In Brenan's _Composition and Punctuation_, published by Wilson, Royal
Exchange, he strongly condemns _the one_ and _the other_, as used for _the
former_ and _the latter_, or _the first_ and _the last_. The understood
rule is, that _the one_ refers to the nearest or _latter_ person or thing
mentioned, and _the other_ to the farthest or _former_; and if that were
strictly adhered to, no objection could be raised. But I have found, from
careful observation for two or three years past, that some of our standard
writers reverse the rule, and use _the one_ for _the former_, and _the
other_ for _the latter_, by which I have often been completely puzzled to
know what they meant in cases of importance. Now, since there is not the
slightest chance of unanimity here, I think the author is right in
condemning their referential usage altogether. A French grammarian says,
"Ce qui n'est pas clair n'est pas Français;" but though French is far from
having no ambiguities, he showed that he fully appreciated what ought to be
the proudest boast of any language, clearness. There is a notable want of
it on the marble tablet under the portico of St. Paul's, Covent Gardens,
which says:
"The church of this parish having been destroyed by fire on the 17th
day of September, A.D. 1795, was rebuilt, and opened for divine service
on the 1st day of August, A.D. 1798."
The writer, no doubt, congratulated himself on avoiding the then common
error, in similar cases, of "_This_ church having," &c.; for that asserted,
that the very building we were looking at was burned down! But in eschewing
one manifest blunder, he fell into ambiguity, and inconclusiveness equally
reprehensible. For, as it never was imperative that a parish church should
be _always_ confined to a particular spot, we are left in doubt as to where
the former one stood; nor, indeed, are we told whether the present building
is the parish church. Better thus: "The church of this parish, _which stood
on the present site_, having," &c.
Even with this change another seems necessary, for we should then be
virtually informed, as we are now, that the church was rebuilt, and opened
for divine service, _in one day_![1] Such is the care requisite, when
attempting comprehensive brevity, for the simplest historical record
intended to go down to posterity. It is no answer to say, that every one
apprehends what the inscription means, for that would sanction all kinds of
obscurity and blunders. When Paddy tells us of _wooden_ panes of glass and
mile-stones; of dividing a thing into three halves; of backing a carriage
straight forwards, or of a dismal solitude where nothing could be heard but
silence, we all perfectly understand what he means, while we laugh at his
unconscious union of sheer impossibilities.