16. Language is either oral or written; the question of its origin has

consequently two parts. Having suggested what seemed necessary respecting

the origin of _speech_, I now proceed to that of _writing_. Sheridan says,

"We have in use _two kinds of language_, the spoken and the written: the

one, the gift of God; the other, the invention of man."--_Elocution_, p.

xiv. If this ascription of the two things to their sources, were as just as

it is clear and emphatical, both parts of our question would seem to be

resolved. But this great rhetorician either forgot his own doctrine, or did

not mean what he here says. For he afterwards makes the former kind of

language as much a work of art, as any one will suppose the latter to have

been. In his sixth lecture, he comments on the gift of speech thus: "But

still we are to observe, that nature did no more than furnish the power and

means; _she did not give the language_, as in the case of the passions, but

left it to the industry of men, to find out and agree upon such articulate

sounds, as they should choose to make the symbols of their ideas."--_Ib._,

p. 147. He even goes farther, and supposes certain _tones of the voice_ to

be things invented by man: "Accordingly, as she did not furnish the

_words_, which were to be the symbols of his ideas; neither did she furnish

the _tones_, which were to manifest, and communicate by their own virtue,

the internal exertions and emotions, of such of his nobler faculties, as

chiefly distinguish him from the brute species; but left them also, like

words, to the care and invention of man."--_Ibidem_. On this branch of the

subject, enough has already been presented.

17. By most authors, alphabetic writing is not only considered an

artificial invention, but supposed to have been wholly unknown in the early

ages of the world. Its antiquity, however, is great. Of this art, in which

the science of grammar originated, we are not able to trace the

commencement. Different nations have claimed the honour of the invention;

and it is not decided, among the learned, to whom, or to what country, it

belongs. It probably originated in Egypt. For, "The Egyptians," it is said,

"paid divine honours to the Inventor of Letters, whom they called _Theuth_:

and Socrates, when he speaks of him, considers him as a god, or a god-like

man."--_British Gram._, p. 32. Charles Bucke has it, "That the first

inventor of letters is supposed to have been _Memnon_; who was, in

consequence, fabled to be the son of Aurora, goddess of the

morning."--_Bucke's Classical Gram._, p. 5. The ancients in general seem to

have thought Phoenicia the birthplace of Letters:

"Phoenicians first, if ancient fame be true,

The sacred mystery of letters knew;

They first, by sound, in various lines design'd,

Express'd the meaning of the thinking mind;

The power of words by figures rude conveyed,

And useful science everlasting made."

_Rowe's Lucan_, B. iii, l. 334.

18. Some, however, seem willing to think writing coeval with speech. Thus

Bicknell, from Martin's Physico-Grammatical Essay: "We are told by Moses,

that Adam _gave names to every living creature_;[23] but how those names

were written, or what sort of characters he made use of, is not known to

us; nor indeed whether Adam ever made use of a written language at all;

since we find no mention made of any in the sacred history."--_Bicknell's

Gram._, Part ii, p. 5. A certain late writer on English grammar, with

admirable flippancy, cuts this matter short, as follows,--satisfying

himself with pronouncing all speech to be natural, and all writing

artificial: "Of how many primary kinds is language? It is of two kinds;

natural or spoken, and artificial or written."--_Oliver B. Peirce's Gram._,

p. 15. "Natural language is, to a limited extent, (the representation of

the passions,) common to brutes as well as man; but artificial language,

being the work of invention, is peculiar to man."--_Ib._, p. 16.[24]

19. The writings delivered to the Israelites by Moses, are more ancient

than any others now known. In the thirty-first chapter of Exodus, it is

said, that God "gave unto Moses, upon Mount Sinai, two tables of testimony,

tables of stone, _written with the finger of God_." And again, in the

thirty-second: "The tables were the work of God, and the writing was _the

writing of God_, graven upon the tables." But these divine testimonies,

thus miraculously written, do not appear to have been the first writing;

for Moses had been previously commanded to write an account of the victory

over Amalek, "for a memorial in a book, and rehearse it in the ears of

Joshua."--_Exod._, xvii, 14. This first battle of the Israelites occurred

in Rephidim, a place on the east side of the western gulf of the Red Sea,

at or near Horeb, but before they came to Sinai, upon the top of which, (on

the fiftieth day after their departure from Egypt,) Moses received the ten

commandments of the law.

20. Some authors, however, among whom is Dr. Adam Clarke, suppose that in

this instance the order of the events is not to be inferred from the order

of the record, or that there is room to doubt whether the use of letters

was here intended; and that there consequently remains a strong

probability, that the sacred Decalogue, which God himself delivered to

Moses on Sinai, A. M. 2513, B. C. 1491, was "the first writing _in

alphabetical characters_ ever exhibited to the world." See _Clarke's

Succession of Sacred Literature_, Vol. i, p. 24. Dr. Scott, in his General

Preface to the Bible, seems likewise to favour the same opinion. "Indeed,"

says he, "there is some probability in the opinion, that the art of writing

was first communicated by revelation, to Moses, in order to perpetuate,

with certainty, those facts, truths, and laws, which he was employed to

deliver to Israel. Learned men find no traces of _literary_, or

alphabetical, writing, in the history of the nations, till long after the

days of Moses; unless the book of Job may be regarded as an exception. The

art of expressing almost an infinite variety of sounds, by the interchanges

of a few letters, or marks, seems more like a discovery to man from heaven,

than a human invention; and its beneficial effects, and almost absolute

necessity, for the preservation and communication of true religion, favour

the conjecture."--_Scott's Preface_, p. xiv.

21. The time at which Cadmus, the Phoenician, introduced this art into

Greece, cannot be precisely ascertained. There is no reason to believe it

was antecedent to the time of Moses; some chronologists make it between two

and three centuries later. Nor is it very probable, that Cadmus invented

the sixteen letters of which he is said to have made use. His whole story

is so wild a fable, that nothing certain can be inferred from it. Searching

in vain for his stolen sister--his sister Europa, carried off by

Jupiter--he found a wife in the daughter of Venus! Sowing the teeth of a

dragon, which had devoured his companions, he saw them spring up to his aid

a squadron of armed soldiers! In short, after a series of wonderful

achievements and bitter misfortunes, loaded with grief and infirm with age,

he prayed the gods to release him from the burden of such a life; and, in

pity from above, both he and his beloved Hermíonè were changed into

serpents! History, however, has made him generous amends, by ascribing to

him the invention of letters, and accounting him the worthy benefactor to

whom the world owes all the benefits derived from literature. I would not

willingly rob him of this honour. But I must confess, there is no feature

of the story, which I can conceive to give any countenance to his claim;

except that as the great progenitor of the race of authors, his sