BRARY [ Form No. 20 STATE OF CALIFORNIA. — /^^^.^zcrT^r-iTriZ;!^. School District. RULES AND REG-ULATIONS. 1. The Librarian appointed by the Trustees shall properly label and number each book in tlie District Library, and keep a catalogue of the same, nhowing the title and number of each book. 2. The Library shall be opened for drawing and returning books every .between the hours of_ 3. Every child attending school shall be entitled to the privileges of tlie Library ; but when the number of books is insufficient to supply all the pupils, the Librarian shall determine the mauner in which books may be drawn. 4. No person shall be entitled to two books from the Library at tlie same time, and no fiimily shall draw more than one book wliile other families wishing books i emain unsupplied. 5. No person shall loan a Library book to any one out of his own house, under a penalty of fifty cents for each offense. G. No person shall retain a book from the Library more than two weeks, under a penalty of ten cents for each day he may so retain it; and no pci-son may draw the same book a second time, while any other per- son wislies to draw it. 7. Any person losing or destroying a Library book shall pay the cost of such book and a fine of fifty cents; and any person injuring a book by marking, tearing, or unnecessarily soiling it, shall be liable to a fine of not less than ten cents nor more than the cost of the book, to be deter- mined by tlie Librarian. 8. Any person refusing or neglecting to pay any penalty or fine, shall not be allowed to draw any book from the Library. a. Any piTSon otlier than pupils attending, resident in the school dis- trict, may become entitled to the privileges of the School Library by the payment of an admission fee of one dollar, and a monthly membership of twenty-five cents. JO. Any person resident in the district, who shall pay to the Trustees the sum of ten dollars, shall bo entitled to a Hie membership privilege of the Library. It is the duty of the Clerk of each Board of District Trustees and of the Secri'tary of each Board of Education to place each number of the official educational journal in the School Library of his district on or before the end of the mouth in which such number is issued. Note.— Kacli Library hook must be stamped with the ofHcial District Stamp. (See Seo. 1712, amundod School Law.) Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/exercisesonwordsOOwillrich EXERCISES ON WORDS DESIGNED AS A COURSE OF PRACTICE RUDIMENTS OF GRAMMAR AND RHETORIC, BY WILLIAM RUSSELL, EDITOR OIT THE AMEKTCAN JOURNAL OF EDUCATION, (first SERIES.) BOSTON: WHITTEMORE, NILES, AND HALL. AULWAUKIE : A. WHITTEMOKE AND CO. 1856. IDUCATIOK LIBS, Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by WILLIAM RUSSELL, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massa chusetts. IN PREPARATION, RHETORICAL PRAXIS. A Series of Exercises for Advanced Students in Rhetoric, by the Author of the present Manual. Education Add'l GIFT andover: w. f. draper, 8tere0ttper and printer. /^ IWTBUCTIOH. ^\ (UnlaiiWjttrtUbwyJ wo 7-^ UBi^ Of CONTENTS. Page. Introductory Observations. . 7 Plan op the Course. . 13 Exercise L — Orthoepy . , 21 Introductory Explanations. . 21 Forms of Exercise. . 21 Suggestions to Teachers. . . 22 Suggestions to Students. . 24 Current Errors in Pronunciation . 25 Rules of Orthoepy. . 29 The Pronunciation of Greek and Latin words . 38 The Authority of Walker, as an Ortho- epist. .... . 39 Words peculiarly liable to wrong Ac- cent, in negligent usage. . 41 Words on the Pronunciation of which the weight of authority is nearly bal- anced. .... . 42 Exercise II. — Orthography 44 Eorms of Exercise. . 44 Suggestions. 45 Words of variable Orthography. . 49 Exercise III. — Syllabication. 53 Introductory Explanations. . 53 Exercise 56 Rules on Written Syllabication. 56 Suggestions. 57 405 IV aCONTE NikC iU' Exercise IV. — Etymological Analysis. . . 59 Introductory Explanatidhs. . . 59 Exercises. (1.) Prefixes. . . 62 Suggestions to Teachers. ... 62 (2.) Suffixes. .... 66 Nouns, Adjectives, Verbs. . . 69 (3 ) Primitive and Derivative "Words, and Koots. .... 70 Form of Exercise. . . . , 72 Suggestions to Teachers. . . 73 Exercise V. — Signification and Meaning of "Words. 75 Introductory Explanations. . . 75 Exercise. 77 Exercise VI. — Definition of Words. . . . 79 Introductory Explanations. . . 79 Exercise 81 Suggestions to Students. . . 82 Exercise VII. — Synonyms. 83 Introductory Explanations. . 83 Exercises. (1.) The collecting of Sy- nonyms. ..... 85 Example. 86 (2.) Application of Synonyms. . 87 Example. ..... 87 (3.) Definition of Synonyms. . . 91 Example. 92 (4.) Discrimination of Synonyms. . 94 Examples 97 Exercise VIII. — Supplying Ellipses. . . .101 Exercise. 101 Suggestions to Teachers. . .101 Suggestions to Students. . . 102 Examples. 102 (1.) Omission of Nouns. . . 103 (2.) Of Adjectives 103 (3.) Of Verbs 104 Elliptical Exercise on Synonyms. . 105 CONTENTS. V Exercise IX. — Variation of Expression. . . 107 Introductory Explanations. . . 107 Exercise. 110 Suggestions to Teachers. . . .110 Suggestions to Students. . . ill Exercise X. — Analysis op Composition. . .115 Introductory Explanations. . . 11.5 Example 116 Exercises. (1.) Logical Analysis : Theme, Topics, Method, Scope. . 118 (2.) Rhetorical Analysis : " Ideas," " Eloquence," Style. . . .120 (3.) Grammatical Analysis : Struc- ture, Phraseology, Choice of Words. 122 Explanatory Observations. . . 125 Subjects for Exercises in Analysis. . . . 129 Extract 1. Truth Bacon. 129 " 2. Learning. . .... Id. 132 " 3. Conditious of Study. . . . Locke. 134 " 4. Love of Truth. . . . . Locke. 136 " 5. Aids to the Acquisition of Knowledge. Locke. 189 " 6. Employment of Time. . . Addison. 142 " 7. The Immortality of the Soul. . Addison. 146 " 8. Wisdom of Providence. . - Addison. 150 " 9. Good Intentions Addison. 154 " 10. Paradise Lost Johnson. 157 " 11. Metaphysical Poetry. . . . Johnson. 159 " 12. Parallel between Pope and Dryden. Johnson. 163 " 13. Advantage of reformatory over penal legisla- tion Goldsmith. 167 " 14. Present Suffering enhances the prospect of fu- ture Eelicity. . . . Goldsmith. 170 " 15. True Respectability. Benjamin Franklin. 173 " 16. Ridicule. . . Benjamin Eranklin. 176 " 17. The Ugly Leg. . Benjamin Eranklin. 177 " 18. Luxury, Idleness, and Industry. Eranklin. 180 1# VI CONTENTS. Extract 19. The Influence of professional Associations on the sense of Beauty. Rev. Dk. Alison. 184 " 20. The Beauty of the Human Form. Rev. Dr. Alison. 187 " 21. Autumnal Reflections. Washington Irving. 191 " 22. Female Character. Washington Irving. 194 " 23. A voyage up the Hudson, in the olden time. Washington Irving. 196 " 24. Poetry . William Ellery Channing. 199 " 25. Permanence of Literary Monuments. . . 203 Montgomery. " 26. Circumstances under which Milton wrote Para- dise Lost, and the Sonnets. Macaulay. 204 APPENDIX 209 Oral Lessons 209 Introductory Explanations, designed for Pupils sufficiently ad- vanced for the study of Grammar 209 Lesson 1. — Language. .... . 209 Lesson 2. — Thoughts, — Ideas. 210 Lessons. — Propositions, — their Parts. , . . 211 Lesson 4. — Sentences 212 Lesson 5. — Clauses 214 Lesson 6. — Phrases. 215 Lesson 7. — Words, Syllables, Letters. . . , 216 Lessons. — Orthoepy 217 Lesson 9. — Orthography 218 Introductory Explanations, designed for very young Pupils. 219 Lesson I. — Grammar 219 Lesson 2. — Language 220 Lessons. — Words 221 Lesson 4. — Compound Words 222 Lesson 5. — Syllables 223 Lesson 6. — Letters 224 INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. The following manual, published at the request of teachers who wish to adopt the methods which it exemplifies, embodies the first part of the Authors usual course of oral and written exercises, designed to accompany the successive steps of the pu- pil's progress in the study of our own language. The work is intended to aid in rendering the teaching of English grammar and the rudiments of rhetoric, a strictly practical course of train- ing, by leading the pupil to apply the principles presented in the oral instructions of his teacher, and the prescribed lessons of his grammatical and rhetorical text-books, to immediate use, in a series of written exercises, requiring an attentive study and an exact analysis of words. The design of these exercises, in detail, may be seen, by reference to the plan of the course, on a subsequent page. It may be sufficient, here, to say, that the series comprises, in addition to practice in orthoepy, the analysis of words with re- ference to their orthography and etymology, their consequent signiji- (7) 8 INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. cation, their appropriate definitions, their distinctive shades of mean- ing, and their comparative value in expression. — This analytical course of study is accompanied by one oi practical exemplifications, in the appropriate and discriminating use of words, in phrases and sentences, with a view to prepare the young student for the correct and effective expression of his own thoughts, and for the right interpretation and reception of those of others, through the me- dium of language. A closing exercise in the analysis of composi- tion, is added, to complete the course of the study of words, by extending it to practice in the choice of expression, as an elemen- tary branch of rhetoric. Material for this and other exercises, is furnished in the selection of essays and extracts, from eminent writ- ers, whose style is marked by peculiar skill, or by felicity, in the use of language, with reference to a characteristic choice of words. The exercises prescribed in the following pages, are designed, principally, as a course of practice for classes occupied with the study of English grammar, or of rhetoric. They may be adapted, however, by oral instruction from the teacher, so as to furnish an interesting and useful preparatory training for pupils who are yet too young for the formal study of grammar. Examples of oral lessons of this description, may be found in the Appendix. Even the youngest classes of readers may be advantageously employed on the orthoepy, the orthography, the analysis and derivation, the definition and the use of words, and in the composition of phrases and sentences. The only point requiring the special assistance of the teacher, to enable the pupils of such classes to perform the • whole series of these exercises, will be found to lie in the deriva- tion of words, and the recognition of their roots, when these are taken from the ancient or from foreign languages. This part of the word-exercises of young pupils, may, at the convenience of the teacher, be made matter of oral instruction from himself, or INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 9 may be inscribed on the blackboard, by his own hand, or that of a pupil of advanced standing, till, by progress in years and capa- city, the learner can be classed with those who make use of a dic- tionary large enough to furnish the derivation of such words. It is unquestionably true, that one great fault in school train- ing, has, in past years, been the custom of commencing the for- mal study of grammar too early. The subject being, by this inju- dicious course, placed beyond the mental reach of the young be- ginner, could only be followed mechanically and listlessly ; and the mind, forestalled in its working, was precluded from the plea- sure which it might otherwise have enjoyed, by taking up the study of grammar intelligently and effectively, at a proper stage of its own development. The instructor has, too often, been anxious to teach the science of grammar before the pupil has had any opportunity^ of becoming acquainted with the facts and the principles of language. But these are the very ground on which the foundation of grammatical instruction must be laid ; they are, in fact, — when systematically arranged and classified, — them- selves, the science of grammar, from which the art of correct ex- pression is, in due season, to be drawn. The analytic method of presenting the subject of grammar, — originally introduced in the schools of Germany, subsequently in those of England, and, more recently, by Professors Alpheus Crosby and S. S. Greene, in those of our own country, — is doing much to revolutionise our modes of teaching, in this department, and to diffuse more philosophic and rational views on the whole subject of grammatical instruction. To the benefits, however, ' arising from the use of any text-book, an extensive course of practical grammar, requiring the actual study and use of language, in daily exercises, is an important addition, without which, little progress can be made towards the acknowledged end of grammar, 10 INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. as the art of speaking and writing with propriety.* On the pro- cesses of actual training in the use of language we can hardly commence too early. The youngest pupil of a reading class, is ready not only for the exercise of framing simple and short phrases and sentences, but of learning how to study and use words with discernment. His spelling-book, or his vocabulary, should, by the skill of his teacher, be converted into a rich cabi- net of specimens, which it is a delight to examine and to handle. A class of students, quite different in age and attainments from those just mentioned, will, it is hoped, find the course of exercises prescribed in the following pages adapted to the higher purposes of self-culture, with reference to the formation of style. The most critical knowledge of rhetoric, is of little service for the actual business of composition, much less for that of living instruction, when it is not followed by constant practice in expression, both written and oral. The few exercises in this department, which the routine of academic and college instruction demands, are utterly insufficient, as a preparation for the requirements of after life. Persevering personal application, for successive years, is the only Condition on which a ready command of accurate and impressive language can be acquired. In this, as in any other art, it is the patient and repeated practice of elementary exercises, which alone can give expertness. Our existing modes of education, as re- gards our own language, are so exceedingly limited and imper- fect, that, in the course of nearly forty years' experience in pub- lic and in private instruction, in the department of rhetoric, the author of the present work has found few individuals, either among practical teachers, or the graduates of our colleges, whose lan- * The Grammar of Composition, by Messrs. Tower and Tweed, now furnishes a manual admirably adapted to the general purposes of grammatical training, in practical forms. INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 11 guage, would bear the test, when tried by the standard of mere grammatical or even orthographical accuracy. The exercises sug- gested, in this manual, to the student of rhetoric, may seem, some- times, of too elementary a character to be practically useful. But it is in these rudimental forms of culture and discipline, that our established forms of education are most deficient ; and prac- tice in these is what is most needed in the processes of training for the purpose of forming correct habit. Since the Author first adopted the following plan of exercises on words, in the year 1820, and published a part of it in his Grammar of Composition, in 1824, many valuable contributions to this department of education, have been furnished by eminent instructors, in England and in the United States. But, hitherto, these have been written on detached branches of the subject 5 and they arc accessible only in numerous separate volumes ; — both of which circumstances are a serious inconvenience to the teach- er who wishes to give unity, and compactness, and tangible form, to his methods of instruction. — The present work, — as may bo observed, from its form and plan, — is but a suggestive outline, to which the skill of the teacher and the diligence of the student, are to give life and value. With such aids, it will, the author hopes, prove useful in all seminaries in which English grammar and rhetoric are taught. Its highest purpose will have been fully served, if it help to attract, in any instance, an early and earnest attention to the study of the noble language which it is our privi- lege, as a people, to inherit and to use, and which certainly re- quires, in the processes of instruction, a degree, at least, of that sedulous attention to practical training, in its various forms, which every classical teacher claims as due to the proper study of the ancient languages. — No department of education furnishes a more excellent intellectual discipline than this for the young 12 INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. mind, a more useful accomplishment for the purposes of daily- life, or a more eft'ective process for the cultivation and develope- ment of taste. An early intelligent appreciation of a language so copious, so forcible, and so varied in character as the English, ensures a discriminating and genuine relish, in after life, for the masterpieces of its unrivalled literature, so fraught with all the purest and most auspicious elements of moral influence. The study of language extends over so many and so widely different stages of education, that, to present an appropriately graduated series of exercises on words, it was necessary to era- brace a corresponding diversity in the subjects comprised in the present volume. To lay out the whole field of culture, in this de- partment, in its natural unity, and, at the same time, its proper extent, the plan must include matter adapted to strictly elemen- tary instruction, to successive steps of progress, and to advanced attainments. . As a manual for teachers occupied with classes in all these diversified conditions, it became necessary that the fol- lowing pages should embrace a wide variety of exercises, from which individuals might make such selections as the circumstan- ces of their own classes might seem to require. An incidental aid was also to be proffered, in the plan of the work, to students pur- suing a course of self-culture in expression, by furnishing them with material adapted to their personal purposes. — These ex- planations will, it is thought, be sufficient to account for the great difference of character in the contents of this volume, in which, as a mere handbook of exercises, considerations of symmetry and taste are necessarily sacrificed to the claims of practical utility. r-. EXERCISES ON WORDS. PLAN OF THE COURSE. The object in view in the course of exercises prescribed in the following pages, is to secure a thorough knowledge and expert use of the words of our language, as regards, (I.) Orthoepy, or the correct pronunciation of words, as they address the ear. (11.) Orthography, or the correct mode of spelling them, in written form, presented to the eye. (III.) Visible Syllabication, or the proper mode of dividing words into syllables, to the eye^ for the purpose of guiding the voice to the proper sound to the ear. Thus, the word rec-re-a-tion is properly so divided in the columns of the spelling-book, and in the or- thoepical columns of the dictionary, in which the in- tention is to suggest, through the eye, the oral divi- sion into syllables, as presented to the ear, in the orthoepy, or correct pronunciation of the word ; the term rec-re-aiion having, by the law of usage, a meaning quite different from that of the term re- creation. 2 (13) 14 EXERCISES ON WORDS. (IV.) Etymological Analysis, or the division of words into their component parts, according to their meaning suggested to the mind^ or the process of tracing the composition and derivation of words ; — (1.) resolving compound words into the simple words of which they are composed; (2.) detaching the initial and final syllables of a word, according to their significance as prefixes and affixes^ or suffixes ; and, (3.) tracing the root^ — the original term or syllable, — which is the main significant element of a word, and deter- mines its meaning and application. Thus, the word used in a preceding paragraph, as an example of oral syllabication, when it is subject- ed to etymological analysis, and resolved into its component elements of signification, suggested to the mind, although properly pronounced rec-reation, is divided thus re-creat-ion ; re- being \he prefix^ -ion the svffix, and -creat- the root of the word. (V.) The Signification and Meaning of WORDS. Under the former of these heads is comprehended the exercise of tracing, wherever practicable, the import of a word to its primary sense, — the significance of its primitive elements of composition or of derivation : under the latter, that of stating the secondary, or actual sense, whether modified or otherwise, in which it is em- ployed in the current usage of our own day. We learn, thus, that the written word recreation signifying, originally, creating again, or anew, and originally pronounced re-creation, though subsequent- ly, rec-reation, implies a reference to that newness, or freshness, of feehng, wliich attends exercise PLAN OF THE COURSE. 15 properly taken for relaxation or amusement, and causes the person previously worn out or exhausted, to feel as if created anew, — or, in customary phrase, " made over again." The actual current meaning of the word, however, regards the act, rather than the purpose, of recreative exercise, and applies it in- discriminately to all forms of amusement, play, or sport, without reference to their eiFect on body or mind. (VI.) Definition, — by which the signification of a word is verified by reference to a description of the object, or a definition of the idea, which it represents. Thus, the word recreation may, in consistency with its etymology, be properly defined as the renovation of hodily and mental condition, by change of occupa- tion; or, in accommodation to its customary accepta- tion, as exercise taken for purposes of pleasure rather than utility. (VII.) Synonyms. The exercises practised un- der this head, comprise, (1.) a collection of all the words of our language, which have nearly the same signification with that of a given word ; (2.) the application of these, individually and dif- ferentially, in phrases or sentences so worded that no other member of the given family of sy- nonyms could, with propriety, be substituted for the one embodied in the illustration ; (3.) the de- finition of synonyms, by a common general term, used as a test to prove their general unity of mean- ing, by their actual relation to one and the same primary idea, expressed by that term in its most comprehensive sense; (4.) the discrimination of 16 EXERCISES ON WORDS. synonymous words, by a statement of the distinc- tion founded on the specific difference of their im- port, evolved by logical definition. Of these four forms of exercise the following may serve as examples. (1.) Collection of Synonyms. — "Recreation," — exercise, diversion, relaxation, amusement, enter- tainment, interlude, pastime, play, game, sport, frohc. (2.) Application of Synonyms. — " It is not enough that we allow sufficient time for rest, and for relaxa- tio7i from the severity of intense application. Both body and mind require recreation, to renew their vitality and restore their energy, when wearied or worn by monotony, or exhausted by exertion. When the faculties have become torpid by long-continued inaction, they even require active exercise, for the renewal of their force. Long-sustained mental ap- plication must be relieved by resort to diversion. Profound thought on grave subjects, intense medita- tion, the solution of intricate problems, the prosecu- tion of abstruse investigations, the performing of complicated calculations, must give place, occasion- ally, to amusement, if we would retain that very power of cogitation which we wish to exert. If our amusement take the form of a pleasant social pas- time, it will be all the more salutary. The man who does not wish to become stiff in body, and rigid in mind, must accustom himself to play, and to games which tend to give phancy and grace combined with strength. The gravest senator is not out of place, when taking part in the sports or even the frolics of children. Such interludes unbend the sternness of manhood, and not only give entertainment to the fancy, and animation to the spirits, but meUorate the heart, and refresh our whole being." (3.) Definition of Synonyms. — Generic or general term, — Exercise. Recreation, renovating exercise ; PLAN OF THE COURSE. 17 Diversion, s2:>ortive exercise ; Relaxation, restorative remission of exercise ; Amusement, entertaining ex- ercise ; Entertainment, amusive inental exercise ; In- terlude, intervening amusive exercise ; Pastime, fes- tive form of exercise ; Play, pleasurable exercise ; Game, regulated amusive exercise ; Sport, animating exercise ; Frolic, exhilarating exercise. (4.) Discrimination of Synonyms. Recreation (a) : Diversion (b). Distinction, found- ed on the difference between general (a) and parti- cular (b). Exemplification : " Diversion does not al- ways prove a wholesome form of recreation^ Recreation (a) : Relaxation (b). Distinction, — difference between action and remission ; e. g. " The restorative influence of relaxation, to the weary, ren- ders it, sometimes, preferable to the most enlivening recreationy Amusement (a) : Entertainment (b). Distinction, — difference between ^e^eraZ (a) and particular (b) ; e. g. " Theatrical entertainments were the chief form of popular amusement among the Athenians." Pastime (a): Interlude (b). Distinction, — dif- ference between continuous 'progression (a) and in- terruption (b); e.g. "The masques and pageants, and similar pastmes, of the middle ages, were inter- spersed with frequent interludes, designed to relieve the attention and enliven the feelings of the spec- tators." Play (a): Game (b). Distinction, — difference he- tween general (a) and particular (b) ; e. g. " The healthful effect of play is aided by its taking the re- gulated form of a game!' Sport (a): Frolic (b). Distinction, — difference m degree of activity ; e. g. " The boys' sport soon end- ed in the most uproarious /ro/ic." (VIII.) The Supplying of Ellipses, — the replacing of words intentionally omitted in the 2# 18 EXERCISES ON WORDS. form of exercise prescribed, which is designed to furnish opportunity for practice and discipline in the appropriate and discriminating use of words. Eaximple. — " The hours of the afternoon were passed in very [ 1 ] society, and in very [ 2 ] occupation. Some of the party had just received the [ 3 ] inteUigence of the health and prosperity of near relatives abroad. The [ 4 ] approach of evening heightened the glow of [ 5 ] feeling in the social circle around the parlor fire; yet all re- ceived with pleasure the unexpected and [ 6 ] in- vitation to a sleigh-ride by moonlight." [1] agreeable, [2] pleasing, [3] gratifying, [4] wel- come, [5] cheerful, [6] acceptable. (IX.) Variation of Expression, — the trans- lation of selected passages into words nearly equivalent in signification. This process is de- signed, as a practical exercise in etymology, of which the main, though not the exclusive, object, is, to train the student to a ready recognition of the difference between idiomatic and unidiomatic expression, as dependent on the preponderance of words of Saxon or of Latin origin, in the phraseology of sentences, and the consequent character of style. Example. — There are frequently mornings in " " often early hours " March, when an admirer of nature may enjoy, a " day, " a lover " " " expe- in a stroll, sensations not to be exceeded, or, rience *' " ramble, feelings " " " surpassed " perhaps, equalled by any thing which the full it may be, paralleled, " aught " " glory of summer can awaken, — morn- ample splendor " midsummer " excite, " PLAN OF THE COURSE. 19 ings which tempt us to cast the memory of " " solicit " " throw " remembrance " winter, or the fear of its recurrence out the winter months, " " dread " their return " of our minds. The air is mild and balmy, " " thoughts. " atmosphere " bland " fragrant, with, now and then, a cool gush by no means un- " occasionally, " fresh rush not dis- pleasant, but on the contrary, contributing towards agreeable, " rather conducive to that pecuhar and cheering feehng which we " special " exhilarating sensation " " experience only in spring." feel " " the opening season of the year.* (X.) Analysis of Composition. — Li this de- partment, the study of words is carried into the ele- mentary part of rhetoric, — as a step essential to the completing of a course of exercises on words. The perfect fitness of a word for the purpose of expres- sion, requires, in many cases, attention to something more than merely its etymological signification, or a strictly logical definition of its import. Kegard must be paid to its suggestive power to prompt the ima- gination and touch the heart. Its influence exerted on the mind by the laws of association, must be considered. This relation of language becomes an important object of attention in the discipline which prepares the student for the appreciation not only of the higher strains of eloquence and of poetry, but for the perception of truth, force, or beauty, of ex- pression, in any form of composition. The appropriateness, therefore, of even a single * The design of the above form of exercise, is, as in translat- ing from a foreign language, to give the nearest synonyms to the words of the text, without regard, for the moment, to the comparative inferiority of style necessarily attending the second- ary language of translation, when contrasted with that of the ori- ginal. Substitution of terms, and approximation of sense, are all that we require. 20 EXERCISES ON WORDS. word, becomes justly a subject of study, and a theme for practice, in connection with the requisi- tions of rhetorical criticism, in that department of the science which treats of the different character- istics of style, as prescribed by the nature of different subjects. This inseparable connection between sub- ject, thought, and expression, suggests the necessity of a course of critical training in the analysis of com- position, by which the character of the subject, and the train of thought, suggested by it, are ascertained and defined, with a view to determine the fitness not only of a given style of diction, or form of phraseo- logy, but of a single word to give expression to an idea. The practical exercise in this department, con- sists in the careful analysis of a composition, for the pm'pose of placing clearly before the mind, tJie subject of the piece ; the train of thought fol- lowed by the author ; the character of his ideas, as to their adaptation, in detail, to his subject, and to its developement in expression ; his rheto- rical traits of style^ as harmonising with his theme and his ideas ; and his consequent choice of words, in the details of expression. — This part of a word-exercise will be found more fully stated in the Section headed " Exercise X." EXERCISE I ORTHOEPY. Introductory Explanations.^ — The design of the following exercises, is to secure the benefits of a thorough course of study and practice, in their re- spective branches. The first object, therefore, pre- sented for attention, in the analysis of words, is their orthoepy, or correct pronunciation. This order is adopted not merely because, in actual experience, from infancy onward, the learner has his attention attracted to spoken language before written, but from the fact that, in dictating a word to be spelled, whether orally or in writing, by the pupil, the teacher necessarily gives it out orally ^ and, in the practice of careful instructors, the pupil is directed to repeat the word orally, before spelling it. The learner's atten- tion is thus, whether consciously or unconsciously, directed to the pronunciation of the word, before he can determine its orthography. Form of 'Exercise. — A convenient mode of prescribing the orthoepical part of an exercise on words, is as follows. — The teacher directs the pupils of a class to prepare themselves carefully, beforehand, for the exact pronunciation of every ^ The explanatory observations intended for the student, and the practical suggestions addressed to the teacher, are, throughout this volume, presented in smaller type, and are meant to be i-ead, merely. The exercise to be prescribed, or performed, is uniformly distinguished by larger type. (21) 22 EXERCISES ON WORDS. word in their reading lesson for the day ; so that he may call on any individual for any word se- lected from it, to be discussed in the following manner : (1.) pronouncing the whole word^ with the true, full, and exact sound of every syllable, and of every letter which is not a silent one, in the manner in which the word is properly uttered in public reading or speaking; (2.) enunciating separately, and with perfect distinctness, every syllable of the word, as a group of sounds ; (3.) articulating, with perfect exactness, the sound — not the name — of every letter which is not a silent one, in every syllable, successively ; (4.) after this analysis, repeating the proper pronuncia- tion of the whole word, in a full, clear, distinct, but easy and fluent manner. Suggestions to Teachers. — In the "3d" part of this exercise, the 7iames of letters are superseded by their sounds, and are therefore dropped as unneces- sary in an advanced lesson in orthoepy ; although, in primer and spelling-book lessons, the naming of every letter, and the repetition of every syllable, are equally important, as securities for close attention to details, and for consequent accuracy in pronuncia- tion. Teachers to whom the subject of phonography is familiar, will find the application of that method of indicating orthoepy a useful means of securing defi- nite and exact attention to the true sound of every letter and syllable of a word. The phonographic writing, on the blackboard, of every word of the lesson, selected for practice in orthoepy, may advan- tageously follow the "4th" part of the oral lesson described above. — Teachers who prefer, for the purpose of such an exercise, the use of the orthoepi- cal notation adopted in the dictionaries of Worcester ORTHOEPY. 23 and Webster, will find it serviceable, though not so precise as that employed in the phonographic method. Three classes of words, in lessons on orthoepy, require particular attention: (1.) the frequently re- curring monosyllables, to, of, and, ivith, the, etc., which, owing to their comparative unimportance, are so liable to be slighted or corrupted, through negligence ; (2.) words which are commonly mispronounced in popu- lar and juvenile usage ; and in regard to which the ear is prone to be misled, through the prevalence of false habit; (3.) rare and difficult words, particu- larly proper names. All such words should be brought up more frequently for discussion, and should be more carefully practised, than others, — sometimes in simul- taneous utterance by the whole class. In assigning the daily lesson in orthoepy, the teacher may properly dwell, in anticipation, on such words as are liable to diversity of pronunciation, and prescribe the style which, in his own judgment, is to be pre- ferred. "When conducting the exercise, at the time appropriated for recitation, the teacher may, as a. security for careful previous study, on the part of the pupils, write, in customary orthographical form, se- lected words, on the blackboard, and require of the class, or of an individual, to give successively, as men- tioned before, the pronunciation of the words, the enunciation of their syllables, and the articulation of the sounds of their letters. It will be a useful varia- tion of method to invert the process, and, instead of the analytic form, to adopt the constructive one, and commence with the sounds of the letters, proceed to the enunciation of the syllables, and thence to the pronunciation of the words, successively. It will be found a very useful, as well as highly interesting, form of exercise, to have the pupils themselves, in turn, take, for the time, the place of teacher, and conduct such a lesson as has been de- 24 EXERCISES ON WORDS. scribed. Nothing has a surer tendency to secure attention, and to form correct habits. The orthoepical form of word-exercises, is meant to be a daily virtual review of the work originally done by the learner, in the lessons in oral spelling and syllabication, presented in the successive col- umns of his spelling-book, and to induce him to make constant use of his dictionary, for further guidance. Pupils whose earliest training may have been less accurate or regular than is desirable, will thus be enabled to atone, in degree, for the imperfec- tion of the previous stages of their education, by supplying deficiencies and correcting errors. To all classes of pupils it may be a useful daily exercise to analyse, in the manner suggested, a few lines from the first paragraph of their reading lesson. Suggestion to Students. — To students somewhat advanced, who desire to attain to a systematic ac- curacy in their knowledge and use of the English language, and, more particularly, to such as intend to be occupied in teaching, or in public speaking, a self-appointed task, of a description similar to the foregoing, will prove highly serviceable. — Every teacher should be a competent living authority on every word of our language to which a dictionary can furnish access ; that he may be able to ensure the accuracy of his pupils by liis own intelligent and appropriate exemplification. On all variable and controverted words, as to orthoepy, he should be critically versed in the comparative merits of every style proposed, that he may not be the slave of local prejudice or individual caprice. Worcester's Dic- tionary, or the Harper's edition of Webster's,* will =* The revision which Webster's Dictionary has undergone, in the department of orthoGpy, under the excellent editorial decisions of Professor Goodrich, renders the above-mentioned edition pe- culiarly valuable to teachers and students. Dr. Goodrich's critical judgment and refined taste have left comparatively little ground ORTHOEPY. 25 furnish, in tlieir lists of words liable to different styles, of pronunciation, a useful guide to the requisite knowledge in tliis department of instruction. The importance of attention to early habit, with regard to appropriate style in pronunciation, is evi- dent, not only with respect to the distinctness of articulation which it produces, but the standard of taste and scholarship which it implies, in students and teachers, and, not less, in professional speakers. The prevalent negligence on tliis point, is painfully manifest in the style of many public addresses in which the evidences of culture and refinement were rightly to be expected. The comparative general correctness of American usage in pronunciation, does not extend, in due proportion,^ to the ranks of profes- sional life. Many a speaker who would blush at the inadvertent use of a false quantity in a syllable of Latin or Greek, is not ashamed to betray a slovenly negligence in pronouncing the words of his native tongue. CURRENT ERRORS IN PRONUNCIATION. Suggestions to Teachers. — The general correctness of style with which the English language is spoken in the United States, is freely admitted, even by those whose national prejudices might well be ex- pected to give an unfavorable bias to their judgment. This correctness, however, it ought never to be for- gotten by teachers, is but comparative ; and a faith- ful discharge of the duties of instruction, requires a critical exactness of ear, on the part of those whose business it is to form individual and national habit, in this department of culture. A perfectly correct style of pronunciation, is a of objection, in regard to the peculiarities which formed the only drawback from the value of tlie original work. 26 EXERCISES ON WORDS. thing exceedingly diiRcult of attainment, in any com- munity in which our language is the native tongue of the people. The English language is itself ex- tremely irregular and arbitrary, in its spoken forms. The diversity of elements in its composition, suf- ficiently accounts for this defect. In one English sentence of ordinary length, the reader or speaker is making continual transitions from the characteristic style of utterance in the German class of dialects to the widely diiferent mode prevailing in the Romanic, and, particularly, the French. The spoken lan- guage, moreover, of any nation, even the most highly cultivated, being employed in the daily utterance of all classes of society, — the uncultivated as well as the learned, — is always found below the standard of written expression, which naturally falls, more gen- erally, under the stricter cognisance of educated usage. The comparative neglect, also, of taste and culture, as regards an influence on the style of oral expression, is a fault quite prevalent in most Anglo- Saxon communities. A nervous dread of seeming affectation, has, within the present century, taken the place, both in Old and New England, of the proper attention formerly given, in early training, to the acquisition of a correct and graceful use of lan- guage, as an attainment for which education w^as regarded as responsible. Every one who can recall examples of the style of conversation in the cultivat- ed circles of the preceding period, is ready to attest its superior character, as contrasted with the negh- gence and incorrectness current in our own day. In addition to the various circumstances wliicli have been mentioned as impediments to the attain- ment of a uniform and correct style of spoken lan- guage, the Enghsh tongue labors under yet another, peculiar to itself. It has no universally acknowl- edged standard of decision, to which it can refer in a question of propriety. The stage, when it was ORTHOEPY. 27 trodden by the members of the royal household, — and, on great occasions, by the graduates of univer- sities, and the students of inns of court, — was justly held the model of pronunciation. But that golden age of dramatic literature and dramatic life, has long since passed away. The stage, becoming obsolete itself, inclines to obsolete and exploded usages ; and no standard of practice, for private life, could be pro- posed so revolting to true taste and sound judgment, as that which, by way of disparagement, is termed theatrical. The consentaneous usage of cultivated society, is the sole arbiter, in our day, of matters con- nected with the forms of utterance. The pulpit, the bar, the stage, the legislative hall, and the popular assembly, are all compelled to adopt the style thus imposed. But this law of custom is necessarily very vague, and not always plainly announced, or deci- sively enforced ; and, — as happens in all cases dependent on unity of opinion and action in large bodies of men, — is, to a great extent, inoperative. After all that can be said or done in the matter, a large number of the words in the English language, will ever be liable to a variable style of pronunciation ; and, in such circumstances, no error is greater than that of the rigorist who insists on the monopoly of propriety, and condemns the modes of well sanc- tioned usage, because at variance with his personal opinion and practice. Every attentive observer of national or of local custom, must be aware that, in America, we are liable to the influence of causes which counteract the general tendency to comparative accuracy in our current style of pronunciation. In our New-England States, there is a somewhat extensive prevalence of local peculiarities of usage, inherited from ancestral custom in certain parts of old England, but which are, everywhere else, regarded as obsolete. Some of these are exemplified even in the style of culti- 28 EXERCISES ON WORDS. vated and professional life ; and a few are actually inculcated in the orthoepy of standard dictionaries. The general practice of educated persons in our Middle States, as regards the details of pronuncia- tion, while it avoids prevailing errors of the class just mentioned, is by no means wholly free from pecuHarities of local custom, plainly traceable to the early prevalence of the German language. The pronunciation of our Southern States is characterised by the predominance of an obsolete length and breadth of vowel sounds, such as marked the style of the country gentlemen of England, more than a century ago ; and the spoken language of our West- ern States, is, to a great extent, chargeable with an intermixture of the . local errors of New-England with those of the South. A close, critical attention to perfect purity of style, on the part of teachers, and a careful correction of local errors in juvenile pronunciation, are the only securities for the removal of faults, and for the attainment of that most desirable result of general education, a correct and appropriate use of our native language. The readiness of public sentiment to favor the teacher's office, in this respect, devolves additional responsibleness, on his part, to the duties of his station. In all parts of the national Union, there is a prevaihng disposition to submit to the authority of a recognised standard of orthoepy, and to adopt that of a dictionary, rather than the fluc- tuating and arbitrary one of any living or professional form. But the notation of orthoepy, although given in the most exact of forms, in the columns of a dic- tionary, must ever be interpreted by the voice of the teacher ; and the coiTCctness of his judgment and practice, is necessarily the measure of his pupil's attainments. A few of the prominent principles of orthoepy, wliich are most liable to be neglected in current ORTHOEPY. 29 usage, and some examples of prevailing local error, are here presented as aids to the teacher in his endeavors to form aright the character of early habit in his pupils. RULES OF ORTHOEPY. Sounds of the letter A. I. The vowel a, unaccented, preceding a conso- nant, sounds, properly, as in the word admit. — Ex- amples : Abet, abound, alas, alone, avow, away, cabal, caress, paternity, variety, contrary, customary, obduracy. Errors : [A sounding as in ale,] " Aybet, aybound, aylas, aylone, ayvow, ayway," etc. II. The indefinite article a, and the vowel a, at the end of a word, sound properly as a in admit. — Examples : A man, a book, a place, algebra, diplo- ma, dilemma, Asia, America, Cuba, data, arcana, arena, strata, alpha. Errors: (1.) [A sounding as in ale,] " Algebray, diplomay, dilemmay, etc. Cubay, arcanay," etc. (2.) [Er, for a,] " Cuber, arcaner, arener," etc. III. The sound of a, in the word and, and others of the same class, is, properly, intermediate between that of a, in arm, and that of e, in end. — Examples : And, hand, band, land, can, man, van, add, had, mad, last, vast, past, class, mass, grass. Errors: (1.) [Too nearly,] "End, hend, bend, ken, men, med, lest, vest, cless, mess," etc. (2.) [Too nearly,] " Mass, {a, as in marsh,) last, vast, past, class, mass, grass." IV. The proper sound of a, in words such as bare, air, layer, is neither so broad as that of a, in and, nor so close as that of a, in ale, but coincides with that 3* 30 EXERCISES ON WORDS. of e in there. — Examples : Care, dare, pare, lair, fair, stair, prayer, careful, daring, parent, fairly, staircase, prayerful. Errors: (1.) [Approaching,] " Car', dar', par', car'- ful, parrent, pra'rful." (2.) [Approaching, or abso- lutely,] " Cayer, dayer, payer, cayerful, payrent," etc. E. I. The vowel e, immediately followed by the let- ter r, and a consonant, has a sound intermediate be- tween that of e, in the word end, and that of u, in the word up, — not so close as the former, nor so open as the latter. — Examples : Term, germ, termi- nate, germinate, sermon, servant, perfect, person, mercy, personate, merciful. Errors : " Turm " and " tairm," " jurm " and "jairm," "survant" and " sairvant," "purfect" and "pairfect," "murcy" and "maircy," etc. II. In the combinations, -ed and -el, when they form a final syllable, the vowel e sounds, properly, as i, in it. — Examples : Wicked, crested, hinted, blessed, haunted, founded, rounded, sounded, astounded, ap- pointed ; gospel, quarrel, revel, vessel, model, level, jewel, etc. Errors: [Too nearly thus,] " Wickedd, crestedd, hintedd, blessedd." III. In -et, -est, and -ess, as final syllables, the vowel e retains its sound, as in the word met. — Ex- amples : — Market, trinket, hearest, grandest, bravest, goodness, meekness, righteousness, blessedness. Error: [Changing the sound of e, in met, into that of ^, in it,] " Baskit, markit, trinldt, hearist, grandist, bravist, goodniss, meekniss, righteousniss." 7. I. The vowel i, occurring in monosyllables ending ill e mute, is, properly, a diphthongal sound, com- ORTHOEPY. 31 mencing with that of a, in the word and, and termi- nating in an approach to the sound of e, in eve. — Examples: Isle, mile, vile, ride, side, life, time, vine, bite, rite. Errors: (1.) [Commencing with the sound of a in arm, — giving a broad and di'awling sound to the whole element, — as if expressed thus,] " Mtiel, laef, taem, vaen," etc. — (2.) [Commencing, with nearly the sound of e in end, — causing a flat and mincing sound, — as if expressed thus,] " Meel, leef, teem, veen," etc. II. The vowel i, unaccented, preceding a conso- nant, sounds, properly, as in the word it. — Examples : Direct, diverge, divest, divert, minuteness, dimen- sion, divulge, diversify, pliilosopher, philosophical. Errors : [ Jsounding as in mile,] " Di-rect, di-verge, di-vest, mi-nuteness," etc. 0. I. The vowel o, in monosyllables ending with silent e, is, properly, a long sound, as in the name of the letter, itself — Examples : Cone, lone, bone, stone, home, whole, hope. Errors : [Nearly,] " Bon, ston, hom, hoi, hop." II. O, in such words 2J& force, source, etc., has, pro- perly, its long, close sound, as in rose. — Exampfles : Force, forge, ford, forth, source, sword, course, hoarse, resource, fourteen. Errors : [Too nearly,] " Fawrce, sawrce, sawrd, hawi'se," etc. III. O, in such words, as or, nor, etc., has, proper- ly, a sound intermediate between o, in 07i, and a, in aU. — Examples : Or, nor, orb, cord; lord, short, storm, com, north, torch. Errors : (1.) [Too nearly,] *' Oar, noar, oarb, coard, loard," etc. [Too nearly,] " Ar, nar, arb, card, lard," etc. 82 EXERCISES ON WORDS. IV. O, in such words as not, nod, etc., has, pro- perly, a sound which is never capable of being con- founded with that of o, in old, nor with that of a, in and. — Examples : Not, lot, sod, god, loss, toss, lost, tossed, off, oft, soft, soften, often. Errors : (1.) [Too nearly,] " Goad, loass, toassed, oaff, soaft," etc. (2.) [Too nearly,] " Gad, lass, tassed, aff, saft," etc. V. In the termination -or, the vowel o takes, pro- perly, the sound of o, in done. — Examples : Creator, spectator, speculator, operator, factor, numerator. Errors : Sounding the o of these and similar words, as in the word or, and as in the Latin words creator, spectator, etc., in which a partial accent justly falls on the final syllable, thus distinguishing these words from the English ones of the same orthography. U. I. The vowel u, occurring in monosyllables end- ing in silent e, and in many words in which it occurs before a single consonant, sounds, properly, as the whole pronominal word t/ou. — Examples : Cube, tube, lute, mute, tune, flute, duke, dupe, flume, plume, spume, duty, dutiful, student, stupid, constitute, in- stitute, constitution, revolution, institution. Errors: — (1.) " Toob, loot, toon, floot, dook, dooty, stoodent, stoopid, constitoot, institoot, constitootion, revolootion, institootion." — (2.) [Nearly thus,] " Ta- yoob, layoot, tayoon, flayoot, frayoot, rayool, consti- tayoot," etc. II. The vowel u, occurring as above, but imme- diately followed by the letter r, takes, properly, the sound of 00 in rood, or of oo in root. — Examples : Rule, rude, crude, prune, brute, fruit, true, rural, brutal, truly, prudish. Errors : " Rayool " and " ryule ", " rayood " and " ryude ", " crayood " and " cryude ", " prayoon " and ORTHOEPY. 33 " pryime ", "' brayoot " and " bryiite ", " frayoot " and " fryuit ", " trayoo " and " tryue ", etc. Note. The diiFerence between these errors, is merely that which characterises the former as the style of rural life, and the latter as that of the edu- cated class, in the local style of New England. But the unfortunate sanction of Webster's, and even of Worcester's dictionary, tends to introduce it in schools in other parts of the Union, and justly causes offence to the ear, as a recognised peculiarity of the pro- nunciation of our Eastern States, wliich even the actor on the stage takes pains to introduce, as a means of giving hfe-like reahty to his delineations of local character. The Diphthongs 01 and OY. Rule. The sound of the diphthongs oi and oy, commences properly with the sound of a in o?\ — Examples : Oil, boil, toil, coil, boy, joy, toy, hoy, re- coil, turmoil, rejoice, avoid, joyful. Error: [The sound commencing with that of o in old^ " Oil, boil, toil, coil, boy, joy, recoil, rejoice, avoid." OJJand OW. Rule. The diphthongs ou, in such words as ou7% and aiv, in such words as dow7t, commence, properly, to the ear, with the sound of o in such words as do7ie, come, etc. — Examples : Our, bound, found, ground, count, account, recount, how, now, down, gown, town, scowl. Errors : (1.) J Commencing with nearly the sound of a in arm,] " Aur, baund, faund, haoo, naoo, daoon," etc. (2.) ^[Commencing with a sound like that of e in end,] " Eur, beund; feund, heu, neu, deun, keunt, ackeunt, skeul." 84 EXERCISES ON WORDS. Tfie Letter R. Rules. I. The letter r, when it precedes a vowel, has a clear, firm, distinct, but brief and compacted sound, called, by Walker, the rough r. — Examples : Rap, rack, ray, rave, reed, rice, rod, run, rural, ruin, library, roaring, rearing, brace, dread, fresh, grand, drum, proud, tread. Errors : (1.) [Softening, mufihng, or obscuring the sound, by feebleness or slackness of articulation. It is impossible, by any combination of letters, to indi- cate this sound. Its effect on the ear, is, to give the impression of childish or morbid weakness of organ in the speaker.] (2.) [Rolling, or prolonging and unduly roughening, the sound of this element, in the style of foreign languages, or of theatrical utterance. Sometimes represented thus,] " Rrap, rrack, rray, rrave, derread, derrum, terread." Unaccented Syllables. Rule. In unaccented syllables, the sounds of let- ters should neither be skipped, nor sunk into ob- scurity, nor protruded. Note. Syllables which orthoepists, in some in- stances, mention as being " obscure ", are, properly, only shortened in duration, and diminished in force, but never slurred so as to change the character of the predominating letter, or substitute one for an- other. Examples : Initial SyUahles, — Abate, abide, adore, before, belate, compose, condemn, collect, correct, corrupt, perform, perfume, perforce, propel, produce, promote, secure, seclude. Errors : " Ubbate " and " aybate ", " ubbide " and " aybide ", " buffore " and " beefore ", " cumpose " and " com-pose ", " d'ny " and " deeny ", " currect " ORTHOEPY. 3d and "cor-rect", "pufform" and "per-form", " prii- pel " and " pro-pel ", " s'cure " and " seecure." Examples: Middle and Penultimate Syllables, — Every, several, murderer, utterance, traveller, delib- erate, desperate, history, rhetoric, memory, mem- orable, melancholy, desolate, articulate, accuracy, re- gular, masculine, melody, custody, eloquence, obso- lete, obstinate, society, sobriety, anxiety, variety, alarming, disarming, returning, discerning, worldUng, reverberate. Errors : " Ev'ry, sev'ral, murd'rer, travller, des- p'rate, hist'ry, mem'ry, melanch'ly, reg'lar, meliidy, sociuty, ala'ming, woldling ", etc. Examples : Final Syllahles, — Travel, gravel, ves- sel, level, novel, model, musical, comical, critical, capital, metal, ecclesiastical, fatal, fantastical, princi- pal, certain, fountain, mountain, horizon, motion, no- tion, diapason, moment, dependent, confidence, gov- ernment, equipment, providence, parliament, ascend- ant, perseverance, defiance, motto, fellow, window, meadow, billow, waking, morning, running, singing, walking, warrior, daystar, before, flower, reindeer, alarm, return, depart, departure, murmur, character, nature, feature, creature, measure, pleasure, invinci- ble, incredible, perceptible, special, judicial, artificial, invasion, confusion, adhesion, division, dimension, profession, option, addition, Indian, tedious, odious, fastidious, chasm, schism, witticism, patriotism, phan- tasm. Errors : " TraVl, graVl, vess'l, music'l, comic'l, critic'l, princip'l, fat'l, cert'n, fount'n, mount'n, horiz'n, mosh'n, nosh'n, dependunt, confidunce, gover'munt, feller, winder, meader, mornin', nmnin', singin', daysta', ala'm, depa't, depatsha, cha'ata, nacha, feacha, creddubble, speciul, invazh'n, divizh'n, In- jun, tejus, ojus, chasum, patriotisum." 36 EXERCISES ON WORDS. The luord Mij. Rule. The y of the word my, in familiar and unemphatic phrases, is, properly, shortened into the sound of i and y, in the word city. This modification, however, should never extend so far as to make the sound of the letter y, in this word, identical with that of e, in the word me. The former style is ap- propriate, as contrasted with emphatic, full, formal, or solemn expression, in which the y is properly given with the long name sound of the vowel ?", as in the word mile. The latter style is merely an accident of foreign usage, which has gained a local currency in some parts of our own country. The word The. Hide. The letter e, in the definite article, changes its sound, in accommodation to easy utterance, ac- cording to the character of the sound which imme- diately follows it, in the body of any phrase. Before a word beginning v/ith a vowel, it has, properly, a sound like that of e, m. the word emit : before a con- sonant, its proper sound is that of e, in the word term. — Examples : The arm, the elk, the isle, the oak, the upland, the ofl^set, the effect, the arrow, the owl, the ape ; — the boy, the man, the hand, the head, the hill, the house, the town, the soldier, the book, the place, the parent, the shepherd, the clouds, the way, the war, the west, the wish, the youth, the year, the yam. Exceptions : (1.) When the definite article occurs before a word commencing with the letter e, sound- ing as in eve, or the letter i, sounding as in it, the e, of the word the, has, properly, the same sound as before a word beginning with a consonant. — Ex- amples : The ear, the eve, the east, the eel, the inn, the interior, the inn-keeper, the idiot, the interval. ORTHOEPY. 37 (2.) Wlieii the occurs before a word, commencing with a vowel sounding as u, in the word up, or with any one approaching to that sound, the e of the, re- verts to the sound, of e in emit. — Examples : Tiic utterance, the utmost, the upper, the upshot, the unworthy, the unthankful ; — the ermine, the earth, the earnings. (3.) When the occurs before a word commencing with the sound of ii, in the word use, the e of tJie, takes the same sound as before a consonant. Exam- ples: The universe, the union, the university, the unicorn, the eulogy, the European, the euphony, the unanimity. Words the pronunciation of ivhich is properly depend- ent on individual taste and preference. Kind, guide, guard, sky, etc. — A very delicate, brief, and slight sound, resembling that of the letter y, in the word yet, is sanctioned by the best authority, as following the letters k and g, in these words. American usage inclines, in some instances of this class of words, to the prevalent style of Scotland, which omits the slight sound referred to, and, in others, to an exaggerated protrusion of that sound. Grandeur, odious, tedious, Indian, educate, gradual, verdure, etc. Nature, feature, creature, curvature, sig- nature, fortune, fortunate, etc. — In these classes of words, a slight softening of the sounds of d and t, which makes them approach, although not quite reach, the articulation of the consonantal combina- tions dzh and tsh, is sanctioned by the best authority. In these, as in the instances mentioned above, the error of taste hes m carrying the modified sound to excess, which is a prominent trait in the enunciation of the public speakers of Ireland. American usage, wherever the standard of Walker is adopted, inclines to this style; and, where Walker is rejected, it adopts 4 S|$ EXERISES ON WORDS. the comparatively hard and Hteral mode of articu- lation prevalent in Scotland, which preserves the sounds of d and t unmodified. Pronunciation, as modified hy Rhyme. The word wind, and a few others, are sometimes, in poetic usage, properly, allowed, for the sake of rhyme, an older style of pronunciation than is now current. This poetic license is an accorded privilege of orthoepy, with which the reader is not at liberty to dispense ; as the infringement would rob the poet of his right. The courtesy due to poets, however, is not to be stretched to desperate extremes, as in the case of the words duly, truly, etc., when introduced by comparatively modern writers, in affected antique style, and apparently demanding, for the y in these words, the sound of i, in the word lie. On the other hand, the appropriate reading of poets of the earliest period of our literature, requires that the antique and obsolete style be preserved throughout, as essen- tial alike to rhythm and to rhyme. A modern pro- nunciation would, in such reading, destroy the music of many of the most purely poetic passages of our literature. The pronunciation op Greek and Latin words. General Rules. (I.) Greek and Latin proper names, and Greek and Latin words generally, when occurring singly, in the reading of English sentences, may be pronounced with the characteristic sounds of letters given as in English words containing simi- lar syllabic combinations. — Examples: Achaia, Asia, Mesopotamia, Africanus, Coriolanus, Corioli, Veil datum, stratum, via, bronchitis, etc. Exception — Ch, in Greek and Latin words, have ORTHOEPY. 39 uniformly the sound of ch in chasm. — Examples : Charta, Archipelago, Archimedes. II. In the reading of Latin quotations, extending to clauses and sentences, the vowels a and i occurring in Latin words, in such positions as, in English words, would require them to sound as in ale and isle, may, at the discretion of the reader or the teacher, be enun- ciated with these sounds, or with those of a, in arm, and of z, in magazine ; both modes of pronunciation being sanctioned, or permitted, in our colleges. Note. — The former of these styles, although sanc- tioned by the authority of Oxford, is, to all the nations of Europe, but England, an unnatural and revolting barbarism, entirely subversive of the ap- propriate music of utterance in the ancient languages. Our New-England colleges are, at length, beginning to recede so far from this objectionable style as to permit the continental forms of orthoepy, in the reading of Greek and Latin. In our Middle States, the purity of the continental style is sometimes marred by an unwarrantable license, which introdu- ces the Oxford sound of z, in the same word, perhaps, with the continental broad a. The word RomAini, transmuted by this system of compromise, becomes neither the venerable " Romanee" of antiquity, nor the Anglicised, self-consistent " Romani," but a species of "modern antique" in utterance, — " Romani." The Authority of Walker, as an Orthoepist. The fact, that the owners of the copyright of Walker's dictionary, found it necessary, some years ago, to employ Mr. Smart of London, an eminent instructor and elocutionist, to revise the work, be- cause the style of pronunciation indicated by its author, had, in some classes of words, become obso- 40 EXERCISES ON WORDS. lete, proves the falsity of the opinion that American usage ought to be kept uniformly and rigorously to Walker's standard. It should never be forgotten by teachers, however, that the interpretation of this fact does not warrant the entire rejection of Walker's authority, in the headlong and rash manner which is sometimes exemplified, and which scouts the de- cisions of Walker as, in any case, binding, or even well founded. Walker's authority was respectfully acknowledged by the most learned and the most ac- complished men of his day, as decisive on all points, with the exception of a few of the changes which he wished to introduce, and in which he was not fol- lowed by the sanction of custom. — At the distance of more than half a century from the period of Walker's ascendency, and in our capacity as a distinct and independent nation, we may justly be expected to claim a yet wider hberty of opinion, taste, and practice, than the people of England; and, while Walker's dictionary still holds a respectable place in our regard, we may well be allowed to modernise our current style of pronunciation, by the aids of Smart and Reid, and those, also, of our own country- men, Dr. Worcester and Professor Henry Reed, — and, in all cases in which American usage is univer- sal, and not merely local, to follow our own national mode, in preference to any other. The two British authors, mentioned above, have furnished valuable aids to instruction in their respec- tive dictionaries. That of Smart gives a faithful report of the usage of cultivated speakers, at the present day, in the city of London : Reid's presents a more general style, — that which may be said to characterise the pronunciation of educated persons, throughout the British isles, who have freed their manner from local peculiarities. Reid's dictionary'", accordingly, is found in extensive use in the normal schools and higher seminaries of Great Britain. The ORTHOEPY. 41 late Professor Henry Reed, of Philadelphia, rendered an invaluable service to the interests of education, by his careful re-editing of that work, not less than by his constant exertions, in other forms, to cherish, among the students of our higher seminaries of learning, a taste for the study of English literature Words peculiarly liable to wrong Accent, in negligent usage. The principle by which the teacher should be guided in determining the rule of accent, in the fol- lowing and similar instances, is the preponderance of authority. The conflicting decisions of different or- thoepists, sometimes, unfortunately, lead to the con- clusion that the adoption of any of the proposed modes, in a given case, is a matter of indifference. But tliis should be the result only when authorities are exactly or nearly balanced. In whatever case one or two names only are adduced in favor of a given style, while all others stand opposed to it, the minority, — no matter how eminent, — are necessarily, for the moment, in the wrong; since in this, as in all other points concerning language, the question is one of usage and fact, — not of theory or opinion. Ab'attis ^ abdo'men address' alco've alter'nate ambusca'de antip'odes a'rea bombast' bureau' cap'illary caravan' cartel' cel'ibacy coadju'tor com'bative contem'plate confidant' con'sistory compen'sate deraon'strate desic'cate dioe'esan consum'mate dis'crepant elegi'ac empyre'an dis'crepance es'sayist governan'te indis'putable epicure'an irrefragable ob'ligatory or'deal inqui'ry panegyr'ic panthe'on pap'illary or'thoepy quanda'ry recep'tacle rcfec'tory proceeds' reni'tency rep'ertory per'emptory rem'ediless no'menclature leg'islature. * The true accent, only, is marked in the above columns. 4# 42 EXERCISES ON WORDS. Words on the pronunciation of which the weight of authority is nearly balanced, and which, therefore, are amenable to the de- cision of individual judgment and taste, as to their appropriate style. Note. — Whatever shade of preference, in any in- stance, may be justly claimed, is intimated by the mode of notation on the left-hand column. Bal'cony balco'ny oblique {-eeh) oblique (-ike) chivalry (sA-) chivalry (tsh-) ophtialmic (o/)-)ophthalmic (0^-) conten'ts con'tents or'chestra orches tra courteous (cur- ) courteous {cor- ) pageant pageant cynosure cynosure pdlfrey palfrey deco'rous dec'orous panegyric {-jer -)panegyric (jir-) design {ss) design (2) pasty pasty dynasty dynasty patent patent dyspep'sy enverope dys'pepsy ang'velope pedal petal pedal petal e'querry equer'ry phalanx phalanx evangelical evangelical pharmaceutic pharmaceutic ex'cavate exca'vate i-ku-] 1 i-seu-) facade fagad platina {-ie-) platina (-tl-) feb'rile fe'brile pother (-M-) pother {-oth-) gain'say gainsay' privacy privacy gla'cis glaceess' prom'ulgator promu ga'tor gladia'tor glad'iator pronunciation pronunciation halcyon (sheun) halcyon (seun) i-sh-] 1 i-s-) hcgira (he-) hegira (hedj-) protest' [nounj pro'test and hemis'tich hem'istich prot'est heresiarch(-2:Ae- ) heresiarch {-ze- ) prow pro hiccough {-up) hiccough (-0^) pu'issance puis'sanco hospital Cos-) hospital (hos-) piimicc pumice humble (\im-) humble {hum-) quoth (-U-) quoth (-0-) infantile (-^7) infantile {-lie) route {-00-) route {-ow-) inimi'cal inim'Ical satire (sdtei-) sater and satire jackall' jack'all satyr {sdter) satyr (sater) liistring lustring Saturn Saturn Messieurs Messieurs schismat'ic schis'matic {-shurz] 1 (-yerz) schedule (sk-) schedule (sed-) minute {-it) minute {-ute) and (shed-) mob'ile mo'bilo seneschal {-sk-) seneschal (-sh-) no'menclaturo nomencla'turo sher'bet sherbet' ORTnOEPY. 43 shire (i-) sirup {s^r-) solder southward suggest (sag-) tenure tdtrarch threepence [thrip- tiercc {eer-) tripod twopence shire (-ee-) sirup [seer-) sawder suthard suggest [sud-] tenure tetrarch threepence [threep') tierce {&r-) tripod tuppence u'tensil venison [venizn) vertigo (-ee-) vicinal wainscoat waistcoat warrior [war-yur) wound (-00-) yeast [yest) yea [yay) zenith nten'sil venison [venzn) vertigo (-^-) vicinal wenscot wescot warrior [imr-re-or) wound {-0W-) yeast (yest) yea (ye) zenith EXERCISE 11. ORTHOGRAPHY. Form of Exercise. — A convenient mode of prescribing a word-exercise in which the practice of orthography is intended to form a prominent part, may be found in the following plan. The teacher directs the class to prepare themselves, in proper season, so as to be ready, at the time as- signed for the ' class-exercise, to spell, by writing on their slates, on the blackboard, or in a con- venient blank book, whatever words he may choose to select from a paragraph or page, pre- scribed from the daily reading-lesson of the class, or from any other convenient source. The pupil's preparation extends, of course, over the whole portion assigned, for all of which he is responsible. But a selection of twenty words will usually be found to occupy advantageously all the time which can be properly devoted, in school hours, to a class-lesson in orthography, especially when it forms but a part of an exercise on words. The most convenient mode of conducting the performance of such exercises in class-form, is the following. The teacher, having previously ex- amined the page or paragraph from which the lesson in orthography is prescribed, and having marked, with a pencil-dot, such words as he deems most important for his purpose, pronoun- (44) ORTHOGRAPHY. 45 ces the first of the words thus selected, and has it written by the class, as mentioned above. The remaining words of the lesson are dictated and written as the first. Suggestions. — In performing tne exercise, the youngest classes may do their work on the black- board; the intermediate, on their slates; and the advanced, in their manuscript books. When slates are used in writing the lesson, a con- venient way of ascertaining the degree of correct- ness attained in every exercise, is this. On finishing the whole number of words dictated as a lesson, the pupils interchange slates; and, while the teacher gives orally, or writes on the blackboard, the true spelling of every word, every pupil marks, by un- derlining, any word which he observes incorrectly spelled on the slate which, for the moment, he has in hand, and, when called by the teacher, reports, orally, the number of errors so marked. The slates are then returned to their respective owners, for cor- rection; and the corrected spelling-lesson is trans- feiTed to a manuscript book ; the underlining being retained, to indicate the words which were corrected on the slate. The words so marked may be reviewed, at convenient times, as a special class-exercise ; the teacher selecting for inscription on the blackboard, by the pupils, in turn, the words which he finds, by referring to the manuscript books, to have been originally misspelled by them individually. In classes sufiiciently advanced for the use of manuscript books in the fijst form of a written exer- cise in spelling, the writing may, for convenience, be done in pencil, and the errors indicated by the cor- rector making merely a shght mark, dot, line, or cross, opposite to each error, and reporting the num- ber of errors orally, as before. The owner of the book, when it is returned to him, makes the requisite 46 EXEECISES ON WORDS. correction, but leaves the mark indicating error un- erased, and hands to the teacher, or writes on the blackboard, a weekly list of the errors made by the writer, together with the requisite correction. Pupils are thus brought to give special attention to the errors to which they individually inchne ; and their progress is indicated, from week to week, by the con- tinually diminishing number of errors reported by the recording book. The teacher is also thus made aware of the previous standing of pupils recently admitted as members of a class. As a means of inducing attention, and as a pleas- ing incitement to the minds of very young pupils, the teacher may write or print the words of the lesson, for them, on the blackboard, at their dictation ; and, as a further variation of mental exercise, he may occasionally write a word, and ask the class whether it is rightly spelled; having given due warning that, to secure close attention and accurate observation, the words may be, sometimes, intention- ally spelled wrong, for the purpose of caUing forth a correction. In the practice of orthography, as part of a word- exercise, the written form of spelling is adopted ex- clusively, as oral spelling is presumed to have already been sufficiently practised in the primer and spelling- book exercises, and to have been followed, also, by an introductory course of lessons in oral spelling without syllabication, so as to prepare the young learner, when spelhng for strictly orthographical purposes, to retain in his memory all the letters which constitute a word, without the aid of the stepping-stones furnished by enunciating and re- capitulating its syllables. An early and long-continued training in written spelling, seems indispensable, in most cases, to the formation of strictly exact habits of ocular observa- tion. For, as is well known to experienced teachers, ORTHOGRAPHY. 47 the utmost accuracy of habit in oral spelling, is no security for corresponding exactness in written spell- ing. Individuals are sometimes found, who have stood at the head of an oral spelUng-class in school, for successive terms, who, when brought to the test of the written exercise, fail in every line, on one or more words. For this reason, exercises in spelling by the use of letter-blocks and cards, are of the greatest value, in training young children: they habituate the pupil to something like the accuracy of the compositor in the printing office ; and they work their effect by the same discipline, — that of not only seeing and recognising, but also handling every letter in a word. To pupils in advanced classes it is a valuable opportunity for improvement to be permitted to aid the teacher in conducting the lessons of young classes, and, sometimes, to take the place of temporary instructor in their own. Such employment calls for and secures a watchful atten- tion to accuracy, by showing, in the most impressive manner, the necessity of possessing it ; and, as much the greater number of teachers must, even at the present day, enter on their work without the advan- tage of professional training, it would be an invalua- ble aid to education, in this department, were every reliable member of our public schools required to occupy a part of every day of the last year of his or her attendance at school, as a pupil, in practical, preparatory training for teaching, in such forms as the one now suggested. Competent examiners, if called on to testify with regard to the accuracy of general habit among us, in the matter of spelling, could bring up statements which, when kept within the bounds of literal truth, could hardly be credited by those whose opportuni- ties of observing are more restricted. The majority of even our New-England teachers, could ill stand a strict scrutiny in this matter; — all owing to the 48 EXERCISES ON WORDS. simple fact, that, although well drilled, perhaps, in oral spelling, in childhood, they were not trained to the exercise of written spelling, at any stage of their school discipline. — The eye may not say, " I am not of the body ; " but it may well be allowed to say, I am not the ear. The discipline of the musician will not make a painter. The remarks made under the head of orthoepy, concerning the importance of perfect accuracy, on the part of students and teachers, apply, with equal force, to the demand for this indispensable qualifica- tion, in the case of the student or teacher of ortho- graphy. No word of the English language, — co- pious as the language is, — must be unknown to him, as regards its constituent letters. Months of appli- cation may be needed, even by the educated adult, to render him critically exact in this branch of the requisite knowledge of his daily business. A single error in orthography, casts a cloud of doubt over even the most liberal mind, as to the competency of a candidate for the office of teacher, who thus obvi- ously fails in the ability to set a correct example or detect an error. Nothing short of a thorough self- discipline in orthography, throughout the dictionary of the language, should satisfy a candidate for the occupation of teaching. Worcester's Comprehensive and Critical Dictiona- ries will furnish the student with a rehable standard for actual and well-sanctioned usage in the ortho- graphy of our language at the present day. The Harpers' octavo edition of Webster's dictionary, also, among the many other excellent features which recommend that work to teachers, for their special uses, presents, clearly and compactly, the few points in which that eminent lexicogTapher stands alone, in certain peculiarities, as well as those in which he is sustained by the sanction of the best dictionary- compilers of England. — An erroneous impression ORTHOGRAPHY. 49 prevails, with some teachers, that, on account of the great general excellencies of Webster's dictionary, it is a duty to adopt it unreservedly, and to follow it, as a standard, in all its peculiarities. This would be carrying our respect for the venerable author to a species of man-worship, which the native independ- ence of our language has hitherto forbidden it from rendering to the most profoundly learned of its lexi- cographers. Neither Johnson, who swayed the in- tellectual and moral world of his day, nor Walker, to whom Sheridan and Burke ascribed a consum- mate mastery of " the harmonies and elegancies " of the English language, was permitted to prescribe a universal standard of usage in orthography or in pronunciation. Most of the peculiarities of these emi- nent authorities, were shunned, — not copied; and to accord to Webster a submissive adoption ofhis, would be an act of servility, wliich neither the characteris- tic freedom of our language, nor the independent spirit of our people, ought to be expected to yield. Words op variable Orthography. Suggestions to Teachers. — The words presented in the following columns, are not found uniform in the orthography, even^of eminent authors, either Bri- tish or American. In the larger number of instan- ces, however, writers distinguished for critical accu- racy of style, manifest a preference for one mode of spelling; and in those cases in which there is an obvious preponderance of such authority, it is pro- perly regarded as the law of usage. Words of tliis class, in the hst subjoined, are given in that form only wliich has this sanction : words in regard to which the weight of authority is divided, and nearly balanced, are presented in double form ; and, what- 5 50 EXERCISES ON WORDS. ever degree of preference may be justly claimed, is indicated in the orthography of that form of the given word which occurs first, in order. While offering this aid to the regularity of in- struction, the author will not, he hopes, be regarded as dictating to his fellow teachers. His aim is mere- ly to facilitate uniformity of practice, in schools and classes, in this important branch of practical educa- tion ; and it would greatly assist the attainment of the end now in view, if every teacher would make, for the benefit of his own school, a corresponding hst of words of variable orthography selected accord- ing to his own critical judgment, and have his pupils daily transcribe from it, at his dictation, or from his inscription on the blackboard, a certain number of words, on a card, or in a book, kept always at hand, as a standard of reference. — Students of advanced standing will also be greatly benefited by preparing such a list for themselves, as a companion or sup- plement to the dictionary. Abattis ) abatis ) asthetic ) aesthetic J apostasy artisan I artizan ) bachelor banian ) banyan ) behoove ) behove J bellwether ) belwether byzantine buzz camlet ) camblet ) catchup if catsup J chestnut scion ) cion J abridgment abridgement aide-de-camp aid-de-camp ascendency autocracy baluster / banister J basin bellman ) belman J bequeath } bequeathe ) brier ) briar ) camphor carabine ) carbine J causeway chillncss " chilness cipher advertise alchemist anapest apall athenaeum ) atheneum S arquebuse 1 arquebus ) bateau batteau bourgeois binnacle ) binacle ) bunn caldron canvas caraway checker centre cigar segar clinch aerie ankle apprise ) apprize J axe bandanna battledoor ) battledore j bellmetal ) belmetal ) bodice ) boddice J burr calligraphy ) caligraphy J carcass chemistry chameleon cimeter ) scymitar ) contemporary ORTHOGRAPHY. 51 connection ^ connexion ) cntlass decrepit develop ) develope J despatch I dispatch J downfall / downfal J ecstasy enigma encyclopaedia ) encyclopedia ) ingrain aesthetics ) esthetics ) fiUibeg ) phillibeg J frustum gauge gimlet } gimblet ) gypsy I gypsey f hoarhound ) horehound \ hoyden install ) instal ) gnarled licorice \ liquorice ) loath ) / .. . loth fW-) maltreat maletreat moccason * moccasin J negotiate oxyd ) oxide ) peddler ) pedlar ) philtre ) philter ) practise (verb) cosey cue cyclopaedia ) cyclopedia ) development |^ developement J distention ' distension dryly drily embody ) imbody ( endorse ) indorse \ envelop (verb) fagot ) faggot ) forestall frenetic ) phrenetic ) gayety } gaiety ) granddaughter grandaughter group J groupe j height holiday ) holyday J jonquille lackey ) laquey ) loadstar lodgment ) lodgement J marquis merchandise molases melasses offence pacha ) pasha ) phantasm phantom plough ploughshare pretence craunch ) cranch ) defence dependence dexterous ) dextrous ) domicile domicil dryness driness enclose ) inclose ) inquire \ enquire ) envelopment envelopement ferrule foretell frenzy fulfill ) fulfil f gayiy I : gaily ) gray grey headache headach hydrangea jail judgment ) judgement ) lacquer ) lacker ) malcontent malecontent mattress metre mosquito mould ottar ) otto ) panel ) pannel J phial ) vial ) porpoise ) porpus J crumb crum dependent deposit dyke diocese dote ) doat ) dulness ) dullness ) empassioned ) impassioned J inquiry enquiry era filigree ) filagree ) foundery ) foundry J fulness ) fullness ) fusee I fusil [ gibe) jibef gulf ) gulph 5 hinderance ) hindrance J innuendo jailer justle ) jostle ) lavender ) lavendar \ malpractice ) malepractice ) meagre misspell ) mispell ) mustache ) moustache J paralyse ) paralyze ) partisan 1 partizan S ploughman postilion ) postillion ) 52 EXERCISES ON WORDS. pupillary recognise Saviour ' savior scythe sergeant Serjeant sienite syenite smallness ) smalness J soothe (verb) steelyard ) stillyard ) sirloin ) surloin ) tranquillise unroll \ unrol ) villany ) villainy ) whisky ) whiskey ) woollen purr reverie ? revery ) sceptical sentinel sheathe (verb) shyly ^ shily syrup sirup , smooth (verb) spectre stillness \ stilness j systematise ) systematize J trousers ^ trowsers vermilion ) Vermillion J vizier wintry ) wintery J wreathe (verb) pygmy pigmy sceptic scepticism sequin show shyness shiness skull ) scull ) somerset spinach ) spinage ( theatre tallncss talness turquoise \ turkois ) vial I phial S wagon ) waggon ) wizard ) wizzard ) ratan ) rattan ) sceptre scion ) cion ) shrillness ) shrilness J slyly / slily f slyness ) sliness f stanch J staunch ) ton toilet 1 toilette ) unbiassed ) unbiased ) villanous ) villainous ) welsh ) welch J woe ) wo J EXERCISE III. SYLLABICATION. Introditctory Explanations.^ — Orthography, as a branch of grammar, includes whatever regards the component letters of a word, and consequently takes cognizance of their grouping, or arrangement in clus- ters, corresponding to the necessary division of words into parts, by the natural action of the organs of speech. To these parts is given the grammatical designation of" syllables", {jportions taken together ;) and the process of making these divisions, is accord- ingly termed syllabication. The process of syllabication is appropriately em- ployed, in systematic instruction, as a means of faci- litating the young learner's first attempts in pronoun- cing polysyllables. The multiplicity of letters pre- sented in such words, would confuse and embarrass his unpractised eye. But he finds that he can man- age them more easily by reducing the word, for the moment, to the footing of a monosyllable, by sepa- rating it into its constituent syllables, and taking them up, one by one. He is, in this way, enabled to master the whole word by enunciating a syllable * The introductory explanations which precede the statement of the practical exercise, in this and other instances, are meant to be adapted, by the requisite oral modifications from the teach- er, to the capacity of the class under his instruction. The chief purpose of such explanatory teaching, is not so much to remove ditiicuUies, as to attract attention to the subject, by presenting it in interesting forms, which may give it a freshness of aspect to the mind. 5=* (53) 54 EXERCISES ON WORDS. at a time, and, afterwards, the wliole series, in se- quence, as one word. But, important as syllabication is, in the aid which it renders to audible reading, it is not less so in the dividing of words to the eye, — as an assistance to the silent perusal of the ivritten page. In writing, a word sometimes occurs so near to the end of one line, that all its letters or syllables cannot be con- tained in that line, and part of them must be carried into the next. It becomes a matter of importance, then, that, in solving this practical difficulty, the di- vision be appropriately made, in conformity with the component parts of the word ; otherwise, the eye may be confused by a collocation of letters which baffles or misleads the mind, in its attempt to recog- nise the successive syllables, and consequently leaves the reader at a loss for the sense of what is written. The general rule given on this subject, by gram- marians, is, that, in syllabication, words should be divided by arranging the letters in groups con-espond- ing to those into which they naturally fall, in correct pronunciation. This rule would be, in all cases, a safe guide ; and there could be no perplexity in at- tempting to apply it, were the question one which related to the usage of spoken language, which con- sults the ear rather than the eye. The rule, accord- ingly, holds good in oral spelling, in which syllabica- tion is employed as an aid to pronunciation ; and, in the columns of the spelling-book, therefore, the learner may find such words as haJcer, maker, turner, assistance, etc., divided thus ; ba-ker, ma-ker, tur-ner, as-sis-tance, etc. In the case of written language, in its general forms, however, the sound of words and syllables to the ear, not being the main object of attention, the syllabication of a word is performed with more regard to the action of the eye, as suggesting the meaning to the mind, by a division of the word according to SYLLABICATION. 55 its etymology. The written form of a word com- monly reveals its derivation ; which is not necessa- rily the fact in spoken language ; as the successive changes and, sometimes, the corruptions of speech throw an utter obscurity over the actual orthography and derivation of many words. Hence the greater tendency, in writing, to favor, to a certain extent, the etymological rather than the orthoepical mode of syllabication. If, therefore, we adopt, in written ex- pression, the general rule before quoted, we must make allowance for certain exceptions, in which the former of these modes is followed, to the exclusion of the latter. It would be a great convenience, in the interpreta- tion of written language, if, in those instances in which a division of words into syllables becomes necessary, we could carry the principle of etymo- logical syllabication tlirough all the parts of a word. But custom, wliich has absolute sway in all matters of language, has so habituated the eye, in tracing the lines of written composition, to obey the early rule of practice in oral syllabication, that to deviate from it would be an offence. Thus, we could not endure a syllabic division such as this, — salv-at-io7i, pre-fat-or-y, — although it presents the actual deriva- tion and composition, and suggests, at once, the proper signification of the words. The rule of ap- proved custom, we find, limits the etymological division to terminations and, in particular, to affixes, or suffixes, and witholds it, in many cases, even from prefixes. The principle, therefore, of dividing words into syllables corresponding to the derivation and composition of their parts, while it does not uniformly apply to initial, and seldom to middle syllables, holds good in suffixes, and detaches them from the roots which precede them, so as to leave the root of a word, — the main key to its meaning, — a full and 56 EXERCISES ON WORDS. distinct effect on the eye and the mind. Hence, in passing from the speUing-book, (which is primarily intended to be used as an introductory aid to the audible process of reading aloud,) to the dictionary, (which is intended as a guide, not only in orthoepy, but in orthography, in its strict acceptation of written spelhng, and in the definition of terms, and is used for silent reference, rather than oral practice,) the learner will find the words formerly quoted, divided thus : hak-er, mak-er, turn-er, as-sist-ance. Exercise. — The most convenient form of prescribing and performing exercises in syllabica- tion, is to unite them with those in written spell- ing, as suggested under the preceding head of " Orthography." It is a great economy of time, and, at the same moment, an exceedingly useful training, to present, in the act of writing the words prescribed by the teacher, the proper sylla- bication of every one, marked by the hyphen, along with its orthography. Opportunity, also, is thus found for accustoming the pupil to the proper discrimination, in the practice of written spelling, as regards the difference between it and oral spelling, in the terminations of the classes of words referred to in a preceding paragraph, in connection with the distinction to be observed be- tween orthographical and etymological spelling. Examples of Rules in Written Syllabication. I. When a single consonant follows the name sound of the vowels, a, e, i, o, u, y, the consonant falls into the succeeding syllable ; as in ha-lo, fe- male, ti-ny, ho-ly, du-ly, thy-my. II. When a single consonant follows the short SYLLABICATION. 57 sound of the vowels a, e^ i, o, u, y, it is attached to the vowel ; as in al-um, ev-er, im-age, Jiom-age, ujj-on, hyp'O-crite. III. When two consonants occur between two vowels, one of the consonants is attached to the preceding, and the other to the latter vowel ; as in ac-tu-ate, fes-tive, im-pede, oc-tave, un-der, cym- bal. Exceptions. — The suffixes -er and -ing, as in task-er, kind-er, vast-er, act-ing, gasp-ing, wast-ing. IV. "When three consonants occur between two vowels, the first consonant is commonly attached to the former, and the last two, to the latter vowel ; as in dis-place, up-hraid, un-dress, obstruct, con-gresSy cmi-clude, dis-tress. V. The suffixes, -ed, -er, and -ing, commonly con- stitute a separate syllable from the other syllables or letters of a word; as in act-ed, mark-ed, ivarp-cd, read-er, wait-er, weav-er, read-ing, wait-ing, weav-ing. Exceptions. — (1.) When the suffixes, -ed, -er, and -ing, follow the liquids, /, m, n, preceded by a single vowel, the liquid is attached to the suffix ; as in ta- mer, ta-ming, ti-ler, ti-ling, shi-ner, shi-ning. — (2.) When they follow c or ^ soft, the consonant is at- tached to the suffix ; as in ra-cer, ra-cing, wa-ger, wa-ging. — (3.) When they follow a double conso- nant, the latter of the two consonants is attached to the suffix ; as in sad-der, glad-der, lad-der, blab-bing, mad-der, mad-ding, cram-ming, rap-ping, bat-ter, bat- | ting, bet-ter, bet-ting, fit-ter, fit-ting, stop-per, stop-ping, \ but-ter, but-ting, cup-per, cup-ping. j Suggestions. — In the process of correcting errors ' in orthography, on the plan formerly proposed, it should be the corrector's duty, in all cases, to mark, also, errors in syllabication ; and, when the teacher adopts the method of writing, on the blackboard, a model exemplification of the words of the lesson in 58 EXERCISES ON WORDS. orthography, so as to furnish a standard for deciding the propriety of corrections, he should uniformly insert the hyphen between the syllables of all the words of the lesson. The early formation of correct habit, makes a careful attention to this branch of practical gram- mar, a matter of gTeat importance to accuracy and despatch, in whatever form of business requires the skill of a correct and ready writer. EXERCISE IV. ETYMOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. Introductory JExplanations. — The orthoepy, or- thography, and syllabication of words, having re- ceived due attention, the learner's next step should be, to acquire a knowledge of the significance of every constituent syllable of a word selected for study. Words being the representatives of ideas, the study of them becomes, virtually, the study of ideas, — the observation of the facts and modes of intellectual action; and the peculiar value of that part of education which has to do with language, is that, of all forms of expression which we can con- template, none lies so near to the mind itself, — none is so purely intellectual, as language ; — none is so happily suited to employ and discipline those mental faculties, the possession of which constitutes man an image of God. The crowning endowment con- ferred on man, which renders this resemblance to his Creator manifest, is speech, — the wondrous power by which thought is uttered in the audible form of words. By these instruments of power do the poet and the orator inspire and sway the minds of their fellow men, through successive ages. For centuries, have the words of such men been the study and the delight of mankind ; and the written volumes through which they, "being dead, yet speak," have, in all civilised countries, justly fur- nished the material for the highest intellectual cul- ture of the human race. To appreciate the true value, or feel the full power (59} 60 EXERCISES ON WORDS. of any form of expression, or even to understand aright the meaning of a word, we must perceive dis- tinctly the significance of every one of its compo- nent syllables, or even of its very letters, taken singly. The language which we inherit comes down to us from remote ages, and is composed, to a great extent, of words borrowed from other languages; and, to understand or use it rightly, we must refer to ancient and foreign tongues, in order to become in- telligent and expert in the use of our own. Persons who enjoy the privilege of a full knowledge of these languages, possess a peculiar advantage, in this respect; and such knowledge is exceedingly de- sirable. But, as few, comparatively, are thus favored, the majority of those who speak English, in its con- temporary form, must, in referring to the exact mean- ing of many words, depend on the aid of those who, as lexicographers and compilers of dictionaries, have rendered the sources of our language accessible to all who choose to resort to them. An important part, therefore, of early education, is occupied with the process of investigating the mean- ing of words, by reference to dictionaries which ena- ble us to trace their derivation, and thus to obtain the benefit of a full course of instruction in that part of grammar which is termed " etymology," — the science of derivation. Our language is a compound made up of many elements. But, among these, one predominates, as primitive and simplest, and as most easily intelligible, and strikingly expressive, because it consists of those words which are in common use in our homes, and which we hear and learn in our childhood. It is the language which our mothers address to us, in our in- fancy, and which, in all its words, we have associated not with other words but with things themselves. When we are old enough to enter the world of books, we find there many other words intermingled ETYMOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 61 with those of our vernacular tongue ; and, by de- grees, we gather their meanings from those of the home words w^ith which they are synonymous, and which are aheady famihar to us. This mixed dialect we hear adults around us using daily, partly in con- versation on elevated subjects, but, still more, in pub- lic addresses on matters of general concern and excursive thought. We thus become accustomed personaUy, in due season, to its use, as best adapted to expansive ideas, abstract reasonmg, argumentative discussion, and philosophical theorising. To understand perfectly these uses of language, we must know the primitive meanings of the words ^vhich we find prevailing in the forms of expression adopted in books, and which we have not been ac- customed to use in familiar connection with the ob- jects which they represent. Such words have only a secondary, and, as it were, a shadowy meaning to our minds, till we have learned to connect them, in- dividually, with a corresponding Avord in our own primitive or vernacular language, which word we at once refer to the thing which it signifies. The idea thus called up, is like the familiar face of an old friend, contrasted with the countenance of one who is a stranger, and known to us as merely a human being. The dictionary offers us its assistance in our at- tempts to trace the primary connections of words with objects, in those instances in which the recog- nition of this connection depends on a knowledge of the original languages from which a large part of our own is derived. The faithful study of the dic- tionary, therefore, becomes the condition of our right understanding of many words. Take, for example, the word astronomy. We know, from what Ave have heard, or read, that it refers to a knowledge of the stars. But it is not till we have learned that the word is made up of two Greek words, astron, " star," G 62 EXERCISES ON WORDS. or constellation, and nomos, " law," or science, that we understand the full value of the English word thus derived and compounded. Exercises in etymological analysis, are the only means of enabling the young student to feel at home in all parts of his oAvn language, and to use its words with intelhgent and discriminating effect. Exercise. — (1.) Prefixes. — A preliminary course of instruction and practice in etymology, consists in tracing, in the manner exemplified in the following lists, the signification of those words which constitute the initial syllable or syllables of many English words, and have hence received the designation of " prefixes ", or words or syllables prefixed to other words, to modify their meaning. Suggestions to Teachers. — It is greatly to be de- sired that a complete course of exercises in the ety- mological analysis of words, should form a part of grammatical instruction, in all schools, and that every spelling-book should, at least, comprise a brief course of lessons on the use and signification of prefixes and sufiixes. Lynd's series of etymological manuals, and Oswald's etymological Dictionary, are excellent- ly adapted to the former purpose ; and teachers who make use of the improved edition of the spelling- book compiled by the author of the present work, will find, in that manual, a selection of lessons pre- pared for the latter purpose.=^ * One of the most valuable school-books, as a guide to exact and complete information on all points of etymology, as well as every other subject, connected with the study of the English lan- guage, is the dictionary of Mr. Alexander lleid of Edinburgh, re- edited by the late Professor Henry Reed of Philadelphia, and published by Applcton & Co., New York. ETYMOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 63 For the convenience of teachers in whose schools etymological analysis has not been introduced, as a regular branch of instruction, the following outhne is submitted, as an aid to the performance of exercises by the pupil. The matter here presented may, at the discretion of the teacher, be prescribed in daily successive portions, on the blackboard, for the pur- pose of being transcribed and committed to memory, by the pupil, and presented in examples additional to the following.* A List of the principal original English, or Saxon, Prefixes. A-, signifying on, to, in, at: Examples, A-foot, a- head, a-bed, a-side. — Be-, to make, to give: Be- dim, be-calm, be-cloud, be-stow. — Down, Down-fall, down -lying, down-sitting. — For-, signifying away: Examples, For-bid, for-get, for-give, for-sake. — Fore-, before : Fore-see, fore-tell, fore-show, fore-arm, fore- warn. — Mis-, error, ill, defect: Mis-take, mis-deed, mis-demeanor, mis-lead. — Out-, beyond: Out-bid, out-do, out-run, out-vie. — Over-, beyond: Over- reach, over-set, over-do, over-look, over-see. — Un-, not, do away: Un-able, un-apt, un-fair, un-bar, un- fold, un-do. — Under-, Under-mine, under-go, un- der-rate. — Up-, Up-hold, up-take, up-bear, up-heave. — With- signifying /ro??z, against: With-draw, with- hold, with-stand. Prefixes qfLati?i Origin. A-, AB-, sigmfjing from, away: Examples, A-bate, * "Words selected from the reading-lesson of the day, will al- waya be found the most interesting, as well as immediately use- ful, material for class-exercises in the various forms of etymologi- cal analysis. A limited number of words may be assigned, for this purpose, from those which are given out for practice in or- thography. 64 EXERCISES ON WORDS. (bate from;) a- vert, (turn from;) ab-ject, (thrown;*) ab-jure, (swear;) ab-rupt, (broken.) — Ad-, sometimes changed, for the eifect of euphony, into a-, ac-, af-, ag-, al-, ap-, ar-, as-, at-, signifying to : Ad-join,t a- scend, (climb;) accord, (agree;) af-flux, (flowing;) ag-gravate, (make heavy ;) al-lot; annex, (tie;) ap- proach, (draw near;) ar-rive, (flow;) as-sume, (take;) at-tach, (fasten.)- Ante-, before: Ante-cedent, (going;) ante-dihivian, (flood;) ante-mundane, (world;) ante- date. — Bi-, twice, two, double : Bi-ennial, (year;) bi- furcate, (pronged;) bi-valve, (shell.) — Cis-, 07i this side : Cis-alpine, Cis-atlantic. — Con-, changed, for euphony, into co-, cog-, col-, com-, cor-, signifying with, together : Con-cur, $ co-equal, cog-nate, (born, allied ;) col-lect, (gather;) com-pose, (put;) con-nect (bind;) cor-respond, (answer.) — Contra-, or counter-, a- gainst, ox>posite : Contra-diet, (say;) contra- vene, (come;) counter-act, counter-part. — I^y.-, down, from: De-duct, (draw;) de-ject, (throw;) de-cease, (with- draw;) de-ter, (frighten;) de-scend, (climb.) — Dis-, DI-, or DIF-, away, aside, not : Dis-arm, dis-ease, dis- own, di-gress, (go;) divert, (turn;) dif-ferent, (bear- ing;) dis-agree; dis-place, dis-please. — Ex-, or e-, EC-, EF-, out: Ex-pand, ex-hume, (ground;) ex- trude, (thnist;) ex-clude, (close;) e-mit, (send,) e- ject, (throw;) ec-centric, (centre;) ef-fuse, (shed.) — Extra-, beyond: Extra-mural, (wall;) extra-mun- dane, (world;) extra-ordinary; extra- vagant, (wan- dering.) — In-, or IL-, IM-, IR-, EN-, EM-, in, into, on; * To avoid unnecessary repetitions, the signification of the prefix is left to be understood and supplied by the pupil. t When the root of the word is familiar English, its meaning is left to be inferred. X The meaning of the Latin word which forms the root of the derivative, is, in some instances, necessarily assumed, in the above list. In the performance of exercises, it may be given by the teacher, or obtained from the dictionary, as may seem advisable, according to the stage of advancement attained by different classes. ETYMOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 65 Induce, (lead;) in-fiise, (shed;) in-grain; il-lumine, (shine;) im-pel, (drive;) in-fuse, (shed;) ir-radiate, (beam ;) en-chain ; en-grave ; em-body ; em-balm. Note. — The prefix W2-, in its various forms, has sometimes the signification of not or un-. Examples, In-vincible, (conquerable ;) in-tolerable, (bearable ;) il-limitable, (to be bounded;) il-licit (lawful;) im- pure ; im-passable ; ir-regular, (according to rule ;) ir- repressible, (to be put down.) Inter-, between, among : Inter-pose, (put ;) inter- sperse, (scatter ;) inter-vene, (come ;) inter-lude, (play.) — Intro-, within, htward: Intro-duce, (lead;) intro-vert, (turn ;) intro-spection, (looking.) — Non-, Tiot, Non-arrival; non-intercourse; non-intervention. — Ob-, or 0C-, of-, op-, against, opposite : Ob-trude, (tlirust;) ob-ject, (throw;) occlude, (shut,) of-fend, (strike ;) op-pose, (place.) — Per-, through, Per-ma- nent, (staying ;) per-vade, (go;) per-meate, (wander, wind ;) per-mit, (send ;) percussion, (striking.) — Post-, after, Post-pone, (place ;) post-obit, (death ;) post-humous, (earth.) — Pre-, before, Pre-cede, (go;) prefer, (bring, put ;) pre-occupy ; premonition, (warn- ng;) pre-lude, (play ;) pre-clude, (shut.) — Pro-, ^/or, forth. Pro-consul; pro-ceed, (go;) pro-mote, (move;) pro-trude, (thrust.) — Preter-, beyond, past: Preter- natural ; preter-mission, (sending.) — Re-, again, back, Re-sume, (take ;) re-place ; renew ; re-volve, (turn ;) re-act; re-vert, (turn;) re-bel, (fight;) re-sist, (stand.) — Retro-, backward. Retrocession, (going;) retro- action, retro-grade, (step;) retro-spection, (looking.) — Se-, apart, Se-cede, (go;) se-gregate, (gather;) se-duce, (draw.) — Sub-, suf-, sup-, under. Sub-ju- gate, (yoke;) sub-ordinate, (rank;) sub-tract, (draw;) suf-fer, (bear ;) suf-fix ; sup-pose (put ;) sup-press. Super-, over, above, up)on, Super-fine, super- vision, (seeing;) super-natural; super-position, (placing;) super-vene, (come ;) super-sede (sit.) — Trans-, 6# 66 EXERCISES ON WORDS. over, beyond, Trans-fer, (cany ;) trans-pose, (place ;) trans-gress, (go ;) trans-Atlantic ; trans-ition, (going ;) trans-plant. Prefixes of Greek Origin. A-, signifying without: Examples, A-theist, (with- out God;) a-morplious, (shape;) a-tony, (tone.) — Amphi-, double; Amphibious, (life;) amphi -theatre. — Ana-, up, through, Analyse, (solve;) ana-tomy, (cut, divide.) — Anti-, against, opposite. Anti-febrile, (fever;) anti-dote, (given); anti-podes, (feet.) — Avo-, from, Apo-strophe, (turn;) apo-state, (stand- ing:) apo-stle, (sent.) — Dia-, or di-, through: Dia- meter, (measure;) dia-gonal, (corner;) di-seresis, (di- vision, separation.) — Epi-, cw, Epi-gram, (wi'itten;) epi-taph, (tomb ;) epi-dermis, (skin.) — Hyper-, over. Hyper-bole, (cast;) hyper- criticism. Hypo-, under. Hypo-thesis, (placing;) hypo-gene, (earth.) — Meta-, beyond, Meta -physical, (natural;) meta-phor, (carry;) meta-morphosis, (shaping.) — Para-, from, beyond, Para-plirase, (expression ;) para-graph, (writing ;) para-dox, (opinion, thought.) — Peri- around: Peri- meter, (measure ;) peri-patetic, (walking ;) peri- scope, (view.) — Syn-, or sym-, together. Synod, (going;) syn-tax, (arranging;) syn-thesis, (placing;) sym-pathy, feeling ; sym-metry, (measuring ;) sym- phony, (sounding.) Exercise. — (2.) Affixes., or Svffixes.* — The second step in etymological analysis leads to the study of the final syllables of words, for the pur- pose of tracing their special significance, as an =* The former of the above designations, is generally adopted by English, the latter by American writers. The latter term is the more significant as regards the closeness of the connection be- tween the root and the termination of a word, the actual position of the final syllable, and its comparatively inferior character. ETYMOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 67 aid to the full and exact comprehension of the meaning of the whole word which is, for the time, the object of attention. The mode of performing an exercise on suffixes, corresponds to that which has been prescribed and exemplified under pre- fixes. Note. — The root of the word, when, in any case, it is not familiar to the mind of the pupil, may be obtained by referring to the teacher, or to the dic- tionary, as may be expedient for individuals or classes. Original English Suffixes. -ER, signifying one ivho : Examples, Mak-er, wait- er, hold-er. ling, -kin, 5wa//; Gos-ling, lord-ling, lamb-kin, manni-kin. hood, conditimi: Child-hood, boy-hood, man-hood. ness, quality, state: Bold- ness, good-ness, remote-ness. th, condition: Death, youth, health, wealth. en, made of: Gold-en, earth- en, wood-en. ship, office, condition: Clerk-ship, hard-ship, friend-ship. Suffixes derived from the Latin language through the French. -AN, -ANT, -ENT, onc who is, docs, makes, or belongs to : Artis-an, serv-ant, attend-ant, ag-ent, depend-ent, constitu-ent. ar, or -ard, one who is or does: Li-ar, begg-ar, cow-ard, dot-ard. ee, one to whom any- thing is given or done: Trust-ee, legat-ee. eer, one ivfbo is or does : Mountain- eer, mutin-eer, volunt- eer. ACY, condition, state : Suprem-acy, obstin-acy, obdur-acy. age, condition, state : Bond-age, peer- age, marri-age. ance, -ancy, -ence, -ency, act, condition, state : Guid-ance, compli-ance, const-ancy, vagr-ancy, depend-ence, dilig-ence, ag-ency, dec- ency. ion, act, state : Un-ion, convers-ion, act-ion, 68 EXERCISES ON WORDS. addit-ion. ment, condition, state, act: Embarrass- ment, amuse-ment, judge-ment, invest-ment, arbitra- ment. ORY, place or thing which: Fact-ory, repert- ory, orat-ory, hist-ory. ude, condition, state, tendency : Attit-ude, gratit-ude, latit-ude, habit-nde. ty, cow- dition, state, tendency: Humili-ty, civili-ty, punctuaK- ty. XJRE, thing, state: Creat-ure, lect-ure, post-ure, fiex-ure, fiss-iire. s y, thing, state, tendency : Courte- sy, minstrel-sy, fanta-sy, aposta-sy. ary, one tvhoj or which: Advers-ary, mission-ary, commiss-ary, tribut- ary, a3stu-ary. ry, thing, place, art, quality: Chival- ry, pant-ry, juggle-ry, brave-ry. ant, -ent, quality, character: Abund-ant, jubil-ant, independ-ent, confid- ent. AR, -ARY, quality, belonging to: Regul-ar, ocul- ar, *custom-ary, planet- ary. ble, capable, worthy: Aud-ible, vis-ible, admir-able, honor-able. ate, office, condition, quality, character, property : Deleg- ate, candid-ate, episcop-ate adeqti-ate, commensur- ate, orn-ate, obl-ate, prostr-ate ; conglomer-ate ist, office, occupation: Art-ist, botan-ist, pian-ist. ive, condition, relation, tendency: Capt-ive, delus-ive, subvers-ive, abus-ive. aceous, mode of, belonging to: Farin-aceous, crust-aceous, herb-aceous. icious, abounding in, tending to : Susp-icious, jud-icious, capr-icious. agio us, abounding in, tending to: Ver-acious, mend-acious, contum-acious. eous, quality, propeHy : Beaut-eous, dut-eous, ign-eous, lign-eous. ous, quality, propeHy : Covet-ous, prosper-ous, mountain-ous, conspicu-ous, gener-ous, oner-ous. al, signifying relating to : Examples, Aeri-al, brut-al, fat-al, judici-al, commerci-al, nav-al, agricultur-al. an, belonging to : Rom-an, Indi-an, republic-an. yh, tending to: Viv-id, morb-id, stup- id. OR, one wJw : Creat-or, spectat-or, orat-or, mediat-or, rect-or, protect-or. Suffixes derived from the Greek language, through the Latin. ics, Urt, or science: PoHt-ics, opt-ics, mathemat-ics. — -ism, state, statement: Fanatic-ism, ETYMOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 69 patriot-ism, barbar-ism, wittic-ism. — -is, thing, con^ dltion : Thes-is, hypothes-is, metamorplios-is. Grammatical Suffixes, or Inflections. Suggestioiis to Teachers. — For the benefit of the youngest classes of pupils, it is important that the exercises in etymological analysis should extend to the practice of observing closely the character and import of the modifications which the slightest changes in thought produce on the final syllables of words. These modifications should be carefully traced, in the tln-ee great classes of inflected words, and reduced to writing, in forms adopted, at the discretion of the teacher, according to the mental condition of different classes. The following plan may be used as a suggestive outline. ( 1 . ) Inflection of Nouns. -'s, signifying possession. Examples : Man'5 fife ; the boy'5 book; the horse'5 head. — s, plurality; Book, book5 ; hill, hills ; river, rivers ; horse, horses ; house, houses ; tree, trees. s' plurality and pos- session: The horses' heads; the cows' stalls; the boys' hats. (2.) Adjectives. -ER, or II, signifying more. Examples : A greater and a wiser than Solomon. Tliis book is larger than that. This is the longer one. — -est, or -st, most: The greatest and the wisest of men ; the widest and the longest river; the highest mountain; the fairest prospect. (3.) Verbs. -est, or ST, signifying thou, oxid. present time. Ex- amples : Thou lookes^, thou heares^, thou speakes^; 70 EXERCISES ON WORDS. thou Tocioyest, tliou lovest, thou see5^, thou const. s, -ETH, or -TH, he, she, or it, a.nd present time : He look*, she move5, it see* ; he looketh, she moveth, it seeth. ED, or -D, action, or condition, and past time : I waited, he movec?, they hearc?, we looked, she wan- derer?, ye passed, they stopper/. edst, or -dst, ac- tion, or condition, past time and thou : Thou looke^^, thou hearc?*^, thou -wmiedst, thou shoulc/*^, thou move^*t — -iNG, action, or condition, and present time : He is -wTjlking, I am standm^, they are sitt?;?^, we are movm^, she is sleep^^^, thou art runnm^, ye are restm^, it is dying. Exercise in Review. — Give the meaning of the original English prefix a. "Write examples : * read, and, if necessary, correct them. Go through all the classes of prefixes in the same manner. Give the meaning of all the classes of suffixes, and exemplify them in the same manner. Exercise. (3.) Primitive and Derivative Words, and Roots. Explanatory Observations. — When the prefix and suffix of a word have been discussed, by reference to their primitive signffication, in the part of our lan- guage from which they are derived, there remains for analysis, or for investigation, the portion of the word which hes between the prefix and the suffix. This may be an original English word ; or it may be derived from a Greek or a Latin word, or from one existing in any of the modern languages from which our own language is accustomed to borrow terms in which it is itself deficient or less appropriately fumish- * Examples may be taken from the columns of any school dic- tionary. The number of examples required should of course be regulated by the ability of the pupil or class. ^lyMOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 71 ed. This main part, or body of a word, from its im- portance, as principal, to the meaning of the whole, and from the life which it gives to the other compon- ent parts, is termed the root. To comprehend fully and appreciate properly the meaning of a complex word, such as we now refer to, we must ascertain the signification of the root, whether primitive or de- rivative, which we do by tracing it to its connection with the object or idea which it originally represent- ed. If the root is an original English word, or comes from any one of the great family of Teutonic dialects of which the Saxon is one, we recognise its mean- ing perfectly at sight, as it has been uniformly asso- ciated, from our childhood, with a definite object, or with an idea of the mind. In such cases, therefore, we seldom need to resort to the dictionary for aid : although, owing to the changes which time is always making on a Uving language, we shall find that, even in relation to vernacular words, much light is thrown upon their meaning, when we trace them to their primitive form and signification. A pecuhar signifi- cance and value may thus be given to a term per- fectly familiar to us, in daily use, but of which we had not felt the full force, from inadvertency as to its derivation. When the root of a word refers us to a Greek or Latin piimitive, our conception of its sense must, unless we are somewhat versed in these languages, be comparatively dim and imperfect, since we can- not verify the meaning by comparing the term with that wliich it represents. A dictionary of sufficient extent to furnish the derivation of words, then be- comes a friendly instructor, for the time, directing us to the information which we wanted. The use of such a dictionary, therefore, becomes indispensable to all pupils who are of sufficient age and capacity to perform the etymological part of word-exercises ; and to the advanced student and the teacher its 72 EXERCISES ON WORDS. value is inexpressible. It is, in fact, the only re- liance, to all who are not skilled in ancient and mo- dern languages, for a critically correct interpretation and use of words.* Form of Exercise. — In writing the roots of complex words, the principal object of attention, with young pupils, is the entire separation of the root from the suffix ; as the mechanical tendency of ear and eye, in consequence of the habit form- ed by early training in orthography and syllabi- cation, is to present words divided not according to their derivation, but their style in oral and written spelling. The etymological part of w^ord- exercises, should always contain an exact presen- tation of the enth'e root of every word, whether written on the blackboard, on the slate, or on paper. Note. — The apparent awkwardness of the com- bination of letters thus presented to the eye, is no objection to the practice recommended. On the contrary, it serves to aid a distinct impression on the mind, as to the fact which is, for the moment, before it ; and the previous careful training in written spel- ling and syllabication, in the forms which have been suggested, will always afford a sufficient guaranty for the correctness of habit in the ordinary forms of writing. \ ^ The full plan of exercises in etymological ana- lysis, including all the component elements of * The octavo editions of Worcester and Webster, are suffi- cient for all the ordinary wants of students and teachers, in re- gard to etymology. Webster's, in particular, is very full, and highly instructive, in this branch. Reid's, formerly mentioned, is peculiary convenient for school use. ETYMOLOGICAL ANALYSIS. 73 words, may be exemplified thus, on the words Instruction and Destruction : Prefix. Root. Suffix. In- -struct- -ion. Signification^ in, build, act, or condition. De- -struct- -ion. Sign, down, (un) build, act, or condition. Suggestions to Teachers. — The extent to which exercises on the roots of words may be carried, can be best decided, in all cases, by the teacher at the time of instruction. Classes too young for the use of a large dictionary, may have the roots of words inscribed for them, by the teacher or an advanced pupil, on the blackboard. All pupils, however, who are of sufficient age to be taught etymology, should be required to commit to memory, and exemplify fully,- the prefixes and suiRxes of words. No class in any school can be deemed so far advanced as not to be greatly benefited by a daily lesson in etymolo- gy ; and of all word-exercises the etymological ana- lysis should always be a prominent part.* The most accomplished adult student will find it a high- ly useful as well as pleasing exercise, to prescribe himself a daily task of this description. At no slight- er cost can the student of the English language at- tain to that perfect mastery over it, which Milton attributes to the true scholar, whose words, he says, trip about him like so many nimble, airy servitors, * The preparation of a daily lesson on a given number of words from the successive columns of a dictionary, for successive years, is a light tax to pay for an "intelligent, correct, and appro- priate use of our own language ; and in few other ways can the hours of youth be more usefully or agreeably occupied. The ety- mological analysis of the principal words of, at least, every read- ing lesson, in every class of a school, should be regarded as form- ing an indispensable part of the preparation for the reading of the lesson. 7 74 EXERCISES ON WORDS. and fall obediently and aptly into their places. The unequalled copiousness of our language, makes a perfect command over its resources the business of many years, and demands, accordingly, an attention somewhat proportioned to that which, in the estab- lished routine of education, is assigned to the noble languages of antiquity. Fortunately, the education- al world, both in England and America, is awaken- ing to a juster sense than formerly prevailed, of the value of our own language, as the most effectual means of mental culture and discipline, whether we regard the acquirements of the individual, or the business of social hfe. To the teacher, in the daily toils of the school- room, no exercise can be suggested, on which the young mind seizes with such avidity, as that of trac- ing the meaning of w^ords by their derivation. A few oral explanations, given as an experiment, will be sufficient to convince any who have not aheady adopted this part of grammatical instruction, of its immense value and its living interest. After an earnest and arduous day's work on other subjects, classes quite young will turn with eagerness to this. The dawning consciousness of both its own wants and its own powers, stimulates the young mind to inquire into and investigate everything connected with language, which it instinctively feels to be its peculiar scope for action and progress. The con- sciousness of expanding and deepening knowledge, which, in this direction, rewards every advancing step, is ample remuneration for every effort. EXERCISE V. SIGNIFICATION AND MEANING OF WORDS. Introductory Eayplunations. — Derivation, or etymo- logical analysis, enables us to trace a word to the original signification and consequent value of all its constituent parts. We are thus put in command of the true meaning and full power of the words which we wish to use, and are prepared to deal with them not as mere counters, but the sterling current coin of language, whose value we ourselves appreciate, and others feel and acknowledge. The word instruction, already analysed, we may take as a convenient example of the nature and use of the particular form of word-exercise on which we are now ready to enter. The etymological analysis, by which the word was reduced to its component parts, showed that of these there were no fewer than three ; of which the first represented the idea expressed by the word m ; the second suggested the conception of building; and the third the notion of condition, ox process. With this key to the significa- tion of all its parts, we arrive at that of the whole word, — so richly suggestive, so full of thought, and so monitory to the mind both of pupil and teacher, — that instruction is a process of building in. The literal and original application of the word, in its primary sense, with all its beautiful, figurative signi- ficance, thus standing revealed and open to us, we have it in our power to determine its secondary sense, — its exact and appropriate meaning, in the (75) 76 EXERCISES ON WORDS. current usage of our own day, — according to which it is applied to designate tlte didactic^ or doctrinal part of education. But both these words, instruction and education, belong to the part of our language wliich consists of words originally Latin. They are no part of the primitive vernacular tongue of our childhood, — the vocabulary to which we must always refer, as a standard and a guide, in interpreting or endeavoring to understand the meaning of the other words of our language, — those which belong to the written usage of authors and of books. We have yet another step to take, before Ave could answer the child's question, " What does * instruction ' mean ? " — The answer to this question will bring out a word yet more fami- liar, one which belongs to the plain language of early hfe and of every-day use, and therefore gives the meaning more fully, more definitely, and more clear- ly. The word in question is " teaching." Beyond this word we feel that we do not need to go, and, indeed, cannot go, in endeavoring to simplify and explain ; because, in the use of this term, we have come home to our original native dialect, in which the thing signified is, from early association, imme- diately suggested by the word. The primitive signification of a word, is, in gene- ral, a sure guide to its true import and proper appli- cation. But, as in the progress of the history of a language, national development is ever modifying the sense of old terms, as well as introducing ncAV ones, the mere original signification of a word, is not always a security for its precise meaning and pro- per use, or its actual acceptation at a given period.* * Students and teachers who are accustomed to refer to that noble monument of erudition and indefatigable labor, Richard- son's New l^ictionary of the English Language, will have re- marked that the author of the present volume ventures to differ SIGNIFICATION AND MEANING OF WORDS. 77 Hence, to interpret or to employ language appro- priately, it is not enough that we know the idea primarily suggested by any word: we must know the precise shade of thought to which it is applied, in good usage, in our own day, — a stage of attain- ment which we can reach by no other means than extensive reading, attentive study, and good instruc- tion, followed by careful practice in writing and con- versation. Exercise. — The practical part of the exercise on the signification and meaning of words, is performed by (i.) mentioning, if the word is coni- poundy the parts of which it consists ; (2.) if it is complex^ naming and explaining the prefix and suffix^ and the root^ with its derivation; (3.) stating the primary sense, or the literal and original sig- nification of the whole word; (4.) its secondary sense, or its precise meanings in the actual contem- poraneous use of language ; (5.) giving an exam- ple^ in a phrase^ or a sentence^ of its appropriate application^ as follows : from that eminent authority, on the distinction made between the terms signification and meaning. A practical manual, such as this, affords no room for discussions, were it proper to offer here a de- fence of the distinction observed, in the above and preceding in- stances, in these pages. But to the teacher, at least, it may be permitted to say, that his office, as a matter of experience, in the explanation of words, often is, to deduce and evolve, through the successive stages of philological and psychological associations, the meaning, or actual sense of a word from its primary and literal sense, — and from its signification, (s/^'/i-power,) or mere etymologi- cal reference, to educe its secondary sense, in the form, perhaps, of a metaphorical, or even highly j^^ura^a'e, interpretation. The signi- fication is the letter; the meaning is the spirit; and, as in higher and sacred relations, the one may " kill ", while the other " gives life." 7# 78 EXERCISES ON WORDS. "INSTRUCTION". Analysis: Prefix, in-, signifying in or into ; Suffix, -ion, signifying con- dition or process ; Root, -struct-, derived from the Latin language, and signifying building'. — Orig- inal Signification, process of building" in. — Ac- tual Meaning, teaching, or didactic information. — Examples : " Take fast hold of Instruction ; let her not go ; keep her ; for she is thy life." " Some things we learn from instruction ; some, from experience." " Instruction is but a limited part of education." * Suggestions to Students. — The adult student who wishes to trace satisfactorily the successive changes which the sense of many of the words of our lan- guage has undergone, in the progress of years, will find great benefit from the use of Hichardson's " Dic- tionary of the English Language," t in which these modifications are distinctly shown, and exemplified by quotations from eminent writers, in all the pro- minent successive stages of English literature. Re- ference, however, to any dictionary of sufiicient size to contain copious quotations, — as, for example, Johnson's, in quarto form, — will be adequate au- thority for deciding or sanctioning the actual use of words. Worcester's Critical Dictionary, and the quarto edition of Webster, may also be mentioned as very exact and reliable guides in such investiga- tions. * The exercise on the signification and meaning of words, when performed by classes, should extend to all the words as- signed as the daily lesson in etymological analysis. t Republished by Butler & Co., Philadelphia. EXERCISE VI. DEFINITION OF WORDS. Introductory Explanations. — The processes de- scribed in preceding exercises, have prepared the student to trace the primary sense, or original mean- ing, of words, and thence to deduce their secondary sense, or cuiTcnt acceptation and actual use. There remains yet another step to be taken, to enable him to satisfy his own mind as to what, in any given case, is the precise import and full value of a word, as used by standard writers, or to aid him in decid- ing on what word he ought, in any instance, to em- ploy as the exact expression of his own thought. This result is obtained by " defining " the particular word which is the subject of his inquiries; — or, rather, we should say, by defining the idea which he wishes to apprehend or to express. The signification (or sign-power) of a word, de- pends, as we have seen, on its derivation, but its present meaning and actual use, on the practice of reliable contemporary writers. When it becomes necessary to explain, or account for, the meaning, we have to go behind the forms of language, and define the idea itself, which the word represents. The cor- rect and clear explanation of the meaning of a word, will, therefore, in some cases, depend on the accu- racy of this mental process of defining. In such cir- cumstances, we appeal to the decision of logic, the science which takes cognisance of the process of definition, as well as of all other forms of thought C79) 60 EXERCISES ON WORDS. consisting in the systematic exercise of the reason- ing faculty, and determines the applications of lan- guage to thought, by the decisions of judgment, as, in such cases, the ultimate authority. We do not, it is true, always need the aid of the strictly scientific process of formal definition, to ren- der us competent to appreciate duly, or apply pro- perly, the words of our own language ; and it is not less true that we learn much of our language by rote, from merely observing the sense which others, in writing and speaking, give to the expressions which they use. But to the student of language this mere intuition is not a systematic or a satisfac- tory knowledge, such as education and discipline demand. He wishes often to know, and to know with definite certainty, why a given word expresses a given idea, and how far it is capable of suggesting the precise shade of meaning, which, in any case, is to be assigned to it. To satisfy his mind on these points, he must not only see into the signification of every syllable of the word, but must have an exact conception of the idea which is to be attached to it, that he may judge of the correctness of his ap- prehension of the thought expressed by another, or of the fitness of a given word to express the thought which he himself wishes to communicate. In these circumstances, the process of definition is the only sure guide to a decision which carries with it the certainty of demonstration. Definition, as " a logical description," is, simply, a process of classification, which presents the genus, or larger class, and the species, or smaller class, to which an object or an idea belongs. The word which de- notes the larger class, is accordingly called the gene- ric or general term, and that which denotes the small- er class, the specific or differential term. Expressed in the technical language of logic, definition is the statement of a subject by its generic term in con- DEFINITION OF WOUDS. 81 nection with its specific difference. Thus, in the proposition, or sentence, " Man is a reasoning ani- mal", "ma7i'\ the subject, is defined by the generic or general term, '' animaV\ and the specific difference " reasoning." The idea of man is thus presented in its general form, or larger classification, by the word animal, the more " comprehensive " term, — in con- nection with the distinctive conception, or more limit- ed classification, expressed by the word reasoning, a term extending to closer detail, and hence denomi- nated, in logic, the more " extensive " term. The process of definition is sometimes employed to distinguish an individual from a species, or from a comparatively small class. Thus, in the sentence, " Cicero was an ambitious man," the differential word ambitious, distinguishes Cicero from other men. In the sentence, " Cicero was an eloquent orator," the discriminative epithet distinguishes him from other orators merely. We may now return to the word instruction, which we have already analysed by derivation, so as to as- certain its true meaning and proper use. To define instruction, we should term it didactic infjrmation ; — i. e. information given or received by the process of teaching. In this definition, the general term is information; the specific is didactic, or teaching. The plan of written exercises in definition would, conse- quently, be exemplified in the following form. Exercise. — " Instruction." — Definition : — Didactic information ; or Information given or re- ceived by the process of teaching. — General Term, Information; Specific, Teaching* * The exercise in definition is designed for pupils more ad- vanced than those supposed to be occupied with the preceding exercises only, and is meant to be limited to those words which the pupils of a given class might not otherwise so fully under- stand or appreciate. 82 EXERCISES ON WORDS. Suggestions to Students. — On the importance of exact definition, as indispensable to clear thought and correct expression, it seems unnecessary to dwell, at great length. Definition, we see, leads to distinc- tion ; and distinction leads, in turn, to discrimination. Without these aids, our ideas would often have no distinctness of outline ; our thoughts would conse- quently be obscure, and our expression vague and indefinite. The value of the practice of defining, as an intel- lectual discipline, is second to that of no other, in the training of the mind to strict accuracy in its modes and habits of action. It is, in fact, as has been mentioned, a purely logical process, which lies at the foundation of distinct perception, true judg- ment, and correct reasoning. As an exercise in lan- guage, it is of the utmost importance ; since it is the only reliable means of attaining to precision, force, accuracy, or propriety of expression. Students of the highest standing in any seminary in which the study of the English language forms a part of the academic course, should make a daily practice of training themselves to exactness and promptness in defining ; so as to become thoroughly prepared for the highest efforts of composition and of oratory. As a preparation for premeditated or ex- temporaneous speaking, such discipline is invalua- ble. It accustoms the mind to decide instantly, and with certainty, on the selection and application of terms, wdth reference to clear, correct, and impres- sive communication, and a ready command of ap- propriate language.* * Webster's Unabridged Dictionary excels in tbe fullness and exactness of its definitions, and the useful information in wbich it abounds. It will be found an excellent source from whrch to derive the requisite materials for constructing definitions in strict logical form. EXERCISE VIL SYNONYMS. Introductory Explaimtions. — The word synonyms is derived from two Greek words, meaning common desig?iation, or coincidence of expression. It is ap- plied to two or more words having the same, or nearly the same, signification. The careful study and strict analysis of language, however, teach us that no two words can be found, which have pre- cisely an identical meaning. The very existence of two separate words, called synonymous, proves that one was not found sufiicient, in all circumstances, to supply the place of the other ; — that there was a shade of diversity in objects, or in ideas, to express which there was needed another word than the one which we may suppose to have been first in use. Close examination, and a discriminating use of lan- guage, will always enable us, in such cases, to detect, under the general sameness, the specific difference ; — just as, on our fii'st introduction to a family of human beings, we may find difficulty in distinguish- ing the individuals who compose it, but, on more in- timate acquaintance, we learn to trace their differ- ences of form and features, and thus, ere long, easily recognise every member. By a similar act of dis- crimination, we trace distinctions in the sense of words, which, at first view, seem to have an absolute identity of meaning, and are, accordingly, classed as " synonyms." The numerous resemblances which exist among (83) 84 EXERCISES ON WORDS. objects, and the consequent similarity of the ideas which we form of them, necessarily produce a cor- responding approach to sameness in the meaning of the words by which we express them. This remark applies, with equal, and, sometimes, greater force, to the ideas and conceptions which we form within the mind itself, independently, for the moment, of exter- nal things. From the fact now referred to, there arises a great danger of confusion and obscurity, in expression. In circumstances nearly identical, yet somewhat different, the diversity is apt to escape our notice. That diversity, however, may be of the greatest moment to a proper estimation of the case. The detection of the slightest difference may be requisite, in order to draw the line of discrimination, in thought and language, between similarity and dis- similarity, between truth and error, between virtue and vice, between innocence and guilt. To recognise distinctions amidst apparent resem- blance, in the meaning and use of words, must be an indispensable requisite to the right interpretation and proper use of language, — the appointed means for the communication of thought, and the advancement of intelligence. It is not less an invaluable aid, as an exercise and discipline of mind, and the chief means of training it to exactness and precision of thought, — the main condition of success in the dis- covery and exposition of truth. The ancient definition of rhetoric, which made it consist in saying the fit word in the fit place, is pe- culiarly suggestive as to the value of a perfect knowledge of synonyms. To enable us to express an idea with precision and clearness, we must have the whole treasury of English words, lying, as it were, before us, from which to select the one which exactly expresses our meaning, — presenting it fully, leaving no imperfection arising from want of defi- niteness, of force, or of breadth of expression, in con- SYNONYMS. 85 sequence of which deficiency, the idea would stand, like a mutilated statue, deprived of some important feature. Neither must the word which we select, suggest more than we wish to communicate. The idea which we would express, must stand forth by itself, unembarrassed by any extraneous and unne- cessary matter, which might tend only to distract the attention, and obscure our mental view, and conse- quently to create confusion, as to the actual mean- ing intended. Language is sometimes justly called the dress of thought ; and this view of it suggests the lesson implied in the figurative definition. The well- fitting garment is neither scanty nor redundant, but exactly proportioned to the person of the wearer. A well-chosen word, in like manner, is neither deficient nor superfluous, in the sense which it conveys. It resembles what is happily termed, in geometry, a " neat " demonstration, in which every part of the process comes forth clear, distinct, and exact, — leav- ing no deficiency, and presenting no redundancy. — The discriminating use of synonyms, renders expres- sion not merely perspicuous, but luminous, to the understanding. The primary exercise of collecting or enumerating synonyms, may be exemplified in the following form.* Exercise. — (i.) The Collecting of Synonyms. The first step in an exercise on synonyms, is duly to collect all the words which our language fur- nishes as synonymous, in any case, with a given word. Suggestion to Students. — To train the mind to promptness and self-reliance, in this part of the ex- * A few words, — nouns, adjectives, or verbs, — which have the largest number of synonyms, may be assigned, from the daily reading lesson of a class, as subjects for this form of exercise. 86 EXERCISES ON WORDS. ercise, the student should make it a strict rule to himself always to endeavor to call up, in the first place, all such words as his own mind can furnish, from intuition and from memory. When he has done this act of justice to his own self-culture, he may then appeal to the aid of the dictionary, and ransack its references, from word to word, till he has exhausted the vocabulary of the language, so far as concerns the synonyms which he wishes to com- mand.=^ Example. — " Action ", — act, activity, acting, agency; motion, momentum, play; power, force, energy, vehemence, violence, exertion, eifort, effi- ciency; practice, operation, process, exercise, per formance, doing, deed, feat, achievement, exploit, perpetration ; impetus, impulsion, impulse, incitation, impetuosity, petulance, incitement, incentive, insti- gation, influence, stimulus, excitation, excitement, agitation, irritation, stir, bustle, commotion, ferment- ation, perturbation, ebullition, struggle, battle ; work, business, labor, toil, task, drudgery, employment, oc- cupation, vocation, pursuit, calling, profession ; ap- plication, diligence, industry ; procedure, proceeding, transaction, job, attempt, experiment, endeavor, dab- bling; gesture, gesticulation, antic, trick; play, re- creation, game, sport, frolic, diversion, amusement, pastime.t Note. The synonyms, m the above example, are grouped by semicolons, according to their nearest connections in sense, and the nicer or broader shades * Crabb's Synonyms, and other works of similar character, will be useful aids in this part of an exercise on words. But no vol- ume can be named, which, for this purpose, is equal to lioget's Thesaurus of English Words, rc-edited by President Sears, and by Professor Lincoln, of Brown University. t The idea expressed by the primary word, in the above enu- meration, creates such a multitude of synonymous terms, by all of which it may be represented, that only a selection of the most important could be offered. SYNONYMS. 87 of meaning by which they vary from one another. This arrangement is designed to faciHtate the exem- phfication of subsequent exercises, as well as the present and the one immediately following. Exercise. — (2.) Application of Synonyms. When the student has collected all the synonyms io a given word, which occur to his memory, and all the additional ones derived from his dictionary, he may proceed to exemplify the proper use of them individually, by introducing each in a phrase or in a sentence, in which the context is of such a character that no other member of the same fam- ily of synonyms, can be substituted for it, without injury to the form of expression, in the whole clause in which it occurs.* Example. — " Action " : All action implies motion. Act : The incendiary was detected in the very act. — Activity : Activity is indispensable to success in business. Acting : A man may be an accomplice in crime without acting. — Agency : He may employ the agency of others. — Motion : The motion of the arm and hand, is a natural accompaniment of speech. — Momentunfi : The physicist will give you the mo- mentum of a planet. — Flay : The play of the differ- ent parts of the machine is perfect. — Power : The power to act does not always accompany the poiver to wiU. — Force : The entrance was effected by main force. — Energy : A mind destitute of energy can ef- * This exercise is properly one of intuitive recognition, merely, and may be advantageously practised, to a certain extent, by even the younger members of a grammar class. It may be diversified by the teacher giving out sentences in which the places for the synonyms are left blank, to be filled up by the pupil. 88 EXEUCISES ON WORDS. feet little, either for itself or for others. — Vehemence : Demosthenes was remarkable for vehemence of utter- ance. — Violence : War is systematic violence, sanc- tioned by national custom. — Exertion : Nothing val- uable can be acquired by a mind which shrinks from exertion. — Effort: Sloth cannot be shaken off with- out an ejbrt. — Efficiency : Activity is of little value, unless it result in efficiency. — Practice : The utility of theory is demonstrated hj practice. — Operation: The experiment proved an expensive ojjeration. — Process : The operator went through a tedious pro- cess. — Exercise : Passion may prevent the exercise of reason. — Performance : Shame attends the con- scious performance of a mean action. — Doing : He plainly saw the folly of his clxnngs. — Deed: Whether praise or blame should be bestowed on the daring deed, seems doubtful. — Feat : The knight exhibited his prowess in an unrivalled yea^ of arms. — Achieve- ment : To conquer passion is a high achievement. — Exploit: The fame of his exploit was spread throughout Christendom. — Perpetration : The thoughtless youth was, ere long, tempted to the per- petration of crime. — Imj^etus : The impetus of a mis- sile is diminished by distance. — Impulsion : The bar of iron was subjected to the three great tests of ten- sion, torsion, and imjndsion. — Impulse, imiietuodty , petulance: The youth was actuated by impulse rather than principle, and by impetuosity rather than true courage. He often gave way to fits of petu- lance. — Incitation: The incitation of ungovemed passion leads to many a fatal act. — Incitement : The desire of fame is, too often, the sole incitement of the warrior. — Incentive : The hope of booty is, some- times, the incentive to battle. — Instigation : The deed was perpetrated at the instigation of malice. — Influence : The influence of a mother's tenderness he had never felt. — Stimidus : He was impelled by the stimulus of a morbid appetite. — Excitation : The SYNONYMS. 89 excitation of evil passions, stifles the voice of con- science. — Excitement : In the excitement of battle, humanity is lost. — Agitation : He never betrayed the agitation of passion. — Irritation : He was above the reach of paltry irritation. — Stir : The intelli- gence caused a great stir in the crowd. — Bustle : The household was in all the bustle of preparation for a hasty departure. — Commotion : The elements were in violent commotio?!. — Fermentation : The con- tradictory tidings kept the minds of the people in cease- less /6^r??^e7^^^^^o?^. — Perturbation: The dreaded ap- proach of the enemy threw the inhabitants of the town into the greatest perturbation. — Ebullition: The ebulli- tions of popular fury were absolutely frightful. — Struggle : His was a life of struggle. — Battle : Lu- ther's words were so remarkable for their force, that they have been called half battles. — Work : Work is a primary want of man's nature. — Busi?iess : Busi- ness is but a more imposing form of work. — Labor : Man was designed to lead a life of labor, ( — Toil: ) but not of exhausting toil. — Task :' The labor of the day is a sufiicient task,( — Brudgery:) without the addition of domestic drudgery. — Employment : It is a privilege of the rich to give employment and remu- neration to the poor. — Occupation: Feeble and helpless must be that mind which is not competent to provide itself with occupation. — Vocation : The vocation of teaching ought to be placed on the foot- ing of a recognised profession. — Pursuit : Of all the 'pursuits in which man engages, that of pleasure is, sometimes, the most laborious. — Calling : He con- scientiously fulfilled the duties of his humble calling. — Profession : He aspired to the position of a lib- eral profession. — Application : Too close application exhausts both body and mind. — Diligence: Dili- gence alone can secure valuable acquirements. — In- dustry : Industry is an indispensable condition of success in life. — Procedure : The procedure of the 8# 90 EXERCISES ON WORDS. executive anthority was, in that case, one of ques- tionable policy. — Proceeding: The proceedings of the public meeting were duly reported. — Transac- tion : The transaction reflected no great credit on those who took part in it. — Job : The whole aifair turned out a mean and disgraceful job. — Attemj^t : The attempt was baffled. — Exjieriment : The expe- riment was satisfactory. — Endeavor: A life spent without endeavor, is ignoble. — Dabbling: He lost his property by dabbling in stocks. — Gesture : The action which accompanies human speech, is proper- ly termed gesture. — Gesticulation : The chattering of monkeys is sometimes accompanied by gesticula- tion : * — Antic : The recitation of the verses was accompanied by odd postures and antics. — Trick : The tricks of trade are sometimes exposed. — Flay : All work and no play, is proverbially an injudicious regimen. — Recreation : Recreation may justly be termed a necessity of man's constitution. — Game : The mind is exercised, as well as entertained, by the vicissitudes of a game of chess. — Sport : The tiring was done in sport. — Frolic : Fun and frolic need guarding against excess. — Fkversion : Seasonable diversion relieves the depressing effect of assiduous grave application. — Amusement : Quiet amusements relish longest. — Fo^time: The masques and other pastimes of the Elizabethan age, served, at once, to unbend and to inspire the mind. * It is a prevalent error, with American writers, to confound the meaning of the above terms, and use them as strictly synony- mous. For the distinctive and appropriate use of these words, see Richardson's Dictionary. — " Or what their servile apes yesli- cMlateP Ben Jonson. — " The gesture of man is the speech of his body." Wilson^ — quoting Cicero. SYNONYMS. 91 Exercise. — (3.) DeJimtlo7i of Synonyms. lExplanatory Observations. — To students who are sufficiently advanced, the following form of exercise will be found of great benefit, as regards a distinct apprehension of the precise ideas expressed by sy- nonymous terms, and an intelligent appreciation and discriminating use of language. The practice of this exercise is designed to form a guard against any remissness of attention or misapprehension of ex- pression, which might lead to the error of conceiving one word to be synonymous with another, while its acceptation was actually different. The consequen- ces of such a mistake must necessarily be a misun- derstanding and misinterpretation of the language of others, or error and confusion arising from our own. The exercise now in view, is a logical pro- cess of verification, by which words occurring to the mind as synonymous, may be brought to a strict test, before being accepted as such. A security is thus afforded against the numerous errors caused by obscurity and ambiguity of expression, which neces- sarily tend to mislead the mind, and defeat the pur- pose of language. The defining of synonyms requires the same pro- cess as in the case of other words, — the presenta- tion of a generic, or general term, and of one con- taining the specific difference. But the proof of the exactness of the definition, as regards synonymous words, turns on this point, — that, though all the words of any given family of synonyms, have their discriminating shades of difference of meaning, from the general term, and from one another, the state- ment of the definition, in every instance, brings the word into a relation corresponding to that of species to genus, when we compare it with the generic term, or parent word. The process, then, of defin- 92 EXERCISES ON WORDS. ing synonyms, reduces itself to the following brief formula. Form of Exercise. — Having collected a group of synonyms to be defined, select from them the word which is the most general and comprehensive in its sense, and, employ it as a generic term, by the use of which, all the others may be defined, by a statement of their specific difference of acceptation. Remark. — If the right word has been selected for the generic term, and all the other words of the group are really synonymous, all of them, when brought to the test of the logical formula, will be found to agree with the primary in their general cha- racter, but to differ from it, specifically ^ and from one another, individually. EXAMPLE. — "Action." Act, a single action; ACTIVITY, tendency to action; acting, fact of action; AGENCY, medium of action : * Motion, action in space; momentum, yorce and velocity of action ; f play, motive, action: Power, capability o^ ViOXion; force, intensive action ; energy, inward pmver of action ; vehemence, empassioned force of action; violence, excessive force of action; exertion, inchoative action; effort, energetic tendency to action ; efficiency, ef- fective action : Practice, exterior action ; operation, complex action; process, continuous action; exer- cise, '2;oZww^ar«/ action; PERFORMANCE, ^a^a5/e action; Doing, ordinary form of voluntary action ; deed, ex- traordinary form of voluntary action ; feat, arduous * The capital initial letter indicates the commencement of a new proup of synonyms. t The definitions, in some of the examples, are modified by reference to the allusions implied in the examples adduced in the exercise on the application of synonyms. \ SYNONYMS. action: achievement, consummate action; exploit, illustrious action; perpetration, guilt?/ action: Im- petus, communicated force of action; impulsion, j^ro- pelling action; impulse, action o^ feeling ; impetuos- ity, unrestrained action o^ feeling ; petulance, im- patient action of feeling : Incitation, impelling ac- tion o^ feeling ; incitement, m^ral "motive action; y^- cY.i^TivB, inflammatory inciting action; instigation, stimulating action; influence, tacit action; stimu- lus, irritating action ; excitation, arousing action ; excitement, ^jrovoctt^we action; agitation, extremely excited action ; irritation, unduly excited action : Stir, ea;aYe^ action; bustle, ostentatious action; com- motion, commingling excited action; fermentation, confused excited action; perturbation, disturbed ac- tion; ebullition, violent commotive action; effer- vescence, excessive commotive action; struggle, ob- structed action ; battle, combative action : Work, obvious action; BVQn^^?>s,intercommunicative action; LABOR, continuous strenuous action; toil, excessive continuous action ; task, appointed action ; drudgery, servile action; employment, 5^eczy?c action; occupa- tion, co?^Zm^^o^/5 5/;cci^c action ; vocation, <2ccw5^om- ed specific action ; pursuit, prosecuting or sequent ac- tion ; CALLING, designated ^pursuit, or mode of indus- trial action; profession, licensed scientific vocation: Application, earnest attentive action; diligence, sus- tained application; assiduity, irrolonged application; INDUSTRY, habitually continued, laborious action: Pro- cedure, course of action; proceeding, formal ac- tion; TRANSACTION, specific busincss action; job, oc- casional action: Attempt, intended action; experi- ment, tentative action; endeavor, aim of action; dabbling, insignificant action : Gesture, oratorical action; gesticulation, bodily action; antic, m^ock action : Trick, illusive action : Play, relaxing ac- tion; sLEC'R.is.A.iiio'^, renovating action; game, amusive form of action; sport, inleasurable action; frolic, 94 EXERCISES ON WORDS. mirthful ^oiion \ diversion, sportive vicissitude of ac- tion ; AMUSEMENT, entertaining action ; pastime, fes- tive action. Exercise. — (4.) Discrimination of Synonyms, Explanatory Observations. — The practice of the foregoing exercise, is designed to faciUtate the ready recognition of the relationship, or imity of significa- tion, existing among words that are properly syno- nymous, — so far as that designation can, with pro- priety, be apphed. The exercises which follow, are intended for the opposite effect of rendering the mind critically acute in discriminating the specific and in- dividual differences of meaning, discernible among the groups and pairs of synonyms wliich may be comprehended and defined under one and the same general term. The former exercise led us to consi- der the abstract idea which, as a primary basis, is common to all the members of a family of syno- nyms, and proves the justice of their claim to a place in the household : the present leads us to dwell on their particular characteristics, and traits of differ- ence, in groups, and individually, that we may not confound them by too hasty or careless observation, but recognise distinctly the place and the claims of each. We formerly wished to bring them, as nearly as practicable to agreement and to unity : we now wish, by narrow inspection, to detect those pecu- liarties which may make them differ as widely as possible. Our course is analogous to that of the na- turalist who wishes to draw a sharply defined line of distinction, between the species of a given genus and the varieties of a given species. He dwells on the minutest points of difference, and, when neces- SYNONYMS. 95 sary, calls in the aid of the microscope itself, to en- able him to determine, with perfect precision, the exact form of every distinctive feature. A similar process of nice discrimination, is requi- site, in order to discern the diiference in the mean- ing of words so nearly similar in signification as to render it difficult, at fii'st sight, to recognise the pro- per distinction to be made in interpreting or apply- ing them. To miss, in such cases, even the most delicate shading or gradation of meaning, is to lose,' perhaps, the significance or the beauty of expres- sion, or a vital distinction in thought. An exact dis- crimination of synonyms, is the true test of scholar- ship and skill in our own language, and requires the same assiduous application and thorough training by which critical acumen is attained in the study of the ancient classics. In attempting to discriminate synonyms, two pre- liminary processes are of great moment, — derivation and definition. By tracing the denvation of both words, in cases of near approximation to identity of signification in any two, we take one step, and, per- haps, a successful one, towards the detection of an original difierence in their signification, arising from diversity in the objects or ideas to which they were first applied. Following this suggestive hint, the mind seizes a distinction in thought, and recognises the corresponding discrimination in language, — whether in tracing the sense of a word employed by another, or in choosing expression for its own con- ceptions. — We may select the synonyms diversion and recreation, as an illustration of the use of ety- mological analysis, in aiding us to determine the precise signification of words liable to be used as synonymous. By tracing the derivation of the form- er, we find the primitive signification to be turning aside. The term diversion, therefore, suggests mere- ly the idea of turning aside, for relief from applica- 96 EXERCISES ON WORDS. tion. The form of action which we substitute as a rehef from wearisome or fatiguing exertion, is not specified by the word diversion : it may be a salu- tary, or it may be an injurious change of action : its effects are not intimated. The term recreation, on the other hand, not only suggests the idea of a change of action, but a salutary, a re-creating, or renovating change. The proper discrimination, then, in the interpreta- tion or the use of these two terms, implies the re- cognition of a distinction founded on the diffei-ence of degree, — that of less and greater, — in their signi- fication ; the latter term transcending the former in the extent of meaning suggested. Another aid to discrimination in the use of syno- nyms, consists in tracing the effect of definition on terms closely allied in signification. Defining, when correctly performed, as a process of thought logical- ly embodied in language, necessarily gives, along with the generic term, in any case, the specific or the individual difference of character in its theme or subject. It involves, therefore, the mental distinc- tion which that difference implies, and thus furnish- es the means of making the proper discrimination in the expression of that distinction. The definition of synonyms, as such, therefore, consists in nothing more than presenting words of similar signification, defined in pairs, for the purpose of being discriminated, by their specific or individual differences of meaning, in the manner exemi)lified in the following formula. Form of Exercise. — From the whole num- ber of words collected as synonyms to a given word, select the two loJiich come nearest to iden- tity of signification. — (1.) Define each by what- ever word in the group has the most general and comprehensive meaning. — (2.) Compare the two SYNONYMS. 97 terms which express the specific difference^ as given in the words of the definition ; and state the dis- Unction in thought, founded on the difference of things, by which the sense of each synonym is to be discriminated. — (3.) Exemplify the discri- mination, in one or more sentences, as may be best adapted to a clear exposition of its accm-acy, in consequence of the justness of the distinction on which it rests, and the actual difference of things which calls for the distinction.* EXAMPLES. .Act, Deed. Definition : Act, a single action ; Deed, a volun- tary action. Distinction, founded on the differ- ence of general and particular. Discrimination : " The action which was extolled as a good deed, was but an act of necessity." Force, Energy. Definition : Force, active power ; t Energy, in- herent power. Distinction, founded on the differ- ence between external and internal. Discrimina- tion : " The power of the monarch was felt in the * The above prescribed form of exercise, combining rhetorical and logical with grammatical discipline, is designed, as has been mentioned, for advanced students, and is presented here with a view to complete the plan of a series of exercises on words. It may be omitted, at the discretion of the teacher, in the instruc- tion of particular classes. t The distinction will sometimes be rendered more precise by selecting, for the moment, as a generic term, the leading word ia a group of synonyms, though it may not be so generally compre- hensive as the primary word of the whole theme. In the descend- ing scale of distinctions, a word of more comprehensive significa- tion than another, becomes virtually, to it, a generic term, in definition. 9 98 EXERCISES ON WORDS. energy of his character, rather than in the force of his will." Exertion, Effort. Definition : Exertion, exercise of energy ; Effort, exercise o^ force. Distinction, founded on the dif- ference between internal and external activity. Dis- crimination : The laborer was successful in his exertions to support his family. The fireman suc- ceeded, by an almost superhuman effort, in saving the hfe of one of the children." Feat, Exploit. Definition : Feat, arduous action ; Exploit, illus- trious action. Distinction, founded on the differ- ence hetween personal and social xel^iions. Discri- mination : " He was a youth who delighted not less in feats of personal strength, than in daring exphits on the battle-field." Incitement, Incentive. Definition : Incitement, normal moral motive ; Incentive, abnormal moral motive. Distinction, founded on the difference between regular and ir- regular action. Discrimination : " Eloquence some- times proves an incentive to passion, rather than in- citement to duty." Indtation, Instigation. Definition : Indtation, impelling motive ; Instiga- tion, violently impelling motive. Distinction, found- ed on the difference of degree as less or more. Dis- crimination : "Ambition proves, in some men, a healthful indtation of the noblest energies of the soul ; in others, a maddening instigation of its worst passions." Agitation, Commotion. Definition ; Agitation, extremely excited action ; SYNONYMS. ? 99 Commotion, excited commingling a:ction. ' Distinc- tion, founded on the difference bet^en simple and ^ complex materials. Discrimination : " The agita- tion and violence of the speaker, excited a sympa- thetic commotion in his audience." Work, Labor. Definition: Work, active exertion; Labor, conti' nwms exertion. Distinction, founded on the dif- ference between occasional and habitual action. Dis- crimination : " Work, in moderation, is a pleasing form of exercise ; labor, to the weak, becomes weari- some toiir Employment, Occupation. Definition ; Lmploijment, specific action ; Occupa^ tion, continuous specific action. Distinction, found- ed on the difference between occasional and habitual exertion. Discrimination : *' The nian found em- phyment at occasional jobs, but still wished for a more regular mode of occupation!' Vocation, Calliyig. Definition : Vocation, accustomed occupation ; Calling, designated industrial occupation. Distinc- tion, founded on the difference of general and par- ticular. Discrimination : " Men who attempt to live without a vocation, often fall victims to the en- nui of indolence or the seductions of vice. Better to toil in the humblest calling, than stagnate in inac- tivity." Pursuit, Profession. Definition : Pursuit, habitual occupation ; Pro- fession, occupation followed by a body of licensed members. Distinction, founded on the difference of general Q.nd particulw. Discrimination: "Many members of the learned professions find time for the cultivation of science, literature, or art, or for en- gaging in some other favorite pursuit.'' LCISES ON WORDS. *.r£"ft* CQ'uHTi ^^^Jmplication, Diligence. ir*f OF^^I^ti^Tm^i^^ Application, attentive and earnest v^f^^^f'ij^'Tnligence, sustained activity. Distinction, founded on the difference between zeal and perse- verance. Discrimination : " The power of applica- tion and the habit of diligence, are the guaranties of success in business." Diligence, Industry. Definition : Diligence, sustained activity ; Indus- try, habitual laborious activity. Distinction, found- ed on the difference between meyital and bodily ex- ertion. Discrimination : " The diligence of the stu- dent, and the industry of the farmer, have, equally, their rewards." Diligence, Assiduity. DefinitioiW Diligence, sustained activity ; Assi- duity, 2:>rolong^ activity. Distinction, founded on the difference of degree, as regards continuance. Discrimination : " His diligence in all his varied pursuits in private life, and his assiduity in the dis- charge of every official duty, were equally charac- teristic of the man." Attempt, Endeavor. Definition: Attempt, intended action; Endeavor, continued aim of action. Distinction, founded on difference of degree, as to continuance. Discrimi- nation : " Desultory attempts will never accomphsh the task assigned to persevering endeavor.*' Play, Sport. Definition : Play, cheering recreation ; Sport, mirthfid recreation. Distinction, founded on dif- ference oi degree, as to hilarity. Discrimination: " The joyous and buoyant spirit of childhood, easily passes from play to sport and frolic." EXERCISE VIIL SUPPLYING ELLIPSES. Exercise. — A useful supplement to the pre- ceding forms of exercises on words, consists in the attempt to supply appropriate terms, purpose- ly omitted from the context of a given passage, so as to require of the student an attentive regard to the adaptation of language to thought, in va- ried circumstances of expression. , Note. — This exercise demands, in many instances, the preparation furnished in the previous exercises on definition and synonyms, and will always involve a useful review of these, and afford, at the same time, a test by which the student's previous progress may be ascertained. Suggestion to Teachers. — In selecting matter for such exercises as are now proposed, the teacher will, of course, be guided by the capacity of his pupils. The character of the exercise in view, is such as to adapt it to all classes of students, from the most ad- vanced to the very youngest engaged in the study of grammar. Judicious selection, on the part of the teacher, will furnish sufficient exercise for the for- mer, in passages requiring close thought and deliber- ate reflection, as well as a considerable degree of skill, in the process of supplying ellipses ; while the 9* (101) 102 EXERCISES ON WORDS. f work prescribed tcf tlie latter, will be of that compar- atively easy de^^fiption, which requires nothing more than intuitive observation, and is merely intended as a discipline to aid in forming a ready ear for expres- sion. — Narrative and descriptive writings, are, by their very character, which runs so often into unex- pected detail, unsuitable for the material of exercises in the form to which we now advert. But essays, and other didactic compositions, which abound in general sentiment, always furnish appropriate scope for the exercise of replacing expressions which the general tendency of thought evinced in the context, will, in part, suggest, when they have been removed, for the time, by the teacher, in prescribing a practical lesson of this description. Suggestion to Students. — The exercise in supply- ing elhpses, is necessarily of such a form as to ren- der it inapplicable, in strictness of practice, to the circumstances of the student who is prosecuting the study of language, as a matter of self-culture. An exercise nearly equivalent, however, may be substi- tuted in such cases, — that of reading a paragraph from a standard author, and then endeavoring to ex- press his sentiment in the same words, as far as memory will serve to reproduce them. On compar- ing his own composition with that of the author, the student will usually find, in addition to more or less variation from the original thought, a difference in the forms of expression, arising from a different se- lection of words. The greater force, clearness, or appropriateness of the language of the author, will afford the intended lesson in choice of expression. Examples. — The following paragraphs are selected from essays by Clarendon, Addison, Johnson, Savile, and Colton. SUPPLYING ELLIPSES. 10* Exercise in supplying the amission qf{l.) Nouns. " He that hath been brought up from his in the of God, and hved suitably to that , learns more from affliction, than he had done, all his before. That presented all liis defects to him, in a true mirror : he discerned his and his in their own , which appeared before to him only in the light of and " We should probably find much better in our pursuits, if, before we are too solicitous, and set out upon any , we would well weigh and consider the true of the which we desire, — whether it be indeed worth all that we shall be put to, and all the we are likely to spend in obtaining it." " Happiness is deceitful as the calm that precedes the , smooth as the on the of the cataract, and beautiful as the rainbow, that smiling daughter of the ; but, like the in the desert, she tantalizes us with a that creates, and that destroys." " To am- bition she sends ; to avarice, ; to love, ; to revenge, : alas ! what are these, but so many other names for and ? " (2.) Adjectives. " To advise the , relieve the , comfort the , are duties that fall in our way, every day of our lives." " If unlearned and ordinary men raise themselves, with very assistance from nature, to a and height of reputation and honor, by their , untaught wisdom, and judgment, what flights would such men make, with 104 EXERCISES ON WORDS. industry, if liberally endowed witli the advantages of nature I " " Are we pleased with the commerce and society of and cities, or with the pleasures of the country ? Do we love palaces and houses, or take delight in groves and woods or gardens which teach nature to pro- duce more fruits and flowers and plants than her own store can supply her with ? — All this we owe to peace." " I know that reflections on death are apt to raise and thoughts in minds and imaginations ; but, for my own part, though I am always , I do not know what it is to be , and can therefore take a view of nature in her and scenes, with the same pleas- ure as in her most and ones." (3.) Verbs. " When ambition one way, interest an- other, inclination a third, and, perhaps, reason con- trary to all, a man is likely to his time but ill, who has so many difierent parties to ." " When I upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy in me ; when I the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate de- sire ; when I with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart with compassion ; when I the tomb of the parents themselves, I the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly ." " It has been in all ages, that the advan- tages of nature or of fortune have veiy little to the promotion of happiness ; and that those whom the splendor of their rank, or the extent of their capacity have upon the summits of human life, have not often any just occa- SUPPLYING ELLIPSES. 105 sion to envy in those who up to them from a lower station." " The ill-natured man himself a large field to in ; he those failings in human nature which the good-natured man would a veil over ; at vices which the other or , utterance to reflections which the other , indifferently over friends or enemies, the person who has him, and, in short, at nothing which may his character as a wit." " We already , in some measure, the charms of novelty, and the delight which from the contemplation of objects new, grand, and beautiful. Let us , then, if we can, the pleas- ing sensations we shall , the high trans- ports we shall , when other and unseen worlds shall be to our view, and all the glo- ries of the celestial paradise on our wonder- ing eyes. — Such a felicity, even in prospect, the mind, and it with emotions which, wliile it , it cannot ." Elliptical Exercise on ^nonyms. It forms a useful variety of exercise to combine, with the practice of supplying ellipses, the exempli- fication of synonyms, by adopting a theme which re- quires a discrimmating application of synonymous terms, in a progressive series, regarding intensity of expression, — as in the following example. " The artist's juvenile attempts reflected [1] on his talents. Had he been ambitious merely of a [2] , he would have courted the society of persons of [3] . His productions might thus have been in [4] for a while, and he might have been grati- fied with a transient [5] . But his aspirations were those of a true lover of art : he chose the path of 106 EXERCISES ON WORDS. quiet diligence and assiduous application. His [6] advanced with his years. In early manhood, he had already attained to an enviable [7] . He was held in universal [8] for his noble personal qualities, not less than for his artistic talent. Previ- ous to his removal to the metropolis, he was in high [9] for the excellence of his portraits, some of which, from the [10] of those whom they represent- ed, served to add to the artist's [11] . His [12] soon extended abroad ; and, ere his death, he had acquired a world-wide [13] . His name is in- vested with the [14] of triumphant genius ; and the lovers of art, in all countries, do [15] to his mem- ory." [1] credit, [2] name, [3] note, [4] vogue, [5] noto- riety, [6] reputation, [7] distinction, [8] honor, [9] re- pute, [10] popidarity, [11] celebrity, [12] fame, [13] renown, [14] glory, [15] homage. EXERCISE IX. VARIATION OF EXPRESSION. Introductory Explanations, — The English lan- guage is derived from so many different sources, that it greatly excels in copiousness. Its wealth of words, however, is often the very cause of that embarrassment which the young composer feels in attempting to give appropriate expression to his thoughts. Our synonymous terms are so numerous, and approach each other so nearly in sense, that no slight degree of attainment in critical judgment and skill, is needed, in many instances, to enable us to decide with certainty on the choice of expression. A discriminating and exact adaptation of language to thought, while it is thus comparatively difficult, is one of the most desirable accomplishments which the discipline of assiduous cultivation can yield. A long-continued training in the discrimination of sy- nonyms, is, in this relation, the student's best gene- ral reliance for adequate attainments. There is one branch, however, of the study of words, which is founded on distinctions so obvious as to give it a peculiarly interesting character in connection with etymology, and, at the same time, to render it more easy of attainment than others. It is one, also, which, while it affords scope for the exercise of the acutest discrimination and most ma- ture judgment, is accessible, to a great extent, to the youngest student of language. It regards the difference existing between the two great primary (107) 108 EXEKCISES ON WORDS. sources of our language, — that which may be term- ed the Franco-Latm, or Latin modified by transmis- sion through the French; and the Anglo-Saxon, or Saxon modified by the dialect of the Angles. These various elements, combined with others of subordi- nate character, prominent among which is the Da- nish language, constitute the chief features in the present form of the English language. Composed of so many different elements, the English is, ne- cessarily, a language very irregular, in its grammati- cal forms, and very difficult in construction, but not less remarkably copious, and peculiarly expressive. It derives breadth and solidity from the character of its Latin source, freedom and vivacity from the French, and primitive force and poetic freshness from its Anglo-Saxon and other Gothic sources. By these last-mentioned traits of its origin, it adds to the massive character of the Latin language some- thing of the spirit and versatility of the Greek ; and while, by blending all these diversified elements, it necessarily loses somewhat of the original excel- lences of each, it perhaps transcends them all in adaptation to the treatment of most subjects in the vast range of human thought. Success in English composition, depends, to a great extent, on a distinct perception of the effect of different subjects on the character of expression, as regards the sources whence it is derived. Abstract and general forms of thought, expressed in English, must be clothed in words in which Latin etymology prevails; as that language, by its constitution and character, furnishes the largest amount and greatest variety of general terms, and is thus best adapted to the expression of abstract ideas. Subjects, on the other hand, of a practical and familiar character, if appropriately treated, are presented in the vernacu- lar Anglo-Saxon forms of our language, which abound in idioms, demanding the use of particular and con- VARIATION OF EXPRESSION. 109 Crete terms, and refer directly to things and actions, and their quahties as connected with them. ]\lixed subjects, which introduce both general and particu- lar, abstract and concrete ideas, are properly dis- cussed in terms which are drawn from both of the original sources of the language, in proportions de- pending on the comparative equality or preponder- ance of either form of thought. "We find, accordingly, that good usage, in English writing, associates words of Latin etymology with the style of composition adopted in the language of philosophic theories, theoretical expositions, doctrinal discussions, rhetorical essays, scientific discourses, and other abstract and generahzed modes of thought; but the homely Saxon vocabulary with ordinary af- fairs, domestic life, daily occuiTcnces, familiar let- ters, and common conversation. The primitive cha- racter of the Saxon renders it, also, the fitting style of narrative and descriptive, though not of didactic poetry. Oratory and poetry, in their grandest forms, range through both of these fields, as Avell as all others within the domain of language. This trait, accordingly, is a striking characteristic in the style of Burke and Chatham, and in that of Milton and Shakspeare. A degree of this high attainment, however, is in- dispensable to every person who wishes to possess the humble merit of using his own language aright, even in conversation and in letter-\vriting. But to the student who would become " a scholar, and a ripe and good one ", in the noble language which, as a professional man, he is to have in daily use, for the best and noblest purposes of communication, a perfect command over all its resources, is a worthy- object of the highest ambition and the most assi- duous application. 10 110 EXERCISES ON WORDS. Exercise. — (1.) One useful form of exercise on the expressive power of words, as dependent on the source whence they are derived, consists in translating a given passage, in which terms of Latin origin prevail, into w^ords purely Saxon. — (2.) Another exercise serves the opposite pur- pose, of translating an idiomatic and vernacular passage from Anglo-Saxon into Latinized phra- seology. — (3.) A third course of exercises, con- sists in composing' sentences with purely vernacu- lar words predominating. — (4.) A fourth, in the opposite process of composing in Latinized dic- tion ; and (5.) a fifth, in composing sentences and paragraphs in which the phraseology inter- mingles both these forms of our language.* Suggestion to Teachers. — A useful exercise for young pupils, in this department of practical gram- mar, may be found by prescribing a didactic para- graph, — from any reading-lesson not too difficult, in its style of expression, for the understanding of a given class, — to be turned into " plainer " language, with more or less aid, as may seem necessary, al- lowed from the use of the dictionary. This exercise not only contributes to skill in language, but greatly facilitates the comprehension of ideas, and is an ex- cellent preparation for an intelligent and appropriate style of reading, as regards the right expression of the sense of what is read. Few exercises have more power than this, to call forth the judgment, and de- velope the understanding. None serves more ef- fectually to keep the mind in the mood of wakeful * The extracts presented for the Analysis of Composition, in subsequent pages of this manual, will furnish convenient mate- rial for exercises in Variation of Expression. VARIATION OF EXPEESSION. Ill attention and lively interest in relation to the sub- ject which, for the time, is presented as the ground- work of thought. Suggestio7is to Students. — All the great writers to whom we are referred as models in the use of words, are characterised by one common trait of critical judgment and skill, — the exact adaptation of ex- pression to thought ; their style ever varying with the character of the subject of their composition. The greatest authors are least marked by the me- chanical vice of mannerism. They preserve their personal identity in style, but vary, with the utmost ease, the complexion of their language with that of their subject. A language so copious as ours, affords little room for any apology for a narrow uniformity of style. No language is so well entitled to insist on the great canon, that expression should ever wear the living, shifting hue of thought. The genius of our tongue offers to him who would express himself worthily, on any subject, the largest choice of utterance, from the heights of poetic inspiration, to the humblest strains of ordinary life. A due attention to the obligation which ever lies on writers of the English language, to embrace the liberal opportunities which it offers them of adapting their uses of words to all varieties of occasion, is a matter of the utmost moment to the formation of style. The taste of our day demands the freest scope for expression. It forbids the stately regularity of even our best classic essayists of the past, as a mo- del. But the license sometimes arising from a mis- interpretation of freedom, leads, too frequently, to the fatal mistake that wild irregularity is inspired originality, or hardened mannerism independent in- dividuality, or that low familiarity is pure Saxon. The careful study of authors, as models of style, is of great value, if rightly directed. To catch the 112 EXERCISES ON WORDS. spirit, not the manner, of a writer, should be the stu- dent's aim ; to take every author as a model in that in which he excels, as a pei-vading effect, — not in his turns of expression and favorite words. Adopt- ing the true, liberal interpretation of the influence of example, the young wiiter may avoid every evil of imitation, while he acquires simplicity from Addi- son, dignity from Johnson, ease from Goldsmith, sub- limity from Burke, plainness from Locke or Frank- lin, eloquence from Macaulay, strength and grandeur from Webster, elegance from Everett, and pliancy and grace from L'ving. Johnson, however, in relation to our present sub- ject, — the choice of expression from the two great sources of our language, — may be fairly mentioned as a writer who carries to extreme the use of Latin phraseology, applying it indiscriminately to all sub- jects, and thus rendering his style heavy and unin- teresting, to a degree which leaves the Kambler, in our day, undisturbed on the shelf, or causes him to be read with a listless attention, which we ascribe to the dulness of the writer. Goldsmith, on the other hand, from his fondness for familiar expres- sion, falls, sometimes, below the dignity of a gene- ral theme ; and, when writing on an elevated or ab- stract subject, disappoints alike the mind and the ear, by dropping suddenly from a noble height and extent of ideal survey, to an illustration compara- tively low and narrow. But Addison, with his fine perception and disciplined taste, exemplifies that perfect command of expression which enables him to mould his language at will ; and, in his beautiful essays, at one moment to expatiate in the widest scope of elevated and excursive thought, and, at an- other, to dwell on the homeliest circumstances of daily life, in equally appropriate but totally different forms of diction. Johnson has not a little of the mag- niloquence of an ambitious public speaker. Gold- VARIATION OF EXPEESSION. 113 smith occasionally falls into a phraseology which sa- vors too much of the company with which he often condescended to associate. Addison writes as a man of general culture, who cames with him, eveiy- where, the trained discernment and refined taste of a scholar, blended with the ease and dignity of a gentleman. Among the writers of our own country, Franklin forms an instructive example of an easy command of both the great elements of English expression, in the perfect propriety and excellent adaptation of language with which he writes on general subjects connected with morals and politics, and the peculiar facility with which he comes down to the humblest affairs of daily experience in domestic and indivi- dual life ; — passing from the one to the other of these styles, w^ithout an efibrt, and never, for a mo- ment, betraying a lapse of critical judgment, or a fault in taste. His style has not the charm of polish- ed elegance which attracts us to Addison ; but its perfect simplicity and entire freedom have an in- fluence scarcely inferior. A distinguished example, nearer to our own day, in whom we trace the same discriminating sound- ness of judgment, and a yet nobler mastery over all forms of our language, with an apparently uncon- scious purity of taste, and a felicitous power of adapt- ing expression to every elevated form of thought, we find in our great national orator, Webster. As we trace the successive pages of one of his discourses, on whatever occasion, we find no false swell of style, no parade of lofty diction. The words which he employs, are those which we hear daily in intel- ligent conversation, or read in the productions of chaste and classical wiiters, — but always the most fitting to his subject; and, even in the highest flights of his oratory, there is a manly plainness of expres- sion from which he never departs. 10* 114 EXERCISES ON WORDS. Were it proper, here, to enter on a critical dis- cussion of the merits of our Uving writers, some might be named who are destined to hold the highest place, as classic models of cultivated and expressive lan- guage, in pure and noble forms. But, to the young American student of the English language, it may- suffice to say, that, happily for his proficiency in the art of expression, he is surrounded by the most in- structive and inspiring examples, urging him to ac- quit himself worthily in the pursuit of that excel- lence which is the crown of earnest, assiduous en- deavor. EXERCISE X. ANALYSIS OF COMPOSITION. Introductory Explanations. — The systematic study of "words, as part of a course of practical exercises in language, extends properly beyond the sphere of grammar to the first stages of rhetoric. The value of even a single word, depends not merely on its grammatical adaptation to the expression of mean- ing but its fitness, also, to the character of the idea which it represents, as tinged by feeling or colored by imagination. These relations of language are relinquished by the grammarian to the charge of the rhetorician ; and, to complete the study of words, it becomes necessary to investigate their rhetorical character, as elements of expression in the utterance of the various moods of the human mind, resulting from the influences exerted upon it by the laws of association. These subject it to a sympathetic action, responsive to the agency of surrounding ob- jects, of whose predominating characters it always, when true to its office, reflects the local coloring. Like the fabled cameleon of old, or the veritable familiar lizard of our Southern States, it takes the hue of the objects over which it passes; and, when it clothes itself in language, the integument, if ap- propriate, is so transparent, that the original tint of the coloring surface shines through to the eye. The suggestive power of words depends, to a great extent, on the emotions which they excite in conjunction with the thoughts which they awaken ; (115) 116 EXERCISES ON WORDS. and the vividness of these emotions is always pro- portioned to the graphic power of imagination, which gives form and color to the mental picture. Lan- guage thus often uses a tlu-eefold power in enkind- ling sentiment, — thought, imagination, and feeling, — by the presentation of a single word happily cho- sen. To appreciate, therefore, the value of words, the student must be aware of their power in aU the va- rious relations which they fulfil. He must form a true idea of the place which they occupy in the whole field of expression ; and to attain this knowledge, he must become competent to analyse language in the different forms which it assumes in the various styles of composition, arising from diversity of character in the subjects of thought. A course of close critical reading and systematic analysis, accordingly, is an indispensable aid to the exercise of that discernment which practice alone has the power of rendering in- tuitive, as regards the aptness of words to do their great work of prompting the mind, and suggesting trains of consecutive thought. The following extract from Duncan, may serve as an example for the analysis of composition, as an exercise on words, when it is practised with a view to forming a critical decision on the merits of a piece, in regard to the author's choice of expression. " This is truly the glad season of the year. Wher- ever we turn our eyes, Nature wears a smile of joy, as if, freed from the storms and the cold of winter, she revelled in the luxury of spring. The lengthen- ing day, the increasing warmth of the air, and the gradually deepening green of the awakened earth, excite, in every breast, a lively sense of gratitude, ANALYSIS OF COMPOSITION. 117 and pleasingly affect the imagination. A walk among the woods or the fields, in a calm spring day, when the trees are bursting forth into beauty, and all the land is echoing with song, may well soothe the stormiest passions, and insphe that ' vernal de- light', which is ' able to drive away all sadness but despair.' The mind sympathises with the joy of in- animate nature, and rejoices to behold the reviving beauty of the earth, as if itself had escaped from a period of gloom, to bask in the sunshine of hope and enjoyment. " The joys of spring, as felt or sung by poets and other ardent lovers of nature, are familiar to us. They form the burden of many a poetic strain, and excite to many a meditative reverie. They have inspired enthusiasm and deep delight, ever since there was an eye to witness, or a mind to feel, the harmony and loveliness of this gorgeously arrayed and ' breathing world.' They are the source of ex- quisite emotion to every mind in which dwells a sense of beauty and creative design. They also light the brow of care, and bring back the flush of health and hope to the pale and wasted cheek. And not only by the rich and the enlightened, — by the children of luxury and refinement, — are the inde- scribable delights of this season deeply felt and val- ued ; spring is also a time of increased enjoyment to the poor. It fills the inmates of many an humble dwelling with gladness, and makes even desponding poverty smile, and hope for better days. " There is something in the flowery sweetness and genial warmth of spring, that kindles, in the rudest bosom, feelings of gratitude and pleasure. The con- trast to the cold and desolation of winter, is so strik- ing and agreeable, that every heart, unless it be har- dened by the direst ignorance and crime, is melted to love and pious emotion ; and breatliings of deep- felt adoration escape from the most untutored lips. 118 EXERCISES ON WORDS. Tlie carols of the ploughman, as he traverses the field, the live -long day, and turns up the fresh soil, seem to bespeak a hghtsome heart, and evince the joyousness of labor. The shepherd, as he sits upon the hill-side, and surveys his quiet flock, with its sportive companies of lambs, — those sweetest em- blems of innocent mirth, — feels a joy and calm satis- faction, that is heightened by the recollection of the vanished snow-storms of recent winter, and of all the anxieties and toils of his peculiar charge. Even the hard-working mechanic of the village or town, shares the general gladness of the season. As he strolls in sweet relaxation into the glittering fields, or along the blossoming hedgerows and lanes, haply supporting with his hand the tottering footsteps of his child, or carrying the tender infant in his arms, he breathes the freshening air, treads the reviving turf beneath his feet, and inhales the first faint per- fumes, and listens to the first melodies of the year, with an enjoyment that his untaught powers of ex- pression cannot describe." Exercise. — A complete or exhaustive critical analysis of composition, implies a threefold pro- cess, referring to the elements of logic^ rhetoric, and grammar. A practical exercise of this de- scription, exemplified in application to the pre- ceding extract, would be arranged as follows : (1.) Logical Analysis, "The Theme", or Subject.