only serve to poiat out the sort of person or thiag spoken of, without defin- ing what person or what thing ; as, a tree is Mowed down. From this we learn that some tree is blowed down, but not what tree. But the definite Article THE determines the particular object of which we speak ; as, the tree which Of Articles. 25 stood close beside the bar 71 is blowed down. In this last instance, we are not only informed that a tree is blowed down, but the sentence also informs us what particulai* tree it is. This Ai'ticle is used before noims in the plural as well as before nouns in the singvdar number. It is sometimes used before words expressive of degrees of comparison ; as, the best, the toorst, the highest, the lotcest. When we use a noun in the singular number to express a whole species, or sort, we use the definite Article ; thus, we say, the oak is a fine tree, when we mean that oaks are fine trees. 36. The Article A becomes AN when this Article comes immediately before any word which begins with a voxoel. This is for the sake of the sound, as an adder, an elephant, an huh, an oily seed, an ugly hat. The word an is also used before words which begin with an h which is mute ; that is to say, which, though used in wi'itmg, is not sounded in speaking ; as, an hour. This little variation in the article is, as I said before, for the sake of the sound; for it would be veiy disagreeable to say, a adder, a ele- 2^hant, a inch, a oily seed, a ugly hat, a hour, and the like. But a is used in the usual way before words which begin with an h which is sounded in speaking ; as, a horse, a hair, and the like. The indefinite Ai'ticle can be used before nouns in the singular number only. There is a seeming exception to this rule in cases where the words fe^o and many come before the noun; as, a/ew horses; a great many horses ; but, in reality, this is not an excep- tion, because the words feio and many mean nutnber / thus, a small mimber of horses, a great number of horses; and the indefinite Article agrees with this word number, which is understood, and wliich is in the singular. It is remarkable that a man of Cobbetl's discernment did not see through a certain inconsistency in tlie strict or literal application of this rule, llie more especially as he explicitly declares tliat the change is made for tlie sake of the sound. lie, like u thousand 2 26 Etymology others to the present day, followed out the letter of the rule and violated its spirit. For a word may begin with a vowel and yet have a consonant sound; and in this case the article must not be changed. Does it not sound much better to say, "a useful book," than "an useful book?" "such a one," than "such an one?" And it will be seen that when we say a useful hook, a one, a union, a ewe, a European, and the like, we really conform to the spirit of the rule ; for in all these cases the words begin with the SOUND of a consonant ; as, a yuseful book, a wone, a yunion, a yewe, a yeuropean. And this also clearly illustrates something else that has been left mysteriously indefinite in many grammars : ' ' The vowels are a, e, i, o, u, and sometimes w and y." What a puzzle this used to be to me in my grammar-studying days! There was the rule, plain enough; but loJien w and y were consonants, I knew no more than the man in the moon ! I suppose that these writers of gram- mars repeat this rule, one after another, without knowing anything about it themselves. Now the rea;son here given why the indefinite article must remain unchanged before words beginning with a vowel and having & y or w sound, explains the whole matter; namely, that y and w at the BEGiNNisa of a syllable are consonants but in the middle or at the end of a syllable are vowels. In the word sympathy, for instance, both y^s are vowels, because they are equal to i's; in the word yesterday, the first is a consonant, and the second a vowel. It is precisely the same with the w; in the words neto, few, pew, the w''s are vowels, being equal to u''s; in the word window, the first is a consonant and the second a vowel. But there is another rule concerning words beginning with h, a rule of which Cobbett and many other writers of his day seem to have been unaware — although I have no doubt they unconsciously obeyed it — which is also formed for the sake of the sound. In these four words, for instance, Mstoi'y, historical, hero, heroic, the h is uni- formly sounded, or aspirated. Yet we say an historical fact, an heroic poem, a history, a hero. How does this come ? It is because we must say an before words beginning with h aspirate, when the accent of such words falls on the second syllable. That is the rule. Say, therefore, an hotel, an hereditary prince, and not, as many do, a hotel, a liereditary prince; for the former sounds better. I may here add that the tendency now-a-days is to sound the h in some words in which it was formerly silent : a humble man, a hospital, a hostler. I suppose Dickens's Uriah Heep has made most people disgusted with "an 'umble man." And it is perhaps Of Nouns. 27 worth remarking here that many Americans make a serious mistake when they believe that all Englishmen drop their ailches, and put them in where they ought not to do so. The latter is never done by auybody in England but illiterate Londoners, and the former seldom by Englishmen of any culture. I notice that recent grammarians follow Noah Webster in setting down articles as adjectives. It is true that these words always modify nouns in some way ; but I see no advantage in setting them down among a class of words which generally signify the kind or quality of things, tlms rendering the adjective itself all the more difficult to define. Besides, the articles have characteristics en- tirely their own, wliich can be remembered the better by keeping them apart. We shall see this more clearly by-and-by. LETTER V. ETYMOLOGY OF NOUNS. 37. This, my dear James, is a Letter of great import- ance, and, therefore, it will require great attention from you. Before you proceed fm-ther, you will again look well at Letter 11., pai-agraph 8, and Letter m., para- graphs 14, 15, and 16, and there read carefully everything under the head of Nouns. 38. Now, then, as Letter III. has taught you how to distinguish Nouns from the Avords which belong to the other Pai'ts of Speech, the business here is to teach you the principles and rules according to which Nouns are to be varied in the letters of which they are composed, ac- cording to which they ai'e to be used, and according to which they ai'e to be considered in theii- beai'ings upon other words in the sentences in which they are used. 39. In a Noun there are to be considered the branches, the numbers, the yenders, and the cases; and all these must be attended to very carefully. 40. THE BllANCHES. There aie two ; for Nouns are 28 Etymology some of them proper and some common. A Noun is called proper when it is used to distinguish one particular indi- vidual from the rest of the individuals of the same species or kind; as James, JBotley, Uam^pshire. The Noun is called com,mon when it appHes to all the individuals of a kind ; as, man, milage, county. JBotley is a proper Noun, because all villages have not this name ; but village is a common noun, because all villages are called by that name : the name is common to them all. Several persons have the name of James, to be sure, and there is a Hamp- shire in America as well as in England ; but, still, these are proper names, because the former is not common to all men, nor the latter to all counties. Proper Nouns take no articles before them, because the extent of their meaning is clearly pointed out in the word itself. In. fig- urative language, of which you will know more by-and-by, we sometimes, however, use the article ; as, " Goldsmith is a very pretty poet, but not to be compared to the Popes, the Drydens, or the Otways." And again; "I wish I had the wit of a Swift.'''' We also use the definite article be- fore proper Nouns when a common Noun is understood to be left out ; as. The Delaware, meaning the River Del- aware. Also when we speak of more than one person of the same name ; as, the Henries, the Edwards. A very important difference in the use of proper and common nouns is, that the former are written witli a capital letter, and the latter are not. This is the general rule, and it is generally observed ; but some writers begin every word they think important with a capital letter, and nobody is more peculiar in this respect than Cobbett himself. He writes noun, you see, with a capital, although it is a common noun. Formerly every noun used to be written with a capital letter, as is done in German till this day. Thomas Carlyle is another singular punctuator and capitalizer ; but he is singular in all things. 41. THE NUMBEES. These are the Singular and the Plural. The Singular is the original word ; and, in general, the Plural is formed by adding an s to the singu- Of Nouns. 29 lai', as dog^ do(js. But though the greater part of our Nouns form theu- pluials from the smgular in this simple manner, there ai"e many which do not; while there are some Nouns which have no phu-al number at all, and some which have no suigular. Therefore, considering the above to be the Fikst Rule, I shall add other rules with regaixl to the Nouns which do not follow that Rule. — The Second Rule. Nouns, the suigular numbers of which end in cA, s, sA, or a.', requh-e es to be added in order to form their plru'al number; as, church, churches; brush, brushes; lass, lasses / fox, foxes. — The Third Rule is that Nouns which end in y, when the y has a consonant coming im- mediately before it, change the y into ies in forming then- plurals; as, quantity, quantities. But you must mind that if the y be not immediately preceded by a consonant, the words follow the First Mule, and take only an s in addition to their singular ; as, day, days. I am the more anxious to guai'd you against error as to this matter, be- cause it is very common to see men of high rank and pro- fession writing vallies, vollies, attornies, correspondencies, convetiiencies, and the like, and yet all these are erroneous. Correspondence and inco7ive?iience should have simply an sy for they end ia e, and not in y. — The Fourth Rule is, that Noims which end in a single /, or in fe, form their plm-als by changing the/, orfe, into ves/ as, loaf loaves/ xoife, loives. But this rtde has exceptions, in the following words, which follow the First Rule : Dwarf scarf, mis- chief handkerchief chief relief, grief and others. The two last are seldom used in the plural number ; but, as they sometimes ai'e, I have included them. — The Fifth Rule is, that the following Nouns have their plui-al in en; tium, tnen; woman, xoomen ; ox, oxen; child, children. And brethren is sometimes used as the plm-al of brother. — The Sixth Rule is, that all which nature, or art, or habit, has made plural, have no singular ; as, ashes, annals, bel- lows, bowels, thanks, breeches, entrails, lungs, scissors. 30 Etymology snuffers, tongs, wages, and some others. There are also some Nouns which have no plurals, such as those which express the qualities, or propensities, or feelings, of the mind or heart ; as, honesty, meekness, compassion. There are, further, several names of herbs, metals, minerals, liquids, and of fleshy substances, which have no plurals ; to which may be added the names of almost all sorts of grain. There are exceptions here; for while wheat has no plural, oats has seldom any singular. But all these words, and others which are irregular, in a similar way, are of such very common use that you will hardly ever make a mistake in applying them ; for I will not suppose it possible for my dear James to fall into either the com- pany or the language of those who talk, and even write, about barleys, wheats, clovers, flours, grasses, and malts. There remain to be noticed, however, some words which are too irregular in the forming of their pliurals to be brought under any distinct head even of irregularity. I will, therefore, insert these as they are used in both numbers. SINGULAR. PLUEAL. SINGULAR. PLURAL. Die, Dice, Goose, Geese. Mouse, Mice, Penny, Pence, Louse, Lice, Tooth, Teeth, Deer, Deer, Foot, Feet. Die, dice. This is tlie little cubic implement of the gamester ; but the more worthy implement of the die-sinker is regular ; die, dies. You must not confound this with the dye and dyes of the dyer. It is customary to change penny to pence when speaking of a sum of money ; but, in speaking of penny-pieces, the word is regular ; as, I have a pocketful of pennies. By-the-bye, all such words as this word pocketful are also regular; thxee pocketfuls, four spoonfuls, five shovelfuls. Three pocketsful would be quite another thing. Then again, we must, from the nature of the words, say mothers-in-law, cousins-german, courts-martial; for the words in-law, german, and martial, are adjectives or qualifyiirg words, and adjectives, in English, never make any change to express number. Englishman and Frenehman become Englishmen and Frenchmen ; Of Nouns. 31 but not all the nationalities ending in tnan become men; there are the Ramans, tlie Normanx, and the Oei-mans, brave manly races, no doubt, but who will say that the Mttssv-lmans, Turkomans and OttomanH deserve to be called men ? Most of the nouns ending in o, add es to form the plural ; as, negro, negroes. There are only a few exceptions; as, folio, quarto, duodecimo, piano, nuncio, cameo, which follow the general rule. I think it useless to clap down every one of the excep- tions ; for, in the first place, usage is gradually changing the form of some of these words (motto, portico); and, in the second place, the reader can always, when necessary, find the desired informa- tion by reference to the dictionary. ' ' I always did admire that speech!" were the sarcastic words of Mr. Butler in reply to one of Mr. Bingham's speeches. I may say the same thing, unsai'casti- cally, of the replj^ of a young' candidate for the bar, who, on being asked some isolated, unimportant question, said, "I could find that out in two minutes by reference to an encyclopedia." There are some nouns, with a plural form but a singular mean- ing, that are always used in the singular. "The nwlmiies is sticky. The measles is spreading. What is the news? He has made a sei^ies of blunders. The pains he has taken to repair them is remarkable. Mathematics (physics, optics, &c.) is an interesting science." Look, therefore, to the meaning and not the form of the word. Deer, sheep, swine, vermin, are the same in both singular and plural ; but snipe, trout, salmon, fish, and the like, become plural when number is signified, and singular when quantity is signified. "Here are two snipes; I have shot a quantity of snipe. Here are three fishes, three salmons ; I have caught a lot of fish, of salmon." Dozen &ndpair are used like hundred and thousand; that is, singu- lar with an}^ other number, but plural without any olher number. "I saw dozens of those creatures; they walked in pairs; I shot five dozen partridges and bought six pair of pigeons. Five hundred men; there were hundreds of men." In some compound nouns, both parts are made plural : man- servant, men-servants; woman-servant, women-servants; knight- lemplar, knights-templars. To prevent a confusion of things, we must add 's to figures and letters to indicate the plural: "I want three 5's and four 6's. Mind your p's and q's, and dot your i's." There are a number of names of persons and things in war affairs that do not make any change for the plural ; as, 300 fnot (meaning foot-soldiers, or infantry). 32 Etymology 400 horse (meaning horse-soldiers, or cavalry). 100 cannon ; although we also say, many cannons ; a number of cannons. 500 head (of cattle). 40 yoke of oxen. 50 sail (meaning ships). This is a practice that seems to come from the German language, in which words of measure or quantity do not, generally, change to indicate plurality. Drei Pfund, zehn FusS; vier Zoll. Among proper nouns, the only peculiarity is one concerning the young ladies; for in speaking of them, you may give their title or their name the sign of the plural ; you may say, the Misses Campbell or the Miss Campbells, just as you please. The latter is, I think, the more common usage, and the one that is likely to prevail ; for it is more natural than the former, and prevents con- founding the young ladies with their mamma, Mrs. Campbell. (How is it, by-the-way, that most of the children in this country say mam'ma and pap' a instead of mam-ma' and pa-pa', which is the proper pronunciation?) In addressing people, in conversation, we say sir to one person, and gentlemen to several ; miss (or Miss So- and-So) to one, and ladies to several. Good morning, sir. Good morning, gentlemen. Good morning, miss (or Miss Jennie). Good morning, ladies. And here let me throw in, without any extra charge, a bit of information for my young reader, which has something to do with politeness as well as with grammar ; namely, that when you meet two persons in the street, only one of whom you know, it is proper for you to address both while saluting them : Good morning, gentlemen. Just as the girls get Miss, the boys ought to get Master. This, however, is more common in England than in this country. There the school-boy gets sounder floggings than he does here ; but they don't rob him of his title; he is still Master Charles or Master Willie, even if he be flogged every day. 42. THE GENDERS. In the French language, and many other languages, every Noun is of the masculine or of the feminine gender. Hand, for instance, is of the feminine, and arm of the masculine ; pen of the feminine, axidipaper of the masculine. This is not the case with our language, which, in this respect, has followed the order of nature. The names of all males are of the masculine Of Nouns. 33 gender; the names of all^/ewia/e.s" are of the feminine gen- der; and all other Nouns ai'e of the neuter (jetider. And you must observe that, even in speaking of living crea- tures, of which we do not know the gender, we consider them to be of the neuter. In strictness of language, we could not, perhaps, apply the term gender to things desti- tute of all sexual properties ; but, as it is applied with perfect propriety in the case of males and females, and as the application in the case of inanimate or vegetable mat- ter can lead to no grammatical error, I have thought it best to follow, in this respect, the example of other gram- maiians. It may be said that the rule which I have here laid down as being without any exception, has many ex- ceptions ; for that, in speaking of a ship., we say she and her. And you know our country folks in Hampshu-e call almost everything he or she. Sailors have, for ages, called their vessels shes., and it has been found easier to adopt than to eradicate the vulgarism, which is not only tolerated but cherished by that j ust admiration in which owx country holds the species of skill and of valor to which it owes much of its greatness and renown. It is curious to ob- ser\'e that covmtiy laborers give the feminine appellations to those things only which ai-e more closely identified with themselves, and by the qualities and condition of which their own efiforts and thek chai'acter as workmen ai'e affected. The mower calls his scythe a she; the ploughman calls his plough a she; but a prong, or a shovel, or a hai-row, which passes promiscuously from hand to hand, and which is appropriated to no pai'ticulai* laborer, is called a he. It was, doubtless, from this sort of habitual attachment that oui- famous maritime solecism ai-ose. The deeds of laborers m the fields and of artizans in their shops ai'e not of pubhc interest sufiiciently com- manding to enable them to break in upon the principles of language ; if they were, we should soon have as many hes and sfies as the French, or any other nation in the world. 34 Etymology 43. WMle, however, I lay down this rule as required by strict grammatical correctness, I must not omit to observe that the license allowed to figurative language enables us to give the masculine or feminine gender to inanimate objects. This has justly been regarded as a great advantage in our language. We can, whenever our subject will justify it, transform into masculine, or into feminine, nouns which are, strictly speaking, neuter; and thus, by giving the functions of life to inaiiimate objects, enliven and elevate our style, and give to our expressions great additional dignity and force. This is the figure called personification, which may be illustrated by such examples as these: " Grim-visaged War hath smoothed Ms wrinkled front." '■'■PeoA^e hath her victories no less I'enowned than TFar." "I care not, Fortune, what you me deny; you can- not rob me of free Nature's grace; you cannot shut the win- dows of the sky, through which Aurora shows her brightening face." Notice that a noun personified is always spelled with a capital letter ; and that the noun is made masculine or feminine according to its nature. Some grammarians speak of a fourth gender, the common gender. Nouns that are common to both genders, they call-auch; as, friend, parent, cook, slave. But there is really no necessity for such a distinction. When I speak of a friend, I certainljLknow whether that friend is man or woman, and it is very easy t^let my hearer or reader know, too, if necessary. If I do not in^cate it by the pronoun, my hearer or reader may assume that the friend is man or woman, as he thinks fit ; but he cannot think of him or her as both at once. Indeed the gender is usually indicated by the context ; that is, by the parts of the discourse preceding and suc- ceeding the word in question. I can hardly speak of a person without using he or sh£. The Germans generally add in to the masculine noun to make it feminine, as, Freund, Freundinn; the French generally add e to the masculine form; as, servant, servante ; and the only form in English that is regular is adding ess to the masculine, or changing its ending into ess; as, mayor, mayoress; hunter, huntress; actor, actress; count, countess; duke, duchess. As this, however, can be applied to but compar- atively few words in our language, we are obliged to make use of vai'ious expedients to indicate gender; as, dog-fox, bitch-fox ; Of Nouns. 35 cock-sparrow, hen-sparrow ; he-goat, she-goat; male cook, female cook. Generally, however, in speaking of animals, and also of infants, the distinction of sex is not observed; that is to say, these are usually spoken of in the neuter gender. "What a handsome bird it is I Look at that dog ! What a noble creature it is ! Did 3'ou see the baby? What an interesting child it is!" When we speak of any bird or animal distinguished for its boldness, size, or other quality peculiar to the male, we usually give it the masculine gender, even if its sex is not known. Such are, for instance, the horse or steed, the eagle, the condor, the mastiff, the St. Bernard or Newfoundland dog, and the like. Of course, all animals are personified in fables. As tlie words male 'xwA. female carry a rather animalish significance with them, we sometimes say a lady-friend, a gentleman-rider, a hoy-singer. Somebody has observed that the words over the public-school entrances, "Entrance Sov males," "Entrance for feniiUes," sound as if they were entrances for so many little he- bears and she-bears, and therefore prefers "Entrance for boys," "Entrance for girls." It is far better to speak, for instance, of a country being governed by a woman than by a female. 44. THE CASES. The word case, as appHecl to the concerns of hfe, has a variety of meanings, or of different shades of meaning ; but its general meaning is state of things, or state of something. Thus we say, " In that case, I agree ynih you." Meaning, " that being the state of things, or that being the state of the matter, I agi'ee with you." Lawyers ai'e said "to make out their case ; or not to make out their case/'' meaning the state of the matter which they have undertaken to prove. So, when we say that a horse is in good case, we mean that he is in a good state. Novms may be in different states, or situa- tions, as to other Nouns, or other words. For instance, a Noun may be the name of a person who strikes a horse, or of a person -who possesses a horse, or of a person whom a horse kicks. And these different situations, or states, are, thei'efore, called cases. 4/3. You will not fully comprehend the use of these distinctions till you come to the Letter (m T^er//s ; but it 36 JEtynioldgy is necessary to explain here the nature of these cases, in order that you may be prepared well for the use of the terms, -when I come to speak of the Verbs. In the Latin language each Noun has several different endings, in order to denote the different cases in which it may be. In our language there is but one of the cases of Nouns which is expressed or denoted by a change in the ending of the Noun ; and of this change I will speak presently. 46. There are three Cases : the Nominative, the Pos- sessive, and the Objective. A Noun is in the Nominative case when it denotes a person, or thing, which does some- thing or is something; as, Richard strikes ; Richard is good. 47. A Noun is in the Possessive case when it names a person or thing that jsossesses some other person or thing, or when there is one of the persons or things he- longing to the other; as, Richard'' s hat; the mountain's top ; the nation's fleet. Here Richard, mountain, and nation, are in the possessive case, because they denote persons or things yihioh. possess other persons or things, or have other persons or things belonging to them. And here is that change in the ending of the Noun, of which I spoke above. You see that Richard, mountain, nation, has, each of them, an s added to it, and a mark of elision over ; that is to say, a coinma, placed above the line, between the last letter of the word and the s. This is done for the purpose of distinguishing this case from the plural number ; or, at least, it answers the purpose in all cases where the plural of the Noun would end in an s ; though there are different opinions as to the origin of its use. In Nouns which do not end their pliu'al in s, the mark of elision would not appear to be absolutely neces- sary. We might write mans mind, womans heart, but it is best to use the mark of elision. When plural Nouns end with s, you must not add an s to form the possessive case, but put the ehsion mark only after the s which ends Of JVouns. 37 the Noiin ; as, moicntains' tops ; nations' fleets ; lasses' charms. Observe, however, that, in every instance, the possessive case may be expressed by a turn of the words ; as, the hat of Richard ; the top of the mountain^ the fleet of the nation ; the mind of man; and so on. The Nouns, notwithstanding this turn of the words, are still in the possessive case; and, as to when one mode of expression is best, and when the other, it is a matter which must be left to taste. 48. A noun is in the Objective case when the person or thing that it names or denotes is the object or end of some act or of some movement, of some kind or other; Richai'd strikes Peter ; Richard gave a blow to Peter ; Richard goes after Peter ; Richai'd hates Peter ; Richard wants arms ; Richard seeks a/i!erya»iey falsehood leads to mischief; oppression produces resistance. Here you see that all these Nouns in the objective case are the object, the end, or the effect, of something done or felt by some person or thing, and wliich other person or thing is in the nominative case. That is to say, a noun is alawys the object of one of two things, tt transitive verb or a preposition. I don't think there is anything that enables one to understand this matter of case so well as a proper comprehension of the difference between the transitive and the in- transitive verb. I know I never understood it until I learned what a transitive verb was. — We have seen that verbs are words express- mg action or a state of being. Now watch. " I walk in the field ; I run every day ; I dream very often ; I live in Hoboken." Here the verbs walk, run, dream, live, express an action which does not pass from the actor or subject ; it is confined to him ; does not pass accr to any thing; it is therefore intransitive. "I walk a luyrse; I run 'A grist-mill; I dream bad dreams; I live the lie down." Here the action passes from the actor to something else; itgoes over to some- tlung; the verb is, therefore, transitive. Now wherever this is the case, wherever the action passes to some object, that object or thing or noun is in the objective case. Again: " The boy is choking" — "the boy is choking the cat." In the first instance, the verb is intransitive; in the second, it is transitive, and "cat" is conse- 38 Etyniology quently in the objective case. Besides the transitive verb, there is, as I liave said, only one other thing that can put a noun in the objective case, and that is the preposition, which always governs the objective case, or puts whatever thing follows it in the objective case. You notice this in the above examples of Cobbett's •, noun each time comes after a transitive verb or a preposition. In the examples I gave you with tJie desk (Letter III, par. 29), that word is invariably in the objective case. As to the nominative case (the subject), the name of the person or thing that does, is, or suffers something is in that case. Notice that a noun following the verb to be is always in the nominative case. The Germans, in their expressive language, call these three cases the who-case, the wTwse-ease, and the whom-case. Just try this, and you will see that the nominative answers to WJio? tiie possessive to Whose? and the objective to Whom? LETTER VI. etymology of pronouns. My dear James : 49. You will now refer to paragraphs 17, 18, and 19, in Letter III ; wluch paragraphs will refresh your memory as to the general nature and use of Pronouns. Then, in proceeding to become well acquainted with this Part of Speech, you will first observe that there are four classes, or descriptions, of Pronouns : first, the Personal^ second, the Pelative; third, the I>emonstratme; and, fourth, the Indefinite. 50. In PERSONAL PRONOUNS there are four things to be considered: the person, the number, the gender, and the case. 51. There are three, persons. The Pronoun which represents, or stands in the place of, the name of the per- son who speaks, is called the first person/ that which stands in the place of the name of the person who is spoken to, is called the second person / that which stands Of Pronouns. 39 in the place of the name of the person who is spoken of, is csvllecl the M//y?^)f'r.s'o?«.. For example: "7" am asking yoxt about himP This cu'cumstance of person you will by-ancl-by finil to be of great moment ; because, as you will see, the verbs vaiy theu* endings sometimes to coiTe- spond with the person of the Pronoun ; and, therefore you ought to pay strict attention to it at the outset. 52. The number is either singular or j)lui'al, and the Pronouns vary then' spp^.luV; to exj)ress a difference of number; as ia this table, which shows, at once, all the persons and all the numbers. SINGULAR. PLUKAL. First person I, We. Second person Thou, You. Third person He, They. 53. The next thing is the gender. The Pronouns of the fii'st and second person have no changes to express gender; but the third person singular has changes for that purpose: he, she, or it/ and I need not point out to you the cases where one of these ought to be used instead of the other. 54. The case is the last thing to be consid'fered in per- sonal Pronouns. The meaning of the word case, as used in the rules of Grammar, I have fully explained to you in Letter V, paiagraph 44. In paiagraphs 45, 46, 47, and 48, in the same Letter, I have treated of the distiaction between the cases. Read all those pai'agraphs again before you proceed further : for now you will find then- meaning more cleai'ly explauied to you ; because the per- sonal Pronouns, and also some of the other Pronouns, have different end'mgs, or are comjjosed of different let- ters, in order to poiut out the different cases iu which they are : as, he, his, him. 55. The personal Pronouns have, like the nouns, three cases: the Nomuiatlve^ i\\Q J'ossessiije, and the Objective. 40 Etymology The following table exhibits the whole of them at one view, with all the circumstances of person, number, gender, and case. First Person SINGULAE NUMBER. Mominatwe. Possessive. My, I, Second Person Thou, Masc. Gen. He, Third Pers. ,Femin. " Neuter " She, It, Mine, Thy, Thine, His, Her, Hers, Its, PLURAL NUMBER. First Person Nominative. We, Second Person Masc. Gen. You, Possessive. j" Our, ] Ours, ^ Your, j Yours, Objective. Me. Thee. Him. Her. It. Objective. Us. You. Third Pers. Their, Theirs, Them. They, Femin. " They, ^Neuter " They, ^ 56. Upon this table there are some remarks to be attended to. In the possessive cases of I, Thou, She, We, You, and They, there are two different words : as, My, or Mine ; but you know that the former is used when followed by the name of the person or thing pos- sessed ; and that the latter is used when not so followed ; as, "This is ??*2/j9e?i/ this pen is mine.'''' And it is the same with regard to the possessive cases of Thou, /She, Wcj You, and They. Of Pronouns. 41 The same grammarians that wish to call every word that stands before a noun an (uljective, call these words, viy, thy, hin, your, tlieir, possessive adjectives ; they call them such when coming di- rectly before a noun, and pronouns when standing alone. I know no change more iitterly useless and confusing. Do they not always stand in the place of nouns in the possessive case? "I met Tom Jones, and gave him a message from Ms father." Does this his not stand for Tarn's, a noun in the possessive case ? When Billy Clutterlmck says, "This is my dog," does it not mean, Tliis is Billy Clutterbuck's dog? 57. 77ioic is here given as the seco?id person singular/ but common custom has set aside the rules of Grammar in this case ; and though we, in particular cases, still make use of 77i()u and Thee, we generally make use of Yoic instead of either of them. According to ancient rule and custom this is not correct ; but what a whole people adopts and universally practises must, in such cases, be deemed correct, and to be a superseding of ancient rult; and custom. 58. Instead of ^oio the ancient practice was to j)ut ye in the nominative case of the second person pluiul ; but this j)ractice is now laid aside, except in cases which very seldom occm* ; but whenever ye is made use of, it must be in the oiominatlve, and nerer in the objective, case. I may, speaking to several persons, say, " Ye have injui-ed me," but not "I have injured ye." There is nothing that more strikingly displays the spii'it of caste in Germany than the fact that there are four different ways in German of saying you, according to the rank or social position of the person addressed (Sie, du, ihr, er). In English, we say you to the President, and you to a beggar ; you to a king, and you to an assemblage of kings ; and this is characteristic of the sturdy love of fair play (a word for which there is no proper equivalent in Ger- man) among the English race. Among German students, there are only two classes worthy of respect; those Wiai are students, and those that have been students; all the rest are cattle. — Te is never used now except in the solemn style, nominative plural: O ye boys of America, beware of the cheap story -papers, and the cheap and 42 Etymology nasty story-books, for they carry the seeds of a disease that kill soul and body, something far worse than small-pox or yellow-fever ! It is a remarkable fact that many of our obsolete expressions are retained for the solemn style. Thou, thy, thee are now used in prayer, and in solemn compositions, such sis Coleridge's Hymn to Mont Blanc, or Milton's Paradise Lost. 59. The words self and selves are sometimes added to the personal Pronouns ; as myself thyself himself ; but, as these compounded words are liable to no variations that can possibly lead to error, it will be useless to do any- thing fui'ther than just to notice them. 60. The Pronoun ^7, though a personal Pronoun, does not always stand for, or at least appear to stand for, any noun whatever ; but is used in order to point out a state of things, or the cause of something produced. For instance : " It freezed hard last night, and it was so cold, that it was with great difficulty the travellers kept on their journey." Now, lohat was it that freezed so hard? Not the frost ; because the frost is the effect, and not the cause of freezing. We cannot say that it was the weather that freezed ; because the freezing constituted in part the weather itself. No ; the Pronoun it stands, in this place, for state of things, or circumstances / and this sentence might be written thus : " The freezing was so hard last night, and the cold was so severe, that the travellers found great difficulty in keepmg on their journey." Let us take another example or two : " It is a frost this morn- ing. It will rain to-night. .,It will be fine to-morrow." That is to say, " A state of things called frost exists this morning ; a state of things called rain will exist to-night ; and to-morrow a state of things called fine weather." Another example : " It is delightful to see brothers and sisters living in uninterrupted love to the end of their days." That is to say, " The state of things which ex- hibits brothers and sisters living in iminterrupted love to the end of their days is delightful to see." The Pronoun Of Pronouns. 43 it is, in this its iiiipersonal capacit}-, used in a great vaiiety of iustances ; but I f orbeai' to extend my remarks on the subject here; because those remai'ks will find a more suitable place when I come to another part of my instructions. I have said enough here to prevent the puzzlmg that might have arisen from your perceiving that the Pronoun it was sometimes used without your bemg able to trace its connection with any noun either expressed or Tinderstood 61. In order, however, farther to illustrate this matter in this place, I will make a remai'k or two upon the use of the word there. Example : " There are many men, who have been at Latin schools for yeai's, and who, at last, cannot wiite six sentences in English correctly," Now, you know, the word there, in its usual sense, has reference to 2)lace ; yet it has no such reference here. The mean- ing is that " Many men are in existence who have been at Latin schools." Again : " There never teas any thing so beautiful as that flower." That is to say, "Any thing so beautiful as that flower never existed, or never vms i?i beifif/.'^ It may, perhaps, be useful for you to know (especially if you intend to pass an examination) that the word t/iet'e in the sentences here given is called an expletive, which means a word used merely to fill up a vacancy. You can always leave it out without altering the sense. "There is a tree in tlie garden" is nothing but "a tree is in the garden." And you will now, perhaps, be better able to understand Pope's satirical lines on the works of poor authors : "While expletives their feeble aid do join, And ten slow words oft creep in one dull line." G2. We now come to the RELATIVE PRONOUNS, of which class there are only three/ namely, IVho, Which, and That. The two latter always remain the same, thi-ough all numbers, genders, and cases ; but the Pro- noun wAo changes its endings in order to express the possessive and objective cases; as, who, tohose, whom. 44: Mtymology 63. These Pronouns ai-e called relative, because they always relate directly to some noun or some personal Pronoun, or to some combination of words, which is called the antecedent ; that is to say,. the person or thing going before. Thus : " The soldier who was killed at the siege." ;iSoZ(r?ier is the antecedent. Again: "The men, if I am rightly informed, who came hither last night, who went away this morning, whose money you have received, and to lohom you gave a receipt, are natives of South America." Men is here the antecedent; and in this sentence there are all the variations to which this Pro- noun is liable. 64. WTio, v^hose, and whom cannot be used correctly as relatives to any Nouns or Pronouns which do not re- present oneii, wome7i, or children. It is not correct to say, the horse, or the dog, or the tree, v)ho was so and so ; or to whom was done this or that ; or whose color, or any thing else, was such or such. But the word That, as a relative Pronoun, may be applied to nouns of all sorts ; as, the hoy that ran ; the horse that galloped ; the tree that was blowed down. The real reason for this use of the word that, however, is be- cause we must sometimes find a pronoun that will stand for both men and animals together : ' ' The horses and the riders tJiat we saw are the favorites." And concerning the pronoun who, a change has taken place since Cobbett's time : we can now use it in the possessive case (whose) with reference to things as well as per- sons. " The mountain whose top is covered with snow," is con- sidered easier and more elegant than ' ' The mountain the top of which is covered with snow." The poets began to use this form, and prose- writers now use it too. By-the-way, you will notice that Cobbett is a little peculiar in using some irregular verbs in the regular form ; as, blowed and froze for blown and frose. More of this farther on. 65. Which, as a relative Pronoun, is confined to irra- tional creatures, and here it may be used as a relative in- differently with that y as, the horse which galloped ; the Of Pronouns. 45 tree which was blowed down. This application of the relative vhich solely to irrational creatures is, however, of modern date ; for, in the Lord's Prayei", in the English Church Service, we say, " Our Father vihich art in heaven." In the American Litui-gy this error has been corrected ; and they say, " Oui- Father who art in heaven." (SO). I cannot, even for the pi'esent, quit these relative Pronoiuis without observing to you that they are words of vast importance, and that more errors, and errors of gi-eater consequence, arise from a misapplication of them than fi'om the misapplication of almost all the other classes of words put together. The reason is this, they are relatives, and they frequently stand as the repre- sentatives of that which has gone before, and which stands in a distant part of the sentence. This will be more fully explained when I come to the iSytitax of Pronouns ; but the matter is of such great moment that I could not refi'ain from giving you an intimation of it here. 67. The DEMONSTEATIVE PRONOUNS are so called because they more particularly mark or demonstrate the nouns before which they ai'e placed, or for which they sometimes stand. They are. This, These, That, Those, and What. The use of them is so well known, and is liable to so httle error, that my chief object in giving them this sepai'ate place is to show you the difference be- tween That, when a relative, and when not a relative. Take an example : " Tliat man is not the man, as far as I am able to discover, that came hither last night." The first of these Thats does not relate to the man ; it merely points him out ; but the latter relates to him, carries you back to him, and supplies the place of repetition. This same word, That, is sometimes a Conjunction; as, " That man is not the man, as far as I can discover, that came hither last night, and that was so ill that he could hardly walk." The relative is repeated iu the third That; but 46 Etymology the fourth That is merely a conjunction serving to con- nect the effect of the illness with the cause. "I say that that tliat that that author uses is false." Try and discover the four different parts of speech represented by the word that in this sentence. — Tliis^ that, and their plural, these, those, are, like the articles, called limiting adjectives when used directly be- fore nouns; this hat, these hats. When used with reference to things pointed at, these refers to things nearer at hand than those. 68. Perhaps a profound exammation of the matter would lead to a proof of That being always a Pronoun; but, as such examination would be more cruious than use- ful, I shall content myself with having clearly shown you the difference in its offices, as a relative, as a demonstra- tive, and as a conjunction. 69. ~Wliat, together with v^ho, vjhose, whom, and which, are employed in asking questions • and are sometimes ranged under a separate head, and called Interrogative Pronouns. I have thought this unnecessary ; but here is an observation of importance to attend to; for tohich, though as a relative it cannot be applied to the intellectual species, is, as an interrogative, properly applied to that species ; as, " Which man was it who spoke to you f 70. What sometimes stands for both noun and relative Pronoun; as, " What I want is well known." That is to say, " The thing vnhich I want is well known." Indeed, xohat has, in all cases, this extended signification; for when, in the way of inquiry as to words which we have not clearly understood, we say. What? our full meaning is, "Repeat to us that which you have said," or, "the toords which you have spoken." In this sentence, "I gave him what (that which) he wanted," what is a relative pronoun ; but in this sentence, ' ' I gave him what funds he wanted," it is an adjective. Notice that we always say that, never what, after every thing, any thing, nothing, something, all things. 71. The INDETEBMINATE PBONOXJNS are so called Of .i(?Jectwes. 47«. because tliey express their objects in a general and inde- tenuinate manner. Several of them are also adjectives. It is only where they ai*e employed alone, that is to say, without nouns, that they ought to be regarded as Pro- nouns. For instance : " One is always hearing of the un- happiness of o?ie person or another. ^^ The first of these o/ies is a Pronoun; the last is an Adjective, as is also the word another; for a noun is tinder stood to follow, though it is not expressed. These pronouns are as follows : One, any, each, none, some, other, every, either, many, whoever, whatever, neither, and some few others, but all of them words invai-iable in then- orthography, and all of very common use. LETTER VII. etymology of adjectives. My de.\r James: 72. In Letter III, paragraph 21, I have described what an Adjective is. You will, therefore, now read that para- graph carefully over, before we proceed in studying the contents of the present Letter. 73. The Adjectives have no changes to express gender or case ; but they have changes to express degrees of com- parison. As Adjectives describe the qualities and proper- ties of nouns, and as these may be possessed in a degree higher in one case than in another case, such words have degrees of comparison; that is to say, changes in their endings, to suit these varying cu'cumstances. A tree may be high, but another may be higher, and a thu'd may be the highest. Adjectives have, then, these three degrees: the fii-st degree, or rather, tlie primitive word, called the J^ositive ; the second, the VonqHirative ; the third, the Superlative. For the forming of these degi-ees I shall 48 Mtymology give you four rules • and if you pay strict attention to these rules, you will need to be told very little more about this Part of Speech.. 74. First Rule. Adjectives in general, which end in a consonant, form their comparative degree by adding er to the positive, and form their superlative degree by adding est to the positive ; as, POSITIVE. OOMPAEATIVE. STJPEELA.TIVK. Rich, Richer, Richest. 75. Second Mule. Adjectives, which end in e, add, in forming their comparative, only an r, and in forming their superlative, st; as, POSITIVE. OOMPAEATIVE. SUPEELATIVE. Wise, Wiser, Wisest. 76. Third Hide. When the positive ends in d, g, or t, and when these consonants are, at the same time, preceded by a single votoel, the consonant is doubled in forming the comparative and sujDerlative ; as, POSITIVE. OOMPAEATIVE. SUPEELATIVE. Red, Redder, Reddest. Big, Bigger, Biggest. Hot, Hotter, Hottest. But, if the d, g, or t, be preceded by another consonant, or by more than one vowel, the final consonant is not doubled in the forming of the two latter degrees ; as, POSITIVE. OOMPAEATIVE. SUPEELATIVE. Kind, Kinder, Kindest. Neat, Neater, Neatest. 77. Fourth Mule. When the positive ends in y, pre- ceded by a consonant, the y changes into ie in the other degrees. POSITIVE. OOMPAEATIVE. SUPERLATIVE. Lovely, Lovelier, Loveliest. Pretty, Prettier, Prettiest. Of Acljectloen. 49 78. There ai'e some Adjectives which cau be reduced to no rule, and Avhich must be considered as irregular ; as, POSITIVE. OOMPAKATIVK. 8UPKRLATIVK. Good, Better, Best. Bad, Worse, Worst. Little, Less, Least. Much, More, Most. 79. Some Adjectives can have no degrees of compaiison, because then* signification admits of no augmentation ; as, all, each, every, any, several, some; and all the nrunerical Adjectives; as, one, two, three; first, second, third. But there are some other adjectives that do not admit of com- panson. Consider, for a moment, such words as true, round, square, perfect, dead. Properly speaking, nothing can be truer, rounder, squarer, more perfect, or deader than another; yet, in popular speech, these words are often used in the comparative or superlative degree. How often we hear people say, " I never saw any thmg more perfect;" "this figure is not quite so round as that;" and the like. I do not mean to say that such expressions are absolutely unpermissible ; only that they are not strictly cor- rect. To say "more nearly round" or "more nearly perfect" would be more nearly correct. These expressions, however, occur in the rapid flow of conversation, and perhaps express the idea intended better than a more correct (notice these very words) or more choice expression. Editors sometimes speak of a political question as " the deadest of all dead issues ;" which is very forcible language; and there is a comparison implied in the familiar ex- pressions, "dead as a door-nail, dead as Julius Caesar."— I may here mention that the word old, in its regular form, old, older, oldest, is used with reference to persons and things in general ; while the forms, elder, eldest, is used to distinguish kinsfolk or historical personages: my elder brother or nephew, my eldest sister or cousin; the elder Pliny, the elder Brutus, the elder or younger Pitt. Far, fartlier, fartJiest are used exclusively with reference to dis- tance; but we sometimes use the form furtlier, to indicate some- thing more, or to point out that we have something mo7'e to say on a sul)j(ct. Tiie latter form is also sometimes used as an adjective; have yoM'iwy furtlier objection? 3 50 Etymology 80. Adjectives which end in most are superlative, and admit of no change ; as, uttnost, uppermost, innermost. 81. However, you wUl observe that all Adjectives which admit of comparison may form their degrees by the use of the words more and most; as, POSITIVE. COMPAEATIVE. SUPEELATIVE. Rich, More rich, Most rich. Tender, More tender. Most tender. When the positive contains but one syllable, the degrees are usually formed by adding to the positive according to the four rules. When the positive contains ttoo syllables, it is a matter of taste which method you shall use in forming the degrees. The ear is, in this case, the best guide. But when the positive contains onore than two syllables, the degrees must be formed by the use of more and tnost. W^e may say tender and tenderest, pleasanter oxx^L pleasantest, prettier oxidi prettiest ; but who could tol- erate delicater and delicatest f Nobody but Thomas Carlyle, who uses beautifulest, wonderfulest, and the like. To use another of Carlyle's Germanisms, there is no question but this usage is unngTit. LETTER VIII. etymology of vekbs. My dear James: 82. The first thing you have to do in beginning your study, as to this important Part of Speech, is to read agam very slowly and carefully paragraphs 23, 24, 25, and 26, in Letter III. Having, by well attending to what is said in those paragraphs, learned to distinguish Yei'bs from the words belonging to other Parts of Speech, you will now enter, with a clear head, on an inquiry into the Of Verbs. 51 valuations to wliicli the words of this Part of Speech are liable. 83. Sorts of Verbs. Verbs are considered as active, passive, or neuter. A Verb is called active when it ex- presses an action which is produced by the nominative of the sentence; as, "Pitt re6'vill be more fully dwelt on in the Syntax. 90. The Time. — The Verb has vai-iations to express the time of an action; as, "Sidniouth writes a Cii'cular Letter; Sidmouth wrote a Cii-cular Letter ; Sidmouth will write a Cii-cular Letter." Again: "The Queen ch/ies the tyrants ; the Queen dejied the tyrants ; the Queen to ill defy the tyi'ants." The Times of a Verb are, therefore, called the present, the jjws^, and i\xe future. 91. The Modes. — The Modes of Verbs are the different manners of expressing an action or a state of being, which manners are sometimes positive, sometimes conditional, and sometimes indeterminate ^ and there are changes or variations, in the spelHng, or wiiting, of the Verb, or of the httle words used with the Verb, in order to express this difference in manner and sense. I will give you an instance : " He walks fast." " If he toalk fast, he will fatigue himself." In most other languages the Verb changes its form very often and very much to make it exjjress the different modes. In ours it does not ; because v.e have little words called signs, which we use with the Verbs instead of varying the form of the Verbs them- selves. To make this matter clear, I will give you an example of the English compai-ed with the French language in this respect. E. F. I march, Je m,arche. I mai'ched, Je marchais. I might mai'ch, Je marchasse. I should mareh^ Je marcherais. There are other variations in the French Verb ; but we e.'Fect the purposes of these vaiiations by the use of the ; ./jLiH, shall, may, might, could, would, and others. '.)2. The Modes ai-e foui* in number ; the Infinitioe, the . . dicative, the Subjunctive, and the Imperative. Besides 56 Etymology tliese, there are the two Participles, of which I shall speak presently. 93. The Infinitive Mode is the Verb in its primitive state ; as, to 'inarch. And this is called the Infinitive be- cause it is without bounds or limit. It merely expresses the action of marching, without any constraint as to per- son or number or time. The little word to makes, in fact, a part of the Verb. This word to is, of itself, a preposi- tion/ but, as prefixed to Verbs, it is merely a sign of the Infinitive Mode. In other languages there is no such sign. In the French, for instance, aller means to go/ ecrire means to write. Thus, then, you will bear in mind that in English, the to makes a part of the Verb itself, when in the Infinitive Mode. 94. The Indicative Mode is that in which we express an action, or state of being, positively; that is to say, without any condition, or any dependent circumstance. It merely indicates the action or state of being, without heing subjoined to anything which renders the action or state of being dependent on any other action or state of being. Thus: '■'■ He writes P This is the Indicative. 95. But the Subjunctive Mode comes into use when I say, " If he torite, the guilty tyrants will be ready with their dungeons and axes." In this case there is some- thing subjoined / and therefore this is called the Sub- junctive Mode. Observe, however, that in our language there is no very great use in this distinction of modes ; because, for the most part, our little signs do the busi- ness, and they never vary in the letters of which they are composed. The distinction is useful only as regards the employment of Verbs without the signs, and where the signs are left to be understood; as in the above case, "If he (should) write, the guilty tyrants will be ready." And observe, further, that when the signs are used, or under- stood, the Verb retains its original or primitive form throughout all the persons, numbers, and times. Of Verbs. 57 96. The Imperative Mode is mentioned here mei'ely for form's sake. It is that state of the Verb which com- mands, orders, bids, calls to, or invokes ; as, come hither; be good ; march away ; pay me. In other languages there are changes in the spelling of the Verbs to answer to this mode ; but in ours there ai'e none of these ; and therefore the matter is hai'dly worth notice, except as a mere mat- ter of form. 97. The Participles, however, are different in point of importance. They are of two sorts, the active and the passive. The former ends always in ing, and the latter is generally the same as the past time of the Verb out of which it grows. Thus : working is an active participle, and worked a passive participle. They are called parti- ciples because they partake of the qualities of other Parts of Speech as well as of Verbs. For instance: "I am working / working is laudable ; a working man is more worthy of honor than a titled plunderer who hves in idle- ness." In the first instance, working is a Verb, in the second a Noun, in the third an Adjective. So in the case of the passive participle: I worked yesterday' ; that is worked mortar. The first is a Verb, the last an Adjective. After the indicative, grammarians now insert another mood, called the 'potential mood, whicli indicates power, permission, pos- sibility, necessity, determination, duty. This mood Cobbett runs into the subjunctive, after the manner of the French. It is that form which necessitates one of "those powerful little Avords," as he calls them, may, might, can, must, will, shall, should, loould. This matter of mood, which is quite a difficult subject for begin- ners, became much clearer to me when I saw how the Germans termed their moods in their expressive language. They call the infinitive mood the ground-form ; the indicative %\\c reality-fonn ; the potential {\\e pos)sibility-form ; the subjunctive, Wm doubt-form ; and the imperative the commaiiding-fonn. Like the who-cuse, the whose-case, and the whom-case, these words are far more expressive than the Latin terms we use, which ought to have been left where they belonged, in Latin. You will perhaps be surprised to see will and shall, would and 3* 58 Etymology sTwuld, set down as belonging to the potential mood. You "will say they belong to the future and the conditional. So they do ; but they belong to the potential, too, as I shall show you by-and- by. Take these two examples of the difference between the future and the potential: " I shall write (future) to you, if I can. I will write (potential) to you, come what may. You will do (future) that to-morrow. You sAaZZ a.s< time, and also in order to form the passive 2Kf.rticiple. It is the same with the Verbs to inalk, to tiirti, to abcmdon, and many others. But if the Infinitive, that is to say, the primitive or original word, end in e, then d only is added in the past time and participle, and st in- stead of est after thou ; as in the case of to move, which becomes m.ov<'d and inovest. You have seen, also, in the case of the Verb to work, that we add only a» s to form the third person singular of the present of the I-»dicative; lie works. But if the Infinitive end in h, s, x, or z, then es must be added ; as, to vush, he wishes ; to toss, he tosses / fo box, he boxes/ to buzz, he buzzes. — II. When the Infini- tive ends in y, and when that y has a consonant imme- diately before it, the y is changed into ie, to form the third person singular of the j^resent of the Indicative ; as to rip)ly, he replies. But (and I beg you to mark it well) if the ending y have a vowel immediately before it, the Verb follows the general rule in the formation of the third person singular of the present of the Indicative ; as to delay, he delays; and not he delaies. It is the same in the second person singular ; as, to reply, thou, repliest, to delay, thou delay est. — IH. When the Infinitive ends in y with a consonant immediately before it, the past time of the Indicative and the passive participle are formed by using an i instead of the y ; as, to reply, he replied ; to deny, it was denied. But if the y be preceded by a vov/el, ed is added to the y in the usual manner ; as, to delay, he delayed. — IV. The active participle, which always ends in iny, is in general formed by simply adding the ing to the Infinitive ; as, to \nork, workiny / to talk, talking. But if the Infinitive end in a single e, the e is 64 Etymology dropped ; as, to move, tnomng. The Verb to he is an ex- ception to this ; but then that is an irregular Verb. It is Say silent e, and the rule will hold good throughout. The e is not silent in he, and is therefore not dropped in hdng. It is never retained, even where one part of speech is converted into another, except where the omission of it might cause a doubtful pronunciation; as, peace, peaceable; change, changeable. when the Infinitive ends in a single e, mind ; for if the e be double, the general rule is followed ; as, to free, freeing. When the infinitive ends in ie, those letters are changed into y in the forming of the active participle ; as, to lie, lying. — V. When the Infinitive ends in a single consonant, which has a single vowel immediately before it, the final consonant is doubled, not only in forming the active par- ticiple, but also in forming the past time of the Indicative, and the passive participle ; as, to rap, rapping ; I rapped, it was rapped. But, observe well, this rule holds good only as to words of o7ie syllable y for if the Infinitive of the Verb have more than one syllable, the consonant is not doubled unless the accent he on the last syllable; and the accent means the main force, weight, or sound of the voice iu pronouncing the word. For instance, in the word to open, the accent is on the Jirst syllable ; and therefore we write, opening, opened. But when we come to the Verb to refer, where we find the accent on the last syllable, we write, referring, referred. It is, perhaps, worth while noticing that these are principles that apply not only to the verbs, but to various other parts Of speech ; in fact, principles that run through the whole language. Just as, with nouns, the word ending in y preceded by a consonant changes the y into ie (lady, ladies), but does not change the y if preceded by a vowel (valley, valleys) ; so with verbs, I carry, he carries; I obey, he obeys; so with adjectives, happy, happier; gay, gayer. And as we have seen that adjectives of one syllable, ending in a consonant preceded by a single vowel double the consonant in the comparative and superlative degrees (hot, hotter, hottest), but do not do so if preceded by a double vowel or by none at all (neat, neater ; rich, richer), so it is with verbs, of similar ending, in the Of Verhs. G5 past tenso and in the participles, rap, rapped, rapping; cheat, cheated, cheating; work, worked, working. It is something that is demanded by the pronunciation of the words ; for if we did not dou])le the final consonant in words of this kind, we should have to say Ko'ter instead of hot'ter, raping instead of rapping. And this reminds me to say that it is of the utmost importance for you to study and understand the marking and accentuation of words in tlie dictionary; for if you wish to pronounce the English language correctly, you will find it necessary to consult tlie dic- tionary very frequently. The most learned Englishman or Ameri- can that lives, or has ever lived — not excepting Doctor Johnson or Noixli Webster himself— is, or has been, constantly obliged to con- sult the dictionary for the correct pronunciation of English words. How different, in this respect, is the German language! In that language there is but one single word irregularly pronounced; le-ben'-dig, instead of le'-ben-dig, like le'ben. And as to the mean- ing, every German word explains itself ; so that no German boy or man need ever look into a dictionary to find out the meaning or the pronunciation of a word in his language. Every word in that language is spelled, too, as it is pronounced. But the gram- matical construction of that language is far more difficult than ours. Mr. White confesses that, in order to learn German, the grammar of the language must be studied. I will go so far as to say, that an Englishman or American who studies the grammar of that language thoroughly well, will never need much further study of the grammar of his mother-tongue. 106. These iiTegularities, though very necessary to be attended to, do not prevent us from considering the Verbs which are subject to them as regular Verbs. The mark of a regular Verb is that its^:)^^^ ^zwie ^xl^ passive participle end in ed ; every Verb which does not answer to this mark is irregular. 107. There are many of these irregular Verbs, of which I shall here insert a complete Hst. All the iiTeg- ularities (except the little irregulai'ities just mentioned) which it is possible to find in an English Verb (the auxil- iary Verbs excepted) are in the past time and the^iassive participle only. Therefore, it will be sufficient to give a list, showing, in those two instances, what ai'e the irreg- vilarities of each Verb ; and, in order to render this list 66 Mtymology convenient, and to shorten the work of referring to it, I shall make it alphabetical. "With the past time and the passive participle of the several Verbs I shall use the first person singular of the pronoun, in order to make my examples as clear as possible. LIST OF IRKEGULAR VERBS. INFINITrSTE. PAST TIME. PARTICIPLES. to abide, I abode. I have abode. to be, I was. a been. to bear. I bore. a borne. to beat. I beat, u beaten. to become. I became. a become. to befall. it befell, it has befallen. to beget, I begot. I have 1 begotten. to begin. I began, u begun. to behold. I beheld. 11 beheld. to bend. I bended. a bent. to beseech. I besought. u besought. to bid, I bade. u bidden. to bind. I bound, u bovmd. to bite, I bit. u bitten. to bleed. I bled, li bled. to break. I broke. ii. broken. to breed. I bred, ii. bred. to bring. I brought. (C brought. to buy. I bought. ii bought. to catch. I caught. ii caught. to choose. I chose. ii chosen. to cleave. I clove. ii cloven. to come, I came. ii come. to cost, I cost. ii cost. to cut, I cut. 11 cut. to die. I died. ii died. to do. I did. ii done. to drink. I di'ank, ii drunk. Of Verbs. 67 INFINITIVE. PAST TIME. PARTICIPLES. to di-ive. I drove. I have driven. to eat. I ate, (( eaten. to fall, I fell, a fallen. to feed, I fed. a fed. to feel, I felt. a felt. to tight. I fought, li fought. to find. I found, 11 found. to flee. I fled. li fled. to fling. I flung. li flung. to fly. I flew. a flown. to forbeai'. I forbore, a forborne. to forbid. I forbade. it. forbidden. to forget. I forgot. li forgotten. to forgive. I forgave, li forgiven. to forsake, I forsook. li forsaken. to get, I got, li gotten. to give, I gave. ii given. to go. I went. 11 gone. to giind, I ground. 11 grovmd. to have, I had, li had. to heai-, I heard, 11 heard. to hide. I hid. li hidden. to hit, I hit, 11 hit. to hold. I held. li held. to hui't, I hiu't. 11 hurt. to keep, I kept, (( kept. to know. I knew, li known. to lay, I laid, 11 laid. to lead. lied. li led. to leave. I left. » left. to lend, I lent, 11 lent. to let. I let. it let. to lie. Hay, u lain. to lose, I lost, <( lost. to make, I made, « made. 68 Etymology INFINITIVE. PAST TIME. PAETIOIPLES. to meet, I met, I have met. to overcome, I overcame. ii. overcome. to overdo. I overdid. a overdone. to pay. I paid. 11 paid. to put. I put. u put. to read, I read, ii read. to rend. I rent, li rent. to ride, I rode. ii ridden. to ring. I rang, li rung. to rise, I rose, a risen. to run, I ran. u run. to say, I said. li said. to see, I saw. 11 seen. to seek, I sought, a sought. to sell. I sold, C( sold. to send, I sent. ii sent. to set. I set. 11 set. to shake. I shook. 11 shaken. to shear. I sheared. 11 shorn. to shed, I shed. li shed. to show, I showed. ii shown. to shrink. I shrank. a shrunk. to shoe. I shod. li shod. to shoot, I shot, 11 ' shot. to shut. I shut. ii shut. to sing, I sang, ii sung. to sink, I sank. a sunk. to sit. I sat, a sat. to slay. I slew. (( slain. to sleep. I slept, ii slept. to slide. I slid, " slidden. to sht, I slit, 11 slit. to smite, I smote, 11 smitten. to speak. I spoke, (C spokeik. to speed, I sped, (( sped. Of Verbs. 69 INFINITIVE. PAST TIME. PARTICIPLES. to spend, I spent. I have spent. to spin, I span, u spvm. to spit, I spat. u spat. to spread, I spread, u spread. to stand, I stood, u stood. to steal, I stole. u stolen. to stick. I stuck, il stuck. to stink. I stunk. 11 stunk. to strike, I struck. a stricken. to swear, I swore, a sworn. to take. I took. u taken. to teach, I taught. a taught. to teal'. I tore, a torn. to tell, I told, (( told. to think. I thought. (( thought. to tread, I trod. u trodden. to luiderstand. I understood. u understood. to wear. I wore, a worn. to win, I won. (( won. to wind, I wound, u wound. to write. I wrote. it written. 108. It is usual with grammai'ians to insert several Verbs in theu* I^ist of Irregulars which I have not inserted here. But I have, in the above list, placed every Verb in oiu* language which is really ii'regular. However, I vdW here subjoin a list of those Verbs which ai'e, by some gramniarians, reckoned iiTegular ; and then I will show you, not only that they are not ii'regular, strictly speaking, but that you ought by all means to use them in a regular form. 70 Etymology LIST OF VEKBS WHICH, BY SOME PERSONS, ARE ERRONEOUSLY DEEMED IRREGULARS. INFINITIVE. to awake, to bereave, to blow, to build, to bum, to burst, to cast, to chide, to cling, to creep, to crow, to curse, to dare, to deal, to dig, to dip, to draw, to dream, to dwell, to freeze, to geld, to gild, to gird, to grow, to bang, to help, to hew, to kneel, to knit, to lade, to leap, to light, PAST TIME. I awoke, I bereft, I blew, I bunt, I burnt, I bui'st, I cast, I chid, I clung, I crept, I crew, I curst, I dared, I dealt, I dug, I dipt, I drew, I dreamt, I dwelt, I froze, I gelt, I gilt, I girt, I grew, I hung, I helpt, I hewed, I knelt, I knit, I laded, I leaped, Hit, PAETIOIPLES. I have awaked. a bereft. u blown. ii built. ii burnt. u burst. ii cast. ii chidden. ii clung. ii crept. ii crowed. ii cm-st. ii dared. '; (2) yea, yea, truly, certainly ; (3) why, wlierefore^ 86 Etymology fkerefore. No, coming immediately before a noun, is, of course, an adjective ; as, No person under 25 years of age can become a mem- ber of Congress. Observe that all adverbs ending in ly are com- pared with more and most, or less and least; as, handsomely, more handsomely, most handsomely; — handsomely, less handsomely, least handsomely. Do you remember the names of these three degrees ? LETTER X. ETYMOLOGY OF PREPOSITIONS. 125. Letter III, paragraphs 29 and 30, has taught you of what description of words Prepositions are. The chief use of them is to express the different relations or connections which nouns have with each other, or in which nouns stand with regard to each other ; as, John gives money to Peter; Peter receives money frorn John. It is useless to attempt to go into curious inquiries as to the origin of Prepositions. They never change their endings; they are always written in the same manner. Their tise is the main thing to be considered ; and that will become very clear to you, when you come to the Syntax. 126. There are two abbreviations, or shortenings, of Prepositions, which I will notice here, because they are in constant use, and may excite doubts in your mind. These are a and o' / as, I am a hunting ; he is « coming ; it is one o'clock. The a thus added is at, without doubt; as, I am at hunting ; he is at coming. Generally this is a vulgar and redundant manner of speaking ; but it is in use. In mercantile accounts you will frequently see this a made use of in a very odd sort of way ; as, " Six bales marked 1 a 6." The merchant means, " Six bales marked from 1 to 6." But this I take to be a relic of the Norman French, which was once the law and mercantile language Of Prepositions. 87 of Englaiul ; for, in French, a with an accent, means t<> or at. I wonder that merchants, who are generally men of sound sense, do not discontinue the use of this mark of affectation. And, I beg you, my dear James, to bear in mind, that the only use of words is to cause our meaning to he cledrhj understood ; and that the best words are those which are famihar to the ears of the greatest num- ber of persons. The o' with the mark of elision means of, or of the, or on, or on the ; as, two o'clock, which is the same as to say two of the clock, or two according to the clock, or two on the clock. 127. As to the Prepositions which are joined to verbs or other words ; as, to outlive, to undervalue, to be over- done, it Avould be to waste our time to spend it in any statements about them; for these ai'e otJter vjords than to live, to value, to be done. If we were to go, in this way, into tiie subject of the comjyosition of words, where should we stop? Thank/V^7, thankless, ^\ith.t)ut, withi;i/ these are all compound words, l)ut, of what use to us to enter on, and sjieud our time in, inquirie.-5 of mere curio- sity? It is for monks and for Fellows of English colleges, who hve by the sweat of other people's brows, to spend theu' time in this mannei', and to call the result of theii- studies learning/ for you, who will have to earn what you eat and what you drink and what you wear, it is to avoid everything that tends not to real utility. It vaay, however, not l)e quite useless to mention tlie names given to the parts of deriv'cd words. Kind, Tin-kind, kind-ness. The original word is called tlic rout; the syllable placed before the root is called the jirefix ; and the syllable added to the root is called the suffix. Although any word having a prefix or a suffix may be called a compound word, we generally call those words compound which are formed by imiting two or more whole words; as, workshoji, schoolmaster, army-chest. And as to which com- pound words take a hyphen, and which do not, this depends a good deal upon the shape of the first and the last letter of the two words united. For instance, churchyard needs no hyphen, because 88 Etymology the two parts are sufficiently separated by the ascending Ji and the descending y ; but cliurch-bell or church-liymn must be so separated, because the parts of the word would otherwise not be sufficiently distinct. As to the correct use of prepositions generally, there is no guide equal to the feeling for propriety acquired by much reading and speaking, and by frequent hearing of good speakers. Well do I remember that, among my most advanced scholars in Germany, almost the only mistake they finally made was in the use of the prepositions, showing that this was the last difficulty to be mas- tered. It was sometimes a matter so peculiar, so delicate, so diffi- cult to choose the right preposition, that I was myself obliged to repeat a sentence aloud several times before I could hit on the right word. Do not forget that the pi'eposition governs the objective case — I send for him — nor that the same word may sometimes belong to another part of speech : I send for him, for I cannot do without him. Notice that people are said to be in any place, but that they go into a place. We are in the garden , we are going into the ■ house. In the Broadway stages there stands, over ^he fare-box, this sentence : " Put the exact fare in the box." It should be ««.fo the box ; for, though the money may be in the box, it is put into it. — Do not suppose that every preposition must be a little word ; for concerning^ respecting^ regarding, notwithstanding are also prepo- sitrons. Observe, too, that nine plirases out of ten begin with a preposition. In regard to the expressions, a-hunting, a-coming, and the like, Cobbett does not mean that these are vulgar and redundant, — which is what, at first, I thought he meant, — but that at hunting, at coming, are so. The other expression is perfectly legitimate, and used by the best authors. You may say, therefore, that some- thing or anything is a-doing, a-making, a-building, a-ripening, a-brewing, and so on. Of Co7^ju7ictions. 89 LETTER XI. ETYMOLOGY OF CONJUNCTIONS. 128. In Letter HI, pai'agraph 31, you have had a de- scription of this sort of words, and also some account of the uses of them. Some of them ai'e called copulative Conjunctions, and others disjunctive. They all serve to join together words, or parts of sentences ; but the for- mer express an icnion in the actions, or states of being, expressed by the verb ; as, you and I talk. The latter a disunion; as, you talk, hut I act. The words of this Part of Speech never vary in their endings. They are always spelled in one and the same way. In themselves they present no difficulty ; but, as you will see by-and-by, to use them properly, with other words, in the forming of sentences, demands a due portion of your attention and care. You see Cobbett says "an union." Can yoii tell why this is wrong ? If not, look at Letter IV, paragraph 36 (note). LETTER XII. cautionary remakks. My dear James : 129. Before we enter on Syntax, let me give you a caution or two with regard to the contents of the forego- ing Letters. 130. There are some words which, under different cir- cumstances belong to more than one Pai't of Speech, as, • indeed, you have seen in the J-*a7'ticiples. But this is by no means confined to that pai'ticular description of words. 90 Cautionary JRemarJcs. I act. Here act is a verb ; but "the act performed by me" shows the very same word in the capacity of a noiin. The message was sent hy him ; he stood by at the time. In the first of these examples hy is a preposition ; in the last an adverb. Mind, therefore, that it is the sense in which the loord is used, and not the letters of which it is com- posed, that determines what is the Part of Speech to which it belongs. 131. Never attempt to get by rote any part of yoiu* in- structions. Whoever falls into that practice soon begins to esteem the powers of memory more than those of rea- son ; and the former are despicable indeed when com- pared with the latter. "When the fond parents of an eighth wonder of the world call him forth into the middle of the parlor to repeat to their visitors some speech of a play, how angry would they be if any one were to tell them that their son's endowments equalled those of a parrot or a bullfinch ! Yet a German bird-teacher would make either of these more perfect in this species of oratory. It is this mode of teaching, which is practised in the great schools, that assists very much in making dunces of lords and country squires. They '•'' get their lessons ,•" that is to say, they repeat the toords of it ; but, as to its sense and meaning, they seldom have any under- , standing. This operation is sometimes, for what reason I know not, called gettiag a thing by heart. It must, I should think, mean by hearH ; that is to say, by hear it. That a person may get and retain and repeat a lesson in this way, without any effort of the mind, is very clear from the fact, of which we have daily proof, that people sing the words and the tune of a song with perfect cor- rectness, at the very time that they are most seriously thinking and debating in their minds about matters of * great importance to them. 132. I have cautioned you before against studying the foregoing instructions piecemeal; that is to say, a little Cautionary Memarks. 91 hit at a time. Read a letter all through at once ; and, now that you have come to the end of my instructions on Etymology, read all the Letters thi'ough at once : do this repeatedly; taking care to proceed slowly and carefully; and, at the end of a few days, all the matters treated of will form a connected whole in yovu* mind. 133. Before you pi'oceed to the Syntax, try yourself a little, thus : Copy a short sentence from any book. Then wi'ite down the words, one by one, and write against each what Part of Speech you think it belongs to. Then look for each word in the dictionaiy, where you will find the several Pai'ts of Speech denoted by little letters after the word : s. is for substantive, or noun ; pro. for pronoun ; a. for ai'ticle ; v. a. for verb active ; v. n. for verb neuter ; adj. for adjective; adv. for adverb; /> re. for preposition; con. for conjimction; i7it. for interjection. It will give you great pleasiu'e and encoui'agement when you find that you are right. If you be sometimes wrong, this will only urge you to renewed exertion. You will be proud to see that, without any one at your elbow, you have really acquired something which you can never lose. You Avill begin, and with reason, to think yourself learned; your sight, though the objects will still appear a good deal confused, will dart into every part of the science ; and you will pant to complete what you will be convinced you have successfully begun. This is Mr. White's mucli-ridiculcd and thoroughly-despised parsing exercise. Of com-se, carried on as it is at the public- schools, with little or no real understanding of the matter, and with a kind of rapid, mechanical, parrot-like repetition of gram- matical terms, it is worse than useless. But I am convinced that, properly considered, and understandingly carried out, this exercise is of positive value. To a boy or girl of proper age, it may be made indeed, tolerably interesting. Let us look at a single little sentence. " Boys love swimming." Bayn is a common noun, third person, plunU number, masculine gender, nominative case. , — 92 Syntax Generally Considered. Love is a regular transitive verb, active voice, third person, plural number, present tense, indicative mood. Swimming is a common (or participial) noun, third person, sin- gular number, objective case. Now, take each one of these definitions, and ask why? and if you can answer properly, then the exercise has become of real and substantial benefit to you. Why a common noun ? Because it is a general name, and not a pwrticular one. Why third iperson? Be- cause it is spoken of. Why ^Z^mZ number? Because it means more than one. Why masculine gender? Because it is the name of males. Why nominative case? Because it is the subject of the sentence; and so on. If I had said, " Boys love to swim," the ob- ject, to swim, would be called a verbal noun. LETTER XIII. SYNTAX GENERALLY CONSIDERED. My DEAR James: 134. In Letter II, paragraph 9, I shortly explained to you the meaning of the word Syntax, as that word is used in the teaching of grammar. Read that paragraph again. 135. We are, then, now entering upon this branch of your study; and it is my object to teach you how to give all the words you make use of their proper situation when you come to put them into sentences. Because, though every word that you make use of may be correctly spelled ; that is to say, may have all the letters in it that it ought to have, and no more than it ought to have ; and though all the words may, at the same time, be the fit words to use in order to express what you wish to express ; yet, for want of a due observance of the principles and rules of Syntax, your sentences may be incorrect, and, in some cases, they may not express what you wish them to express. 136. I shall, however, carry my instructions a little Syntax. 93 fui'ther than the construction of independent sentences. I shall make some remai-ks upon the manner of putting sentences together; and on the things necessary to be understood, in order to enable a person to wi'ite a series of sentences. These remai-ks will show you the use of figui-ative language, and will, I hope, teach you how to avoid the very common error of making youi' writing con- fused and unintelli»ible. LETTEK XIV. SYNTAX. The Points and Marks made use of in Writing. My dear James: 137. There are, as I informed you in paragragh 9, Let- ter II, Points made use of in the making, or writing, of sentences ; and, therefore, Ave must first notice these ; because, as you will soon see, the sense, or meaning, of the words is very much dependent upon the points which are used along with the words. For instance: " You will be rich if you be industrious, in a few years' Then again: ^'^You vnll be rich, if you he industrious in a few years^ Here, though in both sentences the words and also the order of the words ai-e precisely the same, the meaning of one of the sentences is very different from that of the other. The first sentence means that you Avill, in a few years'' time, be rich, if you be industrious now. The second sentence means that you will be rich, some time or other, if you be industrious in a feio years from this tim,e. And all this gi*eat difference in meaning is, as you must see, produced solely by the difference in the situation of the comma. Put another comma after the last word industrious, and the meaning becomes dubious. 94 Syntax. A memorable proof of the great importance of attending to Points was given to the EngHsh nation in the year 1817. A committee of the House of Lords made a report to the House, respecting certain poHtical clubs. A secre- tary of one of those clubs presented a petition to the House, in which he declared positively, and offered to prove at the bar, that a part of the report was totally false. At first their Lordships blustered; their high blood seemed to boil; but, at last, the Chairman of the Committee apologized for the report by saying that thera ought to have been a full-point where there was only a comma! and that it was this which made that false which would otherwise have been, and which was intended to be, true! 138. These Points being, then, things of so much con- sequence in the forming of sentences, it is necessary that I explain to you the use of them, before I proceed any farther. There are four of them: the Full-point, or Period; the Colon; the Semi-colon ; the Comma. 139. The Full-point is a single dot, thus [.], and it is used at the end of every complete sentence. That is to say, at the end of every collection of words which make a full and complete meaning, and is not necessarily con- nected with other collections of words. But a sentence may consist of several members or divisions, and then it is called a compound sentence. When it has no divisions, it is called a simple sentence. Thus : " The people suffer great misery." This is a simple sentence; but, "The people suffer great misery, and daily perish for want," is a compound sentence; that is to say, it is compounded, or made up, of two simple sentences. 140. The Colon, which is written thus [:], is next to the full-point in requiring a complete sense in the words. It is, indeed, often used when the sense is complete, but when there is something still behind, which tends to make the sense fuller or clearer. f Syntax. 95 141. The Semi-colo7i is wi-itten thus [;], and it is used to set off, or divide, simple sentences, in cases when the comma is not quite enough to keep the meaning of the simple sentences sufficiently distinct. 142. The Comma is Avritten thus [,], and is used to mai'k the shortest pauses in reading, and the smallest divisions in writing. It has, by some grammaiians, been given as a rule to use a comma to set off every pai't of a compound sentence, which part has in it a verb not in the infinitive mode ; and, certainly, this is, in general, proper. But it is not always jji'oper; and, besides, commas are used, in numerous cases, to set off' parts which have no verbs in them ; and even to set off single words which are not verbs ; and of this the very sentence which I am now Avriting gives you ample proof. The comma marks the shortest pause that we make m speaking ; and it is evi- dent that, in many cases, its use must depend upon taste. It is sometimes used to give e/n^^hasis, or loeight, to the word after which it is put. Observe, now, the following two sentences: "I was very well and cheerful last week: but^ am rather feeble and low-spuited now." "I am very willing to ;yield to your kind requests; but, 1 will set yom* hai'sh commands at defiance." Commas are made use of when phrases, that is to say, portions of words, ai'e thi'owed into a sentence, and which ai'e not absolutely necessai'y to assist in its grammatical construction. For instance: "There wereii/i s sell? //ops are dear ; but iAe hops look promising." In this respect there is a passage in Ml". Tull which is faulty. " Neither could weeds be of any prejudice to corn.'''' It should be ^Hhe corn ;" for he does not mean corn universally, but the standing corn, and the com amongst which weeds grow; and, therefore, the definite Article is required. 160. "Ten shillings the bushel," and like phrases, ai'e perfectly correct. They mean, "ten shillings by the bushel, or for the bushel." Instead of this mode of ex- pression we sometimes use, "ten shillings a bushel:" that is to say, ten shilhngs/br a bushel, or a bushel at a time. Either of these modes of expression is far prefer- able to per bushel ; for the i)er is not English, and is, to the greater part of the people, a mystical sort of word. 101. The indefinite Article a, or an., is used with the words day, month, year, and others; as, once a day; twice a month ; a thousand pounds a year. It means in a day, in a month, in or for a year ; and though per annum means the same as this last, the English j)hrase is, in all respects, the best. The same may be said of j^^er cent., that '\'& per centurn, or, in plain English, ybr the hun- dred, or a hundred: by ten per centum we mean ten for the hmidred, or ten for a hundred ; and why can we not, then, say, in plain English, what we mean? 162. "When there are several nouns following the indef- inite Ai*ticle, care ought to be taken that it accord with them. ".'1 dog, cat, owl, and sparrow." Owl requii'es an ; and, therefore, the Ai'ticle must be repeated in this phrase ; as, a dog, a cat, an owl, and a sparrow. 163. Nouns, signifying fixed and settled collections of individuals, as thousand, hundred, dozen, score, take the 108 Syntax, indefinite Article, though they are of plural meaning. It is a certain mass, or number, or multitude, called a score ; and so on ; and the Article agrees with these understood words, which are in the singular number. In a recent announcement of a new novel by Robert Buchanan, the publishers quote this one line concerning it from the London Spectator: "The work of a genius and a poet," — which is in it- self a sufficient comment on the discriminating taste of the pub- lisher and the culture of the critic. Bat I suppose a man may be a good publisher or a good critic, and yet not know how to write or to select good English. You must say either "the first and the second class," or "the first and second classes;" not "the first and second class," which would mean one class that is both first and second. Take one or two similar examples : "I have read the first and the second chapter, or the first and second chapters ; strike out the first and the second line, or the first and second lines." You may say, "the north and south line," because this is one line that runs north and south ; but you cannot say "the north and west line." It will not do to say "the two first classes," because there cannot be any such thing as two first classes; but "the first two classes," which means simply the two classes that come first in order. So with other similar ex- pressions; as, the first two pages, the first two days, &c. You must say, "He is a better speaker than writer," not "than a writer." "He is a statesman and historian," not "a statesman and an historian." " Wanted — A clerk and copyist." How often such an expression is used to mean two persons,.whereas it really means one ! "There lives in this town a philosopher and a poet." The predicate shows that one person is meant, while the subject indicates two. Mr. White quotes the following announcement from a street-ear : ' ' Passengers are requested not to hold conversa- tion with either conductor or driver;" and then says : "Now this implies that there are two conductors and two drivers, and that the passengers are asked not to talk, or, in elegant phrase, ' hold conversation,' with either of them. The simple introduction of the rectifies the phrase : ' not to hold conversation with either the con- ductor or the driver.' " I saw the other day in Pearl Street, New York, a place with this sign: "Hatters, Tailors, and Factory Stqves." This really means that the owner of the place has hatters and tailors to sell, as well as factory stoves. It might pass with the sign of the pos- As Ilelatmerused, or hQ^'mg finished to peruse, the treatise of Aris- totle. Towai'ds the close of the last sentence the adverb " at least " is put in a wrong place. The Doctor means, doubtless, that the adverb should apply to considerable, and not to spoken; but, from its being improperly placed, it applies to the latter, and not to the former. He means to say that Demosthenes had spoken the most consider- able, at least, of his orations ; but as the words now stand, they mean that he had done the speaking part to them, if he had done nothing more. There is an error in the use of the word " insight,''^ followed, as it is, by " into.'''' We may have a look, or sight, into a house, but not an insight. This would be to take an inside vieio of an inside. 173. We have here a pretty good proof that a knowl- edge of the Greek and Latin is not sufficient to prevent men from writing bad EngHsh. Here is a ^jro/c»i,o would have been much better, though there was a who just before in the sentence. In the same author: "Douglas, who had prepared his people, and that was bent upon taking his part openly." This never ought to be, though we see it continually. Either may do ; but both never ought to be relatives of the same antecedent, in the same sentence. And, indeed, it is very awkward, to say the least of it, to use both in the same sentence, though relating to different antecedents, if all these be names of rational beings. " The Lords, who made the first false report, and the Commons, that seemed to vie with their Lordships in falsehood, be- came equally detested." That, as a relative, cannot take the preposition or verb immediately before it. I may say " The man to whom I gave a book ; " but I cannot say, " the 132 Syntax, man to that I gave a book ; " nor "the knife to that I put a handle." "Having defeated vihotn, he remained quiet;" but we cannot, in speaking of persons, say, "Having de- feated that, he remained quiet." 203. Which, as a relative Pronoun, is applied to irra- tional beings only, and, as to those beings, ii may be em- ployed indifferently with that, except in the cases where the relative comes directly after a verb or a preposition, in the manner just spoken of. We say, "the town, the horse, the tree, lohich/ or to which f and so on. And we say, "the town, the tree, the horse, that;'''' but not to OT for that. 204. We may, in speaking of nouns of multitude, when the multitude consists of rational creatures, and when we choose to consider it as a singular noun, make use of toho or whom, or of which, just as we please. We may say, "the crowd which was going up the street;" or "the crowd ^oho was going up the street ;" but we cannot make use of both in the same sentence and relating to the same noun. Therefore, we cannot say, " the crowd loho was going up the street and which was making a great noise." We must take the who, or the which, in both places. If such noun of multitude ba used in the plural number, we then go on with the idea of the rationality of the individuals in our minds ; and therefore we make use of ^oho and whom. " The assembly, loho rejected the petition, but to whom, another was immedi- ately presented." 205. Who, whose, v^hom, and which, are employed in asking questions ; to which, in this capacity, we must add what. "Who is in the house? Whose gun is that? W7iom do you love best? What has happened to-day?" What means, generally, as a relative, " the thing which/" as, " Give me what I want." It may be used in the nom- inative and in the objective case: "What happens to-day may happen next week ; but I know not to lohat we shall As JRelating to Pronouns. 133 come at last ;" or, " The thing lohich happens to-day may happen next week ; but I know not the thing ichich we shall come to at last." This little word what may, sometimes, curiously enough, be both subject and object in the same sentence. " Give what is proper. Tell me what was done." In the first sentence, what is the object oigive and the subject of is proper ; and may be set down as equal to that which. In the second sentence, what is the object of tell and the subject of was done; me being the indirect object, or adverbial phrase, meaning to me. You may also say that the whole clause wJiat loas done is the object of tell, and call it an objective clause. Notice that the relative pronoun is sometimes omitted, but only in the objective case ; as, You are the boy (whom) I mean; this is the book (that) I want. This omission of words, which gram- marians call an ellipsis, is very common in our tongue ; as, Dinner done, we walked into the garden ; that argument granted, I pro- ceed to the next. The place of the relative pronoun is a mighty important matter. Somebody sent Mr. White this striking instance of such misplace- ment : ' ' Just now, I saw a man talking to the Rev. Mr. Blank, who was so drunk that he could hardly stand." The last two clauses were intended, of course, to come after man, who was drunk, and not the reverend gentleman. Here are some more examples from Greene's Grammar : ' ' Mr. Brown needs a physician who is sick. The oranges came in a basket which we ate. Found, a gold watch by a gentleman with steel hands. A man brought home my Newfoundland dog in his shirt-sleeves." These last two sentences have no relative pronoun, but they are good examples of misplacement of words. " I told you to do that this morning " is a very different thing from "I told you, this morning, to do that.'' Here is an advertisement which I have just noticed in the Tribune : ' ' Conditioned scholars coached for fall examinations during the summer months at Tarrytown." These words, as they stand, mean that the scholars are to be coached (that is, prepared) for fall examinations, taking place during the summer months at Tarrytown ; but the advertiser did not mean anything of the kind. He meant to say, ' ' Conditioned scholars coached, during the sum- mer mouths, at Tarrytown, for fall examinations." You will say that the fall examinations could not be during the summer months. No ; but the words say so. 134 Syntax, 206. Which, though in other cases it cannot be em- ployed as a relative with nouns which are the names of rational beings, is, with such nouns, employed in asking questions ; as, " The tyrants allege that the petition was disrespectful, ^^^^■c^ of the tyrants ?" Again: "One of the petitioners had his head cleaved by the yeomam-y. Which T'' That is to say, "Which of the petitioners was itf 207. What, when used in asking for a repetition of what has been said — as, what? — means, "Tell me that lohich, or the thing tchich, you have said." This word is used, and with great force, in the way of exclamation: " What ! rob us of our right of suffrage, and then, when we pray to have our right restored to us, shut us up in dungeons!" The full meaning is this: " What do they do? They rob us of our right." 208. It is not, in general, advisable to crowd these rela- tives together ; but it sometimes happens that it is done. " Who, that has any sense, can believe such palpable false- hoods *? What, that can be invented, can disguise these falsehoods ? By whom, that you ever heard of, was a par- don obtained from the mercy of a tyrant ? Some men's rights have been taken from them by force and by genius, but whose, that the world ever heard of before, were taken away by ignorance and stupidity?" 209. Whosoever, whosesoever, tohomsoever, whatsoever, whichsoever, follow the rules applicable to the original words. The so is an adverb, which, in its general accep- tation, means in like manner ; and ever, which is also an adverb, means, at any time, at all times, or always. These two words, thus joined in whosoever, mean, who in any case that may be / and so of the other three words. W^e sometimes omit the so, and say, vihoever, whoinever, what- ever, and even whosever. It is a mere abbreviation. The so is understood ; and it is best not to omit to write it. Sometimes the soever is separated from the Pronoun: As Helating to Pronouns. 135 " "What man soever he might be." But the main thing is to nnderstand the reason nipon which the use of these words stands ; for, if you understand that, you will always use the words properly. 210. The Demonstrative Pronouns have been described in Letter VI, paragraph 67 ; and I have very little to add to what is there said upon the subject. They never change then- endings to denote gender or case ; and the proper appHcation of them is so obvious that it requires little to be said about it. However, we shall hear more of these Pronouns when we come to the Syntax of Verbs. One observation I will make here, however, because it will serve to caution you against the commission of a very common error. You will hardly say, '■'•Them that write;" but you may say, as many do, " "We ought always to have great regard for them who are wise and good." It ought to be, "/br those who are wise and good;" because the word persons is understood : " those persons who are wise and good ;" and it is bad grammar to say, " them per- sons who are wise and good." But observe, in another sense, this sentence would be correct. If I be speaking of particular persons, and if my object be to make you understand that they are wise and good, and also that I love them • then I say, very correctly, "I love them, who are wise and good." Thus : " The father has two children ; he loves them, who are wise and good ; and they love him, who is very indulgent." It is the meaning that must be your guide, and reason must tell you what is the meaning. "They, -who can write, save a great deal of bodily labor," is very different from '■^ Those who can write save a great deal of bodily labor." The those stands for those persons ; that is to say, any persons, persons in general, who can write: whereas, the they, as here used, relates to some particular persons; and the sentence means that these particular persons are able to write, and, by that means, they savo a great deal of bodily labor. Doctor Blair, in 136 Syntax, his 21st Lecture, has fallen into an error of this sort: thus, "These two paragraphs are extremely worthy of Mk. Addison, and exhibit a style, which they, who can successfully imitate, may esteem themselves happy." It ought to be those instead of they. But this is not the only fault in this sentence. "Why say " extremely worthy?'** Worthiness is a quality which hardly admits of degrees, and surely it does not admit of extremes ! Then, again, at the close : to esteem, is to prize, to set value on, to value highly. How, then, can men *' esteem themselves happy?" How can thej prize themselves happy? How can they highly value themselves happy ? My dear James, let chambermaids, and members of the House of Commons, and learned Doctors, write thus: be you content with plain words which convey your meaning ; say that a thing is quite worthy of a man ; and that men may deem them- selves happy. — It is truly curious that Lindley Murkay should, even in the motto in the title-page of his JEnglish Gramm,ar, have selected a sentence containing a gram- matical error ; still more curious that he should have found this sentence in Doctor Blair's Lectures on Lan- guage ; and most curious of all that this sentence should be intended to inculcate the great utility of correctness in the composing of sentences. Here, however, are the proofs of this combination of curious circumstances: '"'■They who are learning to compose, and arrange their sentences with accuracy and order, are learning, at the same time, to think with acciiracy and order." Poh! Never thiuk a man either learned or good merely on account of his being called a Doctor. 211. The Indeterminate Pronouns have been enumerated in Letter VI, parapraph 71. They are sometimes Adjec- tives, as is stated in that paragraph. Whoever, whatever, and whichever (that is, whosoever, whatsoever, whichso- ever), though relatives, are indeterminate too. But, in- deed, it signifies little how these words are classed. It As Helatlng to Pronouns. 137 is the use of them that we ought to look to. Every, which I have now reckoned amongst these Pronouns, is never, now-a-days, used loithout a noun, and is therefore, in fact, an -adjective. The error that is most frequently committed in using these Pronouns is the putting of the plural verb or ^:>ZwraZ Pronoun after nouns preceded by every, each, or either; especially in the case of every : as, •' every man ; every body ; every house." These are under- stood to mean, all the men, all the people, all the houses; but, only one man, one body, one house, is spoken of, and therefore the verb ought to be in the singular ; as, " every- body is disgusted ; " and not " every body are disgusted." 212. Before you use any of these words, you should think well on their true meaning; for, if you do this, you will seldom commit errors in the use of them. Doctor Johnson, in his Rambler, No. 177, has this passage: '■'■Every one of these virtuosos looked on all his associates as wretches of depraved taste and narrow notions. Their conversation was, therefore, fretful and waspish, their be- havior brutal, their merriment bluntly sarcastic, and their seriousness gloomy and suspicious." Now these theirs certainly relate to every one, though the author meant, without doubt, that they should relate to the whole hody o/ virtuosos, including the every one. The word there- fore adds to the confusion. The virtuosos were, there- fore, fretful and waspish. What for ? Was it because every one saw his associates in a bad light ? How can my thinking meanly of others make their conversation fretful ? If the Doctor had said, " These virtuosos looked on each other'''' . . . the meaning would have been cleai". 213. The Pronoun either, which means one of two, is very often improperly employed. It is sometimes used to denote one of three or more, which is always incorrect. We say, "■either the dog, or the ca^y" but not ^^ either the dog, the cat, or the pig.'' Suppose some one to ask me which I choose to have, mutton, veal, or woodcock; I 138 Syntax, answer any one of them ; and not either of them. Doctor Blair laas used any one where he ought to have used either: "The two words are not altogether synonymous; yet, in the present case, any one of them would have been sufficient." 214. In concluding this Letter on the Syntax of Pro- nouns, I must observe that I leave many of these inde- terminate Pronouns unnoticed in a particular manner. To notice every one individually could answer no purpose except that of swelling the size of a book ; a thing which I most anxiously wish to avoid. Sometimes one cannot help using either ... or with reference to one of three things. Expressions lilce the following will be found in the works of the hest authors : Either the Romans, the Greeks, or the Persians. Neither the planters, the poor whites, nor the blacks. Nearly all the grammars set down the rule that one must use each other with reference to two persons, and one anotlier with refer- ence to more than two. I have not, however, found a single author, good or bad, that adheres to this rule. When you are speaking of three persons, it is perhaps better to say, "They love one another," than "They love each other;" but sometimes these words have to be repeated so frequently that it would be very disagreeable to use always the same word. In Punch's Address to Brother Jonathan, these words occur almost interchangeably: "Let us quarrel, Ameri- can kinsmen. Let us plunge into war. We have been friends too long. We have too highly promoted each other's wealth and pros- perity. We are too plethoric ; we want depletion ; to which end let us cut one another's throats. Let us sink each other's shipping, burn ea/-jh other's arsenals, destroy each other's property at large. Let our banks break while we smite and slay one another. Let us maim and mutilate one another ; let us make of each other miserable objects," etc.— Notice that eacA has a restricting sense, ande«eryan extended or general one. "He examined each one; he examined every one." The first means cocIl single one; the second means them all, in a general sense. ' ' Here are ten lazy boys ; give each one a caning. Give a caning to every lazy boy in the school." That error of making verbs and pronouns agree with each and every, as if these words were plural, is as common to-day as it was in Cobbett's time. How often we hear such expressions as, As Relating to Adjectives. 139 "Everybody have their faults — Every one are dissatisfied — Let each boy and girl take up their pens," etc. These are all wrong. Even if the noun with each or every be repeated, the verb or pro- noun must be in the singular; as, "Each day and each hour has its duties ; every man and woman has his or her peculiarities ; every window and every house-top was crowded with spectators." Be- cause, in these instances, the predicate or verb is understood after the first noun : Every window was crowded and every house-top was crowded. LETTER XVIII. SYNTAX, AS BELATING TO ADJECTIVES. 215. By this time, my dear James, you will hardly want to be reminded of the nature of Adjectives. However, it may not be amiss for you to read again attentively the whole of Letter VII. 216. Adjectives, having no relative effect, containing no representative quality, have not the dangerous power, possessed by pronouns, of throwing whole sentences into confusion, and of perverting or totally destroying the writer's meaning. For this reason, there is httle to be said respecting the using of Adjectives. 217. When you make use of an Adjective in the way of comparison, take care that there be a congruity, or fitness, in the things or qualities compared. Do not say that a thing is deeper than it is hroad or long; or that a man is taller than he is wise or rich. Hume says, " The principles of the Reformation were deeper in the prince's mind than to be easily eradicated.'''' This is no comparison at all. It is nonsense. 218. When Adjectives are used as nouns, they must, in all respects, be treated as nouns. " The guilty, the inno- cent, the rich, the poor, are mixed together." But we cannot say " a guilty," meaning to use the word guilty as a noun. 140 Syntax, 219. If wo or more Adjectives be used as applicable to the same noun, there must be a comma, or commas, to separate them ; as, " a poor, unfortunate man ;" unless and or or be made use of, for then the comma or commas may be omitted ; as, " a lofty and large and excellent house." 220. Be rather sparing than liberal in the use of Adjec- tives. One which expresses your meaning is better than two, which can, at best, do no more than express it, while the additional one may possibly do harm. But the error most common in the use of Adjectives is the endeavoring to strengthen the Adjective by putting an adverb before it, and which adverb conveys the notion that the quality or property expressed by the Adjective admits of degrees ; as, " very honest, extretnely just." A man may be wiser than another wise man ; an act may be more wicked than another wicked act; but a man cannot be more honest than another ; every man who is not honest must be dis- honest ; and every act which is not just must be unjust. " Very right," and " very wrong," are very common ex- pressions, but they are both incorrect. Some expressions may be more com,mon than others ; but that which is not right is wrong; or that which is not wrong is right. There are here no intermediate degrees. We should laugh to hear a man say, " You are a little right, I am a good deal wrong; that person is honest in a trijiing degree; that act was too just." But our ears are accustomed to the adverbs of exaggeration. Some wi'iters deal in these to a degree that tires the ear and offends the understand- ing. "With them, everything is excessively or immensely or extremely or vastly or surprisingly or wonderfully or abundantly, or the like. The notion of such writers is that these words give strength to what they are saying. This is a great error. Strength must be found in the thought, or it will never be found in the words. Big- sounding words, without thoughts corresponding, are effort without effect. As Relating to Adjectives. 141 221. Care must be taken, too, not to use such adjectives as are improper to be applied to the nouns along with which they are used. " Good virtues ; had vices ; painfid tooth-aches ; pleasing pleasures." These are staringly absurd; but, amongst a select society of empty heads, " moderate Reform " has long been a fashionable expres- sion; an expression which has been well criticised by asking the gentlemen who use it how they would like to obtain moderate justice in a court of law, or to meet with m^oderate chastity in a wife. 222. To secure yourself against the risk of committing such errors, you have only to take care to ascertain the full meaning of every word you employ. To show you how easy our English is, in this part of its gram- mar, as compared with other languages, I shall ask you to look at this one little sentence: "The good boy loves a good book and a good friend; to good bread and butter he gives not a thought." Here the adjective ^oodt occurs four times without ever once chang- ing its form ; now you will see that this little word, in this one little sentence, changes five different times in German : Der gute Knabe liebt ein gutes Buch und einen guten Freund ; gutem Brod und guter Butter gibt er keinen Gedanken. "What do you think of that, my lad ? Would you not think that the poor German, when he speaks, would be constantly thinking of his genders, numbers, and cases ? "Would you not think he would be apt to get things mixed? But he doesn't; he speaks his language in correct form, as naturally as a canary-bird sings in correct tune ; for he has learned to speak as the canary has learned to sing. This is why some writers, like Mr. Grant "White, say that the English language has no grammar; that is, because its words have few or no declensions, or changes to indicate person, number, gen- der, case, mood, and tense. It has, however, a grammar of its own ; and the proof of it is this : Notwithstanding the fact that it has so few declensions, as compared with German, it is just as hard, if not harder, for an adult German to learn to speak and write our English in a perfectly correct and idiomatic manner, as it is for an adult American or Briton to learn to speak and write German in a similar manner. Of the two or three millions of native Germans who are now in the United States, how many of 142 Syntax, them, do you think, are able to speak our English in such a man- ner as to have their words taken down on the spot, and printed just as spoken? I do not think there are half a dozen; IJcnow of but one ; and that is Mr. Carl Sohuez. When I say native Ger- mans, I mean, of course, those who, like him, have come to this country and learned the language after attaining manhood. Those who come here in infancy, or in childhood, become, in fact, Ameri- cans. Of the others, not one in ten thousand ever learns to speak like a native. As an offset to Mr. Schurz, we have at least one Anaerican who may be said to have spoken and written German as perfectly as Mr. Schurz speaks and writes English ; and that is our lamented Bataed Tatlok. It is very easy to learn enough English to talk about one's daily wants ; to ask for meat and drink ; to count money ; to buy and sell ; and to inquire one's way ; it is far easier for a German to learn this much in English than for an American to learn as much in German ; but it is, I think, as hard for the German to master the English as it is for the Englishman to master the German. The Ger- man language, in utterance and in construction, is, like the people who speak it, almost as regular, formal, and law-conforming as mathematics ; while our English, in utterance and in construction, is, like the typical Englishman, though grounded in law and prin- ciple, essentially a mass of peculiarities, irregularities, and eccen- tricities. LETTEE XIX. SYNTAX, AS BELATING TO VERBS. 223. Let us, my dear James, get well through ihis Let- ter ; and then we may, I think, safely say that we know something of grammar: a little more, I hope, than is known by the greater part of those who call themselves Latin and Greek scholars, and who dignify their having studied these languages with the name of ^'■Liberal JSdu- cationy 224. There can be no sentence, there can be no sense in words, unless there be a Verb either expressed or un- derstood. Each of the other Parts of Speech may alter- As Melating to Verbs. 143 nately be dispensed with ; but the Verb never can. The Verb being, then, of so much importance, you will do well to read again, before you proceed further, paragraphs 23, 24, 25, and 26, in Letter HI, and the whole of Letter vni. 225. Well, then, we have now to see how Verbs are used in sentences, and how a misuse of them affects the meaning of the writer. There must, you will bear in mind, always be a Verb expressed or understood. One would think that this was not the case in the direction written on a post letter. "To John Goldsmith, Esq., Hambledon, Hampshke." But what do these words really mean? Why, they mean, "This letter is to he delivered to John Goldsmith, who is an Esquire, who lives at Hambledon, which is in Hampshu-e." Thus, there are no less than five Verbs where we thought there was no Verb at all. " Sir, I beg you to give me a bit of bread." The sentence which follows the Sir is complete ; but the Sir appears to stand wholly without connection. How- ever, the full meaning is this : "I beg you, who are a Sir, to give me a bit of bread." "What, John?" That is to say, " What is said by you, whose name is John?" Again, in the date of a letter ; " Long Island, March 25, 1818." That is : "Z am now writing in Long Island ; this is the twenty-fifth day of March, and this month is in the one thousand eight hundred and eighteenth year of the Chris- tian era." 226. Now, if you take time to reflect a little on this matter, you will never be puzzled for a moment by those detached words, to suit which grammarians have invented vocative cases and cases absolute, and a great many other appellations, with which they, puzzle themselves, and confuse and bewilder and torment those who read their books. (See paragraph 191.) 227. We almost always, whether in speaking or in writ- ing, leave out some of the words which are necessary to a 144 Syntax, full expression of our meaning. This leaving out is called the -Ellipsis. JEllipsis is, in geometry, an oval figure ; and the compasses, in the tracing of the line of this figure, do not take their full sweep all round, as in the tracing of a circle, but they make skips and leave out parts of the area, or surface, which parts would be included in the circle. Hence it is, that the skipping over, or leaving out, in speaking or in writing, is called het Ellipsis ; without making use of which, we, as you will presently see, scarcely ever open our lips or move our pens. " He told me that he had given John the gun which the gunsmith brought the other night." That is: "He told to me that he had given to John the gun, which the gunsmith brought to this place, or hiiiher, on the other night." This would, you see, be very cumbrous and disagreeable ; and, there- fore, seeing that the meaning is quite clear without the words marked by italics, we leave these words out. But y we may easily go too far in this elliptical way, and say: "He told me he had given John the gun the gunsmith brought the other night." This is leaving the sentence too bare, and making it to be, if not nonsense, hardly sense. 228. Reserving some further remarks, to be made by- and-by, on the Ellipsis, I have now to desire that, always, when you are examining a sentence, you will take into your view the words that are left out. If you have any doubt as to the correctness of the sentence, fill it up by putting in the left-out words, and, if there be an error you will soon discover it. 229. Keeping in mind these remarks on the subject of understood words, you will now listen attentively to me, while I endeavor to explain to you the manner in which Verbs ought to be used in sentences. 230. The first thing is to come at a clear understanding with regard to the cases of nouns and pronouns as con- nected, in use, with Verbs and pi'epositions / for on this As Helating to Verbs. 145 connection depends a great deal. Verbs govern, as it is called, nouns and pronouns; that is to say, they some- times cause, or make, nouns or pronouns to be in a cer- tain case. Nouns do not vary their endings to denote different cases ; but pronouns do ; as you have seen in Letter VI. Therefore, to illustrate this matter, I will take the pronoun personal of the third person singular, which in the nominative case is he, possessive case his, objective case him. 231. When a man (it is the same with regard to any other person or thing) is the actor, or doer, the man is in the nominative case, and the corresponding pronoun is he ; "^e strikes." The same case exists when the man is the receiver or endurer, of an action. "iZe is stricken." It is still the same case when the man is said to he in any state or condition. ^^He is unhappy." Indeed, there is no difference in these two latter instances; for "Ae is stricken" is no other than to say that "he is in a state or condition called stricken.'''' Observe, too, that in these two latter instances, the he is followed by the Verb to be : he is stricken, he is unhappy; and observe, moreover, that whenever the Verb to be is used, the receiver, or be-er (if I may make a word) is, and must be, in the nominative case. But now let me stop a little to guard you against a puzzle. I say, "the Verb to 6ey" but I do not mean those ttco words always. When I say the Verb to be, I may mean, as in the above examples, is. This is the Verb to be in the third person singular. "I write.''^ I should say that here is the pronoun I and the Verb tO' write / that is to say, it is the Verb to write in one of its forms. The to is the sign of the infinitive mode ; and the Verb in that state is the root, or the foundation, from which all the different parts or forms proceed. Having guarded ourselves against this puzzler, let us come back to our nominative case. The actor, the doer, the receiver of an action, the be-er, must always be in the nominative case ; 7 146 Syntax^ and it is called nominative case because it is that state, or situation, or case, in which the person or thing is named without being pointed out as the object, or end, of any foregoing action or purpose; as, "Ae strikes; he is stricken ; he is unhappy." This word nominative is not a good word; acting and being case, would be much better. This word nominative, like most of the terms used in teaching grammar, has been taken from the Latin. It is bad ; it is inadequate to its intended purpose ; but it is used ; and if we understand its meaning, or, rather, what it is designed to mean, its intrinsic insufficiency is of no consequence. Thus, I hope, then, that we know what the nom.inative is. "He writes; he sings; he is sick ; he is well ; he is smitten ; he is good ; " and so on, always with a he. 232. But (and now pay attention) if the action pass from the actor to a person or thing acted upon, and if there be no part of the Verb to be employed, then the person or thing acted upon is in the objective case; as, "He smites him,; he strikes him ; hQ kills him." In these instances we wish to show, not only an action that is performed and the person who performs it, but also the person upon whom it is performed. Here, therefore, we state the actor, the action, and the object ; and the person or thing which is the object, is in the objective case. The Verb is said, in such instances, to govern the noun or pronoun ; that is to say, to make it, or force it, to be in the objective case ; and to make us use him, instead of he. This is sittiply another way of saying that the transitive verb puts the noun or pronoun which follows it in the objective case, and that a sentence with a transitive verb must consist of subject, predicate, and object; as, Garfield defeated Hancock. (See par. 48.) 233. However, I remember that I was very much puz- zled on account of these cases. I saw that when "Peter was smitten,'''' Peter was in the nominative case ; but that when any person or thing '■'•had smitten Peter," Peter was As Relating to Verbs. 147 in the objective case. This puzzled me much; and the loose and imperfect definitions of my grammar-book yielded me no clue to a disentanglement. Reflection on the reason for this apparent inconsistency soon taught me, however, that, in the first of these cases, Peter is merely named, or nominated as the receiver of an action ; and that, in the latter instance, Peter is mentioned as the object of the action of some other person or thing, expressed or understood. I perceived that, in the first instance, '■'■Peter is smitten,'''' I had a complete sense. I was informed as to the person who had received an action, and also as to what sort of action he had received. And I perceived that, in the second instance, '■'■John has smitten Peter,^'' there was an actor who took possession of the use of the Verb, and made Peter the object of it; and that this actor, John, now took the nominative, and put Peter in the objective case. 234. This puzzle was, however, hardly got over when another presented itself : for I conceived the notion that Peter was in the nominative only because no actor was mentioned at all in the sentence / but I soon discovered this to be an error; for I found that " Peter is smitten by John,'''' still left Peter in the nom,inative ; and that, if I used the pronoun, I must say, "Ae is smitten by John;" and not '■'■him is smitten by John." 235. Upon this puzzle I dwelt a long time: a whole week, at least. For I was not content unless I could reconcile everything to reason; and I could see no reason for this. Peter, in this last instance, appeared to be the object, and there was the actor, John. My ear, indeed, assured me that it was right to say, '•'■He is smitten by John ;" but my reason doubted the information and assur- ances of my ear. 236. At last, the little insignificant word by attracted my attention. This word, in this place, is a preposition. Ah ! that is it ! prepositions govern nouns and pronouns ; 148 Syntax, that is to say, make them, to he in the objective case! So that John, who had plagued me so much, I found to be in the objective case ; and I found that, if I put him out, and put the pronoun in his place, I must say, " Peter is smit- ten by him.'''' 237. Now, then, my dear James, do you clearly under- stand this? If you do not, have patience. Read and think, and weigh well every part of what I have here written: for, as you will immediately see, a clear under- standing with regard to the cases is one of the main inlets to a perfect knowledge of grammar. As soon as a verb is changed from the active-transitive to the passive voice, the subject becomes the object of the sentence ; as, " She loves him," active ; " She is loved by him," passive. Be careful to observe the difference between the object and the attribute. I remember I could not, for a long time, see the differ- ence in such sentences as these : " He is a Jew. She loves a Jew." I thought that "a Jew" was, in both instances, the object of the verb; but it is not. When I came to learn German, I saw the difference at once, and the matter became clear to me. Er ist ein Jude. Sie liebt einen Juden. You see that "loves " is a transitive verb, whereas " is " is a neuter, or intransitive one. The objective case follows a transitive verb, never a neuter or intransitive one. What follows the neuter verb, therefore, or any verb naming or nominating anybody, is not the object, not anything in the objective- case; but the attribute — so called because it generally attributes something to somebody — and, if a noun, is always in the nomina- tive case. " He is a man; he is manly ; he stands a freeman; he remains a prince; he seems poor ; he appears wealthy ; he looks Tiandsome; he is called The Great Unknown; he is appointed ^McZ^'e; he is elected governor " — in all these cases, what follows the verb is an attribute or quality, and, wherever it is a noun, it is in the nominative case. Remember, therefore, that nouns following such verbs as be, become, seem, appear, stand, walk, and the passive verbs is called, is named, is styled, is appointed, is elected, is made, are always in the nominative case, and are' termed the attribute, or, by some grammarians, the complement, of the sentence. 238. Verbs, of which there must be one, at least, ex- pressed or understood, in every sentence, must ajree in ( As Melating to Verbs. 149 person and in number with the nouns or pronouns which are the nominatives of the sentence; that is to say, the Verbs must be of the same person and same number as the nominatives are. Verbs frequently change their forms and endings to make themselves agree with the nomina- tives. How necessary it is, then, to know what is, and what is not, a nominative in a sentence ! Let us take an example. "John smite Peter." "What are these words? John is a noun, third person, singular number, nomina- tive case. Smite is a Verb, Jirst person, singular number. Peter is a noun, third person, singular number, objective case. Therefore, the sentence is incorrect ; for the notni- native, John, is in the third person, and the Verb is in the first ; while both ought to be in the same per so7i. The sentence ought to be, " John smites Peter ;" and not " John smite Peter." 239. This is, to be sure, a very glaring error ; but still it is no more than an error, and is, in fact, as excusable as any other grammatical error. " The men lives in the country." Here the Verb lives is in the singular number, and the noun men, which is the nominative, is in the p>lural number. " The men live in the country," it ought to be. These errors stare us in the face. But when the sentences become longer, and embrace several nominatives and Verbs, we do not so readily perceive the errors that are committed. " The intention of the act of Parliament, and not its several penalties, decide the character of the corrupt assembly by whom it was passed." Here the noun penalties comes so near to the Verb decide that the ear deceives the judgment. But the noun intention is the nominative to the Verb, which therefore ought to be decides. Let us take a sentence still more deceiving. " Without the aid of a fraudulent paper-money, the tyrants never could have performed any of those deeds by which their safety have been endangered, and which have, at the same time, made them detested." Deeds is the nomina- 150 Syntax, tive to the last have and its principal Verb ; but safety is the nominative to the first have; and therefore this first have ought to have been has. You see that the error arises from our having the plural noun deeds in our eye and ear. Take all the rest of the sentence away, and leave " safety have been " standing by itself, and then the error is as flagrant as '■'■John smite Peter. '''' Watch me now, in the next sentence. " It must be observed that land fell greatly in price as soon as the cheats began to draw in their paper-money. In such cases the quantity and quality of the land is the same as it was before ; but the price is reduced all of a sudden, by a change in the value and power of the money, which becomes very dif- ferent from what it was." Here are two complete sen- tences, which go very glibly off the tongue. There is nothing in them that offends the ear. The first is, indeed, correct ; but the last is a mass of error. Quantity and quality, which are the nominatives in the first member of the sentence, make, together, a plural, and should have been followed, after the word land, by are and not by is; and the it was, which followed, should, of course, have been they were. In the second member of the sentence, value and power are the nominatives of becomes, which, therefore, should have been becom,e ; and then, again, there follows an it was, instead of they were. We ai'e misled, in such cases, by the nearness of the singular noim, which comes in between the nominatives and the Verbs. We should not be likely to say, " Quantity and quality is; value and power becomes.'''' But when a sin- gular noun comes in between such nominatives and the Verbs, we are very apt to be thinking of that noun, and to commit error. When we once begin, we keep on; and if the sentence be long, we get together, at last, a fine collection of Verbs and pronouns, making as complete nonsense as heart can wish. Judge Blackstone, in the 4th Book, Chapter 33, says, " The very scheme and model As Melating to Verbs. 151 of the administration of common justice, between party and party, was entirely settled by this king ; and has con- tinued nearly the same to this day." Administration of common justice was full upon the judge's ear ; down he clapped was / and has naturally followed ; and thus, my dear son, in grammar as in moral conduct, one fault almost necessarily produces others. 240. Look, therefore, at your nominative, before you put a Verb upon paper ; for, you see, it may be one word, or tvio or m.ore words. But observe, if there be two or more singular nouns or pronouns, separated by or, which, you know, is a disjoining conjunction; then, the Verb must be in the singular; as, "A soldier, or a sailor, who has served his country faithfully, is fauiy entitled to a pension ; but who will say that a prostituted peer, a pimp, or a buffoon, merits a similar provision from the public?" 241. It sometimes happens that there are, in the nomi- native, two or more nouns, or pronouns, and that they are in different numbers, or in different persons ; as, '■'■The minister or the borough-tyrants.'''' These nouns cannot have the Verb to agree with them both. Therefore if it be the conspiring of these wretches against the liberties of the people, of which we have to speak, we cannot say, " The minister or the borough- tyrants conspire; " because the Verb would not then agree in number with the noun minister; nor can we ssij conspires y because the Verb would not agree with the noun borough-tyrants. There- fore, we must not write such sentences; we must say, " The minister co7ispires, or the borough-tyrants conspire, against the liberties of the people." Repetition is some- times disagreeable to the ear ; but it is better to repeat, be it ever so often, than to write bad grammar, which is only another term for nonsense. 242. When nominatives are separated by nor, the rule of or must be followed. " Neither man nor beast is safe in such weather ; " and not are safe. And if nominatives 152 Syntax, of different numbers present themselves, we must not give them a Verb which disagrees with either the one or the other. We must not say: "Neither the halter nor the bayonets are sufficient to prevent us from obtaining our rights." We must avoid this bad grammar by using a different form of words; as, "We are to be prevented from obtaining our rights by neither the halter nor the bayonets." And why should we wish to write bad gram- mar, if we can express our meaning in good grammar? 243. If or or nor disjoin nouns and pronouns of different persons, these nouns and pronouns, though they be all of the same number, cannot be the nominative of one and the same Verb. We cannot say, "They or I am in fault; I, or they, or he, is the author of it ; George or I am the person." Mr. Lindley Murray says that we may use these phrases ; and that we have only to take care that the Verb agrees with that person which is placed nearest to it ; but he says, also, that it would be better to avoid such phrases by giving a different turn to our words. I do not like to leave anything to chance or to discretion when we have a clear principle for our guide. Fill up the sentences, and you will see what pretty work there is. " They am in fault, or I am in fault ; I is the author, or they is the author, or he is the author ; George am the person, or I am, the person." Mi\ Murray gives a similar latitud^e as to the Verbs used with a mixture of plurals and singulars, as mentioned in the foregoing paragraph. The truth, I suspect, is, that Mr. Murray, observing that great wiiters frequently committed these errors, thought it prudent to give up the cause of grammar, rather than seem to set himself against such formidable authority. But if we follow this course, it is pretty clear that we shall very soon be left with no principle and no rule of grammar. The grammarians declare that you may say, "Either he or I am the guilty one;" or, "He is the guilty one, or I am;" "You or As Helating to Verbs. 153 William is to go;" or, "You are to go, or William is." The eye or the ear often decides which is best. "You must not tell us what you or anybody else thinks,^'' seems more compact than "You must not tell us whatyoM think, or what anybody else thinks." If one of the nominatives be negatively used, the verb must be in the singular. Thus, "He, and not I, is chosen;" "I, and not they, am to go." These are, indeed, correct ; and yet I think it is better to say, He is chosen, and not I; I am to go, and not they. I beg you to notice how frequently and nicely Cobbett uses the subjunc- tive be after if and though, which is correct, and which now, unfortunately, is falling out of use among common writers. 244. The nominative is frequently a noun of multitude/ as, mob, parliam,ent, gang. Now, where this is the case, the Verb is used in the singular or in the plural, upon precisely the same principles that the pronouns are so used ; and as these principles, together with ample illus- trations by the way of example, have been given you in Letter XVII, paragraph 181, I need say nothing more of the matter. I will just observe, however, that consistency, in the use of the Verb, in such cases, is the main thing to keep in view. We may say, "The gang of borough- tyrants is cruel ; " or, " that the gang of borough-tyrants are cruel ; " but if we go on to speak of their notoriously brutal ignorance, we must not say, "The gang of borough- tyrants is cruel, and are also notoriously as ignorant as brutes." We must use is in both places, or are in both places. 245. In looking for the nominative of a sentence, take care that the relative pronoun be not a stumbling-block, for relatives have no changes to denote number or person/ and though they may sometimes appear to be of them- selves nominatives, they never can be such. " The men who are here, the man who is here ; the cocks that crow, the cock that crotos." Now, if the relative be the nomi- native, why do the Verbs change, seeing that here is no change in the relative f No : the Verb, in pursuit of its nominative, runs through the relatives to come at their 7* 154 Syyitax, antecedents, men, man, cocks, cocJc. Bishop Lowth says, however, that "the relative is the nominative when no other nominative comes between it and the Verb ; " and Mr. Murray has very faithfully copied this erroneous observation. '■'■Who is in the house"? IVho are in the house? ^Vho strikes the iron? Who strike the iron? Who vms in the street ? Who were in the street ? " Now, here is, in all these instances, no other nominative between the relative and the Verb ; and yet the Verb is continually varying. Why does it vary? Because it disregards the relative and goes and finds the antecedent, and accommo- dates its number to that antecedent. The antecedents are, in these instances, understood : " What person is in the house ? What 2>erso7is are in the house ? What person strikes the ii'on? What jt?ersoMS strike the iron? What person was in the street? What 2^^'''so'^^s were in the street?" The Bishop seems to have had a misgiving in his mind, when he gave this account of the nominative functions of the relative ; for he adds, " the relative is of the same person as the antecedent ; and the Verb agrees xcith it accordingly." Oh! oh! but the relative is always the same, and is of any and of every number 'And person. How then can the Verb, when it makes its changes in number and person, be said to agree with the relative? Disagree, indeed, with the relative the Verb cannot any more than it can with a preposition ; for the relative has, like the preposition, no changes to denote cases; but the danger is that in certain instances the relative may be taken for a nominative, without your looking after the antecedent, which is the real nominative, and that thus, not having the number and person of the antecedent clearly in your mind, you may give to the Verb a vsa'ong number or person. It is very seldom that those who lay down erroneous rules furnish us with examples by the means of which we are enabled to detect the error of these rules; yet, Mr. Murray has, in the present case, As Melating to Verbs. 155 done this most amply. For in another part of his book he has these two examples: "I am the general who give the orders to-day. I am the general loho gives the orders to-day." Here the antecedent as well as the relative are precisely the same ; the order of the words is the same ; and yet the words are different. Why? Because, in the first example, the pronoun I is the nominative, and in the second, the noun general. The first means, " I, who am the general here, give the orders to-day." The second means, "The general who gives the orders to-day is I." Nothing can more clearly show that the relative cannot be the nominative, and that to consider it as a nominative must lead to error and confusion. You will observe, therefore, that when I, in the Etymology and Syntax as relating to relative pronouns, speak of relatives as being in the nominative case, I mean that they relate to nouns or to personal pronouns which are in that case. The same observation applies to the other cases. I am strongly inclined to think that Cobbett is in error here. The relative pronoun naust have person, number, gender, and case, like any other pronoun ; and who is undoubtedly always of the same person and number as the word to which it relates. Let us put it directly after all the three persons, singular and plural: • It is I who speak, or It is I who am speaking. It is thou who speakest, " It is thou who art speaking. It is he who speaks, " It is he who is speaking. It is we who speak, " It is we who are speaking. It is you who speak, " It is you who are speaking. It is they who speak, " It is they who are speaking. Now here each who is of the same person as the pronoun or word to which it relates, and consequently the verb agrees with it. Strangely enough, the relative pronoun may, as Cobbett says, be of any person ; but that docs not prevent it from agreeing with its antecedent. I used to think that who was always of the third person, referring always to somebody spoken of; but now I see that it may be of the first person, referring to somebody who is speaking. Nevertheless, we do sometimes hear, It is I who speaks German; it is you who speaks Spanish; it is you that speaks 156 Syntax, French. This may be explained by supposing that the full meaning of the words is : It is I who am the person that speaks German -, it is you who are the person that speaks Spanish. And here again each who is of the same person as the antecedent. 246. We are sometimes embarrassed to fix precisely on the nominative, when a sort of addition is made to it by words expressing persons or things that accompany it ; as, " The Tyrant, with the Spy, have brought Peter to the block." We hesitate to determine whether the Tyraiit alone is in the nominative, or whether the nominative includes the Spy; and of course we hesitate which to employ, the singular or the plural Verb ; that is to say, has or have. The meaning must be our guide. If we mean that the act has been done by the Tyrant himself, and that the Spy has been a mere involuntary agent, then we ought to use the singular ; but if we believe that the Spy has been a co-operator • an associate; an accomplice; then we must use the plural of the Verb. " The Tyrant with his Proclamation has produced great oppression and flagrant violations of law." Mas, by all means, in this case ; because the proclamation is a mere instrument. Give the sentence a trurn: "The Tyrant has produced great oppression and flagrant violations of the law with his proclamation." This is good; but "the Tyrant has brought Peter to the block with the Spy," is bad; it sounds badly ; and it is bad sense. It does not say what we mean it should say. "A leg of mutton, with turnips and carrots, is very good." If we mean to say that a leg of mutton when cooked with these vegetables, is good, we must use is y but if we be speaking of the goodness of a leg of mutton and these vegetables taken together, we must use are. When with means along with, together with, in company with, and the like, it is nearly the same as and; and then the plural Verb must be used. ^'■Ile, with his bare hand, takes up hot iron." Not, "he, with his bare hand, take up." "He, with his brothers, are As Melating to Verbs. 157 able to do mucli." Not, "2S able to do much." If the pronoun be used instead of brothers, it will be in the objective case: "He, with thein, ai-e able to do much." But this is no impediment to the including of the noun (represented by them) in the nominative. With, which is a preposition, takes the objective case after it; but if the persons or things represented by the words coming after the preposition form part of the actors in a sen- tence, the imderstood nouns make part of the nominatives. " The bag, with the guineas and dollars in it, were stolen." For if we say vms stolen, it is possible for us to mean that the bag only was stolen. "Sobriety, with great industry and talent, enable a man to perform great deeds." And not enables ; for sobriety alone would not enable a man to do great things. " The borough-tyranny, with the paper-money makers, have produced misery and starvation." And not has ^' for we mean that the two have co-operated. "Zeal, with disci-etion, do much;" and not, does much; for we mean, on the contrary, that it does nothing. It is the meaning that must determine which of the numbers we ought, in all such cases, to employ. The grammarians are now unanimous in declaring that a phrase beginning with the preposition with, coming directly after the subject, does not affect the verb, or predicate ; as, The vessel, with her crew, was lost ; the regiment, with its officers, was captured ; the house, with its contents, Jias been sold; the minister, with his cabinet, has resigned; the emperor, with his family, has been assassinated ; . Cobbett, with his Grammar, lias done much good. Therefore, it is correct to say, The tyrant, with the spy, has brought Peter to the block; he, with his brothers, has done much; the bag, with the guineas and dollars in it, was stolen; zeal, with discretion, does much. Because, in these instances, "with the spy" and "with his brothers" indicate, like the phrase with his proclamation, merely instruments ; and the sentence about the bag of money means simply that the bag was stolen with what it contained. The sentence about sobriety means that this virtue, employed or combined with other qualities, enables a man to 158 Syntax, perform great deeds ; and that about zeal with discretion must be regarded in the same way. Besides, the preposition with puts the spy and the brothers, the guineas and the dollars, the industry and the talent, in the objective case; and how can any tiling in the objective case be the subject, which is always in the nominative case ? What Cobbett says about the sentence, "He, with his brothers, are able to do much," is about as good an example of sophistry as any thing I know. For an expression of this kind, see Cobbett's account of the sand-hill as an educator. Life, page 261. The same is the case with sentences in which the phrase as well as occurs. Clay, as well as Webster, was a great orator ; Charles, as well as his brother, was successful in business ; the father, as well as his son, is in fault; the minutest insect, as well as the largest quadruped, derives its life from the same Omnipotent Source. 247. The Verb to he sometimes comes between two nouns of diiferent numbers. "The great evil is the borough- debt." In this sentence there is nothing to embarrass us ; because evil and horough-deht are both in the singular. But, " the great evil is the taxes,^^ is not so clear of embarrassment. The embarrassment is the same, when there is a singular noun on one side, and two or more singulars or plurals on the other side; as, "The curse of the country is the profligacy, the rapacity, the corruption of the law-makers, the base subserviency of the administrators of the law, and the frauds of the makers of paper-money." Now, we mean, here, that these things constitute, ox form, or make up, a curse. We mean that the cui"se consists of these things; and if we said this, there would be no puzzling. " The evil is the taxes." That is, the taxes constitute the evil ; but we cannot say, "the evil are the taxes ; " nor can we say, that the "curse are these things." Avoid, then, the use of the Verb to be in all such cases. Say, the curse of the country consists of, or arises from, or is produced hy. Dr. Blaik, in his 19th Lecture, says: "A feeble, a harsh, or an obscure style, are always faultsP The or required the singular Verb is ; but faults required are. If he had put is and faulty, there would have been no doubt of his being As Melating to Yerhs. 159 correct. But as the sentence now stands, there is great room for doubt, and, that, too, as to more than one point ; for fault means defect, and a style, which is a whole, cannot well be called a defect, which mean a want of good- ness in a part. Feebleness, harshness, obscurity, are faidty. But to call the style itself, to call the whole thing 0, fault, is more than the Doctor meant. The style may be faulty, and yet it may not be a fault. The Doctor's work is faulty; but, surely, the work is not 2i fault! 248. Lest you should be, in certain instances, puzzled to find your nominative case, which, as you now see, con- stitutes the main spring and regulator of every sentence, I will here point out to you some instances wherein there is used, apparently, neither Verb nor nominative. "7?^ general I dislike to drink wine." This in general is no more, in fact, than one word. It means generally. But sometimes there is a Verb comes in : "generally speaking." Thus: "The borough-tyrants, generally speaking, are great fools as well as rogues." That is to say, "when we speak generally;" or, "if ?"6 are speaking generally;" or, " when men ov people speak generally." For observe that there never can he a sentence without a Verb, expressed or understood, and that there never can he a Verb without a nominative case, expressed or understood. 249. Sometimes not only two or more nouns, or pro- nouns, may be the nominative of a sentence, but many other words along with them may assist in making a nominative ; as, " Pitt, Rose, Steele, and their associates, giving to Walter a sum of the pjjblic money, as a reward for libelling the sons of the king, was extremely profligate and base." That is to say, this act of Pitt and his asso- ciates was extremely profligate and base. It is, when you come to inquire, the act which is the nominative, and all the other words only go to describe the origin and end of the act. 160 Syntax, I doubt very much whether this sentence be correct. Following Cobbett's own instructions, let us shorten the sentence, and see how it will look then: "Pitt giving Walter a sum of money was extremely base." I think this neither looks nor sounds correct. It was Ms act, PitVs act, which was base; and tlierefore it should be, "Pitt's giving Walter a sum of money was extremely base;" that is to say, Pitt's acting was base; for we cannot say, Pitt act ing was base. We say, "Bacon's drawing up charges against Essex was extremely base; John Chinaman's working for low wages is the head and front of his offense ;" and not. Bacon draw- ing up, etc. — By-the-bye, such sentences as, "The great evil is the taxes," are perfectly correct; for the subject is "the evil," which is singular, and it makes little matter what the attribute may be, for it has nothing to do with the verb. It is precisely the same form of expression which we use when we say. It is we ; it is you ; it is they ; it is the boys ; it is the rich ; it is the wicked ; it is the Italians ; and so on. 250. You must take care that there be a nominative, and that it be clearly expressed or understood. " The Attorney-General Gibbs, whose malignity induced him to be extremely violent, and vms listened to by the Judges." The first Verb induced has a nominative, namely, the malignity of the Attorney-General Gibbs; but the was has no nominative, either expressed or clearly understood ; and we cannot, therefore, tell what or who it was that was listened to ; whether the malignity of Gibbs, or Gibbs himself. It should have been, and who, or, and he, was listened to ; and then we should have known that it was Gibbs himself that was listened to. The omitting of the nominative, five hundred instances of which I could draw from Judge Blackstone and Doctor Johnson, arises very often from a desire to _avoid a repetition of the noun or pronouns ; but repetition is always to be preferred before obscurity. 251. Now, my dear James, I hope that I have explained to you, sufficiently, not only ichat the 7iominative is, but what are its powers in every sentence, and that I have imprinted deeply on your mind the necessity of keeping As delating to Verbs. 161 the nominative constantly in your eye. For want of doing this, Judge Blackstone has, in Book IV, Chap. 17, com- mitted some most ludicrous errors. " Our ancient Saxon laws nominally punished theft with deatii, if above the value of twelve-pence ; hut the criminal was permitted to redeem his life by a pecuniary ransom ; as among their German ancestors^ What confusion is here? "W^se ancestors ? Theirs. Who are they f Why the criminal. Theirs, if it retate to anything, must relate to laws; and then the laws have ancestors. Then, what is it that was to be of above the value of twelve-pence ? The death, or the theft? By, ^Hf above the value of twelve-pence," the Judge, without doubt, meant, "*y the thing stolen were above the value of twelve-pence;" but he says no such thing ; and the meaning of the words is, if the death were above the value of twelve-pence. The sentence should have stood thus: "Our ancient Saxon laws nominally punished theft with death, if the thing stolen were above the value of twelve-pence; but the crimiuals were per- mitted to redeem their lives by a pecuniary ransom ; as among their German ancestors." I could quote, from the same author, hundreds of examples of similar errors ; but were there only this one to be found in a work which is composed of matter which was read, in the way of Lec- tures, by a professor of law, to students in the University of Oxford, even this one ought to be sufficient to convince you of the importance of attending to the precepts which I have given you relative to this part of our subject. 252. As to the objective case, it has nothing to do with Verbs ; because a noun which is not in the nominative must be in the objective ; and because Verbs do never vary their endings to make themselves agree with the objective. This case has been sufficiently explained under the head of personal pronouns, which have endings to denote it. 253. The possessive case, likewise, has nothing to do 162 SyntaxjA, with Verbs, only you must take care that you do not, in any instance, look upon it as a nominative. "The quality of the apples were good." No ; it must be was ; for qual- ity is the nominative and apples the possessive. "The want of learning, talent, and sense are more visible in the two houses of Parliament than in any other part of the nation." Take care upon all such occasions. Such sentences are, as to grammatical construction, very deceiv- ing. It should be " is more visible ;" for wa^it is the nomi- native ; and learning, talent, and sense are in the posses- sive. The want of learning, and so on. 254. You now know all about the person and number of Verbs. You know the reasons upon which are founded their variations with regard to these two circumstances. Look, now, at the conjugation in Letter VTII, paragraph 98; and you will see that there remain the Times and Modes to be considered. 255. Of Times there is very little to be said here. All the fanciful distinctions oi perfect ^present, more past, and more perfect past, and numerous others, only tend to bewilder, confuse, and disgust the learner. There can be but three times, ihe pkresent, the^as^, \h.e future ; and, for the expressing of these, our language provides us with words and terminations the most suitable that can possil^y be conceived. Li some languages, which contain no little words such as our signs, will, shall, may, and so on, the Verbs themselves change their form in order to express what we express by the help of these signs. In French, for instance, there are tioo past times. I will give you an example in order to explain this matter. " The working men, every day, gave money to the tyi^ants, who, in retmn, gave the working men dungeons and axes." Now here is our word gave, which is the past time of the Verb to give. It is the same word, you see, in both instances; but you will see it diiferent in the French. "Tous les jours, les ouvriers donnaient de As Helating to Verbs. 163 I'argerit aux tyi'ants, qui, en retoui", donnerent aux ouvriers des cachots et des baches." You see that, in one place, our give is translated by donnaient, and in the other place, by donnerent. One of thfese is called, in French, the past imperfect, and the other the past perfect. This distinction is necessary in the French; but similar dis- tinctions are wholly unnecessary in English. 256. In the Latin language, the Verbs change their endings so as to include in the Verbs themselves what we express by our auxiliary Verb to have. And they have as many changes, or different endings, as are required to express all those various circumstances of time which we express by loork, worked, shall work, may work, might loork, have worked, had worked, shall have worked, m,ay have worked, might have worked, and so on. It is, there- fore, necessary for the Latins to have distinct appellations to suit these various circumstances of time, or states of an action ; but such distinction of appellations can be of no use to us, whose Verbs never vary then* endings to express time, except the single variation from the present to the past / for, even as to the future, the signs answer our purpose. In our compound times, that is to say, such as / have worked, there is the Verb to have, which be- comes had, or s?iall have, and so on. 257. Why, then, should we perplex ourselves with a multitude of artificial distinctions, which cannot, by any possibility, be of any use in practice ? These distinctions have been introduced from this cause: those who have written English Grammars have been taught Latia ; and either unable to divest themselves of their Latin rules, or unwilling to treat with simplicity that which, if made somewhat of a mystery, would make them appear more learned than the mass of people, they have endeavored to make our simple language turn and twist itself so as to become as complex in its principles as the Latin lan- gviage is. 164 Syntax, 258. There are, however, some few remarks to be made with regard to the times of Verbs; but before I make them, I must speak of the participles. Just cast your eye again on Letter VIII, paragraphs 97 and 102. Look at the conjugations of the Verbs to loork, to have, and to he, in that same Letter. These participles, you see, with the help of to have and to be, form oiir compouyid thnes. I need not tell you that / was working means the same as I worked, only that the former supposes that something else was going on at the same time, or that something happened at the time I was working, or that, at least, there is some circumstance of action or of existence col- lateral with tny working ; as, " I was working when he came; I loas sick while I was working ; it rained while I was working ; she scolded while I was working." I need not tell you the use of do and did; I need not say that I do work is the same as I work, only the former com- presses the action more positively, and adds some de- gree of force to the assertion ; and that did work is the same as worked, only the former is, in the past time, of the same use as do is in the present. I need not dwell here on the uses of %oill, shall, may, might, should, would, can, could, and must ; which uses, various as they are, are as well known to us all as the uses of our teeth and our noses ; and to misapply which words argues not only a deficiency in the reasoning faculties, but also a deficiency in instinctive discrimination. I will not, my dear James, in imitation of the learned doctors, pester you with a philological examination into the origin and properties of words, with regard to the use of which, if you were to commit an error in conversation, your brother Richard, who is four years old, would instantly put you right. Of all these little words I have said quite enough before; but when the Verbs to have and to he are used as auxili- aries to principal Verbs, and, especially, when the sen- tences are long, errors of great consequence may be com- As Helating to Verbs. 165 mitted ; and, therefore, against these it will be proper to guard you. And yet, here in the United States, there is no more common error than the confounding of shall and will. If you can stick the following rule fast in your mind, it will save you from making many mistakes in the \ase of these words : — I shall, you will, he will, are the forms of tlie future, and merely foretell what will take place ; / loill, you shall, he shall, arc the forms of the potential, and express will or determination on the part of the speaker. The latter are equal to the German ich will, du sollst, er soil. I^ow try to repeat this rule without looking at the book. Turn it over in your mind, and try it in sentences of your own formation. Look at the last three paragraphs of Cobbett's Farewell Address to his Countrymen, page 159. An English nobleman, Sir E. W. Head, has written a whole book on these two mighty little words, " Shall and Will," from which the following "admirable statement of the true distinction between these auxiliaries "* is taken : ' ' Will in the first person expresses a resolution or a promise : ' I will not go '' — itis my resolution not to go. ' I. will give it you ' = I promise to give it you. Will in the second Tpar&on foretells : 'If you come at six o'clock, you will find me at home.' Will in the second person, in questions, anticipates a wish or an intention: Will you go to-morrow?' = Is it your wish or intention to go to-morrow T Will in the third person foretells, generally implying an intention at the same time, when the nominative is a rational creature ; ' He will come to-morrow,' signifies what is to take place, and that it is the intention of the person mentioned to come. * I think it will snow to-day,' intimates what is, probably, to take place. Will must never be used in questions with nominative cases of the first person : ' Will we come to-morrow ?' = Is it our inten- tion or desire to come to-morroio ? which is an absurd question. We must say. Shall we come to-morrow? " Would is subject to the same rules as will. Would followed by that is frequently used (the nominative being expressed or under- stood) to express a wish : ' Would that he had died before this dis- grace befell him!' = I wish that he had died before this disgrace befell Mm. Would have, followed by an infinitive, signifies a desire to do or to make ; ' I would have you think of these things ' = / wish to make you think of these things. Would is often used to express a ♦A. S. Hill's Rhetoric, in which I found the above rule and this quotation. 166 Syntax, custom: 'He would often talk about these things' = ^ It was his custom to talk of these things. '^ Shall in the first person foretells, simply expressing wAai is to take place : ' I shall go to-morrow. ' Notice that no intention or desire is expressed by sliall. Shall, in the first person, in questions, asks permission : ' Shall 1 read ?' = Do you wish me, or loill you per- mit me to read? Shall in the second and third persons expresses a promise, a command, or a threat : ' You shall have these books to-morrow' = / promise to let you have these books to-morrow. ' Thou shalt not steal ' — / command thee not to steal. ' He shall be punished for this ' = I threaten to punish him, for this offense. ''Should is subject to the same rules as shall. Should frequently r expresses duty: ' You should not do so ' = It is your duty not to do so. Should often signifies a plan : ' I should not do so ' = It would not he my plan to do so. Should often expresses supposition: ' Should they not agree to the proposals, what must I do ?' = Sup- pose that it happen that they loill not agree to tlie proposals.'''' If you wish any more on this Head, read any play of Shake- speare's, and take down every sentence with will or shall, would or should, and learn them by heart. Mr. White, speaking of this very matter, says admirably, "The best way is, to give yourself no trouble at all about your grammar. Read the best authors, con- verse with the best speakers, and know what you mean to say, and you will speak and write good English, and may let grammar go to its 01071 place!'''' Jacob said to the angel, '* I will not let thee go till thou hast blessed me." You would say to your servant, "1 shall let you go if you do your duty." Consider the difference in meaning between these two. 259. Time is so plain a matter ; it must be so well known to us, whether it be the present, the j!?as^, or the future, that we mean to express, that we shall hai'dly say, " We work,''^ when we are speaking of our having viorked last year. But you have seen in Letter XVI, paragraph 171 (look at it again), that Doctor Blair could make a mistake in describing the time of an action. Doctor Blair makes use of "it had been better omitted." Meaning that it woidd have been better to omit it. This is a sheer vulgarism, like, "I had as lief be killed as enslaved." Which ought to be, "I toow^c? as lief." But the most common error is the using of the Yerb to have As Melating to Verbs. 167 vith the passive paxticiple, when the past time, simply, ■r the infinitive of the Verb ought to be used. " Mr. ipeaker, I expected from the former language and posi- ive promises of the Noble Lord and the Right Honorable he Chancellor of the Exchequer, to have seen the Bank jaying in gold and silver." This is House-of- Commons language. Avoid it as you would avoid all the rest of their doings. I expected to see, to be sui'e, and not have seen, because the have seen carries your act of seeing lack beyond the period within which it is supposed to have been expected to take place. "T expected to have ploughed my land last Monday P That is to say, " I last Monday was in the act of expecting to have ploughed my land before that day."" But this is not what the writer means. He means to say that, last Monday, or before that day, he was in the act of expecting to plough his land on that day. " I called on him and loished to have submitted my manuscript to him." Five hundi'ed such errors are to be found in Dr. Goldsmith's works. "I wished, then and there, to subm,it my manuscript to him." I wished to do something there, and did not then wish that I had done something before. 260. When you use the active participle, take care that the times be attended to, and that you do not, by misap- plication, make confusion and nonsense. " I had not the pleasure of hearing his sentiments when I wrote that letter." It should be of having heard ; because the hear- ing must be supposed to have been wanted previous to the act of wiiting. This word wanted, and the word icanting, are frequently misused. "All that was wanting was honesty." It should be wanted. "The Bank is weighed in the balance, and found wanting," and not xcanted. Found to be wanting, or in want; in want of money to pay its notes. 261. I will not fatigue your memory with more examples relating to the times of Yerbs. Consider well what you 168 Syntax, mean; what you toish to say. Examine well into the true meaning of your words, and you will never make a mistake as to the times. "7" thought to have heard the Noble Lord produce something like proof." No! my dear James will never fall into the use of such senseless gabble! You would think of hearing something; you would exjDect to hear, not to have heard. You would be waiting to hear, and not, like these men, be xcaiting to have heard. "/ should have liked to have been informed of the amount of the Exchequer Bills." A phraseology like this can be becoming only in those Houses where it was proposed to relieve the distresses of the nation by setting the laborers to dig holes one day and fill them up the next. 262. It is erroneous to confound the past time with the passive participle of the Verb. But now, before I speak of this very common error, let us see a little more about the participles. You have seen, in Letter VIII, what the participles are ; you have seen that working is the active participle, and xoorked the passive participle. "VVe shall speak fully of the active by-and-by. The passive parti- ciple and the Verb to he, or some part of that Verb, make what is called the passive Verb. This is not a Verb which, in its origin, differs from an active Verb, in like manner as a neuter Verb differs from an active Verb. To sleep is neuter in its origin, and must, in all its parts, be neuter ; but every active Verb may become a passive Verb. The passive Verb is, in fact, that state of an active Verb which expresses, as we have seen above, the action as being received or endured ; and it is called passive because the receiver or endurer of the action is passive; that is to say, does nothing. "John smites; John is smitten.'''' Thus, then, the passive Verb is no other than the passive parti- ciple used along with some part of the Verb to he. 263. Now, then, let us see a specimen of the errors of which I spoke at the beginning of the last paragraph. As JRelating to Verbs. 169 When the Verb is regular, there can be no error of this sort ; because the past time and the passive participle are wiitteu in the same manner; as, "John worked ; John is worked^ But, when the Verb is irregular, and when the past time and the passive participle are written in a manner different from each other, there is room for error, and error is often committed: "John smote; John is smotey This is gross. It offends the ear ; but when a company, consisting of men who have been enabled, by the favor of the late William Pitt, to plunder and insult the people, meet under the name of a Pitt Club, to cele- brate the bu'thday of that corrupt and cruel minister, those who publish accounts of their festivities always tell us, that such and such toasts toere drank; instead of drunk. I drank at my dinner to-day ; but the milk and water wliich I drank, toere drunk by me. In the lists of Irregular Verbs, in Letter VIII, the differences between the past times and the passive participles are all clearly shown. You often hear people say, and see them write, "We have spoke; it was spoke in my hearing;" but "we have came; it was did,'''' are just as correct. It may be well to notice that most of these verbs, like the German verbs from which they are derived, change the i to a in the past tense, and to u in the past participle. Say, therefore, I sing, sang, have snug; I spring, sprang, have sprung; I ring, rang, have rung; I swim, swam, have swum; I sink, sank, have sunk; and so on. But there are a few exceptions; as, to fling, to cling, to wring, to sting, which change the i to u in both the past tense and the past participle. 264. Done is the passive participle of to do, and it is very often misused. This done is frequently a very great offender against grammar. To do is the act of doing. We often see people write, "I did not speak, yesterday, so well as I wished to liave done.'''' Now, what is meant by the writer? He means to say that he did not speak so well as he then wished, or was wishing, . to speak. 8 170 Syntax, Therefore, the sentence should be, "I did not speak yes- terday so well as I wished to do.'"' That is to say, "so well as I wished to do it;" that is to say, to do, or to perform,' the act of speaking. 265. Take great care not to be too free in your use of the Verb to do in any of its times or modes. It is a nice little handy word, and, like our oppressed it, it- is made use of very often when the writer is at a loss for what to put down. To do is to act, and, therefore, it never can, in any of its parts, supply the place of a neuter Verb. Yet, to employ it for this purpose is very common. Dr. Blair, in his 23rd Lecture, says : " It is somewhat unfor- tunate that this Number of the Spectator did not end, as it might very well have done, with the former beautiful period." That is to say, "done ^7." And, then, we ask: done what ? Not the act of ending y because, in this case, there is no action at all. The Verb means to come to an end; to cease; not to go any further. This same Verb to end, is, sometimes, an active Verb: "I end my sentence ; " and then the Verb to do may supply its place ; as, "I have not ended my sentence so well as I might have done; " that is, done it; that is, done, or performed, the act of ending. But the Number of the Spectator was no actor; it was expected to perform nothing ; it was, by the Doctor, wished to have ceased to proceed. " Did not end as it very well might have ended. . . ." This would have been correct ; but the Doctor wished to avoid the repetition, and thus he fell into bad grammar. "Mr. Speaker, I do not feel so well satisfied as I should have done, if the Right Honorable gentleman had explained the matter more fiilly." You constantly hear talk like this amongst those whom the boroughs make law-givers- To feel satisfied is, when the satisfaction is to arise from conviction produced by fact or reasoning, a senseless ex- pression ; and to supply its place, when it is, as in this case, a neuter Verb, by to do, is as senseless. Done whatf As Relating to Verbs. 171 Done the act of feeling ! " I do not feel so well satisfied as I should have done^ or executed, or performed the act of feeling I"' What incomprehensible words! Very be- coming in the creatures of corruption, but ridiculous in any other persons in the world. 266. But do not misunderstand me. Do not confotmd do and did, as parts of a principal Verb, with the same words, as parts of an auxiliary. Read again Letter VIII, paragraph 111. Do and did, as helpers, are used with neuter as well as with active Verbs; for here it is not their business to supply the place of other Verbs, but merely to add strength to affirmations and negations, or to mark time; as, "The sentence does end; I do feel easy." But done, which is the passive participle of the active Verb to do, can never be used as an auxiliary. The want of making this distinction has led to the very common error of which I spoke in the last paragraph, and against which I am very desirous to guard you. 267. In sentences which are negative or interrogative, do and did express time ; as, "Tou do not sleep ; did you noifeelT'' But they do not here supply the place of other Verbs; they merely help; and their assistance is useful only as to the circumstance of time ; for we may say, " You sleep not ; felt you not V And if in answer to this question, I say, " I did^'' the word/eeZ is vmderstood; ''IdidfeeV You will sometimes hear even Wall-street millionaires say, " I done it ; he seen him ; he is dead broke ;" which is confounding the past participle and the past tense. You must say, I did it, I saw him ; he is dead broken; or, rather, completely ruined. But here is a very important matter; something which Cobbett does not touch; something of prime importance. What is the differ- ence between " 1 did it" and " I have done it?" between " I was in New York" and "I have been in NewY'ork?" between "I wrote the letter" and " I have written the letter?" When do you use the one and when the other? Think for a moment. Give your own explanation before reading, mine. These two forms are 172 Syyitax, termed the past tense and the present perfect tense. Those who are '•native and to the manner born" seldom confound these tenses, but foreigners constantly do. The distinction between them, however, is exceedingly plain. We use the past tense when speaking of anything that has happened in a completely past time ; as, I did it yesterday ; 1 was in New York last week ; I wrote a letter last Thursday. We use the present perfect tense when speaking of anjiJiing that has happened in a time not yet entirely past, or in an indefinite past time: I have done it to-day; I have been in New York this week; I have written many letters ; I have been in Paris. Both the Germans and the French can, in their languages, use either form for the same time ; so that they can say, which we cannot, ''I have been in Kew York yesterday: I have written a letter last week." The past perfect, Ihaddone^ I had written, I Tiad been, is used when speaking of something happening at a time farther back than or anterior to a given past time. For instance : While I am. telling you of what happened to me in 1868 in London, and of my doing something there at that time, and of my writing a letter to somebody in that year, I suddenly inform you, for the better understanding of my narrative, that I had been in London before that year; that I had done something there before that time, and that I Tiad written to somebody before writing at that time. This, you see, is past perfect time ; it is going behind the past time of our narrative ; and it is caUed the perfectly past time. 268. "Well, then, I think, that as far as relates to the active Yerb, the passive Yerb, and the j)assive jDarticiple, enough has now been said. Tou have seen, too, some- thing of the difference between the functions of the active Yerb and those of the neuter; but there are a few remarks to be made with regard to the latter. A neuter Yerb cannot have a noun or a pronoun ia the objective case immediately after it; for though we say, "I dream a dream,'^ it is understood that my mind has been engaged in a dream. " I live a good Ufe^"' means that I am hving in a good manner. " I icalk my horse about,"' means that I lead or conduct my horse in the pace called a ^ccdk. Nor can a neuter Yerb become j^^ssive; because a passive Verb is no other than a Yerb describing an action received As ^Relating to Verbs. 173 or endured. "The noble earl, on returning to town, found that the noble countess toas eloped with his grace." I read this very sentence in an English newspaper not long ago. It should be had eloped; for was eloped means that somebody had eloped the countess; it means that she had received or endured, from some actor, the act of elop- ing, whereas? she is the actress, and the act is confined to herself. The Verb is called neuter because the action does not pass over to anything. There are Verbs which are inactive; such as, to sit, to sleep, to exist. These are also neuter Verbs, of coiu'se. But inactivity is not neces- sary to the making of a Verb neuter. It is sufficient for this purpose that the action do not pass from the actor to any object. These inactive verbs are the real neuter ones ; for, in the use of them, the nominative is neither acting nor acted on. But we now set down the whole batch, neuter and intransitive, as intransitive verbs; and Cobbett simply shows, by this verb to elope, that we cannot use an intransitive verb in the passive voice ; we can no more say I am eloped than we can say I am sitted, I am slept, or I am existed. There are a few intransitive verbs that seem an excep- tion to this rule ; but they are not. I mean the verbs to come, to arrive, to go, to return, to fall, to rise, and some others. Let me set them down in the two ways in which they are used: He has come, He is come. He has arrived. He is arrived. He has gone. He is gone. He has returned. He is returned. He has fallen. He is fallen. He has risen. He is risen. In the second form. He is come, etc. , the words come, arrived, gone, returned, fallen, risen, are not really participles, but adjectives, indicating state; so this form is not at all a passive form of the verb; it is simply neuter; for the subject is neither acting nor acted on. In the first form. He has come, etc., these words are participles, and the sentences indicate action completed. But I find I am anticipating ; Cobbett saj^s the same thing in the next paragraph but one. Just keep in mind that what he calls neuter 174: Syntax, we now call intransitvoe; and that what he calls active, we now call transitive. 269. In the instance just mentioned, tlie error is fla- grant: "was eloped,^'' is what few persons would put down in writing ; yet anybody might do it upon the au- thority of Dr. Johnson; for he says in his Dictionary that to elope is an active Verb, though he says that it is synonymous with to run aumy, which, in the same Dic- tionary, he says, is a neuter Verb. However, let those who prefer Doctor Johnson's authority to the dictates of reason and common sense say that " his grace eloped the countess; and that, accordingly, the countess was eloped.''^ 270. The danger of error, in cases of this kind, arises from the circumstance of there being many Verbs which are active in one sense and neuter in another. The Verb to endure, for instance, when it means to support, to sus- tain, is active; as, "I endure pain.'''' But when it means to last, to continxhe, it is neuter ; as, " The earth endures from age to age." In the first sense we can say, the pain is endxcred; but, in the last, we cannot say the earth is endured from age to age. We say, indeed, I am fallen; the colt is grown, the trees are rotten, the stone is crum- bled, the post is moiddered, the pitcher is cracked; though to grow, to rot, to crumble, to moulder, to crack, are all of them neuter Verbs. But it is clearly understood here that we mean that the colt is in a grown, or augmented state; that the trees are i?i a rotten state; and so on; and it is equally clear that we could not mean that the countess was in an eloped state. " The noble earl found that the countess toas gone.'" This is correct, though to go is a neuter Verb. But gone, in this sense, is not the participle of the Verb to go; it is merely an adjective, meaning absent. If we put any word after it, which gives it a verbal signification, it becomes erroneous. " He found that the countess vkis gone out of the house.''' That is to As Relating to Verbs. 175 say, was absent out of the house; and this is nonsense. It must, in this ease be, "He found that the countess had gone out of the housed 271. Much more might be said upon this part of my subject; many niceties might be stated and discussed; but I have said quite enough on it to answer every useful pm'pose. Here, as everywhere else, take time to think. There is a reason for the right use of every word. Have your meaning clear in yovu' mind ; know the meaning of all the words you employ ; and then you will seldom com- mit errors. 272. There remains to be noticed the use of the active ^participle, and then we shall have a few, and only a few, words to say upon the subject of the modes of Verbs. As to the active participle, paragraph 97, in Letter VIII, will have told you nearly all that is necessary. We know well that I am working means that I work, and so on. There is great nicety in distinguishing the circumstances which call for the use of the one from those which call for the other : but, like many other things, though very difficult to explain by words, these circumstances are per- fectly well understood, and scrupulously attended to, by even the most illiterate persons. The active participle is, you know, sometimes a noun in its functions ; as, " Work- ing is good for oui- health." Here it is the nominative case to the Verb is. Sometimes it is an adjective; as, "the working people." As a noun it may be in any of the three cases ; as, " Working is good ; the advantage of working; I like working.^'' It may be in the singular or in the plural : " The working of the mines ; the workings of corruption." Of course it requires articles and prepo- sitions as nouns require them. More need not be said about it ; and, indeed, my chief purpose in mentioning the active participle in this place is to remind you that it may be a nominative case in a sentence. 273. The modes have been explained in Letter VIII, 176 Syntax, paragraphs 92, 93, 94, 95, and 96. Eead tliose paragraphs again. The infinitive mode has, in almost all respects, the power of a noun. '■'■To v)ork is good for our health." Here it is the nominative of the sentence. " To eat, to drink, and to sleep, are necessary." It cannot become a plural ; but it may be, and frequently is, in the objective case; as, '■'■I want to eat." The to is, in some few cases, omitted when the infinitive is in the objective case ; as, ^'•I dare writey But, "I dare to write," is just as neat, and more proper. The to is omitted by the use of the ellipsis; as, "I like to shoot, hunt, and course." But care must be taken not to leave out the to, if you thereby make the nieaniyig doubtful. Eepetition is sometimes disagreeable, and tends to enfeeble language; but it is always preferable to obscurity. Here is a little difficulty. Cobbett has repeatedly said that the nominative always follows the verb to he; and so it does ; but it is not always so with the infinitive of this verb. Look at these two sentences: I supposed it to be him. I am supposed to be he. In the first instance, the grammarians say that we must say to he Mm, because it follows a word in the objective case (it), and is the complement of that word; and in the second case we must say to he he, because It follows a word in the nominative case (I), and is the complement of that word. Observe that in the second example it is as If I said, " I am supposed to be existing ;'''' and in the first, as if 1 said, " 1 supposed something.^'' 274. If you cast your eye once more on the conjugation of the Verb to work, in Letter VIII, you will see that I have there set down the three other modes with all then- persons, numbers, and times. The imperative mode I despatched very quietly by a single short paragraph ; and, indeed, in treating of the other two modes, the indicative and the subjunctive, there is nothing to do but to point; out the trifling variations that our Verbs undergo in order to make them suit their forms to the differences of mode. As Relating to Verbs. Ill The indicative mode is that manner of using the Verb which is appHed when we are speaking of an action with- out any other action being at all connected with it, so as to make the one a condition or corisequence of the other. " He works every day ; he rides out ; " and so on. But, there may be a condition or a consequence dependent on this working and riding; and in that case these Verbs must be in the subjunctive mode ; because the action they express deperids on something else, going before or coming after. "If he loork every day, he shall hejiaid every day; if he ride out, he will not be at home by supper time." The s is dropped at the end of the Verbs here; and the true cause is this, that there is a sign understood. If filled up, the sentence would stand thus : " If he should loork; if he should ride out." So that, after all, the Verb has, in reality, no change of termination to denote lohat is called mode. And all the fuss which grammarians have made about the potential modes, and other fanciful dis- tinctions of the kind, only serve to puzzle and perplex the learner. 275. Verbs in general, and, indeed, all the Verbs, except the Verb to be, have always the same form in the present time of the indicative and in that of the subjunctive, in all the persons, save the second and third person singular. Thus, we say, in the present of the indicative, I work, we woi'k, you work, they work; and in the subjunctive the same. But we say, in the former, thou workest, he works; while, in the subjunctive, we say, thou work, he loork; that is to say, thou inayst work, or mightst, or shouldst (and so on), work ; and he may work, or might or should, as the sense may require. Therefore, as to all Verbs, except the Verb to be, it is only ifi these two persons that any thing can happen to render any distinction of mode necessary. But the Verb to be has more variation than any other Verb. All other Verbs have the same form in their indicative present time as in their infinitive m,ode, 8* 178 Syntax, with the trifling exception of the st and s added to the second and third person singular ; as, to have, to write, to work, to run; I have, I write, I work, I run. But the Verb to be becomes, in the present time of its indicative, I am, thou art, he is, we are, you are, they are; which are great changes. Therefore, as the subjunctive, in all its persons, takes the infinitive of the Verb without any change at all, the Verb to be exhibits the use of this mode most clearly ; for, instead of I ain, thou art, he is, we are, the subjunctive requires, I be, thou be, he be, we be; that is to say, I may be, or might be ; and so on. Look now at the conjugation of the Verb to be, in Letter VIII, paragraph 117 ; and then come back to me. 276. You see, then, that this important Verb, to be, has a form in some of its persons appropriated to the sub- junctive mode. This is a matter of consequence. Dis- tinctions, without differences in the things distinguished, are fanciful, and, at best, useless. Here is a real difference ; a practical difference ; a difference in the form of the word. Here is a past time of the subjunctive ; a past time distin- guished, in some of its persons, by a different manner of spelling or writing the word. If I be; if I were; if he were; and not if I was, if he was. In the case of other Verbs, the past of the indicative is the same as the past of the subjunctive ; that is to say, the Verb is written in the same letters ; but in the case of the Verb to be it is other- wise. If I worked, if I sm^ote, if I had. Here the Verbs are the same as in I worked, I stnote, I had; but in the case of the Verb to be, we must say, in- the past of the indicative, I was, and in that of the subjunctive, if I were. 277. The question, then, is this : What are the cases in which we ought to use the subjunctive form? Bishop Lowth, and, on liis authority, Mr. Lindley Murray, have said, that some conjunctions have a government of verbs; that is to say, make them or force them to be in the sub- jimctive mode. And then these gentlemen mention par- As Melating to Verbs. 179 ticularly the conjunctions, if, though, unless, and some others. But (and these gentlemen allow it), the Verbs which follow these conjunctions are not always in the subjunctive mode; and the using of that mode must depend, not upon the conjunction, but upon the sense of the whole sentence. How, then, can the conjunction govern the Verb? It is the sense, the meaning of the whole sentence, which must govern •, and of this you will presently see clear proof. "7/" it be dark, do not come home. If eating is necessary to man, he ought not to be a glutton." In the first of these sentences, the matter expressed by the Verb may be or may not be. There exists an uncertainty on the subject. And if the sentence were filled up, it would stand thus : " If it should be dark, do not come home." But m the second sentence there exists no such uncertainty. We know, and all the world knows, that eating is necessary to man. We jould not fiU up the sentence with should; and, therefore, we make use of is. Thus, then, the conjunction if, which you see is employed in both cases, has nothing at all to do with the government of the verb. It is the sense which governs. It is worth while, however, to notice the conjunctions that are said to govern the subjunctive : though, although, unless, lest, until, till, whether, provided that, on condition that, — because, when used, they generally indicate some uncertainty. When they do not do this, then the indicative must be used. Here is an example that will illustrate this. If I were speaking of the possibilities in the future career of a young man, I .should naturally say. "Unless he be honest, he will never, though he be rich as Crcesus, be happy." But if I were speaking of a real person, who is actually rich as Crcesus, I should naturally say, ' ' Though he is rich as Croesus, he is not happy." Again : "Do not admit him, unless he has a ticket." Here we say has, because we anticipate something as fact. But, where there is a doubt, we use the subjunctive. "Do not give him the money, unless he return you the goods." "When, therefore, anything is spoken of as actual fact, or as in absolute existence, the indicative is used. Those who have studied French will remember 180 Syntax, that the French have also a number of words that govern the sub- junctive, and in many, if not most, of the cases where they use the subjunctive, we do so too. Though he be a giant ; unless he be attentive ; lest he hurt you ; provided that he pay you ; on condi- tion that he reward you ; wait until he come. The French use the subjunctive in all these cases. They also use it after certain verbs, as we do too; as, ''Be sure that he lay no hand on you; mind that he do not touch you." You have doubtless noticed this use of the subjunctive in such sentences as that of Cobbett himself in paragraph 250 : ' ' You must take care that there be a nominative, and that it be clearly expressed or understood." Some writers think that the subjunctive mode is fast passing out of use, and that it will soon be altogether obsolete. I can only say that if it do go out of use, we shall lose the means of indicating diiierent shades of meaning in the words we use. I suppose one reason why it is going out of use is because the great army of newspaper- writers know nothing of it ; they are obliged to write with such extraordinary rapidity and in such haste that they can't take time to consider fine shades or differences of meaning in the words they employ. — Notice that the difference between the indicative and the subjunctive, in all verbs except the verb to be, is simply this, that in the subjunctive the endings aee all out off. Cast your eye over the conjugations of to work and to be worked. 278. There is a great necessity for care as to this matter; for the meaning of what we write is very much affected when we make use of the modes indiscriminately. Let us take an instance. " Though her chastity be right and becoming, it gives her no claim to praise ; because she would be criminal if she loere not chaste." Now, by em- ploying the subjunctive, in the first member of the sen- tence, we leave it uncertain whether it be right or 7iot for her to be chaste ; and by eiliploying it in the second, we express a doubt as to the fact of her chastity. We mean neither of these ; and, therefore, notwithstanding here are a though and an if, both the Verbs ought to be in the indicative. " Though her chastity is right and becoming, it gives her no claim to praise; because she would be criminal if she was not chaste." Fill up with the signs. " Though her chastity maj be right ; if she should not be As Itelating to Verbs. 181 chaste ; " and then you see, at once, what a diJBference there is in the meaning. 279. The subjunctive is necessarily always used where a sign is left out; as, " Take care that he come to-morrow, that you be ready to receive him, that he be well received, and that all things be duly prepared for his entertain- ment." Fill up with the sig?is, and you wUl see the reason for what you write. 280. The Verb to be is sometimes used thus : " Were he rich, I should not like him the better. Were it not dark, I would go." That is to say, if he xoere; if it xoere. '''■It loere a jest, indeed, to consider a set of seat-sellers and seat-buyers as a lawful legislative body. It were to violate every principle of morality to consider honesty as a virtue, when not to be honest is a crime which the law punishes." The it stands for a great deal here, "Ridiculous, indeed, would the state of our minds be, if it v:iere such as to exhibit a set of seat-sellers and seat-buyers as a lawful legislative body." I mention these instances because they appear unaccountable; and I never like to slur things over. Those expressions for the using of which we cannot give a reason ought not to be used at all. There is another use of the verb to be, unnoticed by Cofibett, which may be spoken of here. It has long been a matter of con- troversy whether we should say, "the bridge is building," or "the bridge is being built;" "preparations are making," or "prepara- tions are being made." Mr. White maintains that the former is the only proper form, and that the latter form is contrary to the genius of our language. And other critics are of the same opinion. Well, there is no use in talking of it now; it is too late to alter it; for this manner of speaking is now used by almost everybody that speaks or writes English, Every newspaper in the United States uses this form; and the truth is, it has become a necessity, for there are some cases in which no other form can be used without changing the meaning of the sentence. We can say, The house is building, the book is printing, the play is acting, the bread is baking, the clothes are making, and so on, m many other instances; but we cannot say, "The boy is whipping" or "The girl la 182 Syntax, mining" to signify that "The boy is being whipped" or "The girl is being ruined." No; it is no use trying to change this now; there are certain cases where we must use "is being;" it is in the very life-blood of the language ; it is every-day English ; and there is no taking it out. It is like the word execute, which originally meant, and still properly means, to put a sentence into force ; but now it is used every day, in print and in conversation, to signify putting a person to death. And there is no doubt but it will con- tinue to be so used to the end of time ; for no dictum of the critics can change it. It is worth while remarking, that in sentences like "The house is building," "the corn is thrashing," the words building and thrashing are not verbs, but nouns ; for the original form was ' ' in building, " ' ' in thrashing. " The Germans have an entirely different verb for such expressions; for "The house is building" they say Das Haus wird gebaut, and not Das Haus ist gebaut, which latter means The house is built. 281. As to instances in which authors have violated the principles of grammar, with respect to the use of the modes, I could easily fill a book much larger than this with instances of this kind from Judge Blagkstone and Doctor Johnson. One only shall suffice. I take it from the Judge's first Book. " Therefore, if the king purchases lands of the nature of gavel-kind, where all the sons inherit equaUy; yet, upon the king's demise, his eldest son shall succeed to these lands alone^ Here is fine confusion, not to say something inclining towards high-treason ; for, if the king's son be to inherit these lands alone, he, of course, is not to inherit the crown. But it is the Verb purchases with which we have to do at present. Now, it is notorious that the king does not purchase lands in gavel-kind, or any other lands ; whereas, from the form of the Verb, it is taken for granted that he does it. It should have been, "If the king purchase lands;" that is to say, if he were to purchase, or if he should purchase. 282. Thus, my dear James, have I gone through all that appeared to me of importance relating to Verbs. Every part of the Letter ought to be carefully read, and As JRelating to Verbs. 183 its meaning ought to be well weighed in your mind ; but always recollect that, in the using of Verbs, that which reqviii'es your first and most earnest care is the ascertain- ing of the nominative of the sentence ; for, out of every hundi'ed grammatical errors, full fifty, I believe, are com- mitted for want of due attention to this matter. Let me say a word here which will make clear to you what the Germans mean by what they call genetic teaching ; that is, unfold- ing a subject in such a way as to show how it originates and grows up to completion. The shortest possible sentence must have a sub- ject and a predicate (nominative and verb); for although the one word, "Love!" is a sentence, the subject is understood: "Love thou!" Thenext step is the object: "Love thou me!" Asentence may, therefore, consist of merely subject and predicate, or of sub- ject, predicate, and object. The last is an imperative sentence ; let us take a declarative one. "Men love." This is a sentence ; it contains subject and predicate, and makes complete sense. "Men love women." This has sub- ject, predicate, and object. Now we may go on adding words, phrases, and clauses, modifying each of these chief parts of the sentence, until we stretch it out into a compound or complex sen- tence. For a sentence, like a house, is just built up by successive additions. These additions are often called adjuncts ; they consist of single words, of phrases and clauses. I shall add all I can to the separate words of this sentence; first modifying the subject by various single words, then by a phrase, then by a clause ; and then I shall endeavor to do the same to the predicate and the object. Now observe, and you will see how a sentence grows : Men love women. The men love women. The wol'thy men love women. The very worthy men love women. The very worthy menTln this cityUove Women. The very worthy men; in this city, who are noted for their excellent char- acter, love women. Here we have modified the subject, first by the definite article, then by an adjective, then we have modified the adjective by an adverb , then we have modified or limited the subject by a phrase, and finally by a clause. Now let ust try and do the same thing to the predicate and the object : 184 Syntax, as Melating to Adverbs, Men love women. Men love the women. Men love the Kood women. Men love the very good women. Men love dearly the very good women. Men love dearly the very good women of this city. Men love dearly the very good women of this city, who are respected by all the world. The whole sentence will therefore be ; " The very worthy men in this city, who are noted for tlieir excellent character, love dearly the very good women of this city, who are respected by all the world." This, therefore, has now become a complex sentence, of which the chief clause is, "Men love women," and all the rest modifies the subject, the predicate, and the object of this clause. Of course, it miglit be extended mucli farther ; but this will do to show you how a sentence grows: or, if you please, how it is built up. Should you ever be requested to give a trial lesson in English grammar, in a class of scholars who have learned some- thing of the subject, you cannot do better than show them, in this manner, how a sentence is formed. LETTER XX. SYNTAX, AS RELATING TO ADVERBS, PREPOSITIONS, AND CON- JUNCTIONS. 283. After what has been said, my dear James, on the subject of the Verb, there remains little to be added. The Adverbs, Prepositions, and Co7ijunctions, are all words which never vary their endings. Their uses have been sufficiently illustrated in the Letters on the Syntax of Nouns, Pronouns, and Verbs. In a Letter, which is yet to come, and which will contain specimens oi false grammar, the misuse of many words, belonging to these inferior Parts of Speech, will be noticed ; but it would be a waste of your time to detain you by an elaborate account of that which it is, by this time, hardly possible for you not to understand. 284. Some grammarians have given lists of Adverbs, J'repositlons, and Conjunctions. 185 Prepositions, and Conjunctions. For what reason I know not, seeing that they have not attempted to give lists of the words of other parts of speech. These lists must be defective, and, therefore, worse than no lists. To find out the meaning of single words, the Dictionary is the place. The business of grammar is to show the connection be- tween words, and the manner of using words properly. The sole cause of this dwelling upon these parts of speech appears to me to have been a notion that they would seem to be neglected, unless a certain number of pages of the book were allotted to each. To be sure each of them is a part of speech, as completely as the little finger is a part of the body ; but few persons will think that, because we descant very frequently, and at great length, upon the qualities of the head and heart, we ought to do the same with regard to the qualities of the little finger. 285. I omitted, in the Letter on Verbs, to notice the use of the word thing; and I am not sorry that I did, be- cause by my noticing it in this concluding paragraph, the matter may make a deeper impression on your mind. Thing is, of course, a rioun. A. pen is a thing, and every animal, or creature, animate or inanimate, is a thing. We apply it to the representing of every creature in the uni- verse, except to men, women, and children ; and a creature is that which has been created, be it living, like a horse, or dead, hke dirt or stones. The use of the word thing, as far as this goes, is plainly reconcilable to reason ; but "to get drunk is a beastly thing.''' Here is neither human being, irrational animal, nor inanimate creature. Here is merely an action. "Well, then, this action is the thingj for, as you have seen in Letter XIX, paragraph 273, a verb in the infinitive mode has, in almost all respects, the functions and powers of a noun. " It was a most atrocious thing to uphold the Bank of England in refusing to give gold for its promissory notes, and to compel the nation to submit to the wrong that it sustained from that refusal." 186 Syntax. The meaning is, that the whole of these measures or trans- actions constituted a most atrocious deed or thing. Cobbett despatches the syntax of adverbs in half-a-dozen lines ; and yet there is one little matter connected with the use of these words that has, perhaps, caused more uncertainty, perplexing uncertainty, than anything connected with grammar. We say, rightly, that he fights bravely and she sings finely; but shall I say that he looks bravely and that her voice sounds finely ? I may say that he dances smoothly and that she plays sweetly; but shall I say that his coat feels smoothly and that she looks sweetly? If not, how am I to know when to use the adverb and when the adjective? This, as I have said, is a matter which has puzzled many a stu- dent of grammar, and caused anxiety to many a young writer. Here is a rule which I have never seen in any grammar, but which, I think, will cover the majority of such cases, and is easily understood and remembered : After all the verbs referring to the five senses, the adjective, and not the adverb, is to be used: as. It tastes good; it smells nice; it sounds harsh; it feels smooth; it looks handsome. Expressed in a larger and more comprehensive manner, the rule might stand thus : Wherever manner is to be expressed, use the adverb; wherever quality is to be expressed, use the adjective. Cobbett repeatedly uses the expression ' ' talks fine; " meaning, of course, fine talk, and not the manner of speaking. In the same way, we must say, "I arrived here safe and sound," and not safely and soundly; for it is not the manner of arriving, but the state in which he arrived, that is meant. I thought that Cobbett explained somewhere in this grammar the diference between so and sv^h; but I cannot find it. Mr. Swinton says : ' ^So has sometimes a pronominal use ; as, ' Whether he is a genius or not, he is considered so' — (a genius)." I think this is an error; so is used adjectively and adverbially, not pro- nominally ; such is used pronominally ; as. Whether he be a genius or not, he is considered such; whether he be rich or not, he is considered so. (See paragraph 143.) /Specimens of False Grammar. 187 LETTEE XXI. specimens of false grammar, taken from the writings of doctor johnson, and from those of doctor watts. My dear James : The chief object of this Letter is to prove to you the necessity of using great care and caution in the construc- tion of your sentences. When you see writers like Dr. Johnson and Dr. Watts committing grammatical errors, and, in some instances, making their words amount to nonsense, or at least making their meaning doubtful ; when you see this in the author of a grammar and of a dictionary of the English language, and in the author of a work on the subject of logic; and when you are informed that these were two of the most learned men that England ever produced, you cannot fail to be convinced that con- stant care and caution are necessary to prevent you from committing not only similar, but much greater, errors. Another object, in the producing of these specimens, is to convince you that a knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages does not prevent men from writing bad Enghsh. Those languages are, by impostors and their dupes, called " the learned languages ; " and those who have paid for having studied them are said to have received " a liberal education." These appellations are false, and, of course, they lead to false conclusions. Learning^ as a noun, means knoioledge, and learned means knowing^ or pos- sessed of knowledge. Learning is, then, to be acquired by conception; and, it is shown va. judgment, in reasoning, and in the various modes of employing it. What, then, can learning have to do with any particular tongue! Good grammar, for instance, written in Welsh, or in the language of the Chippewa savages, is more learned than bad grammar written in Greek, The learning is ia the 188 Specimens of False Grammar. mind and not in the tongue^ learning consists of ideas and not of the noise that is made by the mouth. If, for instance, the Reports drawn up by the House of Commons, and which are compositions discovering in every sentence ignorance the most profound, were vn'itten in Latin, should we then call them learned? Should we say that the mere change of the words from one tongue into another made that learned which was before unlearned"? As well may we say that a falsehood written in English would have been truth if written in Latin ; and as well may we say that a certain handwriting is a learned hand- writing, or, that certain sorts of ink and paper are learned ink and paper, as that a language, or tongue, is a learned language or tongue. The cause of the use of this false appellation, " learned languages," is this, that those who teach them in England have, in consequence of their teaching, very large estates in house and land, which are public property, but which are now used for the sole benefit of those teachers, who are, in general, the relations or dependents of the aristoc- racy. In order to give a color of reasonableness to this species of appropriation, the languages taught by the possessors are called " the learned languages ;" and which appellation is, at the same time, intended to cause the mass of the people to believe that the professors and learners of these languages are, in point of wisdom, far superior to other men ; and to establish the opinion that all but themselves are unlearned persons. In short, the appellation, like many others, is a trick which fraud has furnished for the purpose of guarding the snug possessors of the property against the consequences of the people's understanding the matter. It is curious enough that this appellation of " learned languages" is confined to the English nation and the American, which inherits it from the English. Neither in France, in Spain, in Italy, nor in Germany, is this false Specimens of False Grammar. 189 and absurd appellation in use. The same motives have not existed in those countries. There the monks and other priests have inherited from the founders. They had not any occasion to resort to this species of imposition. But in England the thing required to be glossed over. There was something or other required in that country as an apology for taking many millions a year from the public to keep men to do no apparently useful thing. Seeing themselves unable to maintain the position that the Latin and Greek are more " learned languages " than others, the impostors and their dupes tell us that this is not what they mean. They mean, they say, not that those languages are, in them,selves, more learned than others: but that, to possess a knowledge of them is a proof that the possessor is a learned man. To be siure, they do not offer us any argument in support of this assertion ; while it would be easy to show that the assertion must, in every case, be false. But let it suffice, for this time, that we show that the possession of the knowledge of those lan- guages does not prevent men from committing numerous grammatical errors when they write in their native lan- guage. I have, for this purpose, fixed upon the writings of Doctor Johnson and of Doctor Watts ; because, besides its being well known that they were deeply skilled in Latin and Greek, it would be difficult to find two men vrith more real learning. I take also the two works for which they are respectively the most celebrated; the Rambler of Doctor Johnson, and the Logic of Doctor Watts. These are works of very great learning. The Rambler, though its general tendency is to spread a gloom over life, and to damp all enterprise, private as well as public, displays a vast fund of knowledge in the science of morals; and the Logic, though the religious zeal of its pious, sincere, and benevolent author has led him into the very great error of taking his examples of 190 Specime^is of False Grammar. self-evident propositions from amongst those, many of which great numbers of men think not to be self-evident, is a work wherein profound learning is conveyed in a style the most simple, and in a manner the most pleasing. It is impossible to believe that the Logic was not revised with great care ; and, as to the Rambler, the biographer of its author tells us that the Doctor made six thousand corrections and alterations before the work was printed in volumes. The Rambler is in Numbers; therefore, at the end of each extract from it, I shall put the letter R, and the Nttmher. The Logic is divided into Parts and Chapters. At the end of each extract from it, I shall put L ; and then add the Part and Chapter. I shall range the ex- tracts under the names of the parts of speech to which the erroneous words respectively belong. ARTICLES. " I invited her to spend the day in viewing a seat and gardens.^' — R. No. 34. "For all our speculative acquaintance with things should be made subservient to our better conduct in the civil and religious Hfe." — L. Introduction. The indefinite article a cannot, you koW]^, be put before 2i plural noun. We cannot say a gardens; but this is, ia fact, said in the above extract. It should have been " a seat and its gardens." '■^ Civil and religious life^'' in the second extract are general and indefinite. The article, therefore, was unnecessary, and is improperly used. Look back at the use of Articles, Letter IV. NOUNS. "Among the innumerable historical authors, who fill every nation with accounts of their ancestors, or under- take to transmit to futurity the events of their own time. Specimens of False Grammar. 191 the greater part, when fashion and novelty have ceased to recommend them, are of no other use than chronological inem,orials, which necessity may sometimes require to be consTilted."— E. No. 122. This is all confusion. Whose ancestors ? The nation'' s ancestors are meant ; but the author'' s are expressed. The two theirs and the thon clearly apply to the sam,e Noun. How easily all this confusion would have been avoided by considering the nation as a singular, and sayiag its ancestors ! In the latter part of the sentence, the authors are called chronological memorials ^ and though we may, in some cases, use the word author for author's work; yet, in a case like this, where we are speaking of the authors as actors., we cannot take such a liberty. " Each of these classes of the human race has desires, fears, and conversation pecuUar to itself; cares which another cannot feel, and pleasures which he cannot par- take."— E. No. 160. ' The noun of multitude, classes, being preceded by each, has the pronoun itself properly put after it ; but the he does not correspond with these. It should have been it. With regard to these two extracts, see paragraph 181. " His great ambition was to shoot flying, and he, there- fore, spent whole days in the woods, pursuing game, which, before he was near enough to see them, his ap- proach frighted away." — E. No. 66. Game is not a noun of i nultitude, like m^oh, or House of Commons. There are different games or pastimes; but this word, as applied to the describing of wild ani- mals, has no plural ; and, therefore, cannot have a plural pronoun to stand for it. "The obvious duties of piety towards God and love towards man, with the governments of all our inclinations and passions." — L. Part 4. This plui-al is so clearly wrong that I need not show why it is wrong. 192 Specmietis of False Grammar. "And by this -tnean they will better judge what to choose." — L. Part 4. Mean, as a noun, is never used in the singular. It, like some other words, has broken loose from all principle and rule. By universal acquiescence it is become always a plural, whether used with singular or plural pronouns and articles or not. Doctor Watts, in , other instances, says, this means. It is curious enough tliat we have several phu'al words like this, used in a singular manner. We not only say this means, but this nexos, this series, and this species. We say, "Great pains is taken, he has taken much pains;" because, in this sense, pains means exertion, trouble; while in the plural it means bodily pains. Mean, means, are properly used in the singular and plural when applied to the terms used in proportion. When you are speaking of various distinct things or operations, you ought to say, "By these means;" but when you are speaking of things or circumstances in a mass, you must say, "By this means.''' Such sentences as, "This is one means of gaining your end," and "The best means is by fair play," are perfectly correct. " Having delayed to buy a coach myself, till I should have the lady's opinion, for whose use it was intended." — K. No. 34. We know that whose relates to lady, according to the Doctor's meaning; but, grammatically, it does not. It relates to opinion. It should have been, " the opinion of the lady, for whose use." See Syntax of Nouns, Letter XVI, paragraphs 170, 171. PRONOUNS. " Had the opinion of my censurers been luianimous, it might have overset my resolutions ; but, since I find them at variance with each other, I can, without scruple, neg- lect them, and follow my own imagination." — R. No. 23. You see the Doctor has, in the last member of the sen- tence, the censurers in his eye, and he forgets his nomina- Specimeois of False Grammar. 193 tive, opinion. It is the ojDinion that was oiot unanimous, and not the censiirers who were not unanimous ; for they were unanimous in censuring. ^^They that frequent the chambers of the sick will gen- erally find the sharpest pains and most stubborn mala- dies among them whom confidence in the force of nature formerly betrayed to negligence or irregularity ; and that superfluity of strength, which was at once their boast and their snare, has often, to the end, no other effect than that it continues them long in impotence and anguish." — R. No. 38. The they and the first them ought to be those; the to ought to be into. The two theirs and the last the^n ar6 not absolutely faulty, but they do not clearly enough re- late to their antecedent. " Metissa brought with her an old maid, recommended by her mother, loho taught her all the arts of domestic management, and was, on every occasion, her chief agent and directress. They soon invented one reason or other to quarrel with all my servants, and either prevailed on me to tm-n them away, or treated them so ill that they left me of themselves, and always supplied their places with some brought irom my wife's family." — R. No. 35. Here is perfect confusion and pell-mell! Which of the two, the old maid or the mother, was it that taught the arts of domestic management? And which of the two was taught, Metissa or the old maid? " They soon invented." Who are they? Axe there two, or all the three? And who supplied the places of the servants? The meaning of the words clearly is that the servants themselves supplied the places. It is very rarely that we meet with so bad a sentence as this. " I shall not trouble you with a history of the strata- gems practised upon my judgment, or the allui-ements tried upon my heart, which, if you have, in any part of yovu Ufe, been acquainted with rural politics, you will 9 194 Specivxens of False Grconmar. easily conceive. Their arts have no great variety, they thhik nothing worth their care but money." — R. No. 35. " Their arts ;" but whose arts ? There is no antecedent, except ^^ rural politics f and thus, all this last sentence is perfect nonsense. " But the fear of not being approved as just copiers of human manners is not the most important concern that a,n author of this sort ought to have before him.'''' — R. No. 4. An author cannot be said to fear not to be approved as just copiers. The word author ought to have been in the plural, and him ought to have been them. " The wit, whose vivacity condemns slower tongues to silence; the scholar, whose knowledge allows no man to think he instructs him.'''' — R. No. 188. Which of the two is allowed ? The scholar or the no man ? Which of the two does he relate to ? Which of the two does the him relate to ? By a little reflection we may come at the Doctor's meaning ; but if we may stop to discover the grammatical meaning of an author's words, how are we to imbibe the science which he would teach us ? " The state of the possessor of humble virtues, to the aflfector of great excellencies, is that of a small cottage of stone, to the palace raised with ice by the Empress of Russia; it was, for a time, splendid and luminous, but the first sunshine melted it to nothing." — R. No. 22. Which, instead of it, would have made clear that which is now dubious, for it may relate to cottage as well as to palace ; or it may relate to state. We do not now say excellencies, but excellences, for the singular is excellence. Excellencies is the plural of excellency, whicli is now sel- dom used except as a title of honor. It is the same kind of error as Castlereagh's indulgencies, which you will see by-and-by. " The love of retirement has, in all ages, adhered closely to those minds which have been most enlarged by knowl- Specimens of False Grammar. 195 edge, or elevated by genius. Those who enjoyed every- thing generally supposed to confer happiness, have been forced to seek it in the shades of privacy." — R. No. 7. To seek what? The love of retirement, or everything? The Doctor means happiness, but his words do not meanit. "Those who enjoyed" ought to be "Those who have enjoyed;" because no particular time is mentioned. (See paragraph 261.) "Yet there is a certain race of men that make it then.' duty to hinder the reception of every work of learning or genius, who stand as sentinels in the avenues of fame, and value themselves upon giving ignorance and envy the first notice of a jyrey^ — R. No. 3. That, or who, may, as we have seen, be the relative of a noun, which is the name of a rational being or beings ; but both cannot be used, applicable to the same noun in the same sentence. Nor is " a prey " proper. JPrey has no plural. It is like fat, meat, grease, garbage, and many other words of that description. " For, among all the animals upon which nature has impressed deformity and horror, there was none whom he durst not encounter rather than a beetle." — R. No. 126. Here are lohom and which used as the relatives to the same noun; and, besides, we know that whom can, in no case, be a relative to irrational creatures, and, in this case, the author is speaking of such creatures only. '■'■Horror''' is not a thing that can be impressed upon another thing so as to be seen. Horror is o. feeling of the m,ind; for, though we say " horror was visible on his countenance,'''' we clearly mean that the outward signs of horror were visible. We cannot see horror as we can deformity. It should have been '•'■deform.ity and hideousness.'''' " To cull from the mass of mankind those individuals upon which the attention ought to be most employed." — R. No. 4. The antecedent belongs to rational beings, and, there- fore, the which should have been whom. l96 Specimens of liaise Grammar. " This determination led me to Metissa, the daughter of Chrisophilus, vihose person was at least without de- formity."— R. No. 35. The person of which of the two? Not of the old papa, to be sure ; and yet this is what the words mean. " To persuade them to ho are entering the world, that all are equally vicious, is not to awaken judgment." — R. No. 119. Those persons who are entering the world, and not any particular persons of whom we have already been speaking. We cannot say them persons; and, therefore, this sentence is incorrect. " Of these pretenders, it is fit to distinguish those who endeavor to deceive from them who are deceived." — R. No. 189. " I have, therefore, given a place to what may not be useless to them whose chief ambition is to please." — R. No. 34. The thems in these two sentences should be those. But '■'■them, who are deceivecV has another sort of error attached to it, for the who, remember, is not, of itself, a nominative. The antecedent, as you have seen, must be taken into view. This antecedent, must be the persons, understood ; and then we have them persons are deceived. " Reason, as to the power and principles of it, is the common gift of God to man." — L. Introduction. The it may relate to power as well as to reason. There- fore, it would have been better to say, " Reason, as to its power and principles ;" for if clearness is always neces- sary, how necessary must it be in the teaching of logic ! "All the prudence that any man exerts in his common concerns of life." — L. Introduction. Any man means, here, the same as men in general, and the concerns mean the concerns common to men in gen- eral ; and therefore the article the should have been used instead of the pronoun his. Specimens of False Grammar. 197 " It gives pain to the mind and memory, and exposes the unskillful hearer to mingle the superior and inferior particulars together ; it leads them, into a thick wood in- stead of open daylight, and places them in a labyrinth instead of a plain path." — L. Part 4, Chap 2. The (/rammar is clearly had ; and the rhetoric is not quite free from fault. Labyrinth is the opposite of plain path, but 02:'en daylight is not the opposite of a thick loood. Open plain would have been better than open daylight; for open daylight may exist along with a thick wood. VEEBS. " There are many things which we every day see others tmable to perform, and, perhaps, have even miscarried ourselves in attempting ; and yet can hardly allow to be difficult."— E. No. 122. TJhis sentence has in it one of the greatest of faults. The nominative case of can allow is not clear to us. This is a manner too elliptical. " We can hardly allow them,'"' is what was meant. "A man's eagerness to do that good, to lohich he is not called, will betray him into crimes." — E. No. 8. The man is not called to the good, but to do the good. It is not my business, at this time, to criticise the opinions of Doctor Johnson; but I cannot refrain from just re- marking upon this sentence, that it contains the sum total of passive obedience and non-resistance. It con- demns all disinterested zeal and everything worthy of the name of patriotism. " We are not compelled to toil through half a folio to be convinced that the author has broke his promise." — ^E. No. 1. "The Muses, when they sung before the throne of Jupiter."— E. No. 3. In the first of these, the past time is used where the 198 Specimens of False G-rarmnar. passive participle ought to have been used; and in the second, the passive participle is used in the place of the past time, broken and sang were the proper words. " My purpose was, after ten months more spent in com- merce, to have withdrawn my wealth to a safer country." — E. No. 120. The purpose was present, and therefore it was his pur- pose to withdraw his wealth. *'A man may, by great attention, persuade others that he really has the qualities that he presumes to boast ; but the hour will come when he should exert them, and then whatever he enjoyed xn. praise, he must suffer in reproachS — E. No. 20. Here is a complete confounding of times. Instead of should, it should be ought to; and instead of enjoyed, it should be jnay have enjoyed. The sense is bad, too ; for how can a man suffer in reproach what he has enjoyed in praise? "He had taught himself to think riches more valua- ble than nature designed them, and to expect from them "— E. No. 20. "I could prudently adventure an inseparable union.'''' — E. No. 119. "I propose to endeavor the entertainmetit of my coun- trymen." — E. No. 1. " He may, by attending the remarks, which every paper will produce." — E. No. 1. In each of these four sentences, a neuter verb has the powers of an active [transitive] verb given to it. De- signed them to bey adventure on/ endeavor to entertain/ attending ^o." To design a thing is to draw it; to attend a thing is to wait on it. No case occurs to me, at present, wherein adventure and endeavor can be active [transitive] verbs; but, at any rate, they ought not to have assumed the active office here. "J loas not condemned in my youth to solitude, either Specimens of False Grammar. 199 by indigence or deformity, nor passed the earlier part of life without the flattery of courtship." — R. No. 119. The verb cannot change from a neuter to an active without a repetition of the nominative. It should have been, nor did I pass; or, nor passed I. "Anthea ^oas content to call a. coach, and crossed the brook."— R. No. 34. It should be " she crossed the brook." "He will be welcomed with ardor, unless he destroys those recommendations by his faiilts." — R. No. 160. '■'■If he thinks his own judgment not sufficiently en- lightened, he may rectify his opinions." — R. No. 1. '■'■If he 'finds, with all his industry, and all his artifices, that he cannot deserve regai'd, or cannot obtain it, he may let the design fall."— R. No. 1. The subjunctive mode ought to be used in all these three sentences. In the first, the meaning is, "unless he should destroy." In the last two, the Doctor is speaking of his own undertaking ; and he means, " the author, if he should think, if he should find; may then rectify his opinions; may then let fall his design." He therefore should have written, "if he think; if he find." "Follow solid argument wherever it leads you." — L. Part 3. Wherever it may lead you, shall lead you, is meant; and, therefore, the subjunctive mode was necessary. It should have been, "wherever it lead you." "See, therefore, that your general definitions, or de- scriptions, are as accurate as the nature of the thing will bear ; see that your general divisions and distributions be just and exact; see that your axioms be sufficiently evi- dent; see that your principles be well drawn." — L. Part 4. All these members are correct, except the first, where the verb is put in the indicative mode instead of the sub- junctive. All the four have the same turn ; they are all in the same mode, or manner ; they should, therefore, all 200 Specimens of False Grammar. have had the verb in the sam,e form. They all required the subjunctive form. PARTICIPLES. "Or, it is the drawing a conclusion, which was before either unknown or dark." — L. Introduction. It should be "the drawing of & conclusion;" for, in this case, the active participle becomes a noun. "The act of drawing" is meant, and clearly understood; and we cannot say, " the act drawing a conclusion." When the article comes before, there must be the preposition after the participle. To omit the preposition in such "cases is an error very common, and therefore I have noticed the error in this instance, in order to put you on your guard. ADVERBS. "For thoughts are only criminal when they are first chosen, and then voluntarily continued.''' — R. N. 8. The station, or place, of the adverb is a great matter. The Doctor does not mean here that which his words mean. He means that "thoughts are criminal, only when they are first chosen and then voluntarily continued." As the words stand, they mean that "thoughts are nothing else, or nothing more, than criminal," in the case supposed. But here are other words not very properly used. I should like to be informed hov) a thought can be chosen; how that is possible; and also how we can continue a thought, or how we can discontinue a thought at our will. The science here is so very profound that we cannot see the bottom of it. Swift says, " whatever is dark is deep. Stir a puddle, and it is deeper than a well." Doctor Johnson deals too much in this kind of profundity. There is no word in our language more frequently misused than this word only. People constantly write and speak such sentences Specimens of liaise OratamaT. 201 as these ; " I have only received ten dollars. He only sells leather. He only speaks French; " and so on. The word only must be placed next to the word which it modifies : I have received only ten dollars; he sells only leather, or leather only; he speaks only French. As the sentences stand in the first instance, they 'do not mean what they are intended to mean : the first means, only received not spent or lost; the second, only sells leather, never buys any ; the third only speaks French, never writes it. " I have heard hoio some critics have been pacified with claret and a supper, and others laid asleep with the soft notes of flattery." — E. No. 1. Hoio means the maimer in which. As, '■'■How do you do?" That is, '•'•In what manner do you carry yourself on "? " But the Doctor tells us here, in other words, the precise manner in which the critics were pacified. The hoio, therefore, should have been that. "I hope not much to tu-e those whom I shall not happen to please." — E. No. 1. He did not mean that he did not m,uch hope, but that he hoped not to tire much. "I hope I shall not much tire those whom I may not happen to please." This was what he meant ; but he does not say it. "And it is a good judgment alone can dictate how/ar to proceed in it and when to stop." — L. Part 4. Doctor Watts is speaking here of writing. In such a case an adverb, like how far, expressive of longitudinal space, introduces a rhetorical Jigure; for the plain mean- ing is, that judgment will dictate how much to write on it, and not how far to proceed in it. The figure, however, is very proper, and much better than the hteral words. But when a figure is begun it should be carried on throughout, which is not the case here; for the Doctor begins with a figure of longitudinal space, and ends with a figure of time. It should have been ^'^ where to stop." Or, "how long to proceed in it and when to stop." To tell a man how far he is to go into the Western countries of America, and lohen he is to stop, is a very different 9* 202 Specimens of False G-ram^nar. thing from telling liim how far lie is to go and where he is to stop. I have dwelt thus on this distinction, for the piu'pose of putting you on the watch, and guarding you against confounding figures. The less you use them the better, till you understand more about them. "jTn searching out matters of fact in times past or in distant places, in which case moral evidence is sufficient, and moral certainty is the utmost that can be attained, here we derive a greater assurance of the truth of it by a number of persons, or multitude of circumstances, con- curring to bear witness to it.'' — L. Part 3. The adverb here is wholly unnecessary, and it does harm. But what shall we say of the of it, and the to it? What is the antecedent of the it? Is matters of fact the antecedent? Then them, and not it, should have been the pronoTin. Is evidence the antecedent? Then we have circumstances bearing witness to evidence! Is certainty the antecedent? Then we have the truth of certainty! Mind, my dear James, this sentence is taken from a treatise on logic ! How necessary it is, then, for you to be careful in the use of this powerful little word it! PKEPOSITIONS. "And, as this practice is a commodious subject of rail- lery to the gay, and of declamation to the serious, it has been ridiculed " — R. No. 123. With the gay ; for to the gay means that the raillery is addressed to the gay, which was not the author's meaning. " "When I was deliberating to what new qualifications I should aspire." — R. No. 128. With regard to, it ought to have been ; for we Cannot deliberate a thing nor to a thing. "If I am not commended for the beauty of my works, I may hope to be pardoned for their brevity." — R. No. 1. /^ecimens of l^atse Grammar. 203 We may commend him /or the beauty of his works and we may j^:>arc?o?^ himybr theii- brevity, if we deem the brevity a fault/ but this is not what he means. He means that, at any rate, he shall have the merit of brevity. "If I am not commended for the beauty of my works, I may hope to be pardoned on account of their brevity." This was what the Doctor meant; but this would have manned a little the antithesis/ it would have unsettled a little of the balance of that see- saw in which Dr. Johnson so much delighted, and which, falling into the hands of novel-writers and of Members of Parliament, has, by moving unencumbered with any of the Doctor's reason or sense, lulled so many thousands asleep! Dr. Johnson created a race of writers and speakers. "Mr. Speaker, that the state of the nation is very critical, all men must allow; but that it is wholly desperate, few men will believe." When you hear or see a sentence like this, be sure that the person who speaks or' writes it has been reading Dr. Johnson, or some of his imitators. But, ob- serve, these imitators go no fvu'ther than the frame of the sentence. They, in general, take special care not to imi- tate the Doctor in knowledge and reasoning. I have now lying on the table before me forty-eight errors, by Doctor Watts, in the use or omission of Prep- ositions. I will notice but two of them ; the first is an error of commission, the second of omission. " When we would prove the importance of any scrip- tural doctrine or duty, the multitude of texts wherein it is repeated and inculcated upon the reader seems natu- rally to instruct us that it is a matter of greater import- ance than other things which are but slightly or singly mentioned in the Bible." — L. Part 3. The words repeated and incidcated both apply to upon/ but we cannot repeat a thing upon a reader, and the words here used mean this. When several verbs or par- ticiples are joined together by a copulative conjunction, '204 Specimens of False Grammar. care must be taken that the act described by each verb, or participle, be such as can be performed by the agent, and performed, too, in the manner, or for the purpose, or on the object, designated by the other words of the sen- tence. The other instance of error in the use of the Preposi- tion occurs in the \erjjirst sentence in the Treatise on Logic. " Logic is the art of using reason well in our inquiries after truth, and the communication of it to others." — L. Introduction. The meaning of the words is this : that '-'■Logic is the art of using reason well in our inquiries after truth, and is also the communication of it to others." To be sure we do understand that it means that " Logic is the art of using reason well in our inquiries after truth, and in the communication of it to others ;" but, surely, in a case like this, no room for doubt, or for hesitation, ought to have been left. Nor is "using reason welV a well-chosen phrase. It m,ay mean treating it well ; not ill-treating it. '■'- Using reason properly or employing reason well," would have been better. For, observe. Doctor Watts ia here giving a definition of the thing of which he was about to treat; and he is speaking to persons unac- quainted with that thing ; for as to those acquainted with it, no definition was wanted. Clearness, everywhere de- sirable, was here absolutely necessary. CONJUNCTIONS. "^5, notwithstanding all that wit, or malice, or pride, or prudence, will be able to suggest, men and women must, at last, pass their lives together, I have never, there- fore, thought those writers friends to human happiness who endeavor to excite in either sex a general contempt or suspicion of the other." — R. No. 149. Specimens of False Grammar. 205 The as is unnecessary ; or the therefore is unnecessary. " But the happy historian has no other labor than of gathering what tradition pours down before him." — R. No. 122. " Some have advanced, without due attention to the consequences of this notion, that certain virtues have their correspondent faults, and therefore to exhibit either apart is to deviate from probability." — R. No. 4. "But if the power of example is so great as to take possession of the memory by a kiud of violence, care ought to be taken that, when the choice is unrestrained, the best examples only should be exhibited; and that which is likely to operate so strongly should not be mis- chievous or uncertain in its effects." — R. No. 4. It should have been, in the first of these extracts, " than that of gathering ;'' in the second, " and that therefore ;" in the third, " and that that which is likely." If the Doc- tor wished to avoid putting two thats close together, he should have chosen another form for his sentence. The that which is a relative, and the conjunction that was required to go before it. " It is, therefore, a useful thing, when we have a funda- mental truth, we use the synthetic method to explain it." — L. Part 4. It should have been that we use, or to use. WRONG PLACING OF WORDS. Of all the faults to be found in writing, this is one of the most common, and perhaps it leads to the greatest number of misconceptions. All the words may be the proper words to be used upon the occasion ; and yet, by a misplacmg of a part of them, the meaning may be wholly destroyed ; and even made to be the contrary of what it ought to be. '* I asked the question with no other intention than to 206 /Specimens of liaise Granvmar. set the gentleman free from the necessity .of silence, and give him an opportunity of mingling on equal terms with a polite assembly, from which, however uneasy^ he could not then escape, hy a kind introduction of the only sub- ject on which I believed him to be able to speak with propriety."— E. No. 126. This is a very bad sentence altogether. '■'■However un- easy,''' applies to assembly, and not to gentleman. Only observe how easily this might have been avoided. " From which he, however uneasy, could not then escape." After this we have "Ae could not then escape, hy a hind intro- ductionP We know what is meant; but the Doctor, with all his commas, leaves the sentence confused. Let us see whether we cannot make it clear. " I asked the question with no other intention than, by a kind introduction of the only subject on which I believed him to be able to speak with propriety, to set the gentleman free from the necessity of silence, and to give him an opportunity of mingling on equal terms with a polite assembly, from which he, however uneasy, could not thcD escape " " Reason is the glory of human nature, and one of the chief eminences whereby we are raised above our fellow- creatures, the brutes, in this lower world.''' — L. Introduc- tion. I have before showed an error in \h.e first sentence of Doctor Watt's work. This is the second sentence. The words, "m this lower world,''' are not words misplaced only; they are wholly unnecessary, and they do great harm; for they do these two things: first, they imply that there are brutes in the higher world; and, second, they excite a doubt, whether we are raised above those brutes. I might, my dear James, greatly extend the number of my extracts from both these authors ; but, these, I trust, are enough. I had noted down about two hundred errors in Dgctor Johnson's Lives of the Poets j but aftei'wards /Specimens of False Q-rarmnar. 207 perceiving that lie had revised and corrected the Rambler with extraordinary care, I chose to make my extracts from that work rather than from the Lives of the Poets. DOUBLE-NEGATIVE AND ELLIPSIS. Before I dismiss the specimens of bad grammar, I will just take, from Tull, a sentence »which contains striking instances of the misapplication of Negatives, and of the JEllipsis. In our language tvjo negatives applied to the same verb, or to the same words of any sort, amount to an affirmative; as, " J)o not give him none of- your money." That is to say, '■'-Give him some of your money," though the contrary is meant. It should be, "Z>o not give him any of your money." Errors, as to this matter, occur most frequently when the sentence is formed in such a manner as to lead the writer out of sight and out of sound of the first negative before he comes to the point where he thinks a second is required ; as, '■'■Neither Rich- ard nor Peter, as I have been informed, and indeed as it has been proved to me, never gave James authority to write to me." You see it ought to be ever. But in this case, as in most others, there requires nothing more than a little thought. You see clearly that two negatives, ap- plied to the same verb, destroy the negative effect of each other. "I will wo< ?^e^;e/• write." This is the contrary of "I will never write." The Ellipsis, of which I spoke in Letter XIX, paragraph 227, ought to be used with great care. Read that para- graph again ; and then attend to the following sentence of Mr. Tull, which I select in order to show you that very fine thoughts may be greatly marred by a too free use of the Ellipsis. " It is strange that no author should never have written fully of the fabric of ploughs ! Men of greatest learning have spent their time in contriving instruments to measure 208 Spechnens of False Grrammat. the immense distance of the stars, and in finding out the dimensions and even weight of the planets. They think it more eligible to study the art of ploughing the sea with ships than of tilling the land with ploughs. They bestow the utmost of their skill, learnedly to pervert the natural use of all the elements for destruction of their own species by the bloody art of war ; and some waste their whole lives in studying how to arm death with new engines of horror, and inventing an infinite variety of slaughter; but think it beneath men of learning (who only are capable of doing it) to employ their learned labors in the invention of new, or even innproving the old, instruments^or increasing of bread." You see the never ought to be ever. You see that the the is left out before the word greatest, and again before weighty and, in this last-mentioned instance, the leaving of it out makes the words mean the '■'■even weight;" that IS to say, not the odd weight ; instead of " even the weight," as the author meant. The conjunction that is left out before " of tilling f before destruction, the article the is again omitted ; in is left out before inventing, and also before improving; and, at the close, the is left out before increasing. To see so fine a sentence marred in this way is, I hope, quite enough to guard you against the frequent commission of similar errors. We often see the word alo-ne wrongly used for onl'y; as, ' ' To which 1 am not alone bound by honor, but by law ;" but Mr. Tull uses only instead of alone. He should have said, " who alone are capable of doing it." Errors and Nonsense, etc. 209 LETTER XXII. ERROES AND NONSENSE IN A KING's SPEECH. My dear James: In my first Letter, I observed to you that to the func- tions of statesmen and legislators was due the highest respect which could be shown by man to anything human ; but I, at the same time, observed that, as the degree and quality of our respect rose in proportion to the influence which the different branches of knowledge naturally had ii) the affairs and on the conditions of men, so, in cases of imperfection in knowledge, or of negligence in the appli- cation of it, or of its perversion to bad purposes, all the feelings opposite to that of respect rose in the same pro- portion ; and to one of these cases I have now to direct your attention. The speeches of the king are read by him to the Parlia- ment. They are composed by his ministers or select councillors. They are documents of great importance, treating of none but weighty matters; they are always styled Most Gracious, and are heard and answered with the most profound respect. The persons who settle upon what shall be the topics of these speeches, and who draw the speeches up, are a Lord High Chancellor, a First Lord of the Treasury, a Lord President of the Council, three Secretaries of State, a First Lord of the Admiralty, a Master General of the Ordnance, a Chancellor of the Exchequer, and perhaps one or two besides. These persons are called, when spoken of in a body, the Ministry. They are all members of the king's constitutional council, called the Privy Council, without whose assent the king can issue no proclamation nor any order affecting the people. This council, Judge Blackstone, taking the words of Coke, calls 210 Errors and Nonsense "a noble, honorable, and reverend assembly." So that, in the Ministry, who are selected from the persons who com- pose this assembly, the nation has a right to expect some- thing very near to perfection in pomt of judgment and of practical talent. How destitute of judgment and of practical talent these persons have been, in the capacity of statesmen and of legislators, the present miserable and perilous state of England amply demonstrates; and I am now about to show you that they are equally destitute in the capacity of writers. There is some poet who says, "Of all the arts in which the learn'd excel, The first in rank is that of writing well" * And though a man may possess great knowledge, as a statesman and as a legislator, without being able to per- form what this poet would call writing well; yet, stirely, we have a right to expect in a minister the capacity of being able to write gramtnatically ; the capacity of put- ting his own meaning clearly down upon paper. But, in the composing of a king's speech, it is not one man, but nine men, whose judgment and practical talent are em- ployed. A king's speech is, too, a very short piece of writing. The topics are all distinct. Very little is said upon each. There is no reasoning. It is all plain matter of fact, or of simple observation. The thing is done with all the advantages of abundant time for examination and re-examination. Each of the ministers has a copy of the speech to read, to examine, and to observe upon; and when no one has anything left to suggest in the way of alteration or improvement, the speech is agreed to, and put into the mouth of the king. Surely, therefore, if in any human effort perfection can be expected, we have a right to expect it in a king's * Of all those arts in which the wise excel, Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well. Sheffield, JEarl of BiKkingharmhire. In a King's Speech. 211 speech. You shall now see, then, what pretty stuff is put together, and delivered to the Parliament, under the name of Idng's speeches. The speech which I am about to examine is, indeed, a speech of the regent ; but I might take^ny other of these speeches. I choose this particular speech because the subjects of it are familiar in America as well as in "England, It was spoken on the 8th of November, 1814. I shall take a sentence at a time, in order to avoid confusion. '* My Lords and Gentlemen : It is with deep regret that I am again obliged to announce the continuance of his majesty's lamented indisposition." Even in this short sentence there is something equiv- ocal; for it may be that the prince's regret arises from Ms being obliged to announce, and not from the thing announced. If he had said, "With deep regret I an- nounce," or, " I announce with deep regret," there would have been nothing equivocal. And, in a composition like this, all ought to be as clear as the pebbled brook. "It would have given me great satisfaction to have been enabled to communicate to you the termination of the war between this country and the United States of America." The double compound times of the verbs, in the first part of the sentence, make the wo^ds mean that it would, before the prince came to the House, have given him great satisfaction to be enabled to communicate; whereas he meant, "It would noio have given me great satisfaction to be enabled to communicate." In the latter part of the sentence we have a little nonsense. What does termina- tion mean? It means, in this case, end or conclusion; and thus the prince wished to communicate an end to the wise men by whom he was siurounded ! To communicate is to impart to another any thing that we have in oui- possession or within our power. And so, the prince wished to impart the end to the noble lords and honorable gentlemen. He might wish to impart, or communicate 212 Errors and Nonsense tlie n&u^s, or the intelligence of the end; but he could not communicate the end itself. "What should we say, if some one were to tell us, that an officer had arrived, and brought home the termination of a battle, and carried it to Carlton House and communicated it to the prince? "We should laugh at ovu* informant's ignorance of gram- mar, though we should understand what he meant. And, shall we, then, be so partial and so unjust as to reverence in king's councillors that which we should laugh at in one of our neighbors ? To act thus would be^ my dear son, a base abandonment of our reason, which is, to use the words of Dr. Watts, the common gift of God to man. ^'■Although this war originated vnthe most unprovoked aggression on the part of the Government of the United States, and was calculated to promote the designs of the common enemy of Europe against the rights and inde- pendence of all other nations, I never have ceased to entertain a sincere desire to bring it to a conclusion on just and honorable terms^ The the most would lead us to suppose that there had been m.ore than one aggression, and that the war origi- nated in the most unprovoked of them; whereas the prince's meaning was that the aggression was an unpro- voked one, unprovoked in the superlative degree; and that, therefore, it was a most unprovoked aggression. The words all other iiations may mean all nations except England; or, all nations out of Europe; or, all nations other than the United States; or, all nations except the enemy's own nation. Guess you which of these is the meaning ; I confess that I am wholly unable to determine the question. But, what does the close of the sentence mean when taken into view with the although at the beginning? Does the prince mean that he would be justified in wanting to make peace on unjust and dis- honorable terms because the enemy had been the ag- gressor? He might, indeed, wish to make it on terms In a King's Speech. 213 dishonorable, and even disgraceful, to tlie enemy; but could he possibly wish to make it on unjust tei'ms ? Does he mean that an aggression, however wicked and unpro- voked, would give him a right to do injustice? Yet, if he do not mean this, what does he mean"? Perhaps (for there is no certainty) he may mean that he wishes to bring the war to a conclusion as soon as he can get just and honorable terms from the eneviy; but, then, what is he to do with the although? Let us try this: "I am ready," say you, "to make peace, if you will give me just terms, although you are the aggressor.''' To be sure you ai'e, whether I he the aggressor or not! All that you can possibly have the face to ask of me v& justice; and, there- fore, why do you connect your wish for peace with this although? Either you mean that my aggression gives you a right to demand of me more than justice, or you talk nooisense. Nor must, we overlook the word ^'■govern- ment," which is introduced here. In the sentence before, the prmce wished to communicate the end of the war between '■'■this country and the United States;''' but in this sentence we are at war with "the G-overnment of the United States." This was a poor trick of sophistry, and as such we will let it pass; only observing that such low trickery is not very becoming in men selected from " a nohle, honorable, and reverend assembly." "I am still engaged in negotiations for this piirpose." That is, the purpose of bringing the war to a conclusion. A very good purpose; but why still? He had not told his nobles and his boroughmen that he had been engaged in negotiations. Even this short, simple sentence could not be made without fault. "The success of them must, however, depend on my disposition being met with corresponding sentim,ents on the part of the enemy." Now, suppose I were to say, "My wagon was met with Mr. Tredw ell's coach." Would you not think that some- 214 Errors and Nonsense body had met the wagon and coach, both going together the same way? To be sure you would. But if I were to say, "My wagon was met by Mr. Tredwell's coach," you would think that they had approached each other from different spots. And, therefore, the prince should have said, "met by.''' This sentence, however, short as it hap- pily is, is too long to be content with one error. Dispo- sition, in this sense of the word, means state, or bent, or temper, of mind; and the word sentiments means thoughts, or opinions. So, here we have a temper of mind met by thoughts. Thoughts may correspond or agree with a tem- per of mind ; but how are they to 7}\eet it? If the prince had said, " My disposition being met by a corresponding disposition on the part of the enemy," he would have uttered plain and dignified language. "The operations of his majesty's forces by sea and land in the Chesapeake, in the course of the present year, have been attended with most brilliant and successful results." Were there only the bad placing of the different mem- bers of this sentence, the fault would be sufficient. But we do not know whether the prince means operations by sea and land, or forces by sea and land. It seems to me there is another error here. The prince speaks of operations of "forces by sea and land in the Cliesapeake." The Chesapeake is a bay. How can there be operations of forces by land in the Chesapeake? Does he mean the operations of the forces when they got to the bottom of the bay ? "The flotilla of the enemy in the Patuxent has been destroyed. The signal defeat of their land forces enabled a detachment of his majesty's army to take possession of the city of Washington ; and the spirit of enterprise, which has characterized all the movements in this quarter, has produced on the inhabitants a deep and sensible impres- sion of the calamities of a war in which they have been so wantonly involved." In a King's Speech. 215 Enemy is not a noun of multitude, like gang or House of Commons, or den of thieves; and, therefore, when used in the singular, must have singular pronouns and verbs to agree with it. Their, in the second of these sentences, should have been his. A sensible impression is an impres- sion felt; a deep impression is one more felt. Therefore it was "a sensible and deep impression." But, indeed, sensible had no business there ; for an impression that is deep must be sensible. What would you think of a man who should say, " I have not only been stabbed, but my skin has been cut .^" Why, you would think, to be sure, that he must be a man selected from the noble, honorable, and reverend assembly at Whitehall ! " The expedition directed from Halifax to the northern coast of the United States has terminated in a manner not less satisfactory.'^ Than vihatf The prince has told us, before this, of nothing that has terminated satisfactorily. He has talked of a brilliant result, and of an impression made on the inhabitants; but of no termination has he talked; nor has he said a word about satisfaction. We must always take care how we use, in one sentence, words which refer to anything said in former sentences. " The successful course of this operation has been fol- lowed by the immediate submission of the extensive and important district east of the Penobscot river to his maj- esty's arms.'''' This sentence is a disgrace even to a ministry with a Jenkinson at its head. What do they mean by a course being followed by a ■ submission f And then, " has been followed by the immediate submission?" One would think that some French emigrant priest was employed to vsrrite this speech. He, indeed, would say, "« We suivie par la soumission immediate." But when we make use of any word like immediate, which carries us back to the time and scene of action, we must use the past tim,e of 216 On Putting Sentences Together, the verb, and say, '■'■^oas followed by the immediate sub- mission." That is to say, was then followed by the then immediate ; and not has now been followed by the then immediate submission. The close of this sentence exhibits a fine instance of want of skill in the placing of the parts of a sentence. Could these noble and reverend persons find no place but the e7id for "io his ■majesty'' s armsT'' There was, but they could not see it, a place made on purpose, after the word submission. It is unnecessary, my dear James, for me to proceed further with an exposui^e of the bad grammar and the nonsense of this speech. There is not, in the whole speech, one single sentence that is free from error. Nor will you be at all surprised at this, if ever you should hear those persons uttering their oic7i speeches in those places which, when you were a naughty little boy, you used to call the '■'■Thieves'' Houses.'''' If you should ever hear them there, stammering and repeating and putting forth their nonsense, your wonder will be, not that they wrote a king's speech so badly, but that they contrived to put upon paper sentences sufficiently grammatical to en- able us to guess at the meaning. LETTEE XXIII. on putting sentences togethee, and on figurative language. My dear James: I have now done with the subject of grammar, which, as you know, teaches us to use vjords in a proper manner. But though you now, I hope, understand how to avoid error in the forming of sentences, I think it right not to conclude my instructions without saying a few words upon the subject of adding sentence to sentence, and on the subject of figurative language. and on Figurative Language. 217 Language is made use of for one of three pui'poses ; namely, to inform, to convince, or to persuade. The first, requiring merely the talent of telling what we know, is a matter of little difficulty. The second demands rea- soning. The thii'd, besides reasoning, demands all the aid that we can obtain from the use of figures of speech, or, as they are sometimes called, figures of rhetoric, which last word means the power of persuasion. Whatever may be the pm-pose for which we use lan- guage, it seldom can happen that we do not stand in need of more than one sentence; and, therefore, others must be added. Thei'e is no precise 7'ide; there can be no precise rule, with regard to the manner of doing this. When we have said one thing, we must add another ; and so on, until we have said all that we have to say. But we ought to take care, and great care, that if any words in a sentence relate, in any way, to words that have gone be- fore, we make these words correspond grammatically with those foregoing words ; an instance of the want of which care you have seen in paragraph 178. The order of the matter Avill be, in almost all cases, that of your thoughts. Sit down to write what you have thought, and not to think what you shall lorite. Use the first words that occur to you, and never attempt to alter a thought; for that which has come of itself into your mind is likely to pass into that of another more readily and with more efi"ect than anything which you can, by reflection, invent. Never stop to 7nake choice of words. Put down your thought in words just as they come. Follow the order which your thought will point out ; and it will push you on to get it upon the paper as quickly and as clearly as possible. Thoughts come much faster than we can put them upon paper. They produce one another : and the order of their coming is, in almost every case, the best possible 10 218 On Putting Sentences Together^ order that they can have on paper; yet, if you have several in your mind, rising above each other in point of force, the most forcible will natm'ally come the last upon paper. Mr. Lindley Mxirray gives rules about long sentences and short sentences, and about a due mixture of long and short ; and he also gives rules about the letter's that sen- tences should begin with, and the syllables that they should end with. Such rules might be very well if we were to sing our writing; but when the use of writing is to inform, to convince, or to persuade, what can it have to do with such rules % There are certain connecting words which it is of im- portance to use properly ; such as therefore, which means for that cause, for that reason. We must take care, when we use such words, that there is occasion for using them. We must take care that when we use but, or for, or any other connecting word, the sense of our sentences requires such word to be used; for, if such words be im- properly used, they throw all into confusion. You have seen the shameful effect of an although in the king's speech, which I noticed in my last Letter. The adverbs when, then, while, now, there, and some others, are con- necting words, and not used in their strictly literal sense. For example: " Well, «Ae?^ I will not do it." 7%e?^, in its literal sense, means, at that time, or in that time, as, " I was in America then.'''' But "Well, theii^'' means, "Well, if that be so^'' or '•'■let that be so,'''' or "m that case.''' You have only to accustom yoxu^self a little to reflect on the meaning of these words; for that will soon teach you never to employ them improperly. A writmg, or written discourse, is generally broken into paragraphs. When a new paragraph should begin, the nature of your thoughts must tell you. The propriety of it will be pointed out to you by the difference between the thoughts that are coming and those which have gone and on Figurative Language. 219 before. It is impossible to frame rules for regulating such divisions. When a man divides his vs^ork into Pai'ts, Books, Chapters, and Sections, he makes the division according to that which the matter has taken in his mind ; and, when he comes to write, he has no other guide for the distribution of his matter into sentences and para- graphs. Never write about any tnatter that you do not viell understand. If you clearly understand all about your matter, you will never want thoughts, and thoughts instantly become words. One of the greatest of all faults in writing and in speak- ing is this : the using of many Avords to say little. In order to guard yourself against this fault, inquire what is the substance or amount of what you have said. Take a long speech of some talking lord, and put down upon paper what the amount of it is. You will most likely find that the amount is very small ; but, at any rate, when you get it, you will then be able to examine it, and to tell what it is worth. A very few examinations of this sort will so frighten you, that you will be forever after upon your guard against talking a great deal and saying little. Figurative language is very fine when properly em- ployed; but figures of rhetoric are edge-tools, and two- edged tools, too. Take care how you touch them ! They are called figures, because they represent other things than the words in their literal meaning stand for. For instance: "The tyrants oppress and starve the people. The people would live amidst abundance, if those cormo- rants did not devour the fruit of their labor." I shall only observe to you, upon this subject, that, if you use figiu-es of rhetoric, you ought to take care that they do not make nonsense of what you say; nor excite the ridi- cule of those to whom you write. Mr. Murray, in an address to his students, tells them " that he is about to offer them some advice with regard to their future walks 220 Oil Putting Sentences Together, ' in the paths of literature." Now, though a man may take a walk along a path, a walk means also the ground laid out in a certain shape, and such a walk is wider than a path. He, in another part of this address, tells them that they are in the morning of life, and that that is the season for exertion. The morning, my dear James, is not a season. The year, indeed, has seasons, but the day has none. If he had said the spring of life, then he might have added the season of exertion. I told you they were edge-tools. Beware of them. 1 am now, my dear son, arrived at the last paragraph of my treatise, and I hope that, when you arrive at it, you will understand grammar sufficiently to enable you to write without committing frequent and glaiing errors. I shall now leave you, for about four months, to read and write English ; to practise what you have now been taught. At the end of those four months I shall have prepared a Grammar to teach you the French language, which lan- guage I hope to hear you speak, and to see you write well, at the end of one year from this' time. With English and French on your tongue and in your pen, you have a resource not only greatly valuable in itself, but a resource that you can be deprived of by none of those changes and chances which deprive men of pecuniary possessions, and which, in some cases, make the purse-proud man of yes- terday the crawling sycophant to-day. Health, without which life is not worth having, you will hardly fail to secure by early rising, exercise, sobriety, and abstemious- ness as to food. Happiness, or misery, is in the mind. It is the mind that lives ; and the length of life ought to be measui^ed by the number and importance of our ideas, and not by the number of our days. Never, therefore, esteem men merely on account of their riches or their station. Respect goodness, find it where you may. Honor talent wherever you behold it unassociated with vice-, but honor it most when accompanied with exertion, and on figurative Language. 221 and especially when exerted in the cause of truth aaid justice ; and, above all things, hold it in honor when it steps forward to protect defenceless innocence against the attacks of powerful guilt. It is true that figures are edge-tools; but even edge-tools are perfectly safe in the hands of those who know how to use them. And with a little care and attention, anybody of common under- standing may learn how to use the ordinary figures of rhetoric, which are powerful auxiliaries in rendering speech effective. There is nothing that impresses like figures. They are edge-tools in another sense ; for they cut like swords and wound like daggers. Daniel O'Connell once silenced a troublesome opponent by sud- denly turning on him and exclaiming : "Sit down, you pestiferous ramcat ! " Lord Chatham finely designates the corrupt govern- ment contractor and jobber as "that blood-sucker, that muck- worm that calls himself 'the friend of government.'" "One should never take a vacation till the sexton gives him one,''' is far more forcible than "One should never cease working till death." Instead of saying that one must not express high, noble thoughts before low, vulgar people, how much more expressive it is to say, * ' Do not cast pearls before swine." "When Daniel Webster said of Alexander Hamilton, " He smote the rock of the national resources, and abundant streams of revenue burst forth; he touched the dead corpse of public credit, and it sprang upon its feet I" he uttered something far more impressive, far more forcible and beautiful, than if he had merely declared that Hamilton had improved the finances and strengthened the public credit of the coim.try. Everybody, the most illiterate as well as the most learned, uses figures. The illiterate man uses them unconsciously ; and so does the learned man in the ardor of speech ; in fact, most people use them, and ought to use them, unconsciously ; that is, without thinking that they are using figures. When a person exclaims, on seeing a large, fat man coming along, "Here comes Jumbo!" he never thinks that he is using a figure; and I have no doubt that even Cobbett himself, when he said that figures are edge-tools, never suspected that he was using a figure Our greatest writers, especially the poets, are full of figures. Shakes- peare bristles with them ; his works have more figures, and more happily-used figures, than perhaps those of any other author. In Macbeth alone there are figures of almost every description. Just count the figures in the murder scene and in the interview between 222 0)1 Putting Sentences TogetJitv^ Macbeth and his wife after the murder, and you will be amazed at their number and variety. Of course, I do not pretend, in these few words at the end of the book, to teach you all about figures of rhetoric ; but I wish to give you an idea of what they are, that you may not be entirely ignorant of the matter. Though rhetoricians give names to a great number of deviations from the ordinary mode of expression, there are just about a dozen figures of rhetoric whose nature and use are worth studying. The others are common turnings and windings in language, in which nobody ever makes a mistake ; but which, closely regarded, are made out to be figures, and dubbed with hard Greek names, the knowledge of which is of no possible use. Hence Butler's famous couplet , " For all a rhetorician's rules Teach nothing but to name his tools." Of these dozen figures, the most common are the metaphor and the SIMILE. Definitions are hard, and sometimes very unsatisfac- tory; but when I say that the sentence " Doctor Johnson was a gnarled oak" contains a metaphor, and that the sentence "Doctor Johnson was like a gnarled oak " contains a simile, you will see at once what both are. "He is a lion," contains a metaphor; " he is like a lion " contains a simile. The metaphor is sometimes called an abridged simile, for it is putting one thing for another which it resembles, instead of saying it is like it. The simile is always introduced by the words like, or so, or words of similar import. "Charity, like the sun, brightens all it shines upon. A metaphor, like a beam of light, brightens and enlivens its object whenever it is used." When somebody cried out at the battle of Quebec, "They fly! they fly!" and General Wolff asked, "Who fly?" both used a figure; for men can only flee, not fly. When a little boy calls out, ' ' Look at that frog ! I will let this stone fly at hisliead!" he uses a figure; so that, long before he knows what metaphors are, he learns to use them rightly enough. Look at Coleridge's sentences about Cobbett, on page 210 of the Life, and you will find quite a number of metaphors. There is another figure, called metonymy, which looks, at first sight, like the metaphor; but which, on closer inspection, will be found to be essentially different. While the metaphor is really a departure from the ordinary form of speech, metonjrmy, which is termed a change of names, is one of the most ordinary expressions. "The kettle boils; the lamp burns; he smokes his pipe." Now, is and on 'Figurative Language. 223 it the kettle that boils, or the \i3ater in it? the lamip that burns, or the oil? We use these expressions without ever thinking that we are using figurative language , for it is not a departure from the ordinary form of speech; it is everyday speech, everyday and common language. But, when we say, "Experience is the lamp by which my feet are guided;" or "We shall never liglit the pipe of peace until our rights are restored ; " or " This was the rock on which he split;" the language rises at once in force and impress- iveness, and we feel that there is a deviation from the common mode of expression. The former is metonymy, and the latter metaphor. "He is fond of his bottle; he drank three glasses; he keeps a good table ;" these, you see, are merely a change of names. ' ' The gin-palace is the recruiting-shop for the penitentiary ; Senator Conkling sawed oif the limb on which he sat ; the politicians are hungry for ofiice, for they have been fasting for twenty years;" these are metaphors, and you see they convey a picture to the mind which no other words can convey so well. An ALLEGORY is a sort of continued metaphor, by which an imaginary history with a veiled meaning may be told. Macaulay says Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress is the finest allegory which has been produced in two thousand years. For another fine example, see 80th Psalm. Peesonification is the giving of life to inanimate things, or the giving of speech and reason to objects, insects, and animals, as in fables. Cobbett's story of the quarrel in the pot-shop has good examples of this figure. To personify is to speak, for instance, of winter and war as of a man ; of spring and peace as of a woman. " Lo! steel-clad War his gorgeous standard rears!" " How sleep the brave, who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest 1 When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Keturns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod." There is another form of personification, a lower form, in which we give the qualities of beings to inanimate objects : we sometimes speak of a raging storm, a cruel disease, a remorseless sword, a scornful lip, a dying lamp, the smiling harvest, the thirsty ground, & fearless pen, the babbling brook. Synecdoche is taking a part for the whole, or the whole for a part; as, He has a keen eye; he has seen eighty winters; all the world runs after him. Inteebogation is asking a question which does not need aa 224 On Putting Sentences Together, answer ; as, Can any man count the stars ? Will not the Judge of all the earth do right ? This is a favorite figure in oratory. Exclamation Is the uttering of some expression of surprise, or o£ some emotion of the mind; as. What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason ! how infinite in faculties! Woxild that some good angel had put Cobbett's grammar into that boy's hands ! Ikony is saying the opposite of what one means; as, Cobbett was remarkable for his meekness and humility ! John Bull's Ad- dress to Brother Jonathan (par. 214) is a good example. See also page 193 of the Life. Here is another example : " So goes the world ;— if wealthy, you may call This, friend ; that, brother ;— friends and brothers all. Though you are worthless, witless ; never mind it : You may have been a stable-boy— what then? 'Tis wealth, good sir, makes Jwnorable men.'''' Antithesis is the comparing or placing in contrast of opposite qualities ; as, Though poor, yet proud ; though submissive, gay. The prodigal robs his heir, the miser robs himself. Antithesis is closely allied to epigram, which is a short, pithy saying; as. When you have nothing to say, say it. Wendell Phillips is noted for his epigrammatic style. Hyperbole is some extravagant expression, employed to heighten the impression conveyed. Macbeth says that the great ocean will not wash his hand clean from the blood-stains on it, but that his hand will rather incarnadine the great ocean ; while Lady Macbeth says that "all the sweets of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand." Antony's declaration that if he were an orator like Brutus, he would "make the stones of Rome rise in mutiny," is another good example. " Rivers of waters run down mine eyes," IS the Psalmist's fine figure. Apostrophe is a sudden turning off from the subject of dis- course to address some absent or dead person or thing as present. When the news of Lord Byron's death came to England, John Jay, the famous preacher, spoke of him and his works in his pulpit; then he suddenly turned and addressed him as if he were present : "O Byron, liadst thou listened to the words of soberness and truth; hadst thou followed the counsels of the wise and good; hadst thou repressed thy passions, formed nobler aims and pursued a nobler ideal of life, what a different tale we would have had to tell ! what a different example, for all generations, thy life would have afforded!" His apostrophe was something like this; it is twenty-five years since I read it , I give it as I remember it ; I and on Figurative Language. 225 only knoAV it made a deep impression on me at the time. And Byron himself, in his wonderful Childe Harold, gives us perhaps the fines't apostrophe in our language. He is speaking of the ocean, when he suddenly turns and addresses it in those noble lines beginning : '° KoU on, thou deep and dark blue ocean— roll 1 Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. Man marks the earth with ruin— his control Stops with the shore." Climax is rising from one point to another till the highest is reached, or descending from one point to another till the lowest is reached. I have read somewhere this capital example, which is said to be from a sermon on Christian progress by a negro preacher : "If you cannot fly, run ; if you cannot run, walk ; if you cannot walk, crawl ; if you cannot crawl, worm it along!" Alliteration is the repeating of the same letter at the beginning of each of two or more words in the same line or sentence. One of the characters in Shakespeare's Henry VIII speaks thus of Cardinal Woolsey : " Begot of butchers and by butchers bred, How high his highness holds his haughty head." Besides these, there are figures of etymology and figures of SYNTAX. The former are hardly worth mentioning, being simply such changes in words as o'er for over, tho' for though, 'gainst for against, ^tis for it is, withouten for without, enchain for chain, and a few similar ones, all of which are called by the hardest of Greek names. These figures are simply deviations from the usual orthog- raphy of words, and are sometimes called figures of orthography. The figures of syntax are four in number: ellipsis, pleonasm, ENALLAGE, and HYPEEBATON. The first, which has already been explained, consists, you will remember, in leaving understood some word or words; as, "This is the man I mean," instead of "whom I mean." Pleonasm is the opposite of this; that is, the using of superfluous words ; and the most common example of it is in the use of the word got. "What have you got? I have got a book; you have got a horse." These ^'f^s may all be left out. The Bible is fuU of this figure, as indeed of all figures ; as, "There shall not be left one stone upon another that shall not be thrown down. Oh ye inhabitants of the world, and dwellers on the earth ! " Enallage may be said to be the name given to the grammatical mistakes which the poets are allowed to make, on account of the shackles in which they are obliged to walk. In Leigh Hunt's poem, " The Glove and the Lions," occur these lines; 10* 22G 0)1 Putting Sentences Together, " De Lorge's love o'erheard the king, a beauteous, lively dame, With dark bright eyes, which always seemed the same." Now, according to the rules of grammar, these lines declare that the king was a beauteous, lively dame ; but the poet Was obliged to write thus for the sake of the rhyme. This is called enallage. Milton's "Beelzebub than whom" may also be called enallage. Hyperbaton is somewhat similar to inversion, which latter con- sists in placing the predicate or the object before the subject; as. In came the king ; down fell the supplicant ; him I adore. Inver- sion is used to give force and emphasis to an expression; but hyperbaton is simply the transposition of a word or words for the sake of the measure; as, "While its song rolls the woods along," instead of "While its song rolls along the woods." There is no better example of an awkward blunder in the use of figures than that of the man who prayed that " the word which had been preached might be like a nail driven in a sure place, sending its roots downward and its branches upward, spreading itself like a green bay-tree, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners ! " A wonderful nail, indeed, this would be. Lord Cockburn, in his Memoirs, tells of a man who, on being asked at a public dinner to give a toast, exclaimed : ' ' Here's to the moon, shining on the calm bosom of a lake ! " The man thought, no doubt, that he was saying something figurative and fine. Franklin, in a toast he gave at a diplomatic dinner at Versailles, made use of the sun and moon in a very different manner. The British minister began with : ' ' George III, who, like the sun in his meridian, spreads a luster throughout and enlightens the world. " The French minister followed with : "Louis XVI, who, like the moon, sheds his mild and benignant rays on and influences the globe." Then our American Franklin gave : ' ' George Washington, commander of the American army, who, like Joshua of old, commanded the sun and the moon to stand still, and they obeyed him ! " Never were simile and meta- phor more happily combined. I cannot help thinking that, when Cobbett called figures double- edged tools, he had in mind the mischief which some of his own figures had played with himself on certain occasions. His likening of Doctor Rush to Doctor Sangrado cost him $5,000 ; his declara- tion that the appointment of Lord Hardwicke to the vice-royalty of Ireland was ' ' putting the surgeon's apprentice to bleeding the hos- pital patients," cost him £500 ; and his comparison of Castlereagh's discipline of British troops to Napoleon's discipline of his con- scripts, cost him £1,000 and an imprisonment of two years. Dog- and on Figurative JLanguage. 