— (I.) This branch of the exercise commences with a statement of the themc^ or groundwork of the whole composi- tion, and contemplates, separately, the nature and character of the subject^ as a matter of thought, — independently, for the moment, of the senti- -*c.ALYSIS OF COMPOSITION. 119 ments to which it gives rise, or the language in which these are expressed. — The theme, or sub- ject, of the piece before us, may be fully stated in the phrase. The pleasures of spring. (II.) " Topics." — The next object of atten- tion, in this process of analysis, are the topics^ or heads, under which the successive thoughts, in the developement of the subject, are arranged., These are, in the instance under our notice, as^ follows : (1.) The general aspect of Nature^ in spring. This topic occupies the first two sen- tences of the piece, and the first half of the third. — (2.) The general effect of the season on the hu- man mind. This topic extends through the re- mainder of the first paragraph. — (8.) The effect on different classes of men, — (a) the poet, (b) the lover of nature, (c) the care-worn and the invalid, (d) the rich, (e) the poor, (f) the uncultivated, (g) the ploughman, (h) the shepherd, (i) the mechanic. These subordinate topics occupy the second and third paragraphs. (III.) The "Method", or principle of order, by which the successive topics are arranged. — In the case before us, we perceive the method to be that of the developement of the general into the particular', and the order of cause and effect ; as we have first presented to us a glance at the general aspect of spring, — next, an enumeration of some particulars ; then, the effects produced by spring, as a cause of feeling in man. (I v.) The "Scope", or design of the whole composition, — which, in the present instance, we find to be, The genial effect of spring on man. 120 EXERCISES ON WORDS. (2.) Rhetorical Analysis. (I.) " Ideas." — Thus far, the matter, or mate- rial, of the composition, has been under consider- ation; and, having traced, logically, the nature and relations of the subject, we are prepared to examine, rhetorically, the character of the ideas or thoughts, to which the subject has given rise by its developement in the mind of the author, and to form a critical judgment of their appro- priateness to his theme, and their adaptation to the purpose of effective expression. We dwell on them now, therefore, not with reference to their purely intellectual character or value, as portions, of a sequence or train of thought, but as adapted, more or less successfully, by their complexion and coloring, to the writer's view of his subject, and accommodated to correspondent effect in language. — The ideas embodied in the passage under review, when thus examined in detail, as to their rhetorical value, we observe to possess a truthfulness, a vivacity, and a beauty, which are happily consonant with the subject, and which naturally lead to corresponding forms of expression. (11.) " Eloquence." — The next point for con- sideration, in rhetorical analysis, is the degree of success which the writer has attained in giving effect to his ideas, by the ivipression which his combinations of thought and language, in conse- quence of the happy adaptation of the one to the other, produce upon our minds. We inquire, now, not into the thoughts merely, nor, as yet, into the style of language, but rather into the moulding of the former by the latter, as more or ANALYSIS OF COMPOSITION. 121 less skilfully accomplished, and constituting what, in the technical nomenclature of rhetoric, is term- ed eloquence^ — a result corresponding to those which, in graphic art, are designated by the terms " effect" and " expression." In written composi- tion, however, an impressive eloquence resolves itself into the life which is infused into language, when it combines, in its suggestive action, the play of imagination and of feeling with the in- fluence of thought, and when sentiment conse- quently comes forth embodied in clear and well- defined forms, clothed with associations of grace, or humor, or passion, at the will of the writer. — Viewed in this relation, w^e should regard the author of the passage under analysis as having attained to the degrees of "eloquence", or ex- pressive effect, which may be designated by the terms graceful and pathetic. These traits, also, as well as those indicated under the head of *^ Ideas ", are in true harmony with the subject of the piece, and naturally flow from it, in the sympathy of the mind with the object of its con- templation. The correspondence of every cha- racteristic point, in the whole treatment of the theme, with the vein of sentiment involved in the subject itself, is, in rhetoric, the demonstra- tion of the writer's success. (III.) " Style." — Our next object of atten- tion, in rhetorical analysis, is the character of ex- pression, as involving a degree of regard to orna- ment. We now contemplate language, as de- tached, for a moment, from the relation which it bears to a union with thought, and endeavor, by critical estimation, to decide its value in the scale of beauty, by its effect on taste and imagination. 11 122 EXERCISES ON WORDS. We regard it as an artistic product, — as a quali- ty not so much inherent in the writer's subject or modes of thought, as infused into his diction, by his own design, and his skill in moulding his forms of expression. Contemplated in this light, the author before us seems well entitled to the praise of successful effort, as regards refinement and elegance; while yet he is nowhere charge- able with any attempt to adorn his language with a merely artificial grace. In these respects, also, he obeys the requisitions of sound critical judg- ment and good taste, which keep his style in har- mony with his subject. An ungraceful or a fini- cal expression, in a description of nature, would equally have been a gross incongruity. (3.) Grammatical Analysis. (I.) " Structure." — Under this head we re- turn to the humbler department of grammatical characteristics, and trace the effect produced on expression by syntactical structure and arrange- ment^ as rendering style simple or artificial, ac- cording to the degree in which the order of the constructive clauses of a sentence is direct or in- verted. In this particular, the writer of the pas- sage which we are analysing, maintains the con- sistency of his character. We find, in the struc- ture of his sentences, no ambitious or studied inversion of clauses, but a direct and natural or- der of language, such as best harmonises with simple descriptive effect; while an easy melo- dious flow of expression is uniformly preserved. Unity and harmony are, accordingly, the prevail- ing characteristics of the sentential structure of ANALYSIS OF COMPOSITION. 123 the composition. Even in this minuter detail of diction, the author still evinces obedience to the great law of criticism, that the character of ex- pression should always be in perfect keeping with that of thought. (II.) "Phraseology." — The turns of expres- sion in the phraseology of a piece, as idiomatic or imidiomatic, as familiar or elevated, are the next object of attention, in the analysis of composition. The first of these traits gives raciness and relish to language ; but, when too exclusively adopted, it becomes harsh. The second trait referred to, as it generalises expression, gives expansion to style ; but, when uniformly prevalent, becomes vague and weak in effect ; it throws a latinized air over expression, which is incompatible with the freshness of genuine beauty. The author under review avoids the errors of both these ex- tremes, and skilfully accommodates his phraseo- logy to the character of his thoughts, as inclining naturally to generalised expression, in the broader views of his subject, and to idiomatic diction, when descending to detail. His most familiar expressions do not lose becoming dignity; nor does his elevation of language lose the charm of natural freedom. In this Irait, also, of his style, we trace its character as in strict keeping with his subject, which would equally have forbidden any low or any high-flown phraseology, in de- scribing a scene of quiet natural beauty. (III.) " Choice of Words."^ — We return, now, to the immediate subject of the course of exer- cises prescribed in this manual, — the critical study of viords, as a practical application of the part of grammar which is comprehended under 124 EXERCISES ON WORDS. the designation of etymology, and of the elemen- tary part of rhetoric which treats of the character of expression, as dependent on the fitness of the words which we employ for the communication of thought. Under this head, the rhetorical re- quisition is, that our words should possess the three cardinal properties of " purity ", " propriety ", and " precision." We are accordingly directed to discard from our style all words which are not purely English, by origin or adoption, all which are not suitable to the proper style of the theme on which we are writing, and all which over- shoot, or fall short of, or glance aside from, the precise meaning at which we aim. This rule of expression forbids the use of that patchwork of style which is produced by intermingling scraps of Latin, or the words and phrases of foreign lan- guages, with those of our own. It prohibits, also, the eccentric practice of reviving obsolete terms, or adopting new and unusual ones. It excludes words merely technical, and all which belong to the dialect of slang, whether in low or high life, together with all which savor, in any respect, of low and vulgar associations ; while it discards, no less peremptorily, all mincing affectation and squeamish purism, all high-flown phraseology, all inflated exaggeration and extravagance, and all forced intensity of expression. Judged by the standard of all these require- ments, the choice of words evinced in the pas- sage which we have selected for the purpose of exemplifying the analysis of composition, bears the closest application of the test, with uniform consistency. A single ill-chosen word, a tech- nical, or a low expression, an extravagant or a ANALYSIS OF COMrOSlTION. 125 fictitious one, intruding on the gentle and serene character of the fitting language of the piece, would have been an unpardonable blemish in the treatment of a subject associated with serene and even sacred emotions. The character of his theme has, in this respect, we see, as in others, been the author's monitor and guide ; and we are thus once more referred to subject and thought, as the true springs of language, and our only re- liable prompters in the choice of words. Explanatory Observations. — The fitness of any word to represent an idea, in consecutive composi- tion, depends wholly on its character as a constitu- ent part of an entire structure; the symmetry of which is to be maintained throughout. Our subject is the ground on which we rest the foundation of thought, and prescribes the character and style of the edifice which we are to erect ; and the details and specifications must, in turn, be accommodated to the order of architecture which we have adopted. To apply this remark to the piece which we have been analysing, we may observe, on review, that the principle of unity in subject, thought, and lan- guage, is successfully preserved in every particular, and constitutes the characteristic excellence of the whole composition. Thus, the theme presents to the mind, as a groundwork, the 2'>Jccisures of spring ; this subject suggests a connected train of serene and cheerful thought; this succession of thought devel- opes into a series of pleasing ideas, in detail ; these ideas are associated with graceful and tender image- ry ; this imagery induces refinement and elegance in the style of language in which it is embodied ; these qualities of style give a pleasing and harmonious flow to the sentential structure of the composition; tliis harmony is developed in accordant phrases ; and these 11* 126 EXERCISES ON WORDS. resolve themselves into ivcU- chosen words. — At every successive step of our analysis, we trace a pervad- ing principle of unity, — the pleasing emotion w^liich is suggested by the subject, and diffuses itself over every feature of the whole production. To feel the full value of the exercise of critical judgment and taste, in the use of words, we do well, occasionally to invert the order of study which has just been exemplified in the analysis of composition, and, following the constructive method, to trace the well-chosen word to its necessary effect on the cha- racter of phraseology, — the phraseology as deter- mining the structure, — the structure as influencing the style, — the style as constituting, in part, the elo- quence of the passage, — the eloquence as coloring the ideas, — the ideas as determining the current of thought, — and the train of thought as modifying, for the time, the subject. The passage which we have used to exemplify analysis, if taken as an illustration of the construct- ive process in rhetoric, would be characterised as follows : The author's appropriate choice of words, gives pliancy to his phi'aseology, fluency and harmony to his sentences, elegance to his style, gracefulness to his imagery, vivacity and beauty to his ideas, and at- tractive interest to his subject. Even this brief enumeration of qualities, however, reminds us that, as it commences w^ith ascribing ap- propriateness to the writer's choice of words, we must still revert to the tone and character of the sid)ject, as the standard by wliich to judge correctly of every point in expression. To verify, therefore, our first statement regarding the passage under consideration, the reasons for our decision must be traced. in logi- cal sequence, or analogous succession, in the follow- ing manner : The subject of composition, in the present instance, is the moral effect of spring ; or, re- ducing the subject to its simplest element, w^e may ANALYSIS OF COMPOSITION. 127 leave but the single word spring, as the theme. By the inevitable law of association, tliis word suggests, to all minds, ideas of animatwn, cheerfulness, beauty, serenity, tenderness. The mental scene is, univer- sally, one o^ genial amenity. To present such scene- ry, therefore, in a word-picture, we feel that we must avoid all terms associated with mere force, — with harshness, abruptness, vehemence, or violence of action, or Avith sternness or moroseness of feeling. Our words, we are aware, must be suggestive oi gen- tleness, khidliness, life, and grace. — Comparing the author's language in the extract before us, with these qualities, we find that he nowhere disturbs the se- renity, or overclouds the cheerfulness, or deadens the pathos of his descriptions, by inappropriate ex- pression, but that every idea and every epithet which he introduces, is in keeping with the scene before him, which his words never bedim or obscure, but rather tend to brighten and enhance; and his lan- guage, throughout, we unhesitatingly pronounce " approjjriate." Suggestions to Students. — To determine, with crit- ical accuracy of judgment, the appropriateness of even a single word in composition, it may thus be necessary to advert to the character of the subject, as requiring one mode of expression, rather than an- other, and therefore indicating the choice of one term, in preference to another, in our style of lan- guage.* Facility and readiness of discrimination, as to the fitness of words for the various forms of thought, become matters of tact and intuition, after the discipline of due practice. But, without such training, the young writer is always in danger of fall- ing into the random expressions and loose phrases * Roget's Thesaurus of English words, before mentioned, will be found an invaluable aid in this department of rhetorical cul- ture, to which it is peculiarly and most successfully adapted. 128 EXERCISES ON WORDS. which so generally characterise the effusions of the immature mind and the unpractised pen. The care- ful analysis of composition, as a frequent exercise, is therefore of the utmost importance, as a preparation for good writing. It serves, also, as an effectual training for other purposes, of equal moment. — The exercise of tracing the treatment of subjects, and the evolution of topics, in the compositions of great wri- ters, may not unjustly be compared to a species of mental gymnastics, by which the student is trained not only to expertness in the intellectual processes connected with critical analysis, as a preparation for correct writing, but to skill in the management and methodising of subjects, for the purposes of state- ment and discussion in oral address, — a department of rhetorical culture which still receives a very in- adequate degree of attention in our seminaries of education. To return to our immediate subject, the cultivation of critical correctness of taste, with reference to the character of expression, as decided by choice of words, — we may leave this branch of practical rhet- oric with the concluding remark, that the many rules which are laid down by the rhetorician, for the guid- ance of the young Avriter in choice of expression, may be summed up in the single direction to culti- vate soundness of critical judgment and purity of taste. Criticism, whether regarded as a science or as an art, does nothing more than embody and pre- scribe the maxims of good sense, suggested by ex- tensive observation, careful examination, and diligent study, — and founded on solid information and assid- uous self-discipline. The laws of pure taste, in lan- guage, as in all other forms of expression, are but equivalents for the suggestions proceeding from a genuine love of nature, the study of true art, and the habitual perusal of the best writers, — to the exclu- sion of aU whose character is merely ordinaiy or in- ferior. SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. [The following extracts are presented for the purpose of avoid- ing the inconvenience and loss of time, to the student, which would be caused by frequent references to the library, for the ma- terial on which to practise the exercises prescribed on synonyms and other topics, in preceding pages of this manual, and, more particularly, that on the analysis of composition. The extracts furnish examples of the varying character of the English lan- guage, from its earlier prose forms to our own time. They are introduced to aid the student in forming a correct conception of the prominent characteristics of eminent writers whose modes of expression are standards of reference, as models of style, and, in particular, of acknowledged classical purity and propriety in their choice and use of words. The close, analytic study of such au- thors, is the best of all resorts for the acquisition of true taste and critical discernment, — the indispensable conditions of a skilful and etfective use of language.] EXTRACT I. Truth. Lord Bacon. What is truth? said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an answer. Certainly there be that delight in giddiness, and count it a bondage to fix a belief; afiecting freewill in thinking, as well as in acting : and, though the sects of philosophers of that kind be gone, yet there remain certain discoursing wits which are of the same veins, though there be not so much blood in them as was in those of the ancients. But it is not only the difficulty and labor which men take 029) 130 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. in finding out of truth ; nor again, that, when it is found, it imposeth upon men's thoughts, that doth bring Hes in favor ; but a natural though corrupt love of the lie itself One of the later schools of the Gre- cians examineth the matter, and is at a stand to think what should be in it, that men should love lies, where neither they make for pleasure, as with poets ; nor for advantage, as with the merchant ; but for the lie's sake. But I cannot tell : this same truth is a naked and open daylight, that doth not shew the masques, and mummeries, and triumphs of the world, half so stately and daintily as candlelights. Truth may, perhaps, come to the price of a pearl, that sheweth best by day ; but it will not rise to the price of a diamond or carbuncle, that sheweth best in va- ried lights. A mixture of a lie doth ever add pleas- ure. Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken out of men's minds, vain opinions, flattering hopes, false valuations, imaginations as one would, and the like, it would leave the minds of a number of men poor shrunken things, full of melancholy indisposi- tion, and unpleasing to themselves ? One of the fathers, in great severity, called poesy, the wine of demons, because it filleth the imagina- tion ; and yet it is but the shadow of a lie. But it is not the lie that passeth through the mind, but the lie that sinketh in and settleth in it, that doth the hurt, such as we spake of before. But howsoever these things are thus in men's depraved judgments and afl^ections, yet truth, which only doth judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of truth, which is the love- making, or wooing, of it; the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it ; and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it ; is the sovereign good of human nature. The first creature of God, in the works of the days, was the light of the sense ; the last was the light of reason ; and his sabbath work, ever since, is the illu- EXTRACT I. 131 mination of his Spirit. First he breathed lij^ht upon the face of the matter, or chaos ; then he breathed light into the face of man ; and still he breatheth and inspireth light into the face of his chosen. The poet that beautified the sect that was other- wise inferior to the rest, saith yet excellently well, " It is a pleasure to stand upon the shore, and to see ships tossed upon the sea ; a pleasure to stand in the window of a castle, and to see a battle, and the ad- ventures thereof below ; but no pleasure is compara- ble to the standing upon the vantage ground of truth, (a hill not to be commanded, and where the air is always clear and serene,) and to see the errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, in the vale below : " so always, that this prospect be with pity, and not with swelling or pride. Certainly it is heaven upon earth to have a man's mind move in charity, rest in Providence, and turn upon the poles of truth. To pass from theological and philosophical truth to the truth of civil business, it will be acknowledged, even by those that practise it not, that clear and sound dealing is the honor of man's nature, and that mixture of falsehood is like alloy in coin of gold and silver, which may make the metal work the better, but it embaseth it : for these winding and crooked courses are the goings of the serpent ; which goeth basely upon the belly, and not upon the feet. There is no vice that doth so cover a man with shame as to be found false and perfidious : and therefore Mon- taigne saith prettily, ^vhen he inquired the reason why the word of the lie should be such a disgrace, and such an odious charge, " If it be weU weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as much as to say that he is brave towards God, and a coward towards men : for a lie faces God, and shrinks from man." Surely the wickedness of falsehood and breach of faith can- not possibly be so highly expressed as in that it shall 132 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. be the last peal to call the judgments of God upon the generations of men ; it being foretold that when " Christ Cometh," he shall not " find faith upon earth." EXTRACT II. Learnins:. Lord Bacon. '^fa' Learning taketh away the wildness and barbarism and fierceness of men's minds : it taketh away all levity, temerity, and insolency, by copious sugges- tion of all doubts and difficulties, and acquainting the mind to balance reasons on both sides, and to turn back the first offers and conceits of the mind, and to accept of nothing but examined and tried. It taketh away vain admiration of anything, which is the root of all weakness : for all things are admired, either because they are new, or because they are great. For novelty, no man that wadeth in learning or contemplation thoroughly, but will find that printed in heart, " There is nothing new upon the earth." Neither can any man marvel at the play of puppets, that goeth behind the curtain, and adviseth well of the motion. And for magnitude, as Alexander the Great, after that he was used to great armies, and the great conquests of the spacious provinces in Asia, when he received letters out of Greece, of some fights and services there, which were commonly for a passage, or a fort, or some walled town, at the most, he said, " It seemed to him, that he was ad- vertised of the battle of the frogs and the mice, that the old tales went of." So certainly, if a man me- ditate upon the universal frame of nature, the earth with men upon it, the divineness of souls excepted, will not seem much other than an anthill ; whereas EXTRACT II. 133 some ants carry corn, and some carry their young, and some go empty, and all to-and-fro a little heap of dust. It taketh away or mitigateth fear of death, or adverse fortune ; wliich is one of the greatest im- pediments of virtue, and imperfections of manners. For if a man's mind be deeply seasoned with the consideration of the mortality and corruptible nature of things, he will easily concur with Epictetus, who went forth, one day, and saw a woman weeping for her pitcher of earth that was broken ; and went forth the next day, and saw a woman weeping for her son that was dead ; and thereupon said, " Yesterday, I saw the brittle broken : — to-day, I saw the mortal dead." And therefore Virgil did excellently and profoundly couple the knowledge of cause and the conquest of all fears together, as " concomitants." " Happy the man, whose vigorous soul can pierce Through the formation of this universe ! Who nobly dares despise, with soul sedate, The din of Acheron, and vulgar fears, and fate." It were too long to go over the particular remedies which learning doth minister to all the diseases of tlie mind ; sometimes purging the ill-humors, some- times opening the obstructions, sometimes helping digestion, sometimes healing the wounds and exul- cerations thereof, and the like ; and therefore I will conclude with that which hath " the greater reason of all," which is, that it disposeth the constitution of the mind not to be fixed or settled in the defects thereof, but still to be capable and susceptible of growth and reformation. For the unlearned man knows not what it is to descend into himself, or to call himself to account; nor the pleasure of "that most pleasant life, to feel himself daily growing bet- ter." The good parts he hath he will learn to show to the full, and use them dexterously, but not much to increase them; the faults he hath he will learn 12 134 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. how to hide and color them, but not much to amend them; hke an ill mower, that mows on still, and never whets his scythe. Whereas, with the learned man it fares otherwise, that he doth ever intermix the correction and amendment of his mind with the use and employment thereof. Nay^/arther, — in general and in sum, — certain it is that truth and goodness differ but as the seal and the print : for truth prints goodness ; and they be the clouds of er- ror which descend in the storms of passion and per- turbations. EXTRACT III. Conditions of Study. Locke. The knowledge we acquire in this world, I am apt to think, extends not beyond the limits of this life. The beatific vision of the other life needs not the help of this dim twihght ; but be that as it will, I am sure the principal end why we are to get know- ledge here, is to make use of it for the benefit of ourselves and others in this world ; but if, by gain- ing it we destroy our health, we labor for a thing that will be useless in our hands ; and if by harass- ing our bodies, (though with a design to render our- selves more useful,) we deprive ourselves of the abihties and opportunities of doing that good we might have done with a meaner talent, which God thought sufficient for us, by having denied us the strength to improve it to that pitch which men of stronger constitutions can attain to, we rob God of so much service, and our neighbor of all that help which, in a state of health, with moderate know- ledge, we might have been able to perform. He that sinks his vessel by overloading it, though it be EXTRACT in. 135 with gold and silver, and precious stones, will give his owner but an ill account of his voyage. It being past doubt, then, that allowance is to be made for the temper and strength of our bodies, and that our health is to regulate the measure of our stu- dies, the great secret is to find out the proportion ; the difficulty whereof lies in this, that it must not only be varied according to the constitution and strength of every individual man, but it must also change with the temper, vigor, and circumstances and health of every particular man, in the different varieties of health, or indisposition of body, which every thing our bodies have any commerce with is able to alter : so that it is as hard to say how many hours a day a man shall study constantly, as to say how much meat he shall eat, every day, wherein his own prudence, governed by the present circumstan- ces, can only judge. The regular proceeding of our watch not being the fit measure of time, but the secret motions of a much more curious engine, our bodies, being to limit out the proportion of time in this occasion ; however, it may be so contrived that all the time may not be lost, for the conversation of an ingenious friend upon what one hath read in the morning, or any other profitable subject, may pQr- haps let into the mind as much improvement of knowledge, though with less prejudice to the health, as settled solemn poring over books, w^hich we gene- rally call study; which, though no necessary part, yet I am sure is not the only, and perhaps not the best, way of improving the understanding. As the body, so the mind, also, gives laws to our studies ; I mean to the duration and continuance of them ; let it be never so capacious, never so active, it is not capable of constant labor nor total rest. The labor of the mind is study, or intention of thought, and when wo find it is weary, either in iM SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. pursuing other men's thoughts, as in reading, or tum- bling or tossing its own, as in meditation, it is time to give off, and let it recover itself. Sometimes me- ditation gives a refreshment to the weariness of read- ing, and vice versa, sometimes the change of ground, i. e., going from one subject or science to another rouses the mind, and fills it with fresh vigor ; often- times discourse enlivens it when it flags, and puts an end to the weariness without stopping it one jot, but rather forwarding it in its journey; and some- times it is so tired, that nothing but a perfect relaxa- tion -will serve the turn. All these are to be made use of, according as every one finds most successful in himself, to the best husbandry of his time and thought. EXTRACT IV. Love of Truth. Locke. It is a duty we owe to God, as the fountain and author of all truth, who is truth itself; and it is a duty also we owe to our own selves, if we will deal candidly and sincerely with our own souls, to have our minds constantly disposed to entertain and re- ceive truth wheresoever we meet w^ith it, or under whatsoever appearance of plain or ordinary, strange, new, or, perhaps, displeasing, it may come in our way. Truth is the proper object, the proper riches and furniture of the mind ; and according as his stock of this is, so is the diiTcrence and value of one man above another. He that fills his head with vain no- tions and false opinions, may have his mind perhaps puffed up, and seemingly much enlarged, but, in truth, it is narrow and empty ; for all that it compre- hends, all that it contains, amounts to nothing, or EXTRACT IV. 137 less than nothing ; for falsehood is below ignorance, and a lie worse than nothing. Our first and great duty, then, is to bring to our studies and to our inquiries after knowledge, a mind covetous of truth ; that seeks after nothing else, and after that impartially, and embraces it, how poor, how contemptible, how unfashionable soever it may seem. This is that which all studious men profess to do, and yet it is that where I think very many miscarry. Who is there, almost, that has not opin- ions planted in him by education, time out of mind ; wliich by that means come to be as the municipal laws of the country, which must not be questioned, but are then looked on with reverence, as the stand- ards of right and wrong, truth and falsehood ; when, perhaps, these so sacred opinions were but the ora- cles of the nursery, or the traditional grave talk of those who pretend to inform our childhood ; who re- ceived them from hand to hand, without ever exam- ining them. This is the fate of our tender age, which being thus seasoned early, it grows by con- tinuation of time, as it were into the very constitu- tion of the mind, which afterwards very difficultly receives a different tincture. When we are grown up, we find the world divided into bands and com- panies ; not only as congregated under several poli- ties and governments, but united only upon account of opinions, and in that respect, combined strictly one with another, and distinguished from others, es- pecially in matters of religion. If birth or chance have not thrown a man young into any of these, which yet seldom fails to happen, choice, when he is grown up, certainly puts him into some or other of them ; often out of an opinion that that party is in the right, and, sometimes, because he finds it is not safe to stand alone, and therefore thinks it conven- ient to herd somewhere. Now, in every one of these parties of men there are a certain number of opin- 12* 138 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. ions which are received and owned as the doctrines and tenets of that society, with the profession and practice whereof all who are of their communion ought to give up themselves, or else they will be scarce looked on as of that society, or at best, be thought but lukewarm brothers, or in danger to apos- tatise. It is plain, in the great difference and contrariety of opinions that are amongst these several parties, that there is much falsehood and abundance of mis- takes in most of them. Cunning in some, and ignor- ance in others, first made them keep them up ; and yet how seldom is it that implicit faith, fear of losing credit with the party or interest, (for all these oper- ate in their turns,) suffers any one to question the tenet of his party ; but altogether in a bundle he re- ceives, embraces, and without examining, he pro- fesses, and sticks to them, and measures all other opinions by them. Worldly interest also insinuates into several men's minds divers opinions, which suit- ing with their temporal advantage, are kindly re- ceived, and, in time, so rivetted there, that it is not easy to remove them. By these, and, perhaps other means, opinions come to be settled and fixed in men's minds, which, whether true or false, there they remain in reputation, as substantial, material truths, and so are seldom questioned or examined by those who entertain them ; and if they happen to be false, as, in most men, the greatest part must neces- sarily be, they put a man quite out of the way in the whole course of his studies ; and, though in his read- ing and inquiries, he flatters himself that his design is to inform his understanding in the real knowledge of truth, yet in effect it tends and reaches to nothing but the confirming of his already received opinions, the things he meets with in other men's writings and discoveries being received or neglected as they hold proportion with those anticipations which be- fore had taken possession of his mind. EXTRACT V. 139 EXTRACT V. Aids to the Acquisition of Knowledge. Locke. One thing, which is of great use for the clear con- ception of truth, is, if we can bring ourselves to it, to think upon things, abstracted and separate from words. Words, without doubt, are the great and al- most only way of conveyance of one man's thoughts to another man's understanding ; but when a man thinks, reasons, and discourses within himself, I see not what need he has of them. I am sure it is bet- ter to lay them aside, and have an immediate con- verse with the ideas of the things ; for words are, in their own nature, so doubtful and obscure, their sig- nification, for the most part, so uncertain and unde- termined, which men even designedly have in their use of them increased, that if, in our meditations, our thoughts busy themselves about words, and stick at the names of things, it is odds but they are misled or confounded. This, perhaps, at first sight may seem but a useless nicety ; and in the practice, per- haps, it will be found more difficult than one would imagine ; but yet, upon trial, I dare say any one's experience will tell him it was worth while to en- deavor it. He that would call to mind his absent friend, or preserve his memory, does it best and most effectually by reviving in his mind the idea of him, and contemplating that ; and it is but a very faint imperfect way of thinking of one's friend barely to remember his name, and think upon the sound he is usually called by. It is of gi'eat use in the pursuit of knowledge not to be too confident, nor too distrustful of our own judgment, nor to believe we can comprehend all things, nor nothing. He that distrusts his own judg- ment, in every thing, and thinks his understanding 140 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. not to be relied on in the search of truth, cuts off his own legs, that he may be carried up and down by- others, and makes himself a ridiculous dependent upon the knowledge of others, which can possibly be of no use to him ; for I can no more know any thing by another man's understanding, than I can see by another man's eyes. So much I know, so much truth I have got ; so far I am in the right, as I do really know myself; whatever other men have, it is in their possession ; it belongs not to me, nor can be communicated to me, but by making me alike know- ing: it is a treasure that cannot be lent or made over. On the other side, he that thinks his under- standing capable of all things, mounts upon wings of his own fancy, though, indeed, nature never meant him any, and so venturing into the vast ex- panse of incomprehensible varieties, only makes good the fable of Icarus, and loses himself in the abyss. We are here in the state of mediocrity; finite creatures, furnished with powers and faculties very well fitted to some purposes, but very dispro- portionate to the vast and unlimited extent of things. It would, therefore, be of great service to us to know how far our faculties can reach, that so we might not go about to fathom where our line is too short; to know what things are the proper objects of our inquiries and understanding, and where it is we ought to stop, and launch out no farther, for fear of losing ourselves or our labor. This, perhaps, is an inquiry of as much difficulty as any we shall find in our way of knowledge, and fit to be resolved by a man when he is come to the end of his study, and not to be proposed to one at his setting out ; it being properly the result to be expected after a long and diligent research to determine what is knowable and 'what not, and not a question to be resolved by the guesses of one who has scarce yet acquainted him- self with obvious truths. I shall therefore, at pre- EXTRACT V. 141 sent, suspend the thoughts I have had upon this subject, which ought maturely to be considered of, ahvays remembering that things infinite are too large for our capacity; we can have no comprehensive knowledge of them, and our thoughts are at a loss and confounded, when they pry too curiously into them. The essences also of substantial beings, are beyond our ken ; the manner also how nature, in this great machine of the world, produces the several phenomena, and continues the species of things in a successive generation, is what, I think, lies also out of the reach of our understanding. That which seems to me to be suited to the end of man, and lie level to his understanding, is the improvement of natural experiments for the conveniences of this life, and the way of ordering himself so as to attain hap- piness in the other, — i. e. moral philosophy, wliich, in my sense, comprehends rehgion too, or a man's whole duty. It is too obvious a thing to mention the reading only the best authors on those subjects we would inform ourselves in. The reading of bad books is not only the loss of time, and standing still, but going backwards, quite out of one's way ; and he that has his head filled with wi'ong notions, is much more at a distance from truth, than he that is perfectly igno- rant. I will only say this one thing concerning books, that however it has got the name, yet converse with books is not, in my opinion, the principal part of study ; there are two others that ought to be joined with it, each whereof contributes its share to our im- provement in knowledge ; and those are meditation and discourse. Reading, methinks, is but collecting the rough materials, amongst which a great deal must be laid aside as useless. Meditation is, as it were, choosing and fitting the materials, framing the timbers, squaring and laying the stones, and raising 142 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. tlie building; and discourse with a friend, (for wran- gling in a dispute is of little use,) is, as it were, sur- veying the structure, walking in the rooms, and ob- serving the symmetry and agreement of the parts, taking notice of the solidity or defects of the works, and the best way to find out and correct what is amiss ; besides that it helps often to discover truths, and fix them in our minds, as much as either of the other two. EXTRACT VI. Employment of Time. Addison. We all of us complain of the shortness of time, saith Seneca, and yet have much more than we know what to do with. " Our lives," says he, " are spent either in doing nothing at all, or in doing no- thing to the purpose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do. We are always complaining our days are few, and acting as though there would be no end of them." That noble philosopher has described our inconsistency with ourselves in this particular, by all those various turns of expression and thought which are peculiar to his writings. I often consider mankind as wholly inconsistent with itself in a point that bears some affinity to the former. Though we seem grieved at the shortness of life in general, we are wishing every period of it at an end. The minor longs to be at age, then to be a man of business, then to make up an estate, then to arrive at honors, then to retire. Thus, although the whole of life is allowed by every one to be short, the several divisions of it appear long and tedious. We are for lengthening our span in general, but would fain contract the parts of wliich it is com- EXTRACT VI. 143 posed. The usurer would be very well satisfied to have all the time annihilated that lies between the present moment and next quarter-day. The politi- cian would be contented to lose three years in his life, could he place things in the posture which he fancies they will stand in after such a revolution of time. The lover would be glad to strike out of his existence all the moments that are to pass away before the happy meeting. Thus, as fast as our, time runs, we should be very glad, in the most part, of our lives, that it ran much faster than it does. Several hours of the day hang upon our hands ; nay, we wish away whole years, and travel through time as through a country filled with many wild and empty wastes, which we would fain hurry over, that we may arrive at those several little settlements or imaginary points of rest, which are dispersed up and dow^n in it. If we divide the life of most men into twenty parts, we shall find that at least nineteen of them are mere gaps and chasms, which are neither filled with pleasure nor business. I do not however in- clude in this calculation the life of those men w^ho ■are in a perpetual hurry of affairs, but of those only who are not alvi^ays engaged in scenes of action ; and I hope I shall not do an unacceptable piece of service to these persons, if I point out to them cer- tain methods for the filling up their empty spaces of life. The methods I shall propose to them are as follows : The first is the exercise of virtue, in the most general acceptation of the word. That particular scheme which comprehends the social virtues may give employment to the most industrious temper, and find a man in business more than the most ac- tive station of life. To advise the ignorant, relieve the needy, comfort the afflicted, are duties which fall in our way almost every day of our lives. A man 144 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. has frequent opportunities of mitigating the fierce- ness of a party ; of doing justice to the character of a deserving man ; of softening the envious, quieting the angry, and rectifying the prejudiced ; which are all of them employments gruited to a reasonable na- ture, and bring great satisfaction to the person who can busy himself in them with discretion. There is another kind of virtue that may find em- ployment for those retired hours in which we are al- together left to ourselves, and destitute of company and conversation ; I mean, that intercourse and com- munication which every reasonable creature ought to maintain with the great Author of his being. The man who lives under an habitual sense of the divine presence, keeps up a cheerfulness of temper, and enjoys every moment the satisfaction of thinking himself in company with his dearest and best of friends. The time never lies heavy upon him : it is impossible for him to be alone. His thoughts and passions are the most busied at such hours when those of other men are the most inactive. He no sooner steps out of the world but his heart bums with devotion, swells with hope, and triumphs in the consciousness of that Presence which every- where surrounds him ; or, on the contrary, pours out its fears, its sorrows, its apprehensions, to the great Supporter of its existence. I have here only considered the necessity of a man's being virtuous, that he may have something to do ; but if we consider farther, that the exercise of virtue is not only an amusement, for the time it lasts, but that its influence extends to those parts of our existence which he beyond the grave, and that our whole eternity is to take its color from those hours which we here employ in virtue or in vice, the argument redoubles upon us for putting in practice this method of passing away our time. When a man has but a little stock to improve, EXTRACT VI. 145 and has opportunities of turning it all to good account, what shall we think of him if he suffers nineteen parts of it to lie dead, and perhaps employs even the twentieth to his ruin or disadvantage ? But because the mind cannot be always in its fervors, nor strain- ed up to a pitch of virtue, it is necessary to find out proper employments for it in its relaxations. The next method, therefore, that I would propose to fill up our tuTie, should be useful and innocent diversions. I must confess I think it is below rea- sonable creatures to be altogether conversant in such diversions as are merely innocent, and have nothing else to recommend them but that there is no hurt in them. Whether any kind of gaming has even thus much to say for itself, I shall not determine ; but I think it is very wonderful to see persons of the best sense passing away a dozen hours together in shuf- fling and dividing a pack of cards, with no other conversation but what is made up of a few game phrases, and no other ideas but those of black or red spots ranged together in different figures. Would not a man laugh to hear any one of this species com- plaining that life is short ? The stage might be made a perpetual source of the most noble and useful entertainments, were it under proper regulations. But the mmd never unbends itself so agreeably as in the conversation of a well chosen friend. There is, indeed, no blessing of life that is any way compa- rable to the enjoyment of a discreet and virtuous friend. It eases and unloads the mind, clears and improves the understanding, engenders thoughts and knowledge, animates virtue and good resolutions, soothes and allays the passions, and finds employ- ment for most of the vacant hours of life. Next to such an intimacy with a particular person, one would endeavor after a more general conversa- tion with such as are able to entertain and improve 13 146 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. those with whom they converse, which are quahfi- cations that seldom go asunder. There are many other useful amusements of life which one would endeavor to multiply, that one might, on all occasions, have recourse to something, rather than suffer the mind to lie idle, or run adrift with any passion that chances to rise in it. A man that has a taste of music, painting, or arch- itecture, is like one that has another sense, when compared with such as have no relish of those arts. The florist, the planter, the gardener, the husband- man, when they arc only as accompHshments to the man of fortune, are great reliefs to a country life, and many ways useful to those who are possessed of them. But, of all the diversions of life, there is none so proper to fill up its empty spaces as the reading of useful and entertaining authors. But this I shall only touch upon, because it, in some measure, inter- feres with the third method, which I shall propose for the employment of our dead unactive hours, and which I shall only mention, in general, to be the pursuit of knowledge. EXTRACT VIL The Lnmortality oftli^ Soul Addison. The course of my late speculations led me insen- sibly into a subject upon which I always meditate with great delight; I mean, the immortality of the soul, I was yesterday walking alone, in one of my friend's woods, and lost myself in it, very agreeably, as I was running over, in my mind, the several ar- guments that establish this great point, wliich is the basis of morality, and the source of all the pleasing EXTRACT VII. 147 hopes and secret joys that can arise in the heart of a reasonable creature. I considered those several proofs drawn, First, from the nature of the soul itself, and parti- cularly, its immateriaUty, which though not absolute- ly necessary to the eternity of its duration, has, I think, been evinced to almost a demonstration. Secondly, from its passions and sentiments, as particularly, from its love of existence, its horror of annihilation, and its hopes of immortality, with that secret satisfaction which it finds in the practice of virtue, and that uneasiness which follows in it upon the commission of vice. Thirdly, from the nature of the Supreme Being, whose justice, goodness, wisdom, and veracity, are all concerned in this great point. But, among these and other excellent arguments for the immortahty of the soul, there is one drawn from the perpetual progress of the soul to its perfec- tion, without a possibility of ever amving at it ; which is a hint that I do not remember to have seen open- ed and improved by others who have ^vritten on this subject, though it seems to me to carry a great weight witii it. — How can it enter into the thoughts of man, that the soul, which is capable of such immense perfections, and of receiving new improvements to all eternity, shall fall away into nothing, almost as soon as it is created ? Are such abilities made for no purpose ? A brute arrives at a point of perfec- tion that he can never pass : in a few years he has all the endowments he is capable of; and, were he to live ten thousand more, would be the same thing he is at present. Were a human soul thus at a stand in her accomplishments, were her faculties to be full blown, and incapable of farther enlargements, I could imagine it might fall away insensibly, and drop at once into a state of annihilation. But can we believe that a thinking being, which is in a per- 148 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. petual progress of improvements, and travelling on from perfection to perfection, after having just look- ed abroad into the works of its Creator, and made a fe^v discoveries of his infinite goodness, wisdom, and power, must perish at her first setting out, and in the very beginning of her inquiries ? A man, considered in his present state, does not seem born to enjoy life, but to deliver it down to others. This is not surprising to consider, in ani- mals ; which are formed for our use, and can finish their business in a short life. The silkworm, after having spun her task, lays her eggs, and dies. But a man can never have taken in his full measure of knowledge, has not time to subdue his passions, es- tablish his soul in virtue, and come up to the perfec- tion of his nature, before he is hurried off the stage. Would an infinitely wise Being make such glorious creatures for so mean a purpose? Can he delight in the production of such abortive intelligences, such short-lived reasonable beings ? Would he give us talents that are not to be exerted ? — capacities that are never to be gratified? How can we find that wisdom which shines through all His works, in the formation of man, without looking on this world as only a nursery for the next, and believing that the several generations of rational creatures, which rise up and disappear, in such quick successions, are only to receive their rudiments of existence here, and afterwards to be transplanted into a more friend- ly climate, where they may spread and flourish to all eternity? There is not, in my opinion, a more pleasing and triumphant consideration, than this, of the perpetual progress which the soul makes towards the perfec- tion of its nature, without ever arriving at a period in it. To look upon the soul as going on from strength to strength, to consider that she is to shine for ever, with new accessions of glory, and brighten EXTRACT VII. 149 to all eternity ; that she will be still adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowledge; carries in it something wonderfully agreeable to that ambition which is natural to the mind of man. Nay, it must be a prospect pleasing to God himself, to see his creation forever beautifying in his eyes, and draw- ing nearer to him, by greater degrees of resemblance. Methinks tliis simple consideration, of the pro- gress of a finite spirit to perfection, will be sufficient to extinguish all envy in inferior natures, and all contempt in superior. That cherubim, which now appears as a god to a human soul, knows very well that the period will come about in eternity, when the human soul shall be as perfect as he himself now is : nay, when she shall look down upon that degree of perfection, as much as she now falls short of it. It is true the higher nature still advances, and by that means preserves his distance and supe- riority in the scale of being ; but he knows, how high soever the station is of which he stands possessed at present, the inferior nature will at length mount up to it, and shine forth in the same degree of glory. With what astonishment and veneration may we look into our own souls, where there are such hid- den stores of virtue and knowledge, such unexhaust- ed sources of perfection ! We know not yet what we shall be ; nor will it ever enter into the heart of man to conceive the glory that will be always in re- serve for him. The soul, considered with its Creator, is like one of those mathematical lines that may draw nearer to another for all eternity, without a possi- bility of touching it ; * and can there be a thought so transporting, as to consider ourselves in these perpe- tual approaches to Him, who is not only the stand- ard of perfection but of happiness ! * Those lines are what geometricians call the asymptotes of the hyperbola ; and the allusion to them here is perhaps one of the most beautiful that has ever been made. 13* 150 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. EXTRACT VIII. Wisdom of Providence. Addison. To me, instinct in animals seems the immediate direction of Providence, and such an operation of the Supreme Being, as that which determines all the portions of matter to their proper centres, A modern philosopher, quoted by Monsieur Bayle in his learned dissertation on the souls of brutes, de- livers the same opinion, though in a bolder form of words, where he says, " God himself is the soul of brutes." Who can tell what to call that seeming sagacity in animals, which directs them to such food as is proper for them, and makes them naturally avoid whatever is noxious or unwholesome ? Dampier, in his Travels, tells us, that when seamen are thrown upon any of the unknown coasts of 'America, they never venture upon the fruit of any tree, how tempt- ing soever it may appear, unless they observe that it is marked with the pecking of birds ; but fall on without any fear or apprehension where the birds have been before them. But, notwithstanding animals have nothing hke the use of reason, we find in them all the lower parts of our nature, the passions and senses, in their greatest strength and perfection. And here it is worth our observation, that all beasts and birds of prey are wonderfully subject to anger, malice, re- venge, and all other violent passions that may ani- mate them in search of their proper food ; as those that are incapable of defending themselves, or an- noying others, or whose safety lies chiefly in their flight, are suspicious, fearful, and apprehensive of every thing they see or hear ; whilst others, that are of assistance and use to man, have their natures softened with something mild and tractable, and, by EXTRACT VIII. 151 that means, are qualified for a domestic life. In tliis case, the passions generally correspond with the make of the body. We do not find the fury of a lion in so weak and defenceless an animal as a lamb, nor the meelaicss of a lamb in a creature so armed for battle and assault as the lion. In the same manner, we find that particular animals have a more or less exquisite sharpness and sagacity in those particular senses Avhicli most turn to their advantage, and in which their safety and ^velfare are the most concerned. Nor must we here omit that great variety of arms with which Nature has difierently fortified the bodies of several kinds of animals; such as claws, hoofs, horns, teeth, and tusks, a tail, a sting, a trunk, or a proboscis. It is likewise observed by naturalists, that it must be some hidden principle, distinct from what we call reason, which instructs animals in the use of these their arms, and teaches them to manage them to the best advantage ; because they naturally defend themselves with that part in which their strength lies, before the weapon be formed in it ; as is remarkable in Jambs, which, though they are bred within doors, and never saw the actions of their own species, push at those who approach them with their foreheads, before the fii'st budding of a horn appears. I shall add to these general observations an in- stance, w^hich Mr. Locke has given us of Provi- dence, even in the imperfections of a creature which seems the meanest and most desj)icable in the whole animal world. " We may," says he, " from the make of an oyster or cockle, conclude, that it has not so many nor so quick senses as a man, or several other animals : nor, if it had, would it, in that state and in- capacity of transferring itself from one place to an- other, be bettered by them. Wliat good would sight and hearing do to a creature, that cannot move it- self to or from the object, wherein, at a distance, it 152 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. perceives good or evil? And would not quickness of sensation be an inconvenience to an animal that must be still where chance has once placed it, and there receive the afflux of colder or warmer, clean or foul water, as it happens to come to it " ? I shall add to this instance out of Mr. Locke an- other out of the learned Dr. More, who cites it from Cardan, in relation to another animal which Provi- dence has left defective, but, at the same time, has shown its wisdom in the formation of that organ in which it seems chiefly to have failed. " What is more obvious and ordinary than a mole? and yet what more palpable argument of Providence than she ? the members of her body are so exactly fitted to her nature and manner of life : for her dwelling under ground where nothing is to be seen. Nature has so obscurely fitted her with eyes, that naturalists can scarce agree whether she have any sight at all, or no. But for amends, what she is capable of, for her defence and warning of danger, she has very eminently conferred upon her ; for she is exceeding quick of hearing. And then her short tail and short legs, but broad forefeet armed with sharp claws ; we see by the event to what purpose they are ; she so swiftly working herself under ground, and making her way so fast in the earth as they that behold it cannot but admire it. Her legs therefore are short, that she need dig no more than will serve the mere thickness of her body : and her forefeet are broad, that she may scoop away much earth at a time ; and little or no tail she has, because she courses it not on the ground, like the rat or mouse, of whose kindred she is ; but lives under the earth, and is fain to dig herself a dwelling there. And she making her way through so thick an element, which will not yield easily, as the air or the water, it had been danger- ous to have drawn so long a train behind her; for her enemy might fall upon her rear, and fetch her EXTRACT VIII. 153 out, before she had completed or got full possession of her works," I cannot forbear mentioning Mr. Boyle's remark upon this last creature, who, I remember, some- where in his works observes, that though the mole be not totally blind, (as it is commonly thought,) she has not sight enough to distinguish particular ob- jects. Her eye is said to have but one humor in it, which is supposed to give her the idea of light, but of nothing else, and is so formed that this idea is probably painful to the animal. Whenever she comes up into broad day, she might be in danger of being taken, unless she were thus affected by a light strik- ing upon her eye, and immediately warning her to bury herself in her proper element. More sight would be useless to her, as none at all might be fatal. I have only instanced such animals as seem the most imperfect works of nature ; and if Providence shows itself even in the blemishes of these crea- tures, how much more does it discover itself in the several endowments which it has variously bestow- ed upon such creatures as are more or less finished and completed in their several faculties, according to the condition of life in which they are posted ! I could wish our Koyal Society would compile a body of natural history, the best that could be gath- ered together from books and observations. If the several writers among them took each his particular species, and gave us a distinct account of its origin- al, birth, and education; its policies, hostilities, and alliances ; with the frame and texture of its inward and outward parts, and particularly those that dis- tinguish it from all other animals, with their peculiar aptitudes for the state of being in vc^hich Providence has placed them ; it would be one of the best ser- vices their studies could do mankind, and not a httle redound to the glory of the all-wise Contriver. It is true, such a natural history, after all the dis- 154 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. quisitions of the learned, would be infinitely short and defective. Seas and deserts hide millions of animals from, our observation. Innumerable artifices and stratagems are acted in the •* howling wilder- ness," and in the " great deep," that can never come to our knowledge. Besides that there are infinitely more species of creatures which are not to be seen without, nor indeed with, the help of the finest glasses, than of such as are bulky enough for the naked eye to take hold of However, from the con- sideration of such animals as lie within the compass of our knowledge, we might easily form a conclusion of the rest, that the same variety of wisdom and goodness runs through the whole creation, and puts every creature in a condition to provide for its safety and subsistence, in its proper station. TuUy has given us an admirable sketch of natural history, in his second book concerning the nature of the gods ; and that in a style so raised by metaphors and descriptions, that it lifts the subject above rail- lery and ridicule, which frequently fall on such nice observations, when they pass through the hands of an ordinary writer. EXTRACT IX. Good Intentions. Addison. It is the great art and secret of Christianity, (if I may use that phrase,) to manage our actions to the best advantage, and direct them in such a manner, that every thing we do may turn to account at that great day when every thing we have done will be set before us. In order to give this consideration its full weight, we may cast all our actions under the division of EXTRACT IX. 155 such as are in themselves either good, evil, or indif- ferent. If we divide our intentions after the same manner, and consider them with regard to our ac- tions, we may discover that great art and secret of religion which I have here mentioned. A good intention, joined to a good action, gives it its proper force and efficacy ; joined to an evil action, extenuates its malignity, and, in some cases, may take it wholly away; and, joined to an indifferent action, turns it to virtue, and makes it meritorious, as far as human action can be so. In the next place, to consider in the same manner the influence of an evil intention upon our actions. An evil intention perverts the best of actions, and makes them, in reality, what the fathers, with a witty kind of zeal, have termed the virtues of the heathen world, so many shining sins. It destroys the inno- cence of an indifferent action, and gives an evil ac- tion all possible blackness and horror ; or, in the em- phatical language of sacred writ, makes " sin exceed- ing sinful." If, in the last place, we consider the nature of an indifferent intention, we shall find that it destroys the merit of a good action ; abates, but never takes away, the malignity of an evil action ; and leaves an indifferent action in its natural state of indifference. It is, therefore, of unspeakable advantage to pos- sess our minds with an habitual good intention, and to aim all our thoughts, words, and actions at some laudable end, whether it be the glory of our Maker, the good of mankind, or the benefit of our own souls. This is a sort of thrift, or good husbandry, in moral life, which does not throw away any single action, but makes every one go as far as it can. It multi- plies the means of salvation, increases the number of our virtues, and diminishes that of our vices. This zealous and active obedience, however, takes place in the great point we are recommending ; for 156 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. if, instead of prescribing to ourselves indifferent ac- tions as duties, we apply a good intention to all our most indifferent actions, we make our very existence one continued act of obedience, Ave turn our diver- sions and amusements to our eternal advantage, and are pleasing Him whom we are made to please, in all the circumstances and occurrences of life. It is tliis excellent frame of mind, this holy offi- ciousness, (if I may be allowed to call it such,) which is recommended to us by the apostle in that uncom- mon precept wherein he directs us to propose to our- selves the glory of our Creator in all our most indif- ferent actions, " whether we eat, or drink, or whatso- ever we do." A person, therefore, who is possessed with such an habitual good intention as that which I have been here speaking of, enters upon no single circumstance of life, without considering it as well pleasing to the great Author of his being, conformable to the dic- tates of reason, suitable to human nature in general, or to that particular station in which Providence has placed him. He lives in the perpetual sense of the Divine Presence, regards himself as acting in the whole course of his existence, under the observation and inspection of that Being, who is privy to all his motions and all his thoughts, who knows his " down- sitting and his uprising, who is about his path, and about his bed, and spieth out all his ways." In a word, he remembers that the eye of his Judge is al- ways upon him ; and in every action he reflects that he is doing what is commanded or allowed by Him who will hereafter either reward or punish it. This was the character of those holy men of old, who, in that beautiful phrase of Scripture, are said to have " walked with God." EXTRACT X. 157 EXTRACT X. Paradise Lost. Johnson. By the general consent of critics, the first praise of genius is due to the writer of an epic poem ; as it requires an assemblage of all the powers which are singly sufficient for other compositions. Poetry is the art of uniting pleasure with truth, by calling im- agination to the help of reason. Epic poetry under- takes to teach the most important truths by the most pleasing precepts, and therefore relates some great event in the most aifecting manner. History must supply the writer with the rudiments of narration, which he must improve and exalt by a nobler art, must animate by dramatic energy, and diversify by retrospection and anticipation ; morality must teach him the exact bounds, and difierent shades of vice and virtue ; from policy, and the practice of life, he has to learn the discriminations of character, and the tendency of the passions, either single or combined ; and physiology, must supply him with illustrations and images. To put these materials to poetical use, is required an imagination capable of painting na- ture, and realizing fiction. Nor is he yet a poet till he has attained the whole extension of his language, distinguished all the delicacies of phrase, and all the colors of words, and learned to adjust their different sounds to all the varieties of metrical modulation. Bossu is of opinion, that the poet's first work is to find a moral, which his fable is afterward to illus- trate and establish. This seems to have been the process only of Milton ; the moral of other poems is incidental and consequent ; in Milton's only it is es- sential and intrinsic. His purpose was the most useful and the most arduous; "to vindicate the ways of God to man : " to shew the reasonableness 14 158 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. of religion, and the necessity of obedience to the Di- vine Law. To convey this moral, there must be a fable, a narration artfully constructed, so as to excite curios- ity, and surprise expectation. In this part of his work, Milton must be confessed to have equalled every other poet. He has involved, in his account of the fall of man, the events which preceded, and those that were to follow it : he has interwoven the whole system of theology with such propriety, that every part appears to be necessary ; and scarcely any recital is wished shorter for the sake of quicken- ing the progress of the main action. The subject of an epic poem is naturally an event of great importance. That of Milton is not the de- struction of a city, the conduct of a colony, or the foundation of an empire. His subject is the fate of worlds, the revolutions of heaven and of earth ; re- beUion against the supreme King, raised by the high- est order of created beings ; the overthrow of their host, and the punishment of their crime ; the crea- tion of a new race of reasonable creatures, their orig- inal happiness and innocence, their forfeitures of immortality, and their restoration to hope and peace. Great events can be hastened or retarded only by persons of elevated dignity. Before the greatness displayed in Milton's poem, all other greatness shrinks away. The weakest of his agents are the highest and noblest of human beings, the original parents of mankind; with whose actions the ele- ments consented ; on whose rectitude, or deviation of will, depended the state of terrestrial nature, and the condition of all the future inhabitants of the globe. Of the other agents in the poem, the chief are such as it is irreverence to name on shght occasions. The rest were lower powers : — EXTRACT XI. 159 of which the least could wield Those elements, and arm him with the force Of all their regions ; powers, which only the control of Omnipotence re- strains from laying creation waste, and filling the vast expanse of space with ruin and confusion. To display the motives and actions of beings thus supe- rior, so far as human reason can examine them, or human imagination represent them, is the task which tliis mighty Poet has undertaken and performed. EXTRACT XL Metaphysical Poetry. Johnson. Wit, like all other things subject by their nature to the choice of man, has its changes and fashions, and at different times takes different forms. About the beginning of the seventeenth century, appeared a race of writers that may be termed the metaphy- sical poets. These were men of learning; and to show their learning was their whole endeavor: but, unluckily resolving to show it in rhyme, instead of writing poetry, they only wrote verses, and very often such verses as stood the trial of the finger better than of the ear ; for the modulation was so imperfect that they were only found to be verses by counting the syllables. If the father of criticism has rightly denominated poetry, " an imitative art," these writers will, with- out great wrong, lose their right to the name of poets ; for they cannot be said to have imitated any thing: they neither copied nature nor life; neither painted the forms of matter, nor represented the operations of intellect. 160 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. Those, however, who deny them to be poets, al- low them to be wits. Dryclen confesses of himself and his contemporaries, that they fall below Donne in wit; but maintains, that they surpass him in poetry. If wit be well described by Pope, as being " that which has been often thought, but was never before so well expressed," they certainly never attained, nor ever sought it ; for they endeavored to be singu- lar in their thoughts, and were careless of their dic- tion. But Pope's account of wit is undoubtedly er- roneous ; he depresses it below its natural dignity, and reduces it from strength of thought to happiness of language. If, by a more noble and more adequate concep- tion, that be considered as wit, which is at once natural and new, that which, though not obvious, is, upon its first production, acknowledged to be just ; if it be that wliich he that never found it wonders how he missed ; to wit of this kind the metaphysical poets have seldom risen. Their thoughts are often ne^v, but seldom natural ; they are not obvious, but neither are they just; and the reader, far from wondering that he missed them, wonders more frequently by what perverseness of industry they were ever found. But wit, abstracted from its effects upon the hear- er, may be more rigorously and philosophically con- sidered as a combination of dissimilar images, or dis- covery of occult resemblances in things apparently unlike. Of wit, thus defined, they have more than enough. The most heterogeneous ideas are yoked by violence together ; nature and art are ransacked for illustrations, comparisons, and allusions ; their learning instructs, and their subtlety surprises; but the reader commonly thinks his improvement dearly bought, and, though he sometimes admires, is sel- dom pleased. From this account of their compositions, it will be EXTRACT XI. 161 readily infeiTed that they were not successful in re- presenting or moving the affections. As they were wholly employed on something unexpected and sur- prising, they had no regard to that uniformity of sen- timent which enables us to conceive and to excite the pains and the pleasure of other minds : they never inquired what, on any occasion, they should have said or done ; but wrote rather as beholders than partakers of human nature ; as beings looking upon good and evil, impassive and at leisure; as Epicurean deities, making remarks on the actions of men, and the vicissitudes of life, without interest and without emotion. Their courtship was void of fondness, and their lamentation of sorrow. Their wish was only to say what they hoped had never been said before. Nor was the sublime more within their reach than the pathetic ; for they never attempted that compre- hension and expanse of thought which at once fills the whole mind ; and of which the first efiect is sud- den astonishment, and the second rational admira- tion. Sublimity is produced by aggregation, and lit- tleness by dispersion. Great thoughts are always general, and consist in positions not limited by ex- ceptions, and descriptions not descending to minute- ness. It is with great propriety that subtlety, which, in its original import, means exility of particles, is taken in its metaphorical meaning for nicety of dis- tinction. Those writers who lay on the watch for novelty, could have little hope of greatness ; for great things cannot have escaped former observation. Their attempts were always analytic ; they broke every image into fragments ; and could no more re- present, by their slender conceits and labored parti- cularities, the prospects of nature, or the scenes of life, than he who dissects a sun-beam with a prism, can exhibit the wide efflilgence of a summer noon. What they wanted, however, of the sublime, they 14=* 162 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. endeavored to supply by hyperbole ; their amplifica- tion had no limits ; they left not only reason but fancy behind them ; and produced combinations of con- fused magnificence, that not only could not be credit- ed, but could not be imagined. Yet great labor, directed by great abilities, is never wholly lost : if they frequently threw away their wit upon false conceits, they likewise sometimes struck out unexpected truth: if their conceits were far- fetched, they were often worth the carriage. To write, on their plan, it was at least necessary to read and think. No man could be born a metaphysical poet, nor assume the dignity of a writer, by descrip- tions copied from descriptions, by imitations borrow- ed from imitations, by hereditary similes, by readi- ness of rhyme, and volubility of syllables. In perusing the works of this race of authors, the mind is exercised either by recollection or inquiry ; either something already learned is to be retrieved, or something new examined. If their greatness sel- dom elevates, their acuteness often surprises ; if the imagination is not always gratified, at least the powers of reflection and comparison are employed ; and, in the mass of materials which ingenious ab- surdity has thrown together, genuine wit and useful knowledge may be sometimes found buried, perhaps, in grossness of expression, but useful to those who know their value ; and such as, w^hen they are ex- panded to perspicuity, and polished to elegance, may give lustre to works which have more propriety, though less copiousness of sentiment. EXTRACT XII. 163 EXTRACT XIL PaYallel between Tope and Dry den. Johnson. Of composition there are different methods. Some employ, at once, memory and invention, and, with httle intermediate use of the pen, form and pohsh large masses by continued meditation, and write their productions only when, in their own opinion, they have completed them. It is related of Virgil, that his custom was to pour out a great number of verses in the morning, and pass the day in retrenching exu- berances, and correcting inaccuracies. The method of Pope, as may be collected from his translation, was to write his first thoughts in his first words, and gradually to amplify, decorate, rectify, and refine them. With such faculties, and such dispositions, he ex- celled every other writer in poetical prudence : he wrote in such a manner as might expose him to few hazards. He used almost always the same fabric of verse ; and, indeed, by those few essays which he made of any other, he did not enlarge his reputa- tion. Of this uniformity the certain consequence was readiness and dexterity. By perpetual practice, language had, in his mind, a systematical arrange- ment ; having always the same use for words, he had words so selected and combined as to be ready at his call. This increase of facility he confessed himself to have perceived in the progress of his translation. But what was yet of more importance, his effu- sions were always voluntary, and his subjects chosen by himself His independence secured him from drudging at a task, and laboring upon jj, barren topic ; he never exchanged praise for money, nor opened a shop of condolence or congratulation. His poems, 164 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. therefore, were scarcely ever temporary. He suf- fered coronations and royal marriages to pass Avith- out a song ; and derived no opportunities from recent events, or any popularity from the accidental dispo- sition of his readers. He was never reduced to the necessity of soliciting the sun to shine upon a birth- day, of calling the Graces and Virtues to a wedding, or of saying what multitudes have said before him. When he could produce nothing new, he was at lib- erty to be silent. His publications were, for the same reason, never hasty. He is said to have sent nothing to the press till it had, lain two years under his inspection ; it is at least certain, that he ventured nothing without nice examination. He suffered the tumult of imag- ination to subside, and the novelties of invention to grow familiar. He knew that the mind is always enamored of its productions, and did not trust his first fondness. He consulted his friends, and listened with great willingness to criticism ; and, what was of more importance, he consulted himself, and let nothing pass against his own judgment. He professed to have learned his poetry from Dry- den, whom, whenever an opportunity was presented, he praised, thi'ough his whole life, with unvaried lib- erality; and, perhaps, his character may receive some illustration, if he be compared with his master. Integrity of understanding, and nicety of discern- ment, were not allotted in a less proportion to Dry- den than to Pope. The rectitude of Dryden's mind was sufficiently shown by the dismission of his poet- ical prejudices, and the rejection of unnatural thoughts and rugged numbers. But Dryden never desired to apply all the judgment that he had. He wrote, and professed to write, merely for the people ; and when he . pleased others, he contented himself. He spent no time in struggles to rouse latent pow- ers ; he never attempted to make that better which EXTRACT XII. 165 was already good, nor often to mend what he must know to be faulty. He wi'ote, as he tells us, with very little consideration : when occasion or necessity called upon him, he poured out what the present moment happened to supply, and, Avhen once it had passed the press, ejected it from his- mind ; for when he had no pecuniary interest, he had no further so- licitude. Pope was not content to satisfy, he desired to ex- cel ; and therefore always endeavored to do his best ; he did not court the candor, but dared the judgment of his reader, and, expecting no indulgence from others, he showed none to himself. He examined lines and words with minute and punctilious obser- vation, and retouched every part with indefatigable diligence, till he had left nothing to be forgiven. For this reason he kept his pieces very long in his hands, while he considered and reconsidered them. The only poems which can be supposed to have been written with such regard to the times as might hasten their publication, were the two satires of " Thirty- eight," of which Dodsley told me that they were brought to him by the author, that they might be fairly copied. " Almost every line," he said, " was then written twice over ; I gave him a clean tran- script, which he sent some time afterward to me for the press, with almost every hne written twice over a second time." His declaration, that his care for his works ceased at their publication, was not strictly true. His pa- rental attention never abandoned them; what he found amiss in the first edition, he silently corrected in those that followed. He appears to have revised the Ihad, and freed it from some of its imperfec- tions ; and the Essay on Criticism received many imjirovements after its first appearance. It will sel- dom be found that he altered without adding clear- ness, elegance, or vigor. Pope had perhaps the 166 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. judgment of Dryden ; but Dryden certainly wanted the diligence of Pope. In acquired knowledge, the superiority must be allowed to Dryden, whose education was more scho- lastic, and who, before he became an author, had been allowed mare time for study, with better means of information. His mind has a larger range ; and he collects his images and illustrations from a more extensive circumference of science. Dryden knew more of man in his general nature, and Pope in his local manners. The notions of Dryden were formed by comprehensive speculation ; and those of Pope by minute attention. There is more dignity in the knowledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that of Pope. Poetry was not the sole praise of either ; for both excelled likewise in prose; but Pope did not borrow his prose from his predecessor. The style of Dry- den is capricious and varied ; that of Pope is cautious and uniform. Dryden obeys the motions of his own mind ; Pope constrains his mind to liis own rules of composition. Dryden is sometimes vehement and rapid ; Pope is always smooth, uniform, and gentle. Dryden' s page is a natural field, rising into inequali- ties, and diversified by the varied exuberance of abundant vegetation ; Pope's is a velvet lawn, sha- ven by the scythe and levelled by the roller. Of genius, that power which constitutes a poet ; that quality without wliich judgment is cold, and knowledge is inert ; that energy which collects, com- bines, amplifies, and animates ; the superiority must, with some hesitation, be allowed to Dryden. It is not to be inferred, that of this poetical vigor Pope had only a little, because Dryden had more; for every other writer since Milton must give place to Pope ; and even of Dryden it must be said, that, if he has brighter paragraphs, he has not better poems. Dryden' s performances were always hasty, either ex- EXTRACT XIII. 167 cited by some external occasion, or extorted by do- mestic necessity; he composed without considera- tion, and pubhshed without correction. What his mind could supply at call, or gather in one excursion, was all that he sought, and all that he gave. The dilatory caution of Pope enabled him to condense his sentiments, to multiply his images, and to accu- mulate all that study might produce, or chance might supply. If the flights of Dryden, therefore, are higher. Pope continues longer on the wing. If of , Dryden's fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope's the heat is more regular and constant. Dryden often sur- passes expectation, and Pope never falls below it. Dryden is read with frequent astonishment, and Pope with perpetual delight. The parallel will, I hope, when it is well consid- ered, be found just ; and if the reader should sus- pect me, as I suspect ihyself, of some partial fond- ness for the memory of Dryden, let him not too has- tily condemn me ; for meditation and inquiry may, perhaps, show him the reasonableness of my deter- mination. EXTRACT XIII. Advantage of reformatory over penal Legislation. Goldsmith. It Vere highly to be wished, that legislative power would direct the law rather to reformation than se- verity; that it would soon be convinced that the work of eradicating crimes is not by making punish- ment familiar, but formidable. Then, instead of our present prisons, which find or make men guilty, which enclose wretches for the commission of one crime, and return them, if returned ahve, fitted for 168 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. the perpetration of thousands, — it were to be wished we had, as in other parts of Europe, places of peni- tence and soHtude, where the accused might be at- tended by such as could give them repentance, if guilty, or new motives to virtue, if innocent. And this, but not the increasing of punishments, is the way to mend a state : nor can I avoid even ques- tioning the validity of that right which social combi- nations have assumed, of capitally punishing offen- ces of a slight nature. In cases of murder, their right is obvious ; as it is the duty of us all, from the law of self-defence, to cut off that man who has shown a disregard for the life of another. Against such all nature rises in arms ; but it is not so against him who steals my property. Natural law gives me no right to take away his life, as by that the horse he steals is as much his property as mine. If, then, I have any right, it must be from a compact made between us, that he who deprives the other of his horse, shall die. But this is a false compact; be- cause no man has a right to barter his life, no more than take it away, as it is not his own. And, be- sides, the compact is inadequate ; and it would be set aside, even in a court of modern equity, as there is a great penalty for a triffing inconvenience ; since it is far better that two men should live, than one man should ride. But a compact that is false be- tween two men, is equally so between a hundred and a hundred thousand ; for, as ten millions of cir- cles can never make a square, so the united voice of myriads cannot lend the smallest foundation to lalse- hood. It is thus that reason speaks ; and untutored nature says the same thing. Savages, that are di- rected by natural law alone, axe very tender of the lives of each other ; they seldom shed blood but to retahate former cruelty. Our Saxon ancestors, fierce as they were in war, had but few executions in times of peace ; and in all EXTRACT XIII. 169 commencing governments, that have the print of na- ture still strong upon them, scarce any crime is held capital. It is among the citizens of a refined community, that penal laws, wliich are in the hands of the rich, are laid upon the poor. Government, while it grows older, seems to acquire the moroseness of age ; and as if our property were become dearer in proportion as it increased ; as if the more enormous our wealth, the more extensive our fears, — all our possessions are paled up with new edicts every day, and hung round with gibbets, to scare every invader. I cannot tell whether it is from the number of our " penal laws, or the licentiousness of our people, that this country should show more convicts in a year than half the dominions of Europe united. Perhaps it is owing to both ; for they mutually produce each other. When, by indiscriminate penal laws, a na- tion beholds the same punishment affixed to dissimi- lar degrees of guilt, from perceiving no distinction in the penalty, the people are led to lose all sense of distinction in the crime; yet this distinction is the bulwark of all morahty : thus, the multitude of laws produces new vices, and new vices call for fresh re- straints. It were to be wished, then, that power, instead of contriving new laws to punish vice, instead of draw- ing hard the cords of society till a convulsion came to burst them, instead of cutting away wretches as useless, before we had tried their utihty, instead of converting correction into vengeance, — it were to be wished that we tried the restrictive arts of govern- ment, and made law the protector, but not the tyrant, of the people. We should then find, that creatures whose souls are held as dross, only wanted the hand of a refiner ; we should then find that wretches, now stuck up for long tortures, lest luxury should feel a momentary pang, might, if properly treated, serve 15 170 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. to sinew the state in times of danger ; that, as their faces are like ours, their hearts are so too ; that few minds are so base, as that perseverance cannot amend ; that a man may see his last crime without dying for it ; and that very httle blood will serve to cement our security. EXTRACT XIV. Fresent Suffering enhances the prospect of future Feli- city. Goldsmith. When I reflect on the distribution of good and evil here below, I find that much has been given to man to enjoy, yet still more to suffer. Though we should examine the whole world, we shall not find one man so happy as to have nothing left to wish for; but we daily see thousands who, by suicide, show us they have nothing left to hope. In tliis life, then, it appears that we cannot be entirely blest; but yet we may be completely miserable. Why man should thus feel pain ; why our wretch- edness should be requisite in the formation of uni- versal fehcity ; why, when all other systems are made perfect by the perfection of their subordinate parts, the great system should require for its perfection, parts that are not only subordinate to others, but im- perfect in themselves, — these are questions that never can be explained, and might be useless if known. On this subject Providence has thought fit to elude our curiosity, satisfied with granting us mo- tives to consolation. In this situation, man has called in the friendly assistance of philosophy; and Heaven, seeing the incapacity of that to console him, has given liim the EXTRACT XIV. 171 aid of religion. The consolations of philosophy are very amusing, but often fallacious. It tells us, that life is filled with comforts, if we will but enjoy them ; and, on the other hand, that, though we unavoidably have miseries here, life is short, and they will soon be over. Thus do these consolations destroy each other : for if life is a place of comfort, its shortness must be misery; and if it be long, our griefs are protracted. Thus, philosophy is weak ; but religion comforts in a higher strain. Man is here, it tells us, fitting up his mind, and preparing it for another abode. When the good man leaves the body, and is all a glorious mind, he will find he has been making him- self a heaven of happiness here ; while the wretch that has been maimed and contaminated by his vices, shrinks from his body with terror, and finds that he has anticipated the vengeance of Heaven. To reh- gion, then, we must hold in every circumstance of life, for our truest comfort: for if already we are happy, it is a pleasure to think that we can make that happiness unending ; and, if we are miserable, it is very consoling to think that there is a place of rest. Thus, to the fortunate, religion holds out a continuance of bliss ; to the wretched, a change from pain. But though religion is very kind to all men, it has promised peculiar rewards to the unhappy : the sick, the naked, the houseless, the heavy-laden, and the prisoner, has ever most frequent promises in our sacred law. The Author of our religion everywhere professes himself the wretch's friend; and, unlike the false ones of this world, bestows all his caresses upon the forlorn. The unthinking have censured this as partiality, as a preference without merit to deserve it. But they never reflect, that it is not in the power, even of Heaven itself, to make the offer of unceasing feUcity as great a gift to the happy as to the miserable. To the first, eternity is but a single 172 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. blessing ; since, at most, it but increases what they already possess. To the latter, it is a double advan- tage ; for it diminishes their pain here, and rewards them with heavenly bliss hereafter. But Providence is, in another respect, kinder to the poor than to the rich ; for, as it thus makes the life after death more desirable, so it smooths the passage there. The wretched have had a long fami- liarity with every face of terror. The man of sorrow lays himself quietly down, with no possessions to re- gret, and but few ties to stop his departure ; he feels only nature's pang in the final separation, and' this is no way greater than he has often fainted under be- fore ; for, after a certain degree of pain, every new breach that death opens in the constitution, nature kindly covers with insensibility. Thus, Providence has given to the wretched two advantages over the happy in this life, — greater fe- licity in dying, and, in heaven, all that superiority of pleasure which arises from contrasted enjoyment. And this superiority is no small advantage, and seems to be one of the pleasures of the poor man in the parable ; for though he was already in heaven, and felt all the raptures it could give, yet it was men- tioned, as an addition to his happiness, that he had once been wretched, and now was comforted ; that he had known what it was to be miserable, and now felt what it was to be happy. Thus, religion does what philosophy could never do: it shows the equal dealings of Heaven to the happy and the unhappy, and levels all human en- joyments to nearly the same standard. It gives to both rich and poor the same happiness hereafter, and equal hopes to aspire after it ; but, if the rich have the advantage of enjoying pleasure here, the poor have the endless satisfaction of knowing what it was once to be miserable, when crowned with endless felicity hereafter; and, even though this EXTRACT XV. 173 should be called a small advantage, yet, being an eternal one, it must make up, by duration, what the temporal happiness of the great may have exceeded by intenseness. EXTRACT XV. True Respectability. Benjamin Franklin. It is said that the Persians, in their ancient con- stitution, had public schools, in which virtue was taught as a liberal art or science ; and it is certainly of more consequence to a man, that he has learned to govern his passions ; — in spite of temptation, to be just in his dealings ; to be temperate in his pleas- ures; to support himself with fortitude under his misfortunes ; to behave with prudence in all his af- fairs, and in every circumstance of life : — I say it is of much more real advantage to him, to be thus qualified, than to be a master of all the arts and sci- ences in the world. — Virtue alone is sufficient to make a man great, glorious, and happy. He that is acquainted with Cato, as I am, cannot help thinking as I do now, and will acknowledge he deserves the name, without being honored by it. Cato is a man whom fortune has placed in the most obscure part of the country. His circumstances are such as only put him above necessity, without af- fording him many superfluities : yet who is greater than Cato? I happened, but the other day, to be at a house in town, where, among others, were met men of the most note in this place. Cato had business with some of them, and knocked at the door. The most trifling actions of a man, in my opinion, as well as the smallest features and hneaments of the face, 15* 174 SUBJECTS FOR EXEUCISES. give a nice observer some notion of his mind. Me- thought, he rapped in such a peculiar manner as seemed, of itself, to express there was one who de- served as well as desired admission. He appeared in the plainest country garb : his great-coat was coarse, and looked old and threadbare ; his linen was homespun ; his beard, perhaps, of seven days' growth ; his shoes thick and heavy ; and every part of his dress corresponding. Why was this man received with such concurring respect from every person in the room, even from those who had never known or seen him before ? It was not an exquisite form of person, or grandeur of dress, that struck us with admiration. I believe long habits of virtue have a sensible effect on the countenance. There was something in the air of his face, that manifested the true greatness of his mind; which likewise appeared in all he said, and in every part of his behavior, obliging us to regard him with a kind of veneration. His aspect is sweetened with humanity and be- nevolence, and, at the same time, emboldened with resolution, equally free from diffident bashfulness and an unbecoming assurance. The consciousness of his own innate worth and unshaken integrity, ren- ders him calm and undaunted in presence of the greatest and most powerful, and upon the most ex- traordinary occasions. His strict justice and known impartiality make him the arbitrator and decider of all differences that arise, for many miles around him, without putting his neighbors to the charge, perplex- ity, and uncertainty of lawsuits. He always speaks the thing he means, which he is never afraid or ashamed to do, because he always knows he means well, and therefore is never obliged to blush, and feel the confusion of finding himself detected in the meanness of a falsehood. He never contrives ill against his neighbor, and therefore is EXTRACT XV. 175 never seen with a lowering, suspicious aspect. A • mixture of innocence and wisdom makes him ever seriously cheerful. His generous hospitality to strangers, according to his ability, his goodness, his charity, his courage in the cause of the oppressed, his fidelity in friendship, his humility, his honesty and sincerity, his moderation, his loyalty to the gov- ernment, his piety, his temperance, his love to man- kind, his magnanimity, his public spiritedness, and, in fine, his consummate virtue, make him justly de- serve to be esteemed the glory of his country. Almost every man has a strong natural desire of being valued and esteemed by the rest of his spe- cies. But I am concerned and grieved to see how few fall into the right and only infallible method of becoming so. That laudable ambition is too com- monly misapplied, and often ill employed. Some, to make themselves considerable, pursue learning; others grasp at wealth ; some aim at being thought witty ; and others are only careful to make the most of a handsome person. But what is wit, or wealth, or form, or learning, when compared with virtue ? It is true we love the handsome, we applaud the learned, and we fear the rich and powerful ; but we -even worship and adore the virtuous. Nor is it strange ; since men of virtue are so rare, — so very rare to be found. If we were as industrious to be- come good, as to make ourselves great, we should become really great by being good ; and the number of valuable men would be much increased. But it is a grand mistake to think of being great without goodness ; and I pronounce it as certain, that there was never yet a truly great man that was not, at the same time, truly virtuous. 