227 berry found comparisons "odorous;" Cobbett found them very expensive and very injm-ious. Defoe's figures served Mm even still worse ; for his sarcastic irony in " The Shortest Way with the Dis- senters" cost liim his ears, exposure in the pillory, and the loss of his liberty for two years. The remorseless metaphor which Brougham applied to Canning, that he was guilty of the "most monstrous tergiversation [shuffling, shifting, twisting, turning] for office," caused that statesman, it is said, to take to his bed, and never to rise from it. VERSIFICATION. Now comes that mysterious matter, which I promised, at the beginning of the book, to give you an account of, versification. I said it is a simple matter ; so it is ; and yet many persons look upon it as something very complicated, far too difficult for com- mon people to learn, and never studied by anybody but poets. Verse is of two kinds, rhyme and blank verse. Rhyme con- sists of measured lines, every two of which ending with words or syllables of a similar sound; blank verse consists of lines with measure but no rhyme. Shakespeare's tragedies and Milton's Paradise Lost are in blank verse ; Butler's Hudibras and Pope's translation of the Iliad — indeed almost all Pope's poems — are in rhyme. Blank verse gives the poet much more freedom and ease in the expression of his thoughts than rhyme ; consequently our noblest poetry is in this form. Although there are many kinds of measure or meter, there are rarely to be found in English poetry more than four kinds. These four are: the iambic, trochaic, anapestic, and dactylic measures; all hard names, but meaning easy things. Now, what makes these measures easy to learn is, that they go in pairs, and each one in each pair is the contrary or the opposite of the other. Each line of poetry consists of a certain number of feet — and you may have them from one foot up to ten feet — and each foot consists of either two or three syllables. A foot in iambic measure is called an iambus ; in trochaic measure, a trochee ; in anapestic measure, an anapest; in dactylic measure, a dactyl. Now the iambus and the trochee are feet of two syllables, and the anapest and the dactyl are feet of three syllables. The two syllables of the iambus are short-long ; as, re-call', at-tend'. The two syllables of the trochee are long-short; as, ho'-ly, cy'-press. Therefore you see that the one is the opposite of the other. Counting the feet in a line of poetry, or pausing after each foot as you go along, is S28 On Putting Sentences Together., called scanning. Now scan me the foUcJwing verse, and tell me whether it is in iambic or trochaic measure : The cur | few tolls | the knell | of part | ing day ; The low I ing herd | winds slow | ly o'er | the lea ; The plough | man home | ward plods | his wea | ry way, And leaves | the world | to dark | ness and | to me. Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Now tell me if the following stanza is in the same measure • Once up I on a I mid-night 1 drea-ry, While 1 1 pon-der'd | weak and | wea-ry, O-ver I many a | quaint and | cu-rious | vol-ume Of for 1 got-ten | lore, While 1 1 nod-ded | near-ly | nap-ping, Sud-den | ly there I came a | tap-ping, As of I some one | gent-ly | rap-ping, Rap-ping | at my | cham-ber | door.— Poe's Haven, You see that in the first stanza the tone falls always on the second syllable, while in the second the tone falls always on the first. The first stanza, therefore, is in the iambic measure, and the second in the trochaic. Now the other two measures are also opposites. Mark the fol- lowing verse, and tell me whether it is made up of short-short-long feet (anapestic), or long-short-short feet (dactylic) : The As-syr | ian came down | like the wolf | on the fold. And his co | horts were gleam | ing in pur | pie and gold ; And the sheen | of their spears | was like stars | on the sea When the blue | wave rolls night | ly on deep | Ga-li-lee. Byron's Destruction of Sennacherib. Now observe that the feet in the following verse are the opposite or the reverse of the preceding : Bird of the | wil-der-ness. Blithe-some and | cum-ber-less. Sweet be thy | ma-tin o'er | moor-land and | lea 1 Em-blem of | hap-pi-ness. Blest is thy | dwell-ing place— Oh to a I bide in the | des-ert with | thee I The Lark, by James Hogg. The first of these last two stanzas is, therefore, in anapestic measure, and the second in dactylic. So that the foiu* verses represent the iambic, the trochaic, the anapestic, and the dactylic measure; and you should learn all foiir by heart, as a guide in enabling you to determine the measure of other poems. Some- thing that will help you to remember the dactylic measure is the derivation of the word dactyl, which is a Greek word signifying and on Figurative Language. 229 finger. Now look at your forefinger, and see if it does not con- sist of one long joint and two short ones (cum'ber-less). So that I may say — although it sounds like an Irish hull — that this, foot is so called because it is like & finger. Of all the poems in the English language, nine out of ten are in the iambic measure, which is no doubt because that measure is most suited to the nature of our language. Poor Lord Surrey — who seems to have been a noble, chivalric character, something like Sidney; beheaded in the flower of his age by the brutal Henry VIII. — was the first to write in this measure. Nearly all our dramatic and epic poetry, in fact nearly all our great poems, are in this measure. All Shakespeare's blank- verse plays, Milton's Paradise Lost, Pope's Homer, Spenser's Faery Queene, Butler's Hudibras, and Bryant's Thanatopsis are in iambic measure. There is only one thing more to be said, and that is, that you will some- times find a mixture of these various measures in one and the same poem ; but some one measure is, however, usually so predominant as to give a character to the verse. Verse means poetry in gen- eral, but one single line of poetry is also called a verse. 230 Six Lessons. THE SIX LESSONS. LETTEK XXIV. SIX LESSONS, INTENDED TO PEEVENT STATESMEN FKOM USING FALSE GEAMMAK, AND FEOM WEITING IN AN AWKWAED MANNER. Harpenden, Hertfordshire, June 23, 1822. My deae James: In my first Letter, I observed that it was of the great- est importance that statesmen, above all others, should be able to write well. It happens, however, but too fre- quently, that that which should be, in this case as well as in others, is not ; sufficient proof of which you will find in the remarks which I am now about to make. The Letter to Tierney — a thing which I foresaw would become of great and lasting importance ; a thing to which I knew I should frequently have to recur with satisfaction — I wrote on the anniversary of the day on which, in the year 1810, I was sentenced to be imprisoned for two years, to pay a fine of a thousand pounds, and to be held in bonds of five thousand pounds for seven years, for having pub- licly, and in print, expressed my indignation at the flog- ging of English local-militia men in the town of Ely, under a guard of German soldiers. I thought of this at a time when I saw those events approaching which I was certain would, by fulfilling my predictions, bring me a compensation for the unmerited sufferings and insults heaped upon me with so unsparing a hand. For writing the present little work, I select the anniversary of a day which your excellent conduct makes me regard as amongst the most blessed in the calendar. Who, but myself, can imagine what I felt when I left you behind me at New Introduction. 231 York! Let this teJl my persecutors that you have made me more than amends for all the losses, all the fatigue, all the dangers, and all the anxieties attending that exile of which their baseness and injustice were the cause. The bad writing, on which I am about to remark, I do not pretend to look on as the cause of the present public calamities, or of any part of them ; but it is a proof of a deficiency in that sort of talent which appears to me to be necessary in men intrusted with great affairs. He who writes badly thinks badly. Confusedness in words can proceed from nothing but confusedness in the thoughts which give rise to them. These things may be of trifling importance when the actors move in private life; but when the happiness of millions of men is at stake, they ai'e of an importance not easily to be described. The pieces of wiitiag that I am about to comment on I deem bad writing; and, as you will see, the writmg may be bad, though there may be no grammatical error in it. The best writing is that which is best calculated to secure the object of the Avriter; and the worst, that which is the least likely to effect that purpose. But it is not in this extended sense of the words that I am now going to con- sider any writing. I am merely about to give specimens of badly- written papers, as a warning to the statesmen of the present day ; and as proofs, in addition to those which you have akeady seen, that we ought not to conclude that a man has great abilities merely because he receives great sums of the pubhc money. The specimens, that I shall give, consist of papers that relate to measures and events of the very first importance. The first is the speech of the Speaker of the House of Commons to the regent, at the close of the first session of 1819, during which Mr. Peel's, or the Cash-Payment, Bill had been passed; the second is the answer of the regent to that speech ; the first is the work of the House ; the second that of the ministry. 232 Six Lessons. In Letter XII, I gave the reasons why we had a right to expect perfection in writings of this description. I there described the persons to whom the business of writing king's speeches belongs. The Speaker of the House of Commons is to be taken as the man of the greatest talent in that House. He is called the "First Commoner of England." Figure to yourself, then, the king on his throne, in the House of Lords; the lords standing in their robes; the Commons coming to the bar, with the Speaker at their head, gorgeously attired, with the mace held beside him; figure this scene to yourself, and you Avill almost think it sedition and blasphemy to suppose it possible that the speech made to the king, or. that his majesty's answer, both prepared and written down long beforehand, should be anything short of perfection. Follow me, then, my dear son, through this Letter ; and you will see that we are not to judge of men's talents by the di'esses they wear, by the offices they fill, or by the power they possess. After these two papers, I shall take some papers written by Lord Castlereagh, by the Duke of Wellington, and by the Marquis Wellesley. These are three of those persons who have, of late years, made the greatest figure in our affairs with foreign nations. The transactions which have been committed to their management have been such as were hardly ever exceeded in point of magnitude, whether we look at the transactions themselves or at their natural consequences. How much more fit than other men they were to be thus confided in ; how much more fit to have the interest and honor of a great nation committed to their hands, you will be able to judge when you shall have read my remarks on those of their papers to which I have here alluded. In the making of my comments, I shall insert the several papers, a paragraph or two, or more, at a time; and I shall number the paragraphs for the purpose of more easy reference. 8peaker''s Speech. 233 LESSON I. JRemarJcs on the Speech of the Speaker of the House of Commons to the Prince Regent, lohich Speech was made at the close of the first Session of 1819, during lohich Session PeeVs Bill was passed. " May it please your Royal Highness, 1. " We, liis Majesty's faitliful Commons of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland in Parliament assembled, attend your Royal Highness with our concluding Bill of Supply. 2. "The subjects which have occupied our attention have been more numerous, more various and more important, than are usually submitted to the consideration of Parliament in the same Session." It is difficult to say what is meant, in Paragraph, No. 2, by the word various. The Speaker had akeady said that the subjects were more numerous, which was quite enough ; for they necessarily differed from each other, or they were one and the same ; and, therefore, the word various can in this place have no meaning at all, unless it mean that the subjects were variegated in themselves, which would be only one degree above sheer nonsense. Next comes the " than are,''^ without a nominative case. Chambermaids, indeed, write in this way, and, in such a case, "the dear unintelligible scrawl " is, as the young rake says in the play, "ten thousands times more charming'* than correct writing ; but from a Speaker in his robes we might have expected "than those which are usually sub- mitted." And what does the Speaker mean by "in the same Session ? " He may mean " in one and the same Session ; " but what business had the word same there at all? Could he not have said, "dtu-ing ooie Session," or "during a single Session?" 3. " Upon many of these subjects we have been engaged in long" and unwearied examinations; but such has been the pressure of 234 Six Lessons. other business, and particularly of that which ordinarily belongs to a first Session of Parliament — and such the magnitude and intricacy of many of those inquiries^ that the limits of the present Session have not allowed of bringing them to a close." There is bad taste, at least, in using the word examin- ations in one part of the sentence, and the word inquiries in the other part, especially as the pronoun those was used in the latter case. The verb "has" agrees in num- ber with the noun '■'pressure ; " but the Speaker, notwith- standing the aid of his wig, was not able to perceive that the same verb did not agree in number with the nouns " magnitude and intricacy." " Such has been the pressure, and such have been the magnitude and intricacy." 4. "But, Sir, of those measures which we have completed, the most prominent, the most important, and, as we trust, in their consequences, the most beneficial to the public, are the measures which have grown out of the consideration of the present state of the country — both in its currency and its finances." There is not here any positive error in grammar ; but there is something a great deal worse ; namely, unintelli- gible words. The epithet '•'■prominent " was wholly unnec- essary, and only served to inflate the sentence. It would have been prudent not to anticipate, in so marked a manner, beneficial consequences from Peel's Bill; but what are we to understand from the latter pai't of the sentence"? Here ai-e measures growing out of the con- sideration of the state of the country in its currency and finances. What ! The state of the country in its currency? Or is it the consideration in its currency'? And what had the word both to do there at all? The Speaker meant that the measures had grown out of, or, which would have been much more dignified, had been the result of a con- sideration of the present state of the country, with regard to its currency as well as with regard to its finances. 5. "Early, Sir, in the present Session, we instituted an inquiry into the effects produced on the exchanges with foreign countries, Speaker s Speech. 235 and the state of the circulating medium, by the restriction on payments in cash by the Bank. This inquiry was most anxiously and most deliberately conducted, and in its result led to the conclusion that it was most desirable, quickly, but with due precautions, to return to our ancient and healthful state of currency: — TAaf what- ever might have been the expediency of the Acts for the suspension of payments of cash at the different periods at which they were enacted (and doubtless they were expedient), whilst the country was involved in the most expensive contest that ever weighed down the finances of any country — still that, the necessity for the con- tinuance of these Acts having ceased, it became us with as little delay as possible (avoiding carefully the coniiuMon of too rapid a transition) to return to our ancient system; and that, if at any period, and under any circumstances, this return could be effected without national inconvenience, it was at the present, when this mighty nation, with a proud retrospect of the past, after having made the greatest efforts, and achieved the noblest objects, was now reposing in a confident, and, as vfQ fondly hope, a well-founded expectation of a sound and lasting peace." Here, at the beginning of this long and most confused paragraph, are two sentences, perfect rivals in all respects ; each has 37 words in it; each has three blunders; and the one is just as obscure as the other. To ^'■institute'" is to settle, to Jix, to erect, to establish; and not to set about or undertake, which was what was done here. If I were to tell you that I have instituted an inquiry into the quah- ties of the Speaker's speech, you would, though I am your father, be almost warranted in calling me an egregious coxcomb. But what are we to make of the ^^and the"" further on ? Does the Speaker mean that they instituted (since he will have it so) an inquiry into the state of the cii'culating medium, or into the effects produced on the cu'culating medium by the cash suspension? I defy any man living to say which of the two is meant by his words. And then we come to " by the Bank ; " and here the only possible meaning of the words is, that the restriction was imposed by the JBank^ whereas the Speaker means the restriction on payments made at the Bank. If at, instead 236 Six Lessons. of by, had happened to drop out of the wig, this part of the sentence would have been free from error. As to the second sentence in this Paragraph No. 5, I may first observe on the incongruity of the Speaker's two superlative adverbs. Anxiously means with inquietude; and deliberately means coolly, slowly, warily, and the like. The first implies a disturbed, the latter a tranquil, state of the mind ; and a mixture of these it was, it appears, that produced Peel's Bill; this mixture it was which '■'•in its residts, LED to the conclusion;'''' that is to say, the result led to the result; result being conclusion, and con- clusion being result. But tautology is, you see, a favorite with this son of the Archbishop of Canterbury, more proofs of which you have yet to witness. And why must the king be compelled to hear the phrase " healthful state of the ciuTency," threadbare as it had long before been worn by Hoknek and all his tribe of coxcombs of the Edin- burgh Review"? Would not '■^our ancient currency''"' have answered every purpose *? And would it not have better become the lips of a person in the high station of Speaker of the House of Commons ? The remaining part of this paragraph is such a mass of confusion that one hardly knows where or how to begin upon it. The " that " after the colooi and the dash seems to connect it with what has gone before ; and yet what connection is there? Immediately after this '■'■thaV begins a parenthetical phrase, which is interrupted by a parenthesis, and then the parenthetical phrase goes on again till it comes to a dash, after which you come to the words that join themselves to the first '•'■that.''' These words are " still thaty Then, on goes the parenthetical phrase agaia till you come to "^^ became usy Then comes more parenthetical matter and another parenthesis ; and then comes " to return to our ancient systemP Take out all the parenthetical matter, and the paragraph will stand thus: "That it was desirable to return to our Speaker's Speech. 237 aBcient and healthful state of currency : — that — still that, it became us to return to our ancient system." But only think of saying "whatever might have been the expediency of the acts ; " and then to make a paren- thesis directly afterwards for the express purpose of posi- tively asserting that they " were expedient "/ Only think of the necessity for the continuance of the acts having ceased, and of its being becoming in the Parliament to return to cash payments as soo?i as possible, and yet that a convulsion was to be apprehended from a too rapid transition ; that is to say, from returning to cash payments sooner than possible / After this comes a doubt whether the thing can be done at all ; for we are told that the Parliament, in its wisdom, concluded that, if " at any period this return could be effected without national inconvenience, it vms at the present."" And then follows that piece of sublime non- sense about the nation's reposing in the fond (that is, foolish) hope of, not only a lasting, but also a sound, p>3ace. A lastirig peace would have been enough for a common man ; but the son of an Archbishop must have it sound as well as lasting, or else he would not give a far- thing for it. 6. " lu considering, Sir, the state of our finances, and in minutely comparing our income with our expenditure, it appeared to us that the excess of our income was not fairly adequate for the purposes to winch it was applicable — the gradual reduction of the national debt. 7. 'It appeared to us tliat a clear available surplus of at least five millions ought to be set apart for that object. 8. *'This, Sir, has been effected by the additional imposition of three millions of taxes." The word "■fairlg,"'' in Paragraph No. 6, is a redun- dancy; it is mere slang. "Adequate /'or'' ought to be "adequate ^o/" and ^'- applicable^' is inapplicable to the case ; for the money was applicable to any purpose. It should have been, " the purpose (and not the purposes) 238 Six Lessons. for which it was intended;'''' or, "the purpose to which it was intended to be applied." The 7th Paragraph is a heap of redundant Treasury- slang. Here we have surplus; that is to say, an over- quantity; but this is not enough for the Speaker, who must have it clem^ also ; and not only clear, but available; and then he must have it set apart into the bargain! Leave out all the words in italics, and put purpose instead of object at the end; and then you have something like common sense as to the words, but still foolish enough as to the political view of the matter. Even the 8th Paragraph, a simple sentence of fourteen words, could not be free from fault. What does the Speaker mean by an " additional imposition " ? Did he imagine that the king would be fool enough to believe that the Parliament had imposed three millions of taxes without making an addition to former impositions 1 How was the imposition to be other than " additional ? " Why, therefore, cram in this word? 9. "Sir, in adopting this course, his Majesty's faithful Commons did not conceal frmn tTiemselves that they were calling upon the nation for a great exertion : but well knowing that honor, and cfMV- acter^ and independence have at all times been the first and dearest objects of the hearts of Englishmen, we felt assured that there was no dijHiculty that the country could not encounter, and no pressure to which she would not willingly and cheerfully submit, to enable her to maintain, pure and unimpaired, that which lias never yet been shaken or sullied — her public credit and her national good faith." This is a sentence which might challenge the world! Here is, in a small compass, almost every fault that vn^iting" can have. The phrase ^'' conceal from themselves'''' is an importation from France, and from one of the worst manu- factories too. What is national '''•honor'''' but national ''^character?'''' In what do they differ? And what had '■'■independence'''' to do in a case where the subject was the means of paying a debt ? Here are three things named as Speaker's Speech. 239 the ^\first '' object of Englishmen's hearts. "Which was the ^\/irst'" of the three? Or were they the ^/irst three? To ^'■feel assured" is another French phrase. In the former pai't of the sentence, the Parliament are a they; in the latter part they are a we. But it is the figures of rhetoric which are the great beauties here. First it is English- 7nen who have such a high sense of honor and character and indepeyidence. Next it is the country. And next the country becomes a sAey and in her character of female will submit to any '■'•pressure'''' to enable her to '■^main- tain " her purity; though scarcely anybody but the sons of Archbishops ever talk about maintaining purity, most people thinking that, in such a case, preserving is better. Here, however, we have pure and unimpaired. Now, pure applies to things liable to receive stains and adulterations ; unimpaired., to things liable to be undennined, dilapi- dated, demolished, or wor7i out. So the Speaker, in order to make sure of his mark, takes them both, and says that the thing which he is about to name, " has never yet been shaken or sullied''''! But what is this fine thing after all? Gad! there are tioo things; namely, "public, credit and national good faith." So that, leaving the word good to go to the long account of redundancy, here is another instance of vulgarly- false grammar; for the two nouns, joined by the conjunction, require the verb have instead of has. 10. ' ' Thus, Sir, I have endeavored, shoi'tly, and I am aware how imperfectly, to notice the various duties which have devolved upon us, in one of the longest and most arduous sessions in the records of Parliament." 11. "The Bill, Sir, which it is my duty to present to your Royal Highness, is entitled, 'An Act for applying certain monies therein mentioned for the Service of the year 1819, and for further appro- priating the supplies granted in this Session of Parliament.' To which, with all humility, we pray his majesty's royal assent." Even here, in these common-place sentences, there must be something stupidly illiterate. The Speaker does not 2^40 /Six Wessons. mean that his " endeavor " was " shortly " made, or made in a short manner, but that his notice was made in a short manner ; and, therefore, it ought to have been, " to notice shortly" ii shortly \i must be; yet, surely phrase- ology less grovelling might have been used on such an occasion. "7?^ the longest session," and " in the records of Parliament," are colloquial, low and incorrect into the bargain; and as for "momes" in the last paragraph, the very sound of the word sends the mind to 'Change Alley, and conjures up before it all the noisy herd of Bulls and Bears. There is, indeed, one phrase in this whole Speech (that in which the Speaker acknowledges the imperfectness of the manner in which he has performed his task) which would receive our approbation; but the tenor of the speech, the at once flippant and pompous tone of it, the self-conceit that is manifest from the beginning to the end, forbid us to give him credit for sincerity when he con- fesses his deficiencies, and tell us that the confession is one of those clumsy traps so often used with the hope of catching unmerited applause. LESSON II. MemarJcs on the Speech which the Prince Regent made to the Parliament on the occasion when the above Speech of the Speaker was Tuade. "My Lords and Gentlemen : 12. " It is with great regret that I am again obliged to announce to you the continuance of his Majesty's lamented indisposition. 13. "I cannot close this session of Parliament without expressing the satisfaction that I have derived from the zeal and assiduity with which you have applied yourselves to the several important objects which have come under your consideration. 14. ' ' Your patient and laborious investigation of the state of the King^s Speech. 241 circulation and currency of the kingdom demands my warmest acknowledgment ; and I entertain a confident expectation that the measures adopted^ as tlie result of this inquiry, will be productive of the most beneficial consequences." The phrase pointed out by itahcs in the 12th Paragraph is amhigttous ; and, as it is wholly superfluous, it has no business there. The 13th Pai'agraph (for a wonder!) is free from fault ; but, in the 14th, why does the king make two of the " circulation and currency " f He means, doubt- less, to speak of the thing, or things, in use as money. This was the currency; and what, then, was the ^'■circu- lation " ? It is not only useless to employ words in this way ; it is a great deal worse ; for it creates a confusion of ideas in the mind of the reader. '•'■Investigation and inquiry " come nearly to each other in meaning ; but when the word " this," which had a direct application to what has gone before, was used, the word investigation ought to have followed it, and not the word inquiry; it being always a mark of great affectation and of false taste, when pains are taken to seek for synonymous words in order to avoid a repetition of sound. The device is seen through., and the littleness of mind exposed. ^\xQfine word "■adopted'''' is not nearly so good as the plain word taken would have been. The Parliament did not adopt the measures in question ; they were their own; of their own invention; and, if I were here writing re- marks on the measures, instead of remarks on the lan- guage in which they were spoken of, we might have a hearty laugh at the '■'■confident expectation'''' which the king entertained of the '■'■most beneficial consequences " of those measures, which were certainly the most foolish and mischievous ever taken by any ParHament, or by any legislative assembly, in the world. " Gentlemen of the House of Commons: 15. "1 thank you for the supplies which you have granted for the service of the present year. 11 242 Six Lessons. 16. "I sincerely regret that the necessity should have existed of making any additions to the burthens of the people ; but I antici- pate the most important permanent advantages from the effort which you have th,us made for meeting at once all the financial difficulties of the country ; and I derive much satisfaxition from the belief that the means vphich you have devised for this purpose are calculated to press as lightly on all classes of the community as could be expected when so great an effort was to be made." Nobody, I presume, but kings say an " effort for meet- ing." Others say that they make an effort to meet. And nobody, that I ever heard of before, except bill-brokers, talks about meeting money demands. One cannot help admiring the satisfaction, nay, the '■'■much satisfaction'''^ that the king derived from the belief that the nev/ taxes would press as lightly as possible on all classes of the community. I do not like to call this vulgar nonsense, because, though written by the ministers, it is spoken by the king. But, what is itf The additional load m,ust fall upon somebody; upon some class or classes/ and where, then, was the sense of expressing " much satisfac- tion'''' that they would fall Ughtly on all classes? The words " as possible,^'' which come after likely, do nothing more than make an addition to the confusion of ideas. "My Loeds and Gentlemen : 17. "I continue to receive from foreign powers the strongest assurances of their friendly disposition towards this country. 18." ' ' I have observed with great concern the attempts which have recently been made in some of the manufacturing districts to take advantage of circumstances of local distress, to excite a spirit of disaffection to the institutions and government of the country. No object can be nearer my heart than to promote the welfare and prosperity of all classes of his majesty's subjects ; but this cannot be effected without the maintenance of public order and tran- quillity. 18. ' ' You may rely, therefore, upon my firm determination to employ, for this purpose, the powers entrusted to me by law; and I have no doubt that, on your return to your several counties, you will use your utmost endeavors, in co-operating with the magis- King's Speech. 243 tracy, to defeat the machinations of those whose projects, if suc- cessful, could only aggravate the evils which it professed to remedy; and who, under the pretence of Reform, have really no other object hut the subversion of our happy Constitution." Weak minds, feeble writers and speakers, delight in superlatives. They have big sound in them, and give the appearance of force; but they very often betray those who use them into absurdities. The king, as in Paragraph No. 17, might continue to receive strong assurances ; but how could he receive 'Hhe strongest'' more than once? In the 18th Paragraph we have "welfare mid pros- yerity." I, for my part, shall be content with either (the two being the same thing), and if I find, from the acts of the government, reason to beheve that one is really sought for, I shall care little about the other. I am, however, I must confess, not greatly encouraged to hope for this, when I immediately afterwards hear of a "/rm determination " to employ ''powers;' the nature of which is but too well understood. ''Determination " can, in grammar, receive no additional force from having /r?7i placed before it; but, in political interpretation, the use of this word cannot fail to be looked upon as evincmg a little more of eagerness than one could wish to see ap- parent in such a case. • In these speeches, nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs generally go, like crows and ravens, in pairs. Hence we have, in the 18th Paragraph, " the institutions and gov- ernment " of the country. Now, though there way he institutions of the country, which do not form a part of its government; the government is, at any rate, amongst the country's institutions. If every institution do not form a part of the government, the government certainly forms a part of the institutions. But as the old woman said by her goose and gander, these words have been a couple for so many, many years, that it would be a sin to part them just at the last. 24 -i Six Lessons. The gross grammatical errors in the latter part of the last paragraph, where the singular pronoun it represents the plural noun projects, and the verb profess is in the past instead of the present time, one can account for only on the supposition that the idea of Reform had scared all the powers of thought from the minds of the writers. This unhappy absence of intellect seems to have con- tinued to the end of the piece; for here we have "no other object hut^'' instead of no other object than; and the word " really " put into the mouth of a king, and on such an occasion, is something so very lovj that we can hardly credit our eyes when we behold it. INTRODUCTION 7'o the Four Lessons on the productions of Lord Castle- reagh, the DuJce of 'Wellington, the Marquis Wellesley, and the JBishop of Winchester. From the literary productions of Speakers and Minis- ters, I come to those of Ambassadors, Secretaries of State, Viceroys, and Sishops. In these persons, even more fully perhaps than in the former, we are entitled to expect proofs of great capacity , as writers. I shall give you specimens from the writings of four persons of this de- scription, and these four, men who have been intrusted with the management of affairs as ' important as any that the king of this coiintry ever had to commit to the hands of his servants : I mean Lord Castlereagh, the Duke of Wellington, the Marquis Wellesley, and the Bishop of Winchester; the first of whom has been called the greatest statesman, the second the greatest captain, the thiixl the greatest viceroy, the foTurth the greatest tutor, of the age. The passages which I shall first select from the writings of these persons are contained in state papers relating to the Museums at Paris. Introduction, Etc. 245 And here, in order that you may be better able to judge of the writings themselves, I ought to explain to you the nature of the matters to which they relate, and the cir- cumstances under which they were written. The Museums at Paris contained, in the year 1815, when the King of France was escorted back to that city by the armies of the Allies, a great many statues and pictures, which Na- poleon had, in his divers conquests and invasions, taken from the collections of other countries, and carried to France. When, therefore, the Allies had, by theu* armies, possession of Paris, at the time just mentioned, they rifled these Museums, and took from them what had, or what they asserted had, belonged to the Allies respectively. The French contended that this was unjust, and that it was an act of pillage. They said, that, in 1814, when the Allies were also in possession of the capital of France, they put forward no claim to the things in question, which were, to all intents and purposes, military booty, or prize ; and that for the Allies to make this claim now, was not only contrary to their own precedent of 1814, but that it was to assume the character of enetnies of France, directly in the teeth of their own repeated declar- ations, in which they had called themselves friends and even Allies of France ; and in direct; violation of their solemn promises to commit against the French nation no act of hostility, and to treat it, in all respects, as a friend. The Allies had now, however, the^ower in their hands; and the result was the stripping of the Museums. To characterize this act committed by those who entered France under the name of the Allies of the king and of the great body of his people, and who took possession of Paris in virtue of a convention which stipulated for the security of all public property; to ■characterize such an act is unnecessary; but we cannot help lamenting that the Ministers of England'' were open abettors, if not orig- inal instigators, in this memorable transaction, which, of 246 Six Lessons. all the transactions of that time, seems to have created the greatest portion of rancor in the minds of the people of France. That the English Ministers were the instigators appears pretty clearly from the seizure (which was by force of arms) having been immediately preceded by a paper (called a note) dehvered by Lord Castlereagh in the name of the Prince Kegent to the Ambassadors of the Alhes, which paper was dated 11th Sept., 1815, and from which paper I am now about to give you a specimen of the writing of this Secretary of State. LESSON III. Remarhs on Lord CastlereagJi's Note of the Wth Sep- tember, 1815, on the stihject of the Museums at Paris. This Note sets out by saying, that representations, on the subject of the Statues and Pictures, have been laid before the Ambassadors of the Allies, and that the writer had received the commands of the Prince Regent to submit, for the consideration of the Allies, that which follows. After some further matter, amongst which we find this "greatest statesman" tJVing of "the indulgen- cies " (instead of indulgences) to which the Erench had a right " to aspire " (instead of to hope for); after saying that the purity of the friendship of the AlHes had been " proved beyond a question " by their last year's conduct, and " still more,'''' that is to say, farther than beyond, by their this year's conduct; after talking about the '■'- sub- stantial integrity " of France, and thereby meaning that she was to be despoiled of only a part of her dominions ; after talking about " combining " this ^'^ integrity with such an adequate system of temporary precaution as may sat- isfy what the Allies oioe to the security of their own IjOfd CastlereagK s Note. 247 subjects;" after all this, and a great deal more of the same description, we come to the paragraphs that I am now going to remark on. Observe, I continue the num- hering of the paragraphs, as if the whole of the papers on which I am commenting formed but one piece of writing. 20. "Upon what principle can France, at the close of such a war, expect to sit down with tlie same extent of possessions which she held before the Revolution, and desire, at the same time, to retain the ornamental spoils of all other countries ? Is it that there can exist a doubt of the issue of the contest, or of the power of the Allies to effectuate what justice and policy require? If not, upon what principle deprive France of her late territorial acquisitions, and preserve to her the spoliations appertaining to those territories which all modern conquerers have invariably respected, as insepar- able from the country to which they belonged ? 21 . " The Allied Sovereigns have perhaps something to atone for to Europe, in consequence of the course pursued by them, when at Paris, during the last year. It is true, they never did so far make themselves parties in the criminality of this mass of plunder as to sanction it by any stipulation in their treaties ; such a recog- nition has been on their part uniformly refused • but they certainly did use their influence to repress at that moment any agitation of their claims, in the hope that France, not less subdued by their generosity than by their arms, might be disposed to preserve inviolate a peace which had been studiously framed to serve as a bond of reconciliation between the nation and the king. They had also reason to expect that his Majesty would be advised volun- tarily to restore a considerable proportion, at least, of these spoils, to their lawful owners. 22. "But the question is a very different one now, and to pursue the same course, under circumstances so essentially altered, would be, in the judgment of the Prince Regent, equally unwise towards France, and unjust towards our Allies, who have a direct interest in this question. 23. "His Royal Highness, in stating this opinion,- feels it neces- sary to guard against the possibility of misrepresentation. 24. "Whilst he deems it to be the duty of the Allied Sovereigns not only not to obstruct, but facilitate, upon the present occasion, the return of these objects to the places from whence they were torn, it seems not less consistent with tTieir delicacy not to suffer the position of their armies in France, or the removal of tJiese works 248 Six Lessons. f i-om the Louvre, to become tlie means, either directly or indirectly, of bringing within their own dominions a single article which did not of right, at the period of tlmr conquest, belong either to their respective family collections, or to the countries over which they now actually reign. 25. ' ' Whatever value the Prince Regent might attach to such exquisite specimens of the fine arts, if otherwise acquired, he has no loisli to iecome possessed of them at the expense of France, or rather of the countries to which they of a right belong, more espe- cially hy following up a principle in war which he considers as a reproach to the nation by which it has been adopted, and so far from wishing to take advantage of the occasion to purchase from the rightful owners any articles they might, from pecuniary con- siderations, be disposed to part with, his Royal Highness would, on the contrary, be disposed rather to afford the means of replacing them in those very temples and galleries of which they were so long the ornaments. 