176 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. EXTRACT XVI. Ridicule. Benjamin Franklin. Kocliefoncauld tells us, somewhere in his Me- moirs, that the prince of Conde delighted much in ridicule, and used frequently to shut himself up, for half a day together, in his chamber, with a gentle- man who was his favorite, purposely to divert him- self with examining what was the foible, or ridicu- lous side, of every noted person in the court. That gentleman said, afterwards, in some company, that he thought nothing was more ridiculous in anybody, than this same humor in the prince ; and I am some- what inclined to be of this opinion. The general tendency there is among us to this embellishment, (which I fear has too often imposed upon my loving countrymen, instead of wit,) and the applause it meets with from a rising generation, fill me with fearful apprehensions for the future reputa- tion of my country. A young man of modesty, (which is the most certain indication of large capaci- ties,) is hereby discouraged from attempting to make any figure in life. His apprehension of being out- laughed, will force him to continue in a restless ob- scurity, without having an opportunity of knowing his own merit himself, or discovering it to the world, rather than venture to expose himself in a place where a pun or a sneer shall pass for wit, noise for reason, and the strength of the argument be judged of by that of the lungs. Among these witty gentlemen let us take a view of Kidentius. What a contemptible figure does he make with his train of paltry admirers ! This wight shall give himself an hour's diversion with the cock of a man's hat, the heels of his shoes, an unguarded expression in his discourse, or even some personal EXTRACT XVII. 177 defect ; and the height of his low ambition is to put some one of the company to the bhish, who perhaps must pay an equal share of the reckoning with him- self If such a fellow makes laughing the sole end and purpose of his hfe, if it is necessary to his constitu- tion, or if he has a great desire of growing suddenly fat, let him eat : let him give public notice where any dull, stupid rogues may get a quart of fourpenny for being laughed at. But it is barbarously unhand- some, when friends meet for the benefit of conversa- tion, and a proper relaxation from business, that one should be the butt of the company, and four men made merry at the cost of the fifth. How different from this character is that of the good-natured, gay Eugenius, who never spoke yet but with a design to divert and please ; and who was never yet balked in his intention ! Eugenius takes more delight in applying the wit of his friends, than in being admired himself; and if any one of the company is so unfortunate as to be touched a little too nearly, he will make use of some ingenious arti- fice to turn the edge of ridicule another way ; choos- ing rather to make himself a public jest, than be at the pain of seeing his friend in confusion. EXTRACT XVII. The Ugly Leg. Benjamin Franklin. There are two sorts of people in the world, who, with equal degrees of health and wealth, and the other comforts of life, become, the one happy, and the other miserable. This arises very much from the different views in which they consider tilings, 178 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. persons, and events ; and the effect of those differ- ent views upon their own mind. In whatever situation men can be placed, they may find conveniences and inconveniences : in what- ever company, they may find persons and conversa- tion more or less pleasing ; at whatever table, they may meet with meats and drinks of better and worse taste, dishes better and worse dressed ; in whatever climate, they will find good and bad weather ; under whatever government, they may find good and bad laws, and good and bad administration of those laws ; in whatever poem, or work of genius, they may see faults and beauties ; in almost every face, and every person, they may discover fine features and defects, good and bad quahties. Under these circumstances, the two sorts of people above mentioned fix their attention ; those who are disposed to be happy, on the conveniences of things, the pleasant parts of conversation, the well-dressed dishes, the goodness of the wines, or the fine weath- er, and enjoy all with cheerfulness. Those who are to be unappy, think and speak only of the contraries. Hence they are continually discontented themselves, and, by their remarks, sour the pleasures of society, offend personally many people, and make themselves everywhere disagreeable. If this turn of mind was founded in nature, such unhappy persons would be the more to be pitied. But as the disposition to criticise, and to be disgust- ed, is perhaps, taken up originally by imitation, and is, unawares, grown into a habit, wliich, though at present strong, may nevertheless be cured, when those who have it are convinced of its bad effects on their felicity; I hope this little admonition may be of service to them, and put them on changing a habit, which though, in the exercise, it is chiefly an act of imagination, yet has serious consequences in life, as it brings on real griefs and misfortunes. For, EXTRACT XVII. 179 as many are offended by, and nobody loves, this sort of people, no one shows them more than the most common civility and respect, and scarcely that ; and this frequently puts them out of humor, and draws them into disputes and contentions. If they aim at attaining some advantage in rank or fortune, nobody wishes them success, or will stir a step or speak a word, to favor their pretensions. If they incur public censure or disgrace, no one will defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate their misconduct, and render them completely odious. If these people will not change this bad habit, and con- descend to be pleased with what is pleasing, with- out fretting themselves and others about the contra- ries, it is good for others to avoid an acquaintance with them, which is always disagreeable, and some- times very inconvenient, especially when one finds oneself entangled in their quarrels. An old philosopliical friend of mine was gi-own, from experience, very cautious in this particular, and carefully avoided any intimacy with such people. He had, like other philosophers, a thermometer, to show him the heat of the weather, and a barometer, to mark when it was likely to prove good or bad; but there being no instrument invented to discover, at first sight, this unpleasing disposition in a person, he, for that purpose, made use of his legs ; one of which was remarkably handsome, the other, by some accident, crooked and deformed. If a stranger, at the fijrst interview, regarded his ugly leg more than his handsome one, he doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took no notice of the handsome leg, that was sufficient to determine my pliilosopher to have no farther acquaintance with him. Every body has not this two-legged instrument; but eveiy one, with a little attention, may observe signs of that carping, fault-finding disposition, and take the same resolution of avoicliug the acquaint- 180 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. ance of those infected w^ith it. I therefore advise those critical, querulous, discontented, unhappy peo- ple, that, if they wish to be respected and beloved by others, and happy in themselves, they should leave off looking at the ugly leg. EXTRACT XVIII. Luxury, Idleness, and Industry. Franklin. It is wonderful how preposterously the affairs of this world are managed. Naturally one would ima- gine that the interest of a few individuals should give way to general interest. But individuals man- age their affairs with so much more application, in- dustry, and address, than the public do theirs, that general interest most commonly gives way to j)arti- cular. We assemble parliaments and councils, to have the benefit of their collected wisdom ; but we neces- sarily have, at the same time, the inconvenience of their collected passions, prejudices, and private in- terests. By the help of these, artful men overpower their wisdom, and dupe its possessors; and, if we may judge by the acts, ari'ests, and edicts, all the world over, for regulating commerce, an assembly of great men is the greatest fool upon earth. I have not yet, indeed, thought of a remedy for luxury. I am not sure that, in a great state, it is capable of a remedy, nor that the evil is in itself al- ways so great as it is represented. Suppose we in- clude, in the definition of luxury, all unnecessary ex- pense ; and then let us consider whether laws to prevent such expense arc possible to be executed in a great country, and whether, if they could be exe- cuted, our people generally would be happier, or even EXTRACT XVIII. 181 richer. Is not the hope of being, one day, able to purchase and enjoy hixuries, a great spur to labor and industry? May not luxury, therefore, produce more than it consumes, if, without such a spur, peo- ple would be, as they are naturally enough inclined to be, lazy and indolent ? In our commercial towns upon the seacoast, for- tunes will occasionally be made. Some of those who grow rich, will be prudent, live within bounds, and preserve what they have gained for their posterity : others, fond of showing their wealth, will be extra- vagant, and ruin themselves. Laws cannot prevent this ; and, perhaps, it is not always an evil to the public. A shilling spent idly by a fool, may be pick- ed up by a wise person who knows better what to do with it. It is therefore not lost. A vain, silly fellow builds a fine house, furnishes it richly, lives m it expensively, and, in a few years, ruins himself. But the masons, carpenters, smiths, and other honest tradesmen, have been, by his employ, assisted in maintaining and raising their families ; the farmer has been paid for his labor, and encouraged ; and the estate is now in better hands. In some cases, indeed, certain modes of luxury may be a pubhc evil, in the same manner as it is a private one. If there be, for instance, a nation that exports its beef and linen, to pay for the importation of claret and porter, while a great part of its people live upon potatoes, and wear no shirts, wherein does it differ from the sot who lets liis family starve, and sells his clothes to buy drink ? Our American com- merce is, I confess, a little in this way. We sell our victuals to the islands for rum and sugar, — the substantial necessaries of hfe for superfluities. But we have plenty, and live well nevertheless ; though, by being soberer, we might be richer. The vast quantity of forest land we have yet to clear, and put in order for cultivation, will, for a long IG 182 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. time, keep the body of our nation laborious and fru- gal. Forming an opinion of our people and their manners, by what we have seen among the inhabit- ants of the seaports, is judging from an improper sample. The people of the trading towns may be rich and luxurious, while the country possesses all the virtues that tend to promote happiness and pub- lic prosperity. Those towns are not much regarded by the country; they are hardly considered as an essential part of the States ; and the experience of the last war has shown that their being in possession of the enemy did not necessarily draw on the sub- jection of the country, which bravely continued to maintain its freedom and independence, notwith- standing. It has been computed by some political arithmeti- cian, that if every man and woman would work for four hours, each day, on something useful, that labor would produce sufficient to procure all the neces- saries and comforts of Ufe ; want and misery would be banished out of the world ; and the rest of the twenty-four hours might be leisure and pleasure. What occasions, then, so much want and misery ? It is the employment of men and women in works that produce neither the necessaries nor the conve- niences of life, — who, with them who do nothing, consume necessaries raised by the laborious. To explain this. — The first elements of wealth are obtained by labor, from the earth and waters. I have land, and raise corn. With this if I feed a family that does nothing, my corn will be consumed, and, at the end of the year, I shall be no richer than I was at the beginning. But if, while I feed them, I employ them, some in spinning, others in making bricks, etc., for building, the value of my corn will be arrested, and remain with me; and, at the end of the year, we may all be better clothed and better lodged. And if, instead of employing a man whom EXTRACT XVIII. 183 I feed, in making bricks, I employ liim in fiddling for me, the corn he eats is gone ; and no part of his manufacture remains to augment the wealth and convenience of the family. I shall therefore be the poorer for this fiddling man, unless the rest of my family work more or eat less, to make up the defi- ciency he occasions. Look round the world, and see the millions em- ployed in doing nothing, or in something that amounts to nothing, when the necessaries and con- veniences of life are in question. What is the bulk of commerce, for which we fight and destroy each other, but the toil of millions for superfluities, to the great hazard and loss of many lives, by the constant dangers of the sea ? How much labor is spent in building and fitting great ships, to go to China and Arabia, for tea and coffee, to the West Indies for sugar, to America for tobacco ! These things can- not be called the necessaries of life ; for our ances- tors lived very comfortably without them. A question may be asked ; could all these people now employed in raising, making, or carrying super- fluities, be subsisted by raising necessaries ? I think they might. The world is large, and a great part of it still uncultivated. Many hundred millions of acres in Asia, Africa, and America, are still in a forest; and a great deal even in Europe. On a hundred acres of this forest a man might become a substan- tial farmer ; and a hundred thousand men, employed in clearing each his hundred acres, would hardly brighten a spot big enough to be visible from the moon, unless with Herschel's telescope ; so vast are the regions still in wood. It is, however, some comfort to reflect, that, upon the whole, the quantity of industry and prudence among mankind exceeds the quantity of idleness and folly. Hence the increase of good buildings, farms cultivated, and populous cities filled with wealth, all 184 SUBJECTS FOR EXEECISES. over Europe, which, a few ages since, were only to be found on the coasts of the Mediterranean ; and this notwithstanding the mad wars continually rag- ing, by which are often destroyed, in one year, the works of many years' peace ; so that we may hope the luxury of a few merchants on the coast will not be the ruin of America. One reflection more, and I will end this long ram- bling paper. — Almost all parts of our bodies require some expense; the feet demand shoes; the legs, stockings; the rest of the body clothing; and the stomach a good deal of victuals. Our eyes, though exceedingly useful, ask, when reasonable, only the cheap assistance of spectacles, which could not much impair our finances. But the eyes of other people are the eyes that ruin us. If all but myself were blind, I should want neither fine clothes, fine houses, nor fine furniture. EXTRACT XIX. The Influence ofprofessional Associations, on the sense of Beauty. Rev. Dr. Alison. No man, in general, is sensible to beauty in those subjects with regard to which he has not previous ideas. The beauty of a theory, or of a relic of anti- quity, is uninteUigible to a peasant. The charms of the country are altogether lost upon a citizen who has passed his life in town. In the same manner, the more that our ideas are increased, or our concep- tions extended, upon any subject, the greater the number of associations we connect with it, the stron- ger is the emotion of sublimity or beauty we receive from it. The pleasure, for instance, which the generality EXTRACT XIX. 185 of mankind receive from any celebrated painting, is trifling, when compared to that which a painter feels, if he is a man of any common degree of candor. What is to them only an accurate representation of nature, is to him a beautiful exertion of genius, and a perfect display of art. The difficulties which occur to his mind in tlie design and execution of such a performance, and the testimonies of skill, of taste, and of invention, which the accompHshment of it exhibits, excite a variety of emotions in his breast, of which the common spectator is altogether unsus- ceptible ; and the admiration with which he thus contemplates the genius and art of the painter, blends itself with the peculiar emotions which the picture itself can produce, and enhances to him every beau- ty that it may possess. The beauty of any scene in nature, is seldom so striking to others as it is to a landscape-painter, or to those who profess the beautiful art of laying out grounds. The difficulties both of invention and exe- cution, which from their professions are familiar to them, render the profusion with which nature often scatters the most picturesque beauties, little less than miraculous. Every little circumstance of form and perspective, and light and shade, which is unnoticed by a common eye, is important in theirs, and, ming- ling in their minds the ideas of difficulty and facihty n overcoming it, produces altogether an emotion of delight, incomparably more animated than any that the generality of mankind usually derive from it. The delight which most men of education receive from the consideration of antiquity, and the beauty that they discover in every object which is connect- ed with ancient times, is, in a great measure, to be ascribed to the same cause. The antiquarian, in his cabinet, surrounded by the relics of former ages, seems to himself to be removed to periods that are long since past, and indulges in the imagination of 1G=^ 186 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. living in a world which, by a very natural land of prejudice, we are always wiUing to beheve was both wiser and better than the present. All that is vene- rable or laudable in the history of those times, pre- sents itself to his memory. The gallantry, the hero- ism, the patriotism of antiquity, rise again before his view, softened by the obscurity in which they are involved, and rendered more seducing to the imagi- nation by that obscurity itself, which, while it mingles a sentiment of regret amid his pursuits, serves, at the same time, to stimulate his fancy to fill up, by its own creation, those long intervals of time of which history has preserved no record. The relics he con- templates seem to approach him still nearer to the ages of his regard. The dress, the furniture, the arms of the times, are so many assistances to his imagination, in guiding or directing its exercise, and, offering him a thousand sources of imagery, provide him with an almost inexhaustible field in which liis memory and his fancy may expatiate. There are few men who have not felt somewhat, at least, of the delight of such an employment. There is no man in the least acquainted with the liistory of anti- quity, who does not love to let his imagination loose on the prospect of its remains, and to whom they are not, in some measure, sacred, from the innumerable images which they bring. Even the peasant, whose knowledge of former times extends but to a few generations, has yet, in his village, some monument of the deeds or virtues of his forefathers ; and cher- ishes with a fond veneration the memorial of those good old times to which his imagination returns with delight, and of which he loves to recount the simple tales that tradition has brought him. And what is it that constitutes that emotion of sublime delight, which eveiy man of common sensi- bility feels upon the first prospect of Rome ? It is not the scene of destruction which is before him. EXTRACT XX. 187 It is not the Tiber, diminished in his imagination to a paltry stream, and stagnating amid the ruins of that magnificence which it once adorned. It is not the triumph of superstition over the wreck of human greatness, and its monuments erected upon the very spot where the first honors of humanity have been gained. It is ancient Rome w^liich fills his imagina- tion. It is the country of Ca3sar, and Cicero, and Virgil, which is before him. It is the mistress of the world w^hich he sees, and who seems to him to rise again from her tomb, to give laws to the universe. All that the labors of his youth, or the studies of his maturer age have acquired, with regard to the his- tory of this great people, opens at once before his imagination, and presents him with a field of high and solemn imagery, which can never be exhausted. Take from him these associations, conceal from him that it is Rome that he sees, and how difierent would be liis emotion ! EXTRACT XX. The Beauty of the Human Form. Rev. Dr. Alison. The human form is not a simple form. It is a complicated frame composed of many parts, in which some relation of these parts is required by every eye, and from which relation, beauty or deformity is the actual and experienced result. If the positive beau- ty of the human form arises, in all various and differ- ent cases, from its expression of character of mind, then it ought to follow, that the beauty of composi- tion in this complicated form, ought, as in all other cases of composition, to arise from the preservation of unity of character ; that no forms or proportions ought to be felt as beautiful, but those which accord 188 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. with this central expression, and that different forms and different proportions ought to be felt as beauti- ful, whenever they are significant of the characters we wish and expect. — If these are found to be facts, I apprehend it will not only be sufficient to show the real origin of the beauty of form, but to es- tablish some more definite conceptions, with regard to the nature of the beauty we experience in these relations of the parts of the human form. That the beauty of composition in the form of man, is determined by this unity of character or ex- pression, or, in other words, that the principle by which we judge of the beauty of any member or members of the form, is that of their correspondence to the general expression, is a proposition which seems very consistent with common experience. Every form which we remark for beauty, has always some specific character which is the foundation of our admiration. It is either manly, or gallant, or ma- jestic, or dignified ; or feminine, or gentle, or modest, or delicate : as such we feel, and as such we describe it. It seldom happens, however, in actual life, that any form of this kind appears to us in which we are not conscious of some defect, — of some limb or member being unsuitable to the rest, and affecting us with some sense of pain or dissatisfaction. If we ask ourselves what is the reason of our disapproba- tion, or if we attend to the language of others, we shall find, I think, that it is always resolvable into the want of correspondent expression, and that the imaginary attempts we make to rectify it, consist in new-modelling the faulty members, so as to accord with this expression. It is painful to us, thus, to see a form of general delicacy with any strong muscular limb, to see a bust of manliness or strength, -with limbs either short or attenuated, or limbs of great strength and vigor, with a thin and hectic form of body. In representations of the form of woman, it EXTRACT XX. 189 is, in the same manner, painful to observe any limb of masculine size or strength ; and so delicate is even the rudest feeling upon this subject, that the form of a foot, or of a finger, can detract from the most perfect beauty. When we have the misfortune to witness any defect of this kind, we wish, — and per- haps we express our wishes, — to remedy it; and what is the object of our wishes? Is it not to re- duce the too powerful, or to increase the too atten- uated limb to the general character of the form, to maintain throughout it that unity of expression which is necessary to our complete emotion ; and if, either in idea or in imitation, we can succeed in these wish- es, do we not feel, ourselves, and teach others to feel, the full effect of that beautiful form which na- ture or art has left imperfect ? Is it not consistent, in the same manner, with general experience, that, in describing a beautiful form to those who have not seen it, we always begin by stating the character which it signifies ; and, if we end by asserting that all the various members of the form correspond in maintaining this characteristic expression, do we not succeed in convincing them that the form is beauti- ful, and that its composition is as perfect as its ex- pression ? The standard, I believe, by which we chiefly esti- mate the general character of the form, is that of the expression of the countenance. We very seldom, I apprehend, pretend to judge of the beauty of the form of any person, whose countenance we have not seen. Of a mutilated statue of which the head was lost, we might speak securely of the propriety of its mere physical proportions, but I think we should not speak with equal security of the beauty of the composition of its members. In studying any of the greater forms of statuary or painting, I conceive, in the same man- ner, that we shall feel in ourselves, and that we may observe in others, that our eye is perpetually moving 190 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. from the countenance to the form ; that until we feel distinctly the character which the countenance ex- l^resses, we are at a loss to conceive the meaning of the composition; and that when we do feel it, we then immediately conceive that we are in possession of the key by which the form and the proportion of every member is to be estimated. The moment, either in the observation of nature or of the arts of imitation, that we feel the countenance to -be ex- pressive of character, we instantly expect and look for a unity in the composition of every member of the form. The most insignificant portions of the frame, seem then to arise into meaning and conse- quence ; we demand that all of these should contri- bute, by the nature of their character, to the general character of the countenance; and if any of them are defective, we lament either over the accidents of nature, or the incapacity of the artist. Were we to state to any person, that a statue had all the pro- portions which the assiduity of technical taste had ascertained, that every limb was fashioned accord- ing to the most approved rule, and the whole com- posed of the most perfect individual members, the impression, I think, we should leave upon him, would be, that it was a work of consummate art, and that the labor of the artist was deserving of much re- ward. Were we, on the other hand, to state to him that this statue had some great or interesting cha- racter, that the countenance expressed some heroic or some amiable passion, and that every Hmb and every Hne of the form was in full correspondence with this expression, I apprehend we should give him the conviction, that the statue was a master- piece of genius, and that no language of enthusiasm was superior to its deserts. EXTRACT XXI. 191 EXTRACT XXL Autumnal Reflections. Washington Irving. It is either my good fortune or mishap to be keen- ly susceptible to the influence of the atmosphere; and I can feel in the morning, before I open my. window, whether the wind is easterly. It will not, therefore, I presume, be considered an extravagant] instance of vain-glory, when I assert, that there are' few men who can discriminate more accurately in the different varieties of damps, fogs, Scotch mists, and north-east storms, than myself. To the great discredit of my philosophy, I confess, I seldom fail to anathematize and excommunicate the weather, when it sports too rudely with my sensitive system ; but then I always endeavor to atone therefor, by eu- logizing it, when deserving of approbation. And, as most of my readers, (simple folks!) make but one distinction, to wit, rain and sunshine, — living in most honest ignorance of the various nice shades w^hich distinguish one fine day from another, — I take the trouble, from time to time, of letting them into some of the secrets of nature ; — so will they be the better enabled to enjoy her beauties, with the zest of con- noisseurs, and derive, at least, as much information from my pages, as from the weather-wise lore of the almanac. Much of my recreation, has consisted in making little excursions through my neighborhood, which abounds in the variety of wild, romantic, and luxuri- ant landscape, that generally characterises the scen- ery in the vicinity of our rivers. There is not an eminence within a circuit of many miles but com- mands an extensive range of diversified and en- chanting prospect. Often have I rambled to the summit of some fa- 192 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. vorite hill, and, tlience, with feelings sweetly tran- quil as the lucid expanse of the heavens that cano- pied me, have noted the slow and almost impercepti- ble changes that mark the waning year. There are many features peculiar to our autumn, and which give it an individual character : the " green and yel- low melancholy," that first steals over the landscape, — the mild and steady serenity of the weather, and the transparent purity of the atmosphere, speak, not merely to the senses but the heart ; — it is the sea- son of liberal emotions. To this succeeds fantastic gayety, a motley dress, which the woods assume, where green and yellow, orange, purple, crimson, and scarlet, are whimsically blended together. — A sickly splendor this I — like the wild and broken- hearted gayety that sometimes precedes dissolution, or that childish sportiveness of superannuated age, proceeding, not from a vigorous flow of animal spir- its, but from the decay and imbecility of the mind. We might, perhaps, be deceived by this gaudy garb of nature, were it not for the rustling of the falling leaf, which, breaking on the stillness of the scene, seems to announce, in prophetic wliispers, the dreary winter that is approaching. When I have sometimes seen a thrifty young oak changing its hue of sturdy vigor for a bright, but transient glow of red, it has recalled to my mind the treacherous bloom that once mantled the cheek of a friend who is now no more ; and which, while it seemed to promise .a long life of jocund spirits, was the sure precursor of premature decay. A little while, and this ostentatious foliage disap- pears: — the close of autumn leaves but one wide expanse of dusky brown, save where some riviilet steals along, bordered with little strips of green grass ; — the woodland echoes no more to the carols of the feathered tribes that sported in the leafy co- vert ; and its sohtude and silence is uninterrupted, EXTRACT XXI. 193 except by the plaintive whistle of the quail, the barking of the squirrel, or the still more melancholy wintry wind, which rushing and swelling through the hollows of the mountains, sighs through the leaf- less branches of the grove, and seems to mourn the desolation of the year. To one who, like myself, is fond of drawing com- parisons between the different divisions of life, and those of the seasons, there will appear a striking an- alogy which connects the feehngs of age with the decline of the year. Often as I contemplate the mild, uniform, and genial lustre with which the sun cheers and invigorates us in the month of October, and the almost imperceptible haze which, without obscuring, tempers all the asperities of the land- scape, and gives to every object a character of still- ness and repose, I cannot help comparing it with that portion of existence, when the spring of youth- ful hope, and the summer of the passions having gone by, reason assumes an undisputed sway, and lights us on with bright, but undazzling lustre, adown the hill of life. There is a full and mature luxuri- ance in the fields, that fills the bosom with generous and disinterested content. It is not the thoughtless extravagance of spring, prodigal only in blossoms, nor the languid voluptuousness of summer, feverish in its enjoyments, and teeming only with immature abundance ; — it is that certain fruition of the labors of the past, — that prospect of comfortable reahties which those will be sure to enjoy who have improv- ed the bounteous smiles of heaven, nor wasted away their spring and summer in empty trifling or criminal indulgence. 17 194 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. EXTRACT XXII. Female Character. Washington Irving. Modern philosophers may determine the proper destination of the sex ; — they may assign to them an extensive and briUiant orbit, in which to revolve, to the delight of the million, and the confusion of man's superior intellect; but, on this subject, we dis- claim philosophy, and appeal to the liigher tribunal of the heart : — and what heart that has not lost its better feelings, would ever seek to repose its happi- ness on the bosom of one, whose pleasures all lay without the threshold of home, — who snatched en- joyment only in the whirlpool of dissipation, and amid the thoughtless and evanescent gayety of a ball-room ? The fair one who is forever in the ca- reer of amusement, may, for a while, dazzle, aston- ish, and entertain ; but we are content with coldly admiring, and fondly turn from glitter and noise, to seek the happy fireside of social life, there to confide our dearest and best afiections. Yet some there are, who mingle freely with the world, unsullied by its contaminations; — whose bril- liant minds, like the stars of the firmament, are des- tined to shed their light abroad, and gladden every beholder with their radiance: — to withhold them from the world would be doing it injustice; — they are inestimable gems, which were never formed to be shut up in caskets, but to be the pride and orna- ment of elegant society. We should endeavor always to discriminate be- tween a female of this superior order, and the thoughtless votary of pleasure, who, destitute of in- tellectual resources, is servilely dependent on others for every Httle pittance of enjoyment, — who exhibits herself incessantly amid the noise, the giddy frolic, EXTRACT XXII. 195 and capricious variety of fashionable assemblages, — dissipating her languid affections on a crowd, — lav- ishing her ready smiles with indiscriminate prodigal- ity on the worthy, or the undeserving, — and listen- ing, with equal vacancy of mind, to the conversation of the enlightened, the frivolity of the coxcomb, and the flourish of the fiddle-stick. There is a certain artificial polish, — a^common- place vivacity, — acquired by perpetually mingling in the heau-monde ; which, in the commerce of the world, supplies the place of natural suavity and good humor, but is purchased at the expense of all orig- inal and sterling traits of character. By a kind of fashionable discipline, the eye is taught to brighten, the lip to smile, and the whole countenance to radi- ate with the semblance of friendly welcome, — while the bosom is unwarmed by a single spark of genuine kindness or good will. This elegant simulation may be admired by the connoisseur of character, as a per- fection of art ; but the heart is not to be deceived by the superficial illusion : it turns with delight to the timid retiring fair one, whose smile is the smile of nature ; whose blush is the soft sufiiision of dehcate sensibility ; and whose affections, unblighted by the chilling effects of dissipation, glow with all the ten- derness and purity of artless youth. Hers is a sin- gleness of mind, a native innocence of manners, and a sweet timidity, that steal insensibly upon the heart, and lead it a willing captive: — though venturing occasionally among the fairy haunts of pleasure, she shrinks from the broad glare of notoriety, and seems to seek refuge among her friends, even from the ad- miration of the world. 196 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES, EXTRACT XXIII. A Voyage up the Hudson, in the olden time. "Washington Irving. Wildness and savage majesty reigned on the bor- ders of this mighty river. — The hand of cultivation had not yet laid low the dark forest, and tamed the features of the landscape ; nor had the frequent sail of commerce yet broken in upon the profound and awful solitude of ages. Here and there might be seen a rude wigwam, perched among the cliffs of the mountains, with its curling column of smoke mount- ing in the transparent atmosphere ; but so loftily sit- uated, that the whoopings of the savage children, gambolling on the margin of the dizzy heights, fell almost as faintly on the ear, as do the notes of the lark, when lost in the azure vault of heaven. Now and then from the beetling brow of some rocky pre- cipice, the wild deer would look timidly down upon the splendid pageant as it passed below ; and then, tossing his branching antlers in the air, would bound away into the thickest of the forest. Now did they skirt the basis of the rocky heights of Jersey, which spring up like everlasting walls, reaching from the waves into the heavens ; and were fashioned, if tradition may be believed, in times long past, by the mighty spirit Manetho, to protect his fa- vorite abodes from the unhallowed eyes of mortals. Now did they career it gayly across the vast expanse of Tappan Bay, whose wide-extended shores present a vast variety of delectable scenery, — here the bold promontory, crowned with embowering trees, ad- vancing into the bay, — there the long woodland slope, sweeping up from the shore in rich luxuriance, and terminating in the upland precipice, — while, at a distance, a long wavering Una of rocky heights EXTRACT XXIII. 