26. ^'■Were it possible that his Royal Highness's sentiments towards the person and cause of Louis XVIII. could be brought into doubt, or that the position of his Most Christian Majesty was likely to be injured in the eyes of his own people, the Prince Regent would not come to this conclusion without the most painful re- luctance ; but, on the contrary, his Royal Highness believes that his Majesty will rise in the love and respect of his own subjects, in proportion as he separates himself from these remembrances of revolutionary warfare. These spoils, which impede a moral recon- ciliation between France and the countries she has invaded, are not necessary to record the exploits of her armies, which, notwith- standing the cause in which they were achieved, must ever make the arms of the nation respected abroad. But whilst these objects remain at Paris, constituting as it were the title-deeds of the coun- tries which have been given up, the sentim,ents of reuniting these countries again to France will never be altogether extinct; nor will the genius of the French people ever completely associate itself with the more limited existence assigned to the nation under the Bourbons." I shall say nothing of the logic of this passage; and I would fain pass over the real and poorly-disguised motive of the proceeding; but this must strike every observer. It is the mere writing, which, at present, is to be the Lord GastlereagK' s Note. 249 principal object of our attention. To be sure, the senti- ments, the very thoughts, in Paragraphs 24 and 25, which sj)eak the soul, as they are conveyed in the language, of the sedentary and circumspect keeper of a huckster's stand, or the more sturdy perambulating bearer of a mis- cellaneous pack, do, with voice almost imperious, demand a portion of our notice ; while, with equal force, a similar claim is urged by the suspicions in the former of these paragraphs, and the protestations in the latter, which present to the nations of Europe, and especially to the French nation, such a captivating picture of English frankness and sincerity f But let us come to the writing; and here, in Paragraph 20, we have spoliations appertaining to territories, though spoliation means the act of despoiling, and never does or can mean the thing of which one has been despoiled; and next, we have the word lohich, relating to spoliation, and then the subsequent part of the sentence tells us that spoliations have invariably been respected. In the 21st Paragraph, does the it relate to criminality or to mass of plimder? and what is meant by a sanction given to either? Could the writer suppose it possible that it was necessary to tell the Allies, themselves, that they had 7iot sanctioned such things? And here, if we may, for a moment, speak of the logic of our "greatest statesman," the Allies did sanction, not crhninality, not a mass of plunder, but the quiet possession of the speci- mens of art, by leaving, in 1814, that possession as they found it. At the close of this paragraph, we have a pro- portion, instead of apart, an error common enough with country fellows when they begin to talk fine, but one that surely ought to be absent from the most stately of the productions of a Secretary of State. "Unwise towards France, and unjust towards the Allies," and ^'■equally'''' too, is as pretty a specimen of what is called twattle as you will find ; while " the return " 11* 250 Six Lessons. of these '■'■objects^'' the not purloining of a '■'■single articled the not wishing to '■'■take advantage''^ and to '■'■purchase any of the articles that the owners might wish to part with,'''' form as fine an instance of the powers of the plume de crasse, or pen of tnud, as you will be able to hunt out of the history of a whole year's proceedings at the Police Ofl&ces. But, in Paragraph 24, we have "^^e^> conquest." The conquest of whom or tchatf That of the Allies, that of their dominions, or that of the "objects''''? It is impossi- ble to answer, except by guess ; but it comes out, at any rate, that there was a conquest; and this "greatest statesman " might have perceived that this one word was a complete answer to all his assertions about pltmder and spoliation ; for that which is conquered is held of right; and the only want of right in the Allies, forcibly to take these " articles," arose from their having entered France as Allies of the King of France, and not as enemies and conquerers. And what, in Paragraph 25, is meant by '^following up a principle in war''''? The phrase, "follow up a prin- ciple," is low as the dirt ; it is chit-chat, and very unfit to be used in a writing of this sort. But, as to the sense ; how could the regent, even if he had purchased the pic- tures, be said io follow up a principle "in war''''? The meaning, doubtless, was that the regent had no wish to become possessed of these things at the expense of France, or, rather, at the expense of the countries to which they belonged, especially as he could not thus gratify his taste for the arts without acting upon a principle which the French had acted on in war. This meaning might, indeed, be supposed to be contained in the above phrase of Lord Castlereagh; but in a writing of this kind, ought anything be left to supposition f The 26th Paragraph is an assemblage of all that is Lord GastlereagKs Note. 251 incorrect, low, and ludicrous. The " vms " after Christian Majesty ought to be could he, that is, '■^loere it possible that his position could he likely to be injured ; " and not '■'•were it possible that his position was likely to be in- jured," which is downright nonsense. And then only think of an injured position- and of the king's position being injured " in the eyes " of his people ! " But, on the contrary y On the contrary of what? Look back, and see if it be possible to answer this question. Next comes the intolerable fustian of the king's '■'■ separating himself from rememhrances;^'' and from this flight, down the " greatest statesman " pitches, robs the attorney's office, and calls the statues and pictures '■'■title deeds, as it were;" and this "as it were'''' is, perhaps, the choicest phrase of the M'^hole passage. But, in conclusion (for it is time to have done with it), what do you say to " the senti- ments of re-uniting the countries to France"? And what do you say, then, to the " genius ^^ (that is, the dis- position) " of the French people associating itself with the limited existence assigned to the nation under the Bourbons"? What do you say of the man who could make use of these words, when his meaning was, " that, as long as these statues and pictures remained to remind the French people of the late extent of the dominions of France, their minds would not be completely reconciled to those more narrow limits, which had now been pre- scribed to her"? What do you say of the man who, having this plain proposition to state, could talk of the genius of the people associating itself with the more limited existence of the nation, the nation being the people; and therefore his meaning, if there can be any sense in the words, being, that the people as a nation had, under the Bourbons, had their existence, or length of life, abridged? What do you say, what can you say of such a man, but that nature might have made him for a valet, for a strolling player, and possibly for an auctioneer ; but 252 Six Lessons. never for a Secretary of State! Yet this man was edu- cated at the JJjiiversity of Cambridge* LESSON IV. MemarJcs on a Dispatch of the Duke of 'Wellington {called the greatest Captain of the age) relative to the Museiums at Paris. Having, as far as relates to the Museums, taken a suffi- cient view of the writing of the greatest Statesman of the age, I now come to that of the '-'■ greatest Captain.'''' The writing that I am now about to notice relates to the same subject. The Captain was one of the Commanders at Paris, at the time above spoken of, and it is in that capa- city that he writes. But we ought to observe, here, that he is not only a great Captain, but a great Ambassador also; and that he was Ambassador at the Congress of Vienna just before the time we are speaking of ; and that • he was formerly Secretary of State for Ireland. The paper, from which I am about to make a quotation, is a " dispatch " from the " greatest Captain " to Lord Castlereagh, dated at Paris, 23rd September, 1815, soon after the museums had been rifled. I shall not take up much of your time with the per- formance of this gentleman ; a short specimen will suffice ; * This Lesson was written in June, 1822. On the 12th of August, 1822, this same Lord Castlereagli (being still Secretary of State) killed himself at North Cray, in Kent, by cutting his throat. A Coroner's Jury pronounced him to have been insane; and, which is very curious, a letter from the Duke of Wellington was produced to prove that the deceased had been insane for some time. Though, mind, he had been for some time, and was when he cut his throat, actually entrusted with the care and powers of the two other Secre- taries' offices (they being absent), as well as those of the office of Foreign Affairs.' The Duhe of Wellington. 253 and that shall consist of the first three paragraphs of his '■^dispatch.'''' "My dear Loed : 27. ' ' There has been a good deed of discussion here lately respect- ing the measures which I have been under the necessity of adopt- ing, in order to get for the King of the Netherlands his pictures, etc., from the museums; and lest these reports sliould reacli the Prince Regent, I wish to trouble you, for liis Royal Highness's in- formation, "with the following statement of what has passed. 28. ' ' Shortly after tlie arrival of the sovereigns at Paris, the minister of the King of the Netlierlands claimed the pictures, etc., belonging to liis sovereign, equally with tliose of other powers; and, as far as I could learn, never could get any satisfactory reply from the French government. After several conversations witli me, he addressed your lordship an official note, which was laid before the ministers of the allied sovereigns, assembled in conference; and the subject was taken into consideration repeatedly, with a view to discover a mode of doing justice to the claimants of the speci- mens of the arts in the museums, without injuring the feelings of the King of France. In the meantime the Prussians had obtained from his majesty not only all the really Prussian pictures, but those belonging to the Prussian territories on the left of the Rhine, and the pictures, etc., belonging to all the allies of his Prussian majesty; aM the subject pressed for an early decision; and jour lordship wrote your note of the 11th instant, in which it was fully discussed. 29. "The ministers of the King of the Netherlands still having no satisfactory answer from the French government, appealed to me, as the general-in-chief of the army of the King of the Nether- lands, to know whether I had any objection to employ his majesty's troops to obtain possession of what was his undoubted property. I referred this application again to ' the ministers of the allied courts, and no objection having been stated, I considered it my duty to take the necessary measures to obtain what was his right." The great characteristic of this writing (if writing it ought to be called) is the thorough-paced vulgarity of it. There is a meanness of manner as well as of expression, and, indeed, a suitableness to the subject much too natural in all its appearances, to have been the effect of art. 254 Six Lessons. The writer, though addi'essing a minister of state, and writing matter to be laid before a sovereign, begins ex- actly in the manner of a quidnunc talking to another that he has just met in the street. " There has been a good deal of discussion,^'' (that is to say, talk) " heref that is to say, at Paris, Castlereagh being, at the time, in London. The phrase "to get for'' is so very dignified that it could have come only from a great man, and could have been inspired by nothing short of the consciousness of being "iAe ally of all the nations of JEurope,'" as the writer calls himself in another part of this famous '■'■dispatch.'''' But what are " these reports,'" of which the great Cap- tain speaks in the latter part of this paragraph? He had spoken of no reports before. He had mentioned "dis- cussion,'" and a "-good deaV of it; but had said not a word about reports; and these reports pop out upon us like "these six men in buckram," in Falstaffs narrative to the Prince. The captain's " wishing to trouble " Lord Castlereagh, " for the regent's information," closes this paragraph in a very suitable manner, and prepares the mind for the next, where the regent would find trouble enough, if he were compelled to find out the English of it. The Dutch minister "cZazmec?the pictures belonging to his sovereign, equally with those of other powers!" What! did this Dutchman claim the whole : those belonging to the Dutch sovereign and those belonging to all the other powers besides "? This, to be sure, would have been in the true Dutch style; but this could hardly be the fact. If it were, no wonder that the duke had learned that the minister '•'■never could get any satisfactory reply;" for it must have been a deal indeed that would have satisfied him. The phrase "he addressed your lordship an official note " is in the counting-house style ; and then to say to Lord Castlereagh, " your lordship wrote your note of the The, Buhe of Wellington. 255 11th of September," was so necessary, lest the latter should imagine that somebody else had written the note ! Nor are the four ands in this paragraph to be overlooked ; for never was this poor conjunction so worked before, except, perhaps, in some narrative of a little girl to her mother. The narrative is, in the last-quoted paragraph, continued with unrelaxed spirit. The Dutch minister can still ob- tain no satisfactory answer ; he asks the duke whether he has any objection to use force, and asserts, at the same time, that the goods in question are his master's ^^un- doubted property.'''' "Upon this the duke applies to the other ministers, and, " no objection having been stated,"" he considers it his duty to obtain " what was his right/'' that is to say, the Dutch king's right. Never was there surely a parcel of words before put together by anybody in so clumsy a manner. In a sub- sequent part of the ^^ dispatch,''' we have this: "I added, that I had no instructions regarding the museum, 7ior no grounds on which to form a judgment." In another place we have "the King of the iVe^AerZawc^'s pictures." In another place we have "that the property should be retvirned to their rightful owners." But, to bestow criticism on such a shocking abuse of letters is to disgrace it ; and nothing can apologize for what I have done but the existence of a general knowl- edge of the fact that the miserable stuff that I have quoted, and on which I have been remarking, proceeded from the pen of a man who has, on many occasions, had some of the most important of the nation's affairs com- mitted to his management. There is in the nonsense of Castlereagh a frivolity and a foppery that give it a sort of liveliness, and that now and then elicit a smile ; but in the productions of his correspondent there is nothing to relieve ; all is vulgar, all clumsy, all dull, all torpid inanity. 256 /Six Lessons. LESSON V. Remarks on a Note presented by Lord Castlereagh to the Ambassadors of the Allies, at Paris, in July, 1815, relative to the slave trade. 30. " Viscount Castleeeagh, his Britannic Majesty's principal Secretary of State, etc., in reference to the communication he has made to the conference of the orders addressed to the admiralty to suspend all hostilities against the coast of France, observes, that there is reason to foresee that French ship-owners might be induced to renew the slave trade, under the supposition of the peremptory and total abolition decreed by Napoleon Bonaparte having ceased with his power; that, nevertheless, great and powerful considera- tions, arising from motives of humanity and even regard for the king's authority, require that no time should be lost to maintain in France the entire and immediate abolition of the traffic in slaves ; that if, at the time of the Treaty of Paris, the king's administration could wish a final but gradual stop should be put to this trade, in the space of five years, for the purpose of affording the king the gratification of having consulted, as much as possible, the interests of the French proprietors in the colonies, now, that the absolute prohibition has been ordained, the question assumes entirely a dif- ferent shape, for if the king were to revoke the said prohibition, lie would give himself the disadvantage of authorizing , in the interior of France, the reproach Avliich more than once has been thrown out against his former government, of countenancing reactions, and, at the same time, justifying, out of France, and particularly in England, the belief of a systematic opposition to liberal ideas; that accordingly the time seems to have arrived when the Allies cannot hesitate formally to give weight in France to the immediate and entire prohibition of the slave trade, a prohibition, the necessity of which has been acknowledged, in principle, in the transactions of the Congress at Vienna." Now, I put this question to you : Do you understand 'what this great statesman means? Read the note three times over, and then say whether you understand tohat he wants. You may guess/ but you can go little further. Here is a whole mass of grammatical errors ; but it is the Lord Castlereagh^s Note. 257 obscurity, tlie loiiintelligibleness of the note, that I think constitutes its greatest fault. One way of proving the badness of this writing is to express the meaning of the writer in a clear manner ; thus : "Lord Castlereagh observes that there is reason to apprehend that the French ship-owners may be induced to renew the slave trade, from a supposition that the total abolition, recently decreed by Napoleon, has been nullified by the cessation of his authority ; that motives of humanity, as well as a desire to promote the establish- ment of the king's authority, suggest that no time should be lost in taking efficient measures to maintain the decree of abolition ; that at the time of the Treaty of Paris, the king's ministers wished to abolish this trade, but, in order that the king might, as much as possible, consult the interests of the colonial proprietors, those ministers wished the object to be accomplished by degrees during the space of five years ; that now, however, when the abolition has been actually decreed, the matter assumes an entirely different shape, seeing that it is not now an abolition, but the refraining from revoking an abolition, that is proposed to be suggested to the king ; that, if the king were to do this, he would warrant amongst his own people the injurious imputation, more than once brought against his former government, of countenancing the work of undoing and overturning, and would, at the same time, confirm foreign nations, and particularly the English, in the belief that he had adopted a systematic opposition to hberal principles and views ; that, therefore, the inter- ests of the king not less than those of humanity seem to call upon the Alhes to give, formally and without delay, the weight of their influence in favor, as far as relates to France, of an entire and immediate abolition of the slave trade, an abolition, the necessity of which has, in principle at least, been acknowledged in the transactions of the Congress of Vienna." 258 /Six Xessons. Now, as to the several faulty expressions in the note of Castlereagh, though I have made great use of italics, I have not pointed out one-half of the faults. Whoever before heard of a reason to foresee a thing? He meant reason to believe that the thing would take place, and as it was a thing to be wished not to take place, to apprehend was the word ; because to apprehend means to think of with some degree of fear. Wishing to-morrow to be a fine day, what would you think of me if I were to say that I had reason to foresee that it would rain? The might is clearly wrong. If the abolition were total, what had peremptory to do there? Could it be more than total? The nevertheless had no business there. He was about to give reasons why the abolition decree ought to be confirmed ; but he had stated no reasons given by any- body why it should not. To lose no time to maintain; and then the in France, and then the immediate; alto- gether there is such a mass of confusion that one cannot describe it. " To maintain in France^'' would lead one to suppose that there was, or had been, a slave trade in France. The next part, beginning with '■'■that if'' sets all criticism at defiance. Look at the verbs could wish, and should be! Look at of having. Then com^^ prohi- bition for abolition, two very different things. To assume entirely a different shape is very different from to assume an entirely different shape. The latter is meant and the former is said. Then what does the /or do there? What consequence is he coming to? How was he going to show that the shape was different ? He attempts to show no such thing; but falls to work to foretell the evils which will fall on the King of France if he revoke Na- poleon's decree. And here. Goddess of Grub-street, do hear him talking of the King of France giving himself the disadvantage of authorizing reproaches! If the king's conduct would justify peoj)le in believing ill of him, why should it justify the English in particular? Lord CastlereagJi^s Note. 259 They might, indeed, be more ready to beHeve ill of him ; but it could not be more just in them than in others. An opposition to ideas is a pretty idea enough ; and so is the giving of loeight in France to an immediate pro- hibition ! Never was there, surely, such a piece of writing seen before ! Fifty years hence, no man who should read it would be able to ascertain its meaning. I am able to pick it out, because, and only because, I am acquainted with the history of the matter treated of. And yet, most momentous transactions, transactions involving the fate of milhons of human beings, have been committed to the hands of this man! It is not unnecessary for me to observe that, though I have stated the meaning of this note in a way for it to be understood, I by no means think, that even in the words in which I have expressed it, it was a proper note for the occasion. It was false in professions; and it was, as towards the King of France, insolent in a high degree. Even if it had been just to compel the king to abolish the slave trade, the matter might have been expressed in a less offensive manner ; and, at any rate, he might have been spared the brutal taunt that we meet with towards the close of this matchless specimen of diplomatic stu- pidity. Hoping that this book will outlive the recollection of the transactions treated of by the papers on which I have been remarking, it seems no more than justice to the parties to say that the abolition, which was thus extorted, had effect but for a very short time; and the French nation never acknowledged it as binding; that at this moment (June, 1822), complaints are made in the House of Commons of the breach of agreement on the part of the French ; that the French have revived and do cany on the traffic in African slaves ; that our ministers promise to make remonstrance; but that they dare not talk of 260 Six JOessons. ■ waxTand that without declaring their readiness for war, their remonstrances can have no eifect. LESSON VI. RemarJcs on passages in Dispatches from the Marquis "Wellesley, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, to discount Sidmouth, and to Mr. Peel, Secretaries of State; dated Dublin Castle, from 3f? January to VUh June, 1822 ; and also on the charge of the Bishop op Winchester, delivered in J%dy, 1822. 31. ' ' Concluding that your lordship liad heen apprised, before my arrival in Dublin, of every important circumstance respecting the unhappy disturbances which Jiave prevailed in this country, I pro- ceed to submit to you, for his Majesty's consideration, such informa- tion as I have received on that subject during the few days that I have passed since my succession to this government. 82. ' ' I propose to arrange this information loith reference to each county respectively, for the purpose of facilitating a comparison with such statements as may already be in your lordship's possession, and of enabling you to form a judgment of the relative state of each particular district at the different -periods of time specified in ea^h document.'''' The marquis's style is not, in general, lovj and clumsy/ it has the opposite faults, affectation and foppishness; and where the meaning of the writer is obscure, it is not so much because he has not a clear head as because he cannot condescend to talk in the language and manner of common mortals. '■'•Had heen apprised before of disturbances lohich have prevailed" presents great confusion as to times. We can hardly come at the precise meaning. It should have been : " Concluding that, before my arrival, your lordshij) was apprised of every important circumstance respecting the unhappy disturbances prevailing in this country." For the prevalence was still in existence. To submit is Marquis Wellesleys Dispatches. 261 to place at the disposal of, to put under the power of/ and, therefore, transmit, or send, was the proper word ; for it is the king to whom the information is sxd)mitted. The marquis sent the information to Lord Sidmouth that he might submit it to the king. '■'■Succession to this governmenV is a strangely pompous phrase at best. But it is not correct ; for his succession (if it were one) took jolace at his appointment/ and he is about to sj)eak of what he has learned since his arrival in Dubhn ; and why not say arrival? The 32d paragraph is, perhaps, as complete a specimen of smoothness in words and of obscui'ity in meaning as ever found its way upon paper ; and yet this was an occasion for being particularly clear, seeing that the marquis was here explaining the plan of his dispatch. With reference to, means in relation to, as appertaining to, having a view towards. The first is the best for the marquis : and that is little short of nonsense ; for what is arranging infor- mation in relation to each county? What does it mean? Not what the marquis thought he was saying, which was that he proposed to speak of the state of all the counties, and that the information relating to each county he meant to place under a separate head. This was what hd meant ; but this he does not say. And then again, what does respectively do here after each? Respectively means particularly or relatively / and as he had before said, or meant to say, that he pro- posed to place the information relating to each county under the head of that county, what need was there of the addition of this long and noisy adverb ? To be sure, to place the information under separate heads, each head confining itself to the information relat- ing to one county, was a very good way of facilitating a comparison of this information with that which was already in Lord Sidmouth's possession; but it was not enough to say ^'■facilitating a comparison with such 262 Six Lessons. statements f and thei'e appears, besides, to be no reason to conclude that the information before possessed was arranged according to counties; on the contrary, the marquis's layiag down of his plan would induce us to suppose that the arrangement of his matter was new. The latter part of the sentence is all confusion. The marquis means that, by placing his information as before described, he shall enable Lord Sidmouth to form a judg- ment of the state of each district, now, compared with the state in 7/hich it was at the date of the former inform,ation. The " relative state of each particular dis- trict " may mean its state at one period cotnpared tniih its state at another period; but " at different periods of time " by no means gives us this idea. And, even if it did, what are we to do with the " each document " at the close? Each means one of tioo, one of more than one. So that here we have the relative state of a district at the different periods of time specified in one document; and the main point that the marquis was driving at was to show Lord Sidmouth the manner in which he was going to enable him to compare the contents of the present document with those of the documents already held iu his possession. I have taken here the first two sentences of the dis- patch. They are a fan- specimen of the marquis's style, the great characteristic of which is obscurity arising from affectation. What he meant was this: "I propose to place the information relating to each county under a distinct head, for the purpose of facilitating a comparison of this information with that which your lordship may already possess, and also for the purpose of enabling you to form a judgment of the present state of each county, compared with the state in which it was at the date of former dispatches." And Avould it not have been better to write thus than to put upon paper a parcel of words, Marquis Wellesleys Dispatches, 263 the meaning of which, even if you read them a hundred times over, must still remain, a matter of uncertaitity "? But there is another fault here; and that is, all the latter part of the sentence is a mere redundancy/ for of what was Lord Sidmouth to "form a judgment f A judgment of the comparative state of the country at the two periods % "What could this be more than the making of the comparison? Judgment, in this case, means opinion; and if the marquis had said that his object was to enable Lord Sidmouth to form a judgment as to what ought to he done, for instance, in consequence of the change in the state of the country, there would have been some sense in it ; but to enable him to see the change was all that the marquis was talking about ; and the very act of making the comparison was to discern, ox judge of, the change. It is not my intention to swell out these remarks, or,, with this dispatch before me, I could go on to a great extent indeed. Some few passages I cannot, however,, refrain from just pointing out to you. 33. ' ' The commanding officer at Bantry reports a daring attack made a few nights previously, on several very respectable houses in the immediate vicinity of that town, by a numerous banditti, who succeeded in obtaining arms from many ; and the officer stationed at Skibbereen states Ids oiyinion that the spirit of disaffection, which Tiad been confined to tlie northern baronies of the county, had spread in an alaiTaing measure through the whole of "West Carbmy ; that nightly meetings are held at various places on the coast, and that bands of offenders assemble, consisting of not less than three hun- dred in each band. 34. "It further appears, from various communications, that flie greater part of the population of the northern part of the county of Cork had assembled in the mountains, and that they have in some places made demonstrations of attack, and in others have committed outrages by day, with increased force and boldness." "Heports an attack" is of the slang m^ilitary, and should not have forced its way into this dispatch. *^ States his opinion that," is little better. But it is to the strange 264 Six Wessons. confusion in the times of the verbs that I here wish to direct your attention. This is a fault the marquis very frequently commits. I cannot help drawing your attention to "a numerous banditti" and ■'^not less than three hundred men." Banditti is plural, and therefore the a ought to be left out. Less is the comparative of little, used witli reference to quantity ; but men are not a quantity, "but a number, and the comparative of few, which is fewer, ought to have been used here. S5. '' ' The magistrates resident at Dunmanaway report tJiat illegal ' oaths liavefor a long time been administered in that neighborhood; tliat nocturnal meetings have frequently been held; that in the adjoining parishes, notices of an inflammatory description have been posted; and, in one. parish, arms have been taken from the peaceable inhabitants. 36. ' ' The Rector of reports, on the 10th, that six houses of liis parishioners had been attacked on the preceding night, and some arms obtained from them, and then an attempt had been made to assassinate Captain Bernard, an active yeomanry officer, Tvhen only a short distance behind his corps, but that, owing to the pistol presented at him missing fire, he escaped, and his brother shot the assailant." "We do not know from the words '■^ have for a long time henn administered," whether the oaths were administered a long time ago, or are now, and long have been adminis- tering. The that should have been repeated between the nnd and the in towards the close of paragraph 35 ; for the want of it takes the last fact out of the report of the magistrates, and makes it an assertion of the marquis. The same remark applies to the 36th paragraph, where, for the want of the that between the and and the then, it is the marquis, and not the rector, who asserts the fact of an attempt to assassinate the captain. An odd sort of an attempt to assassinate, by-the-bye, seeing that it was made by a pistol openly presented at him, and that, too, when his troop was just on before, and when his brother w^as so near at hand as to be able to shoot the assailant! !But assassinate is become a fashionable word in such cases. Marquis "Wellesleys Dispatches. 265 . 37. " On the evening of the same day a detachment of the 11th Regiment was attacked, on its march from Macroom to Bandon, by a party of sixty men, who followed it for three miles, and took advantage of the inclosiires to fire, and to retard the march of the king's troops." The meaning is that the party of sixty men followed it (the regiment), took advantage of the inclosui-es to fire on it, and to retard its march ; but the marquis, from a ds- su-e to ^YT\ieJine, leaves us in doubt yfh.eih.ev the regimeixt and the king's troops be the same body of men ; and this doubt is, indeed, countenanced by the almost incredible circumstance that a regular regiment should he followed for three miles, and actually have its march retarded by sixty menJ 38. "A countryman's house is also stated to have been attacked by forty men, well mounted and armed, who severely beat and wounded him, and took his horse. > reports an attack on the house of Mr. Sweet, near Macroom, who, having received previous intimation of the attack, and having prepared for defence, suc- ceeded in repulsing the assailants, about two hundred in number, with a loss of two killed, who were carried off by their associates, although their horses were secured." Here we have reports an attack again; but your atten- tion is called to the latter part of the paragraph, where it would appear that Mr. Sweet sustained a loss of tv)o killed; and yet these two dead men were carried off by their assailants. If the marquis had stopped at the word killed, it would have been impossible not to understand him to mean that Mi-. Sweet had two of his men killed. 39. "A magistrate communicates that information had been received by him of several intended attacks upon houses in that neighborhood, but that they had been prevented by the judicious employment of the police, stationed at Sallans, under the Peace Preservation Act." By employing the police in a judicious manner, the marquis means ; but says quite another thing. 40 ' ' The police magistrate at Westmeath reports the setting fire 12 266 Six Lessons. to a fanner's outhouses, which, together with the cattle in them, WAS consumed." It should be " the setting of fire ;" and it should be toere, and not teas; for the deuce is in it if out-houses, together with the cattle in them, do not make up di, plural. 41. "The remit of the facts stated in this dispatch, andfits inclo^- ures, seems to justify an opinion that, although no material change has occurred in any other part of Ireland, the disturbances in the vicinity of Macroom have assumed a more decided aspect of general disorder, and accordingly I have resorted to additional measures of precaution and military operation." There should be an in between the and and the its. But, it is not the result of the facts that seems to justify the opinion ; it is the facts themselves that justify the opinion, and the opinion is the result. Measures of m,ilitary operation, too, is an odd sort of phrase. This paragraph is all bad, from beginning to end; but I am merely pointing out prominent and gross errors. 42. "Another magistrate reports several robberies of arms in the parishes of Skull and Kilmore, and the burning of a corn-store at Crookhaven; and another, in representing the alarming state of the country, adds, that the object of the insurgents, in one district at least, has not been confined to the lowering of rents and tithes, but extended to the refusal also of the priests dues." To roh applies to the person or thing from whom or which something is violently and unlawfully taken. Men rob a man of his money, or a house of its goods ; but it is not the money and goods that are robbed. Yet this is a very common phrase with the marquis, who, in other places, talks of ^'■plundering arms /Vowi people," and who, by saying " six hundred and seventy-six firearms,^'' and the like, leaves us clearly to understand that he is at liberty to use this noun in the singtdar, and, of course, to say a fire-arm whenever he may choose ; a liberty, however, which I would, my dear James, earnestly recom- mend to you never to think of taking. Marquis Wellesley''s Dispatches. 267 To confine and extend an object does not seem to be very clear sense ; and, at any rate, to say that the object of loioering rents and tithes has been extended to the refusal also of the priest's dues makes sad work indeed. Without the also, the thing might pass ; but that word makes this part of the sentence downright nonsense. 43. "No additional military force, no improvement nor augmen- tation of the police, would now be effectual without the aid of the Insurrection Act ; with that aid it appears to be rational to expect that tranquillity may be maintained, confirmed, and extended throughout Ireland. It is, therefore, my duty, in every view, to request the renewal of the law, of which the operation forms the subject of this dispatch.'''' Did any man, in any writing of any sort, ever before meet with anything Hke this? Suppose I were to say, '■Hhe vyritings of ivhich the inaccuracies form the subject of these remarks," what would the world think and say of me? This is indeed "prose ^M?^ «*ar?." Cobbett means, of course, that we should say, "the writings, the inaccm-acies of which " ; but we can now say, ' ' the writings whose inaccuracies," which sounds much more smootli and elegant. 44. ' ' With respect to Westmeath, the chief magistrate of police has stated the revival of those party feuds and personal conflicts in the neighborhood of MuUingar, which are considered in this coun- try to be indications of the return of public tranquillity, and from which the magistrate expects the detection of past offences against the state." One loses sight of everything about language here, in contemplating the shocking, the horrible fact ! For, what is so horrible as the fact here officially stated, that party feuds andpersonal conflicts are deemed indications /ay or- able to the government, and that they are expected by the magistrate to lead to the detection of past offences against the state! As to the grammai': to '■'■state the revivaV is just as good EngUsh as it would be to say that the magis- trate has stated the fine iceather. The " the return " ought to be "a return.'''' 268 iSlx Lessons. 45. "The early expiration of the Act would, at least, hazard the revival of that tyranny ; the restraints imposed on violence have not yet been of sufficient duration to foiTQ any solid foundation of a better and more disciplined disposition in the minds of the people. Even now it is believed that arms are retained in tlie Iwpe of tlie expiration of the law on the 1st of August; and although a more auspicious sentiment may exist in the hearts of some, even of the guilty, it would be contrary to all prudent policy and provident wis- dom, by a premature relaxation of the law, to afford facility to tlie accomplishment of the worst designs, and to weaken the protec- tions and safeguards, which now secure the lives and properties of the loyal and obedient, before the spirit of outrage had been effect- ually extinguished." " To hazard the revival " is not correct. To hazard is to expose to danger • and certainly the marquis did not mean that the revival of the tyranny was a thing that ought not to be />w^ in dangef. The word hazard had no business there. Another mode of expression ought to have been used; such as, "exposed the country to the danger of the revival of the tyranny." The semicolon after tyranny ought to have been ^fidl- point. "In the hope of the expiration'''' is bad enough; but it is the arrangement of this sentence, the placing of the several parts of it, which is most worthy of your attention, and which ought to be a warning to every one who takes pen in hand. ^^ Prudent policy osxdi provident wisdom " would seem to say that there are such things as imprudent poUcy and improvident wisdom ; but, still, all the rest is inferior, in point of importance, to the confusion which follows, and which leaves you wholly in doubt as to the meaning of the writer. Now, observe with what facility this mass of confusion is reduced to order, and that, too, without add- ing to or taking from the marquis one single word. I begin after the word wisdom : " to afford, by a premature relaxation of the law, facility to the accompHshment of the worst designs, and to weaken, before the spirit of outrage had been effectually extinguished, the safeguards jBishop of Winchester's Charge. 269 •winch now secure the hves and properties of the loyal and obedient." How clear this is ! And how much more harmonious and more elegant, too, than the sentence of the marquis ; and yet the words are all the same identical words! Towai'ds the close of Letter XXI, I gave you, from Dr. Johnson and Dr. Watts, some striking instances of the torong placing of words in sentences; and, lest these should be insufficient to keep so great a man as the mar- quis in countenance, I will here show that a bishop can commit eiTors of the same sort and greater in degree. Before passing to the bishop, is it not worth while to pause a moment to notice the remarkable fact, that, in the matter of outrages and violence, the Irish seem to have been just as bad at the begin- ning of the century as they are now toward the end of it ? What a familiar picture of outrage and violence these dispatches present, and what a time the English have had in governing the people of this ' ' ever faithful " isle ! The government has certainly improved since the time these dispatches were written ; and yet what shall we say of the advance made by the people ? Are all these murders and assassinations of the present day the result of English tyranny and injustice, or are they the result of other causes ? What have Uie Church, the press, and the schools done to improve the char- acter of the Irish people ? I fear that if these were weighed in the balance, they would all be foimd wanting. The French under the Napoleons and the Germans under Bismarck have suffered ten times more oppression than the Irish under Victoria, without com- mitting one tenth as many crimes ; and the reason of this is, that the French and the Germans are better edticated than the Irish. They have the moral sense to perceive that the commission of crime no more leads to national liberty than to personal happiness. Not the least important part of that education in which the Irish are lacking, is the practice of economy and foresight in the affairs of daily life. Out of every hundred Frenchmen, at least ninety-five save something every year; and the proportion of saving people among the Germans is perhaps stiU greater. Now I am positive that, among the Msh, not ten in a hundred ever think of saving anything ; and this is one cause of the misery and starvation that periodically overtakes them. I have before me "^4 Charge delivered to the Clergy of 270 Six Lessons. the Diocese of Winchester, at a primary visitation of that diocese, by Geobge Tomline, D.D., F.B.S., Lord JBishop of Winchester, Prelate of the most Nohle Order of the Garter. ''"' We will not stop here to inquire wliat a prelate's office may require of him relative to an Order which history tells us arose out of a favorite lady drop- ping her garter at a dance ; but I must observe that, as the titles here stand, it would appear that the last is deemed the most honorable and of most importayice to the clergy! This bishop, whose name vms Pkettyman, was the tutor of that William Pitt who was called the heaven- horn minister, and a history of whose life has been written by this bishop. So that we have here, a Doctor of Di- vinity, a Fellov) of the Hoyal Society, a Prelate of the Tnost Nohle Order of the Garter, and a JBishop of one of the richest Sees in the v^hole viorld, who, besides, is an Historian, and was Tutor to a heaven-horn minister. Let us see then what sort of %oriting comes from such a source. I could take an incorract sentence, I could even take a specimen of downright nonsense, from almost any page of the Charge. But I shall content myself with the very first sentence of it. 46. "My reverend, brethren, being called to preside over this distinguished diocese, at a late period of life, I have thought it incumbent upon me not to delay the opportunity of becoming per- sonally acquainted with my clergy longer than circumstances ren- dered absolutely necessaiy." There are tioo double meanings in this short sentence. Was he called at some former time, to preside over the diocese when he should heconfie old? or was he, when he had become old, called to preside over the diocese? But what follows is still worse. Does he mean that he thought it incumbent on him to become acquainted with his clergy as soon as possible, or ^?^ as short a thne as possible f To delay an opportunity is not very good ; and that which is of a man's own appointment, and which proceeds purely Bishop of Winchef^ter's Charge. 271 from liis own will, cannot strictly be called an op^^ortuniii/. But it is the double meaning, occasioned by the wro7ig- placing of the words, that I wish you to attend to. Now, see how easily the sentence might, with the same words, have been made unequivocal, clear, and elegant: " My Reverend Brethren, being called, at a late period of life, to preside over this distinguished diocese, I have thought it incumbent on me not to delay, longer than cii'cumstances rendered absolutely necessary, the oppor- tunity of becoming personally acquainted with my clergy." How easy it was to write thus ! And yet this bishoj) did not know how to do it. I dai'e say that he con-ected and re-corrected every sentence of this charge. And yet what h%(j7igling work it is, after all ! And these are your college and itniversity bred men ! These are the men who are called Doctors on account of their literary acquire- ments, doctus being the Latin word for learned! Thus it is that the mass of mankind have been imposed upon by Mg sounding names, which, however, have seldom failed to insure, to those who have assumed them, j^ower, ease, luxury, and splendor, at the expense of those who have been foohsh or base enough to acquiesce, or to seem to acquiesce, in the fitness of the assumption. Such acquiescence is not, however, so general now-a- days as it formerly was ; and the chagrin which the '■'■Doc- tors^'' feel at the change is not more evident than it is amusing. In the very charge which I have just quoted, the tutor of the heaven-born minister says, "A spirit is still manifest amongst us, producing an impatience of control, a reluctance to acknowledge superio7'ity, and an eagerness to call in question the expediency of established forms and customs.'''' What! is it, then, a sin; is it an offence against God, to be reluctant to '■'^acknowledge superiority " in a bishop who cannot write so well as om-- selves? Oh, no! We are not to be censured, because we doubt of the expediency of those estabHshments, those 272 Six T^essons. colleges and universities, which cause immense revenues, ai'ising from public property, to be expended on the edu- cation of men, vs^ho, after all, can produce, in thp literary way, nothing better than writings such as those' on which we have now been remarking. The nature of the faults in these extracts may, perhaps, be made still clearer by calling your attention to the two kinds of sentences called l0?)se and periodic. A loose sentence is one in which the sense is complete at the end of any phrase or clause in it, whereas a periodic sentence keeps the sense suspended till the end. The latter is generally preferable to the foimer. For instance; "We have learned to speak and write English correctly, in a few months, by means of this little book, in spite of many obstacles." This is a loose sentence ; so loose that any member of it may be dropped without injuring the sense. Now let us put it in a periodic form, and you will see that you can come to a full-stop nowhere except at the end. "By means of this little book, we have, in a few months, in spite of many obstacles, learned to speak and write English correctly."