197 threw their gigantic shades across the water. Now would they pass where some modest Uttle interval, opening among these stupendous scenes, yet re- treating, as it were for protection, into the embraces of the neighboring mountains, displayed a rural para- dise, fraught with sweet and pastoral beauties ; the velvet-tufted lawn, the bushy copse, the tinkling rivulet, stealing through the fresh and vivid ver- dure, on whose banks was situated some little In- dian village, or, peradventure, the rude cabin of some solitary hunter. The different periods of the revolving day seemed each, with cunning magic, to diffuse a different charm over the scene. Now would the jovial sun break gloriously from the east, blazing from the summits of eastern hills, and sparkling the landscape with a thousand dewy gems ; while along the borders of the river were seen heavy masses of mist, which like midnight caitiffs, disturbed at his approach, made a sluggish retreat, rolling, in sullen reluctance, up the mountains. At such times, all was brightness, and life, and gayety ; the atmosphere seemed of an indescribable pureness and transparency ; — the birds broke forth in wanton madrigals ; and the freshening breezes wafted the vessel merrily on her course. But when the sun sunk amid a flood of glory in the west, mantling the heavens and the earth with a thousand gorgeous dyes ; then all was calm, and si- lent, and magnificent. The late swelling sail hung lifelessly against the mast ; — the simple seaman with folded arms leaned against the shrouds, lost in that involuntary musing, which the sober grandeur of na- ture commands, in the rudest of her children. The vast bosom of the Hudson was like an unruffled mirror, reflecting the golden splendor of the heavens, excepting that, now and then, a bark canoe would steal across its surface, filled with painted savages, whose gay feathers glared brightly as perchance a 17# 198 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. lingering ray of the setting sun gleamed upon them from the western mountains. But when the hour of twihght spread its magic mists around, then did the face of nature assume a thousand fugitive charms, which to the worthy heart that seeks enjoyment in the glorious works of its Maker, are inexpressibly captivating. The mellow dubious Hght that prevailed just served to tinge with illusive colors, the softened features of the scenery. The deceived but delighted eye sought vainly to dis- cern, in the broad masses of shade, the separating line between the land and water, or to distinguish the fading objects that seemed sinking into chaos. Now did the busy fancy supply the feebleness of vision, producing, with industrious craft, a fairy crea- tion of her own. Under her plastic wand, the barren rocks frowned upon the watery waste, in the sem- blance of lofty towers and high embattled castles ; — trees assumed the direful forms of mighty giants ; and the inaccessible summits of the mountains seem- ed peopled with a thousand shadowy beings. Now broke forth from the shores the notes of an innumerable variety of insects, who filled the air with a strange but not inharmonious concert ; while ever and anon was heard the melancholy plaint of the whip-poor-will, who, perched on some lone tree, wearied the ear of night with his incessant mean- ings. The mind, soothed into a hallowed melan- choly by the solemn mystery of the scene, listened, with pensive stillness, to catch and distinguish each sound that vaguely echoed from the shore, — now and then startled perchance by the whoop of some stragghng savage, or the dreary howl of some caitiff wolf, stealing forth upon his nightly prowlings. • EXTRACT XXIV. 199 f K ■ EXTRACT X^IV. Poetry. William Ellery Channing. Poetry seems, to us, the divinest of all arts ; for it is the breathing or expression of that principle or sentiment which is deepest and sublimest in human nature ; we mean, of that thirst or aspiration, to which no mind is wholly a stranger, for something purer and lovelier, something more powerful, lofty, and thrilling, than ordinary and real life affords. No" doc- trine is more common among Christians than that of man's immortahty ; but it is not so generally under- stood, that the germs or principles of his whole fu- ture being are now wrapped up in liis soul, as the rudiments of the future plant in the seed. As a necessary result of this constitution, the soul, posses- sed and moved by these mighty though infant ener- gies, is perpetually stretching beyond what is pre- sent and visible, struggling against the bounds of its earthly prison-house, and seeking relief and joy in imaginings of unseen and ideal being. This view of our nature, which has never been fully developed, and which goes farther towards explaining the con- tradictions of human life than all others, carries us to the very foundation and sources of poetry. He who can not interpret by his own consciousness what we now have said, wants the true key to works of genius. He has not penetrated those sacred recess- es of the soul, where poetry is born and nourished, and inhales immortal vigor, and wings herself for her heaven-ward flight. In an intellectual nature, framed for progress and for higher modes of being, there must be creative energies, power of original and ever growing thought; and poetry is the form in which these energies are chiefly manifested. It is the glorious prerogative of fj;f{^0| f;-r - . >SpB^,I^CXS ^R EXERCISES. ^'ili^^i'fTTliiakesJRl things new" for the grati- linct. It indeed finds its ele- niefi'fes:^fe;^^ai5**^'^^^^lly sees and experiences, in the worlds of matter and mind ; but it combines and blends these into new forms and according to new affinities ; breaks down, if we may so say, the dis- tinctions and bounds of nature ; imparts to material objects life, and sentiment, and emotion, and invests the mind with the powers and splendors of the out- ward creation ; describes the surrounding universe in the colors which the passions throw over it, and depicts the mind in those modes of repose or agita- tion, of tenderness or sublime emotion, which mani- fest its thirst for a more powerful and joyful exist- ence. To a man of a literal and prosaic character, the mind may seem lawless in these workings ; but it observes higher laws than it transgresses, the laws of the immortal intellect ; it is trying and developing its best faculties; and in the objects wliich it de- scribes, or in the emotions which it awakens, antici- pates those states of progressive power, splendor, beauty, and happiness, for which it was created. We accordingly believe that poetry, far from in- juring society, is one of the great instruments of its refinement and exaltation. It lifts the mind above ordinary life, gives it a respite from depressing cares, and awakens the consciousness of its affinity with what is pure and noble. In its legitimate and high- est efforts, it has the same tendency and aim with Christianity ; that is, to spiritualise our nature. True, poetry has been made the instrument of vice, the pander of bad passions ; but when genius thus stoops, it dims its fii'es, and parts with much of its power ; and even when poetry is enslaved to licentiousness or misanthropy, she cannot wholly forget her true vocation : Strains of pure feeling, touches of tender- ness, images of innocent happiness, sympathies with what is good in our nature, bursts of scorn and in- dignation at the hollowness\|f yie^v-orld, passa^s true to our mortal nature, ofillfc e'scape in. an im- moral work, and show us how hard it is for a gifted spirit to divorce itself wholly from what is good. Poetry has a natural alliance with our best affec- tions. It dehghts in the beauty and subhmity of outward nature and of the soul. It indeed portrays with terrible energy, the excesses of the passions ; but they are passions wliich show a mighty nature, wliich are full of power, which command awe, and excite a deep though shuddering sympathy. Its great tendency and purpose is, to carry the mind be- yond and above the beaten, dusty, weary walks of ordinary life ; to lift it into a purer element, and to breathe into it a more profound and generous emo- tion. It reveals to us the loveliness of nature, brings back the freslmess of youthful feeling, revives the reUsh of simple pleasures, keeps unquenched the enthusiasm which warmed the spring time of our being, refines youthful love, strengthens our interest in human nature by vivid delineations of jts tender- est and loftiest feelings, spreads our sympathies over all classes of society, knits us by new ties with uni- versal being, and, through the brightness of its pro- phetic visions, helps faith to lay hold on the future life. We are aware, that it is objected to poetry, that it gives wrong views and excites false expectations of life, peoples the mind with shadows and illusions, and builds up imagination on the ruins of wisdom. That there is a wisdom, against which poetry wars, the wisdom of the senses, 'which makes physical comfort and gratification the supreme good, and wealth the chief interest of life, we do not deny ; nor do we deem it the least service which poetry renders to mankind, that it redeems them from the thraldom of this earth-bom prudence. But, passing over this topic, we would observe, that the complaint 202 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. i against poetry as aboufiding in illusion and decep- tion, is, in the mainf groundless. In many poems there is more of truth, than in many histories and philosophic theories. The fictions of genius are often the vehicles of the sublimest verities ; and its flashes often open new regions of thought, and throw new light on the mysteries of our being. In poetry, the letter is falsehood, but the spirit is often pro- foundest wisdom. And if truth thus dwells in the boldest fictions of the poet, much more may it be expected in his delineations of life ; for the present life, which is the first stage of the immortal mind, abounds in the materials of poetry; and it is the high ofiice of the bard to detect this divine element among the grosser labors and pleasures of our earthly being. The present life is not wholly prosaic, tame, and finite. To the gifted eye, it abounds in the poetic. The afl^ections which spread beyond our- selves and stretch far into futurity ; the workings of mighty passions, which seem to arm the soul with an almost superhuman energy ; the innocent and ir- repressible joy of infancy ; the bloom, and buoyancy and dazzling hopes of youth ; the throbbings of the heart, when it first wakes to love, and dreams of a happiness too vast for earth; woman, with her beauty, and grace, and gentleness, and fulness of feeling, and depth of affection, and her blushes of purity, and the tones and looks which only a mother's heart can inspire ; — these are aU poetical. It is not true that the poet paints a life which does not exist. He only extracts and concentrates, as it were, life's ethereal essence, arrests and condenses its volatile fragrance, brings together its scattered beauties, and prolongs its more refined but evanescent joys ; and in tliis he does well ; for it is good to feel that life is not wholly usurped by cares for subsistence, and physical gratifications, but admits, in measures which may be indefinitely enlarged, sentiments and delights worthy of a higher being. EXTRACT XXV. 203 EXTRACT XXV. Permanence of Literary Monuments. James Montgomery. An eloquent but extravagant writer lias hazarded the assertion, that " words are the only things that last forever." Nor is this merely a splendid saying, or a startling paradox, that may be qualified by ex- planation into common-place ; but, with respect to man and his works on earth, it is literally true. Temples and palaces, amphitheatres and catacombs, monuments of power, and magnificence, and skill, to perpetuate the memory and preserve even the ashes of those who lived in past ages, must, in the revolu- tions of earthly events, not only perish, themselves, by violence or decay, but the very dust in w^hich they perished be so scattered, as to leave no trace of their material existence behind. There is no security, beyond the passing moment, for the most permanent or the most precious of these ; they are as much in jeopardy as ever, after having escaped the changes and chances of thousands of years. An earthquake may suddenly ingulf the pyramids of Egypt, and leave the sand of the desert as blank as the tide would have left it on the sea-shore. A hammer, in the hand of an idiot, may break to pieces the Apollo Belvidere or the Venus de Medici, which are scarce- ly less worshipped, as miracles of art, in our day, than they were by idolaters of old, as representatives of deities. Looking abroad over the whole world, after the lapse of nearly six thousand years, what have we of the past but the words in which its history is record- ed? What beside a few mouldering and brittle ruins, which time is imperceptibly touching into dust ? What, beside these, remains of the glory, the 204 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. grandeur, the intelligence, the supremacy of the Gre- cian republics, or the empire of Home? Nothing but the \vords of poets, liistorians, philosophers, and orators, w^ho, being dead, yet speak, and, in their im- mortal works, still maintain their ascendency over inferior minds, through all posterity. And these in- tellectual sovereigns not only " rule our spirits from their urns," by the power of their thoughts, but their very voices are heard by our living ears, in the ac- cents of their mother tongues. The beauty, the elo- quence, and art of these collocations of sounds and syllables, the learned alone can appreciate, and that only (in some cases) after long, intense, and labori- ous investigation. But, as thought can be made to transmigrate from one body of words into another, even through all the languages of the earth, without losing what may be called its personal identity, the great minds of antiquity continue to hold their as- cendency over the opinions, and manners, characters, institutions, and events of all ages and nations, through which their posthumous compositions have found way, and been made the earliest subjects of study, the highest standards of morals, and the most perfect examples of taste, to the master minds in every state of civilized society. In this respect, the words of inspired prophets and apostles among the Jews, and those of gifted writers among the ancient Gentiles, may truly be said to "last forever." EXTRACT XXVI. Circumstances under which Milton wrote Paradise Lost, and the Sonnets. Macaulay. Milton had survived his health and his sight, the comforts of his home and the prosperity of his party. EXTRACT XXVI. 205 Of the great men by whom he had been distinguish- ed at his entrance into hfe, some had been taken away from the evil to come ; some had carried into foreign chmates their unconquerable hatred of op- pression ; some were pining in dungeons ; and some had poured forth their blood on scaffolds. That hate- ful proscription, facetiously termed the Act of In- demnity and Oblivion, had set a mark on the poor, blind, deserted poet, and held him up by name to the hatred of a profligate court and an inconstant people. Venal and licentious scribblers, with just sufficient talent to clothe the thoughts of a pander in the style of a bellman, were now the favorite writers of the Sovereign and the pubhc. It was a loath- some herd, which could be compared to nothing so fitly as to the rabble of Comus. Amidst these his Muse was placed, like the chaste lady of the Masque, lofty, spotless, and serene ; — to be chattered at, and pointed at, and grinned at, by the whole rabble of satyrs and goblins. ]jf ever despondency and asperity, could be excused in any man, it might have been excused in Milton. But the strength of his mind overcame every calam- ity. Neither blindness, nor gout, nor age, nor pen- ury, nor domestic afflictions, nor political disappoint- ments, nor abuse, nor proscription, nor neglect, had power to disturb his sedate and majestic patience. His spirits do not seem to have been high, but they were pecuharly equable. His temper was serious, perhaps stern ; but it was a temper which no suffer- ings could render sullen or fretful. Such as it was, when, on the eve of great events, he returned from liis travels, in the prime of health and manly beauty, loaded with literary distinctions, and glowing with patriotic hopes, — such it continued to be, when, after having experienced every calamity which is incident to our nature, old, poor, sightless, and dis- graced, he retired to his hovel to die. 18 206 SUBJECTS FOR EXERCISES. Hence it was, that, though, he wrote the Paradise Lost at a time of hfe when images of beauty and tenderness are in general beginning to fade, even from those minds in which they have not been ef- faced by anxiety and disappointment, he adorned it with all that is most lovely. Neither Theocritus nor Ariosto had a finer or a more healthful sense of the pleasantness of external objects, or loved better to luxuriate amidst sunbeams and flowers, the songs of nightingales, the juice of summer fruits, and the coolness of shady fountains. His poetry reminds us of the miracles of Alpine scenery. Nooks and dells, beautiful as fairy land, are embosomed in its most rugged and gigantic elevations. The roses and myrtles bloom unchilled on the verge of the ava- lanche. Traces, indeed, of the peculiar character of Milton may be found in all his works ; but it is most strong- ly displayed in the Sonnets. Those remarkable poems have been undervalued by critics who have not understood their nature. They have no epi- grammatic point. They are simple but majestic re- cords of the feelings of the poet ; as little tricked out for the public eye as his diary would have been. A victory, an unexpected attack upon the city, a mo- mentary fit of depression or exultation, a jest thrown out against one of his books, a dream, which, for a short time restored to him that beautiful face over which the grave had closed forever, led him to mus- ings which, without eflbrt, shaped themselves into verse. The Sonnets are more or less striking, according as the occasions which gave birth to them are more or less interesting. But they are, almost without exception, dignified by a sobriety and greatness of mind to which we know not where to look for a parallel. It would indeed be scarcely safe to draw any decided inferences as to the character of a EXTRACT XXIV. 207 writer, from passages directly egotistical. But the qualities which we have ascribed to Milton, though perhaps most strongly marked in those parts of liis works which treat of his personal feehngs, are dis- tinguishable in every page, and impart to all his writings, prose and poetry, Enghsh, Latin, and Ita- Han, a strong family hkeness. His public conduct was such as was to be expect- ed from a man of a spirit so high, and an intellect so powerful. He hved at one of the most memorable eras in the history of mankind ; at a very crisis of the great conflict between Oromasdes and Arimanes — hberty and despotism, reason and prejudice. That great battle was fought for no single generation, for no single land. The destinies of the human race were staked on the same cast with the freedom of the English people. Then were first proclaimed those mighty principles which have since worked their way into the depths of the American forests, which have roused Greece from the slavery and de- gradation of two thousand years, and which, from one end of Europe to the other, have kindled an un- quenchable fire in the hearts of the oppressed, and loosed the knees of the oppressors with a strange and unwonted fear I APPENDIX. ORAL LESSONS.* Introductory Explanations^ designed for Pupils sufficiently advanced for the study of Grammar. Lesson I. — Language. {Question, by the Teacher.] How many of this class have seen a menagerie ? [Tlie Pupils who have, raise the hand.] Question. What is a menagerie 1 Answer. A collection of animals. — Q. Who have seen an ourang outang 1 What doest it resemble 1 [Referring to a picture, if necessary.] A. A man or a boy. — Q. Was the one you saw quite like a man 1 A. No : his feet were like hands. — Q. What things did he do, that made him resem- * At the request of teachers who have expressed a wish to in- troduce the study of words, as an exercise in practical grammar, for their younger classes, examples of introductory oral instruc- tion are inserted in the appendix. The first series of these oral lessons, is intended for pupils of the grade mentioned above, and the second for those at an earlier age, but capable of being intel- ligently employed on elementary exercises on words. These ex- amples are, of course, nothing more than suggestive outlines, which teachers may modify according to the wants of their pupils. But introductory oral instruction, in some form, is indispensable, to prevent the performance of exercises from becoming mere parts of a mechanical routine, and to ensure their being executed with an intelligent interest. (209) 18* 210 APPENDIX. ble a man, more than any other animal does ? A. He stood up, and walked on two feet. — Q. What does a man do that the ourang outang can not do ? A. He speaks. — Q. What other words do we sometimes use, when we mean speaJcing ? A. Speech, language. — Q. What is the use of language ? A. To tell what we think. — What other word do we sometimes use, when we mean thinking ? A. Thought. — Q. May we not say, then, that language expresses thought ? Lesson II. — Thoughts, — Ideas. Q. What does language express ? A. Thought. — Q. What is a thought 1 A. Something in our mind. — Q. Is it one thing, or more than one thing 1 A. Sometimes one, sometimes more. Q. When I am lying awake, in a cold winter night, and hear something soft falling, all the while, on the window-panes, and I think it is not hail, because it does not make a rattling sound, and I think it is not rain because it does not sound like that, what do I think ? A. You think it is snow. — Q. I might say, then, to any one who happened to be near, " I think snow is falling"; or, if I felt sure of it, I might say, " Snow is falling." What is in my mind then, — what is my thought? A. You tWlnk that snow is falling. — Q. How many things are in my mind then ? A. Two, — snow and falling. — Q. Are there not more? Think again, — "snow falling," "falling snow." This is not all that I said, when I told somebody, " Snow is falling." What is the use of " is," here ? A. It tells that snow is falling. — Q, Yes ; if I only say, " Snow falling," or " falling snow," I do not tell anything. When I think, then, that snow is falling, are there not three things in my mind, snow and falling, and that I think it is falling? To make the whole thought, then, how many things must we have in the mind? A. Three. — Q. If I say, " Rain is falling," — how many ? — " Wind is blowing ? " — " Morning is dawning ? " — " Clouds arc passing ? " — A. Three. — Q. A whole thought, then, is made up of how many parts ? A. Three. — Q. Do you know a name for these parts ? A. No. — Q. When there is but one thing, or one part of a whole ORAL LESSONS. 211 thought, in the mind, we call it an idea. So, when I think that snow is falling, I have an idea of snow^ an idea oi falling^ and an idea that it is falling ; and these three ideas make the whole thought. How many ideas are there in each of these thoughts, Rain is falling, — Wind is blowing, — Morning is breaking, — Clouds are passing ? A. Three. — Q. Can you mention them 1 A. In the thought. Rain is falling, etc. [as above.] — Q. Do you observe that, in every one of these thoughts, there is some- thing that we are thinking of, — something that we think about what we are thinking of, and something that tells that we do think thus about it ? In the thought. Snow is falling, what are we think- ing off A. Snow. — Q. "What do we think about it. A. That it is falling. — Q, What shows that we do think thus about it 1 A. We say it is falling. Lesson III. — Propositions, — their parts. Q. What did you say is the use of language ? A. To ex- press our thoughts. — Q. If we wish to understand and study language, then, what must we do ? A. Understand our thoughts. — Q. How may we learn to understand our thoughts ? How do we learn to know flowers ? A. By examining them. — Q. Can we examine our thoughts 1: A. We cannot see them ; but we can think about them. — Q. Do you wish to know what we call a thought, when we are examining it 7 We call it a '' pro- position.''' Can you tell me what the word proposition means ? It means placed before, — something placed before the mind. What name then may I give to this thought. Snow is falling 'i A. A proposition. — Q. To this 1 Rain is falling. To these ? Trees are growing. Flowers are blooming. Birds are singing. Boys are playing. Summer is warm. Winter is cold. James is read- ing. John is listening. — Q. Can you give other examples of propositions 1 Can you find any in your reading-book ? Q. When we wish to speak about the different parts of our thoughts, it would be convenient, — would it not 1 — to have names for all of them 1 Thus, instead of saying about one of the ideas in a thought, that it is what we are thinking of, would it 212 APPENDIX. not be more convenient to name it by one word ? "Would you like then to know the name we give ^to the idea which we are thinking of'? We call it the " subject,^' because it is the subject of our thought. What name do we give to what we are thinking of? A. The subject. Q. Can you tell me the subject in these propositions, Snow is falling, Rain is falling, etc., [with addition- al examples.] A. Snow, rain, etc. — Q. Would you like to know the name which we give to the idea that we have about the subject of our thought? We call it the predicate, because it pre- dicates, or tells, what we think about the subject. Can you men- tion now the predicate in each of these propositions, Snow is falling, [etc.] ? A. " Falling," " blowing," [etc.] — Q. Can you mention the predicate in these propositions ? [additional exam- ples.] A. [accordingly.] — Q. Would you like to know the name which we give to the fact that we do form of the subject the idea in the predicate ? Because it connects the predicate with the subject, we call it the " copula,''^ or connective. Can you mention the copula in each of these propositions, Snow is fall- ing, etc. ? A. " 7s," — in all of them. — Q. In these proposi- tions ? [additional examples.] A. [accordingly.] Lesson IV. — Sentences. Q. If we express a thought or proposition in words, thus, [writing, on the blackboard, the words, " Rain is falling,"] we may call it by yet another name. What is that name 1 A. A sentence. — Q. The word sentence means thought, and hence is used as the grammatical name for a thought, or proposition, ex- pressed in words. What is the grammatical name for a proposi- tion 1 A. A sentence. — Q. How many ideas are necessary to make a complete thought. A. Three. — Q. What are their lo- gical names ? A. Subject, predicate, copula. — Q. Can you give an example ? A. " Rain is falling." — Q. Can you tell which of these words [pointing to the sentence written on the board,] represents the subject, which the predicate, and which the copula ? A. [accordingly.] — Q. [After writing, on the board, the sentence, " Rain falls,"] What is the subject of this proposi- ORAL LESSONS. 213 tion ? A. Eain. — Q. What is the predicate ? A. Tails. — Q. Where is the copula 1 — A. There is none. — Q. Is there nothing to take its place 1 Is there any difference between the propositions, Rain is falling, and Rain falls ? May I not say either, speaking of the weather, when it rains 1 But if I should say " Rain fall," or write these words thus, [writing the words, " Bain fall"] on the blackboard, would they make sense 1 — would they make a thought 1 — a proposition ? — a sentence ? Should I tell anything then ? Now, when I say or write, " Rain falls," do not the words make sense — make a proposition 1 — Do not they tell something 1 — make a sentence 1 Do you observe, then, that when we add s to "fall,'^ it makes the sense the same with is fall- ing ? What part of a proposition, then, does s stand for ? A. The copula. — Q. Can you show this by the other examples which we have had "? A. [accordingly.] — Q. Can you give other examples ? A. [accordingly.] — Q. Instead of three parts, therefore, what smaller number of parts may a proposition have 1 A. Two. — What are these 1 A. Subject and predicate. — Q. Can you give examples of such propositions 1 A. [accordingly.] Q. What did you say is the grammatical name of a proposi- tion 1 A. A sentence. — Q. Shall I tell you, now, the gram- matical name for the subject of a proposition 1 It is called, some- times, the " subject ; " because it is the subject about which the other words in a sentence tell us something. But there is an- other name for it, which belongs to grammar only, — the " nomi- native^^'' or name, because it is the name of the subject of the pro- position, or the word which stands for it. Can you tell me now the nominative in all the sentences which we have been attending to 1 A. [accordingly.] — Q. Can you give other examples ? A. [accordingly.] Q. Is the copula of a proposition always expressed separate- ly "? Do you remember an example of a proposition in which it is expressed ? — of one in which it is not expressed ? A. [ac- cordingly.] — Q. In grammar, it is not taken notice of separate- ly, but is considered as belonging to the predicate and forming a part of it, as you observed when we added s to ^^fall" in the sen- tence, " Rain falls." What is the remaining part, then, of a pro- 214 APPENDIX. position that we must attend to, if we wish to know all its parts grammatically'? A. The predicate. — Q. Shall I tell you now its grammatical name 1 It is called the " vei-b" or word, because it is the important word in a sentence ; since, without it, we could not have a proposition, or a thought, expressed, and therefore could not have a sentence. Can you tell me the verb in every one of the sentences which we have attended to ? A. [accord- ingly.] — Q. Can you give other examples ? A. [accordingly.] Lesson V. — Clauses. Q. [After writing, on the blackboard, the sentence, " Heavy rain already falls, thick and fast, from the clouds."] Into how many parts do the commas divide this sentence ? A. Three. — Q, Shall I tell you the grammatical name for these parts ? They are called " clauses,'" or enclosures, because they are en- closed by the commas. Can you tell me how many clauses there are in this sentence, written on the board ? — " Heavy rain al- ready falls, thick and fast, from the clouds ; and the wind blows hard." A. Four. — Q. From what point does a fourth clause commence 1 A. The semicolon. — Q. [After writing the sen- tence, " Heavy rain already falls, thick and fast, from the clouds ; and the wind blows hard : it will be a stormy night."] How many clauses are there in this sentence 1 A. Pive. — Q. From what point does the fifth clause commence ? A. The colon. — Q. [After writing the sentence, " Heavy rain already falls, thick and fast, from the clouds ; and the wind blows hard : it will be a stormy night ; and I fear that our friends will be anxious about us, unless we set out at once, and drive rapidly."] How many clauses are there in this sentence ? A. Eight. — Q. What points enclose the parts of this sentence 1 A. Commas, semicolons, a colon, and a period. — Q. Can you explain to me what a clause is ? A. It is a part of a sentence separated from the rest by one or two points. — Q. Can you show me, from your reading-book, examples of sentences which have but one clause ? — two — three — four — five — six — or more ? A. [accordingly.] ORAL LESSONS. 215 Lesson VI. — Phrases. Q. [After writing on the board the sentence, " Heavy rain al- ready falls, thick and fast, from the clouds."] How many clauses did you say there are in this sentence 1 A. Three. — Q. Can you divide these clauses themselves 1 Try, by reading the sen- tence slowly and carefully, and watching whether you make any pauses, besides those which you make at the points. A. We\ pause a little at " Heavy rain," before we read " already falls."' — Q. And does not that pause seem to join the two words, " Heavy rain," and the two words, " already falls V Why may we not pause after " Heavy " and after " already " 1 A. Because " Heavy " belongs to " rain," and " already " to " falls." — Q. Why may we not omit a pause between " rain " and " already," and join them to one another ? A. Because they do not belong to one another. — Q. Would it make sense, if we should pause after " Heavy " and " already," and make no pause between " rain " and " already " 1 A. No. — Q. Then, in reading, we must join those words of a sentence which are joined in sense, and separate those which are separated in sense, — must we 1 What did we call those clusters of words which are enclosed by points ? A. Clauses. — Q. Shall I tell you, now, the name of those little clusters, or groups, (as we sometimes call them,) of words which belong to one another, in sense, and are smaller than clauses, and therefore have no points to enclose them "? We call them " phrases,''^ or sayings, because, although they do not, like a whole sentence, tell, or affirm, something, they say some- thing. Can you show me phrases from any page of your read- ing-book? A. [accordingly.] — Q. When you compare clauses with phrases, what would you say of clauses ? Are they any- thing more than longer phrases 1 Let us see. Is there any pause to be made in the clause " from the clouds," in the sentence we have been studying 1 A. No. — Q. Is it not a phrase then ? A. Yes. — Q. Why 1 A. Because all the words are joined in the sense, and must be joined in reading. — Q. Some phrases then, may have more than two words ? A. Yes ; this one has 216 APPENDIX. three. — Q. Do you see any other phrase, in this sentence, which is both a clause and a phrase ? A. Yes ; " thick and fast." — Q. What shall we say, then, that a phrase is 1 A. As many words, or as few, as are closely joined in sense, whether they make a clause or not. — Q. Can you show me, from your read- ing-book, phrases of three, four, or five words 1 A. [accordingly.] Lesson VII. — Words, Syllables, Letters. Q. We have been dividing sentences into clauses and phrases. Can we find any smaller part still than a phrase 1 What are phrases made of? A. Words. — Q. And what are words made of ? A. Syllables. — Q. " Syllables " means taken together, or grouped. Can you show me examples of syllables ? A. [accord- ingly.] — Q. Do you remember that phrases are made up of groups of words'? What should you then say syllables are made ofl A. Groups of letters. — Q. Is there any smaller part of a sylla- ble than a letter ? A. No. — Q. Can you tell me now what is the smallest part of a sentence 1 A. A letter. Q. What branch of education do we call that which teaches us about sentences, words, syllables, and letters? A. Grammar. — Q. Do you know any one word which we can use, when we mean to express what grammar teaches us. We say arithmetic teaches us about number, geography teaches us about the earth, astronomy teaches us about the stars, and grammar teaches us about what ? A. Language. — Q. And language is made up of what ? A. Sentences, words, syllables, and letters. — Q. Letters, then, are the smallest part of language. If we wish to study language, then, what must we begin with, if we wish to take up the small- i est and easiest part 1 A. Letters. — Q. What is this 1 [Making ; a short perpendicular line on the blackboard.] A. A mark. — Q. What is it now ? [Drawing a short hair-line across the head and foot of the line.] A. It is the letter I.— Q. A letter, then, is a mark, — a mark for what 1 A. A sound of the voice. — Q. Of what kind, — a musical, or a speaking sound 1 A. A speak- ing sound. — Q. How many letters belong to our language ? A. Twenty-six. ORAL LESSONS. 217 Lesson VIII. — Oethoepy. Q. If there are twenty-six letters in our alphabet, and every letter is the mark for a sound of the voice, how many different sounds must there be in our language ? A. Twenty-six. — Q. But some of our letters have several different sounds. How do we sound " a " in the word " all " ? — in the word " arm " — in the word " and " — in the word " ale " — in the word " air " ? A. [accordingly.] — Q. [After exemplifying the various sounds of all the letters of the alphabet.] You observe, then, that, al- though we have, in our alphabet, but twenty-six letters, we have about forty different sounds represented by them. Now, as all the syllables and words of our language are made up from these forty or more sounds, what must we know, in order to read or speak our language rightly ? A. "We must know these sounds, and how to put them together. — Q. Do you wish to know what that part of grammar is called which teaches us about these sounds ? It is called " orthoepy,''' which means correct speech or pronunciation. What do we call the part of grammar which teaches us to pronounce correctly ? A. Orthoepy. — Q. How does grammar teach us this branch of language 1 It gives us certain rules in our grammar book. But does it not lead us to make use of other books ? What do we learn from the primer, the spelling-book, the dictionary 'i A. How to spell words, and how to pronounce them, and what their meaning is. — Q. Yes ; grammar is meant to teach us everything about language, even to our letters ; and the primer, the spelling-book, and the dictionary, are all grammar books, because they all teach us to understand and use the words of our language rightly. When I am talking, how do my words enter into your minds ? Could you under- stand them, if you were deaf? You receive them into your mind, by what ? A. By the ear. — Q. When I write words on the blackboard, or when you read them in a book, how do you receive them into your mind, — by what ? A. By the eye. — Q. What kind of language do we call that in which words come from the voice to the ear ? A. Speech, — spoken language. — 19 218 APPENDIX. Q. What do we call that which comes from letters to the eye ? — A. Writing, — written language, — printing. — Q. Which kind of language does orthoepy teach us? A. Spoken lan- guage. Lesson IX. — Orthogeaphy. Q. How is spoken language changed into written language ? Letters, you said, are marks for speaking sounds or speech. How, then, may we communicate, by language, with persons who are at a great distance from us, — in another part of the world perhaps, — or how may our words be brought to the minds of people after we are dead ? A. By writing or printing. — Q. What is writing or printing ? — A. Making marks for the sounds which we should make if we were speaking. When people read these marks, they will know our words, and understand our mean- ing. — Q. What kind of language do we call this ? A. Writ- ten language. — Q. Can you tell me the name of the part of, grammar which teaches us written language 1 A. Orthography. -^ Q. " Orthography " means correct writing, — the correct writ- ing of language, — not the penmanship, but what 1 A. Spelling. — Q. What do we learn, then, from this part of grammar ? A. To put the proper letters and syllables into words, when we write them. — Q. What means does grammar use to teach us this part of language ? How are we taught to spell correctly ? A. By the words given us in the primer, the spelling-book, and the dic- tionary, and by rules in the grammar book itself. — Q. Now you will understand why the science of language is called " grammar" The word " grammar" signifies turiting ; and, as it requires more knowledge of language to write it correctly, than to speak it, the part of language which requires most scientific knowledge, the written part, — is that which we are supposed to be chiefly study- ing, when we are learning language. Hence it is called grammar. — Why is grammar so called ? A. Because it is meant princi- pally to teach written language. I Note. — The exercises prescribed in this manual, for young pu- pils, are designed, chiefly, for practice in the first stages of gram- ORAL LESSONS. 219 mar, — orthoepy, orthography, and etymology so far only as re- gards derivation. The examples of explanatory oral instruction, are accordingly limited to these branches, and are carried no far- ther, in these, than is necessary for the intelligent performance of the exercises. Introductory Explanations^ designed for very young PupihM Lesson I. — Grammar. Questions, by the Teacher. How many of this class know what botany is. What does it teach us ? Answer, by the Pupils.^ About flowers. — Q. Yes ; and about trees, and shrubs, and vegetables, and weeds. By what one word may we call all these? A. Plants. — Q. How many know what astronomy is ? What does it teach us ? A. About the stars. — Q. If I were going to teach you botany, what must I do ? A. Give us books with pictures that would tell us all about flowers. — Q. Might I not rather bring some flowers, and show them to you, so that you might see all their parts, and be able to describe them yourselves, and then hear what more I could tell you about them, and what the books would tell you 1 A. That would be best. — Q. If I were going to teach you astronomy, what must 1 do 1 A. Give us books * A useful and interesting course of elementary lessons and exercises on words, may be advantageously commenced, long be- fore pupils have attained the age at which it would be advisable to propose systematic lessons from any treatise on grammar. Children at the age of six or seven years, may, — if the author of this manual may judge from repeated experience,— be easily led to take an interest as earnest and as intelligent in the study of words, as in that of the most attractive specimens in natural his- t In the earliest stages of instruction, there is no impropriety in the answer to a question being given by the teacher, when it can- not be obtained from the pupils themselves. It is preferable, how- ever, to vary the form of a question, and even to put leading ques- tions, if the subject is at all accessible to the pupil's own mind. 220 APPENDIX. Ml of figures, and pictures of the stars. — Q. Should you not understand better, if I should have you come to me, on clear even- ings, and have you look at the stars, while I pointed them out to you, and told you what I knew about them? A. Yes. — Q. Should you not then understand the figures and pictures in your books much better ? A. Yes. Q. How many of this class know what grammar is ? What do we learn when we study grammar ? A. How to talk right, — how to write letters, — how to write compositions. — Q. Yes ; how to speak and write correctly. I once heard a little boy say, " The cars is comin'." Was that speaking correctly ? A. No. — Q. What should he have said ? A. " The cars are coming." — Q. Yes ; and when that boy has studied grammar, he will know why he should not say, " The cars is comin'," and why he should say, " The cars are coming." Lesson II. — Language. Q. You said grammar teaches us how to talk correctly and write correctly. Now, can any one tell me a word which I may use correctly, if I mean either speaking or writing, and that will do for the one just as well as for the other? A. No. — Q. Well, if you cannot tell me one, let me tell you one. [The teacher writes or prints, on the blackboard, " Grammar teaches us to speak and write correctly."] — What have I done ? A. You have written, " Grammar teaches us to speak and write correctly." — Q. [After uttering the words, " Grammar teaches us to speak and write cor- rectly."] What have I done now ? A. You have said, " Gram- mar teaches us to speak and write correctly." — Q. [Pointing to the blackboard.] You call this written what ? A. Written words. — Q. What do you call this ? [Repeating the words orally.] A. Spoken words. — Q. Should you understand me, if I called this, [pointing to the words on the blackboard,] written language, and this, [repeating the words, orally,] spoken language ? A. Yes. — Q. Should you understand me, then, if I said, " Grammar teaches us to use language correctly," or, " the correct use of language ? " A. Yes. — Q. Now can you tell me what ORAL LESSONS. 221 word means the same thing as spoken words or written words 1 A. Language. Lesson IIL — Words. Q. If I am to teach you grammar, or the correct use of lan- guage, what must I do ? Can I give you anything to handle and I examine, as I would hand you a flower, if I were going to teach you botany ? Can I show you language, in any way % A. You can show us words. — Q. How 1 A. You can speak words ; and we shall hear them. — Q. Can I show you words in any other way "? A. You can write words on the blackboard for us to see. — Q. Can I show you words in any other way 1 A. You can show them to us in books. — Q. [Showing a book.] What is this 1 A. A book. — Q. [Showing a page of a music-book.] What do you see in this book 1 A. Marks for singing, — notes. — Q. [Showing a page of a reading-book.] What do you see in this book 1 A. Words. — Q. Some of you said the music-book has marks for singing. What may we say the reading-book has ? A. Marks for reading. — Q. Can we look at these marks, and examine them, and so understand what they mean 1 A. Yes. — Q. When we look at a flower and examine it, so as to know every part of it, what are we studying 1 A. A flower. — Q* What science did you say teaches us about flowers ? A. Botany. — Q. May we say rightly, that, when we are studying a flower, we are learning botany ? A. Yes. — Q. When we are looking at a word, and are trying to understand and read it rightly, what are we studying 1 A. A word. — Q. What did you say we may call written or printed or spoken words? A. Language. — Q. What science teaches us about language 1 A. Grammar. — Q. When we are studying words, then, what are we learning ? A. Grammar. — Q. Why do we learn grammar 1 A. To be able to speak and write correctly. — Q. To speak and write what ? A. Words. — Q. To learn grammar, then, we must study what ? A. Words. 19* 222 APPENDIX. Lesson IV. — Compound Words. Q. If I were teaching you botany, and we were examining a flower, we would look carefully at every part of it. Can you tell me the names of some of the parts of a flower 1 A. Yes : the root, the stalk, the leaves, the blossom. — Q. Well, words have several parts which we can examine. [After writing, on the blackboard, the word sunshine.] How many parts has that word 1 A. Two, — sun and shine. — Q. How many parts has each of these words, — Moonshine, sunlight, moonlight, lamplight, schoolroom, pathway ? A. [accordingly.] — Q. Can you name some words of two parts like those which we have been dividing 1 A. [ac- cordingly.] — Q. Can you divide these words, — Uphold, uplift, sheep/old, vineyard, manful, highland, lowland, treetop, blackboard, goodnatured? A. [accordingly.] — Q. Into how many parts have you divided all these words? A. Into two. — Q. Can you divide these words into parts, — Foretopmast, gentlemanlike, foretopgallantsail ? A. [accordingly.] — Q. Into how many parts have you divided these ? A. Two into three, and one into four. — Q. Do the parts of these words all make words by themselves if we separate them from one another 1 A. Yes. — Q. Shall I tell you the name by which we call all words of this kind ? They are called " compound " words, because they are compounded, or made up of simple or single words. Can you tell me anything else, besides words, which is compounded, or made up, of single things'? What is this book compounded of? A. Paper and leather. — Q. What kind of book is it ? A. A spelling-book. — Q. What sort of word is spelling-book, — simple or compound ? A. Compound. — Q. Why ? A. Because it is compounded of spelling and book. — Q. [After writing on the blackboard the word treetop.] Have I divided this word into parts, or written it as one word ? A. As one word. — Q. [After writing the word spelling-book.] Have I written spellingbook as one word, or divided it into two? A. You have divided it into two.— Q. How? A. By that little mark.— -Q. Would you like to know its name ? We call it a " hyphen.'' Can you show, in any page of ORAL LESSONS. 223 your Reader, compound words divided by a hyphen ? A. [ac- cordingly.] — Q. How did you divide the compound word up- hold ? A, [accordingly.] — Q. What does uphold mean ? A. To hold up. — Q. Can you divide all the other words, and tell me their meanings ? A. [accordingly.] — Q. Do you observe that when we divide such words we see their meaning more plain- ly ? A part of the study of words then, you observe, is to di- vide compound words into the simple words of which they are made up, so as to understand the meaning of compound words more fully. Can you divide these compound words, and tell their meaning, — Milkman^ newsboy^ housemaid^ haystack, homestead, farmhouse, door-bell, fire-shovel, barn-yard, housetop, hillside, roof-tree, hellringer'? A. [accordingly.] « Lesson V. — Syllables. Q. You have divided compound words into parts according to their meaning. Can you think of any other way in which words may be divided 1 [After writing on the blackboard the word Speaker.'\ Can you read this word very slowly and distinct- ly ? A. [accordingly.] — Q. Into how many parts do you di- tide the word? A. Two. — Q. [After writing the word thus, on the blackboard, Spea-ker.] Have I written the word as you divided it, when you read it 1 No. — Q. [After writing the word thus, Speah-er^ Have I divided it rightly now 1 A. Yes. Q. You see, then, that we may divide spoken words by the voice, al- though they are not compound words, and that we may divide written words by the hyphen into the same parts which they would have, if they were spoken words. Now, can you tell me why we must divide this word speaker, by the voice, into two parts, one ending with k, and the other beginning with e ? A. The sounds seem to go so, themselves. — Q. Yes ; that is the easiest way to pronounce the word. Can you divide, in this way, these words, — Unkind, matily, goodness, delay, before, advance, return, unkindness, manliness, delaying, advancement, retreating, unmusical, recovery, in- gratitude, indiscreetly, imprudently, uninteresting, disinterested, un- generously, unintelligible, incomprehensible, incontiwertibly ? A. [ac- 224 APPENDIX. cordingly, naming the syllables successively.] Q. Into how many parts did you divide some of these words 1 A. Into two. — Q. Into how many did you divide the rest 1 A. Some into three, some into four, some into five, and some into six. — Q. How did you divide them ? — in what way ? A. The way the sounds seemed to go, themselves. — Q. Shall I tell you the name which we give to the parts of words, when we divide them so ? We call them " syllables.^^ What do we call the parts of words into which they seem to divide most easily for the voice ? A. Syllables. — Q. Can you show me examples, in your spel- ling-book, of words divided into two, — three, — four, — five, — and six syllables ? A. [accordingly.] 9 Lesson VI. — Letters. Q. What name did we give to the parts of words, when we divide them by the voice, or by a hyphen ? A. Syllables. — Q. Can we divide syllables themselves 1 When I speak the word " uphold," into what syllables do I divide it with my voice 1 A. Up and hold. — Q. How many sounds do I make when I say " «p " ? A. Two. — Q. What are they 1 A. [The sounds of the letters given.] — C^- When I say " hold,^^ how many sounds do I make ? A. Four. — Q. What are they 1 A. [The sounds of the letters given.] — Q. Spoken words, then, are divided into syllables, and syllables into what 1 A. Sounds. — Q. How are written words divided ? A. Into syllables. — Q. How 1 A. By hyphens. — Q. And how are syllables divided, in written words 'i A. Into letters. — Q. What are letters, in written words, meant for ? A. The sounds that we make in speaking the syllables. — Q. May we not say, then, that letters are marks for the sounds of the voice in reading and speaking ? A. Yes. — Q. Is there any part of spoken language smaller than a single sound of the voice "? A. No. — Q. Is there any part of written language smaller than a letter? A. No.— Q. What did you say was the name for the part of education that teaches us about language ? A. Grammar.— Q. When we begin to learn gram- mar, then, and begin with the simplest and easiest part of it, what ORAL LESSONS*. ' 225 V ♦ t shall we study ? A. Letters. — Q. What dp we^call the letters, of our language, wh^n >ve call them all b]^'one word ? A. The alphabet. — Q. You all know the names of the letters of the al- phabet. Can you tell me their sounds one by one? [Keview the elementary sounds of the language, throughout.] — Q. Why do we study the sounds of letters ? Can we pronounce the syl- lables of a word correctly if we give wrong sounds to the letters ? A. No. — Q. Can we pronounce words correctly if we do not give the syllables their proper sounds ? A. No. — Q. To read and to speak correctly, then, we must be able to give all the let- ters, in every word which we pronounce, their right sounds. How do we learn to give the sounds of letters correctly ? A. By spelling in the primer and the spelling-book, and, afterwards, by reading lessons in other books, and in the dictionary. — Q. How do we study written language ? A. By learning to write words with their proger letters. — Q. What do we call this 1 A. Spel- ling. — Q. How do we study written spelling ? A. By learning lessons in the primer, and the spelling-book, and in other books, and in the dictionary. — Q. How do we learn such lessons, in written language ? A. By writing or printing them. 15 U/iiotiD;sIrn J library, E S T A B £^I^E§g^JyppU^^ SCHOOL BOOKS, PUBLISHED BY WHITTEMORE, NILES & HALL, 114: "Wasliington Street^ Boston* AND RUSSEIili'S PRIMARY SflRIES, viz t T; THE PRIMER ; or, First Book of Russell's Elementary Series of Reading Books. INTRODUCTION TO PRIMARY READER; or, Second Book of Russell's Series. PRIMARY READER; or, Third Book of Russell's Series. SEQUEL TO PRIMARY READER; or, Fourth Book of Russell's Series. RUSSELL'S SPELLING BOOK. A Course of Lessons in Reading and Spelling, to accompany Russell's Series ofj Readers. RUSSELL'S NEW SPELLING BOOK. INTRODUCTION TO AMERICAN -SCHOOL READER. Designed to precede the American School Reader. By Wm. Russell and John Goldsbury. AMERICAN SCHOOL READER AND SPEAKER. A Se- lection of Prose and Verse, with Rules for Reading and Speaking. By Goldsbury and Russell. To persons unacquainted with the peculiar character of these books the publishers would oflfer them as possessing the following prominent advantages. They are entirely free from matter frivo- lous or low in character. Committees and teachers speak in the highest terms of the superior tone of intellectual and moral influence which they produce. They are so planned as to secure the advan- tage of a complete progressive course of instruction in the art of read- ing. Pupils trained on the series, throughout, become accom- plished and impressive readers. The spelling book of this series is arranged on a plan distinct and original, presenting — 1st, a selection of such words as child- ren understand and use ; 2d, of such as they do not themselves use, but which they undersliand when they read them, or when they hear them used by othei» : 3d, oj^ words winch childfen rteed to have ex- plained to them, and^iydh they can not fuU^'iifiderstand or rightly use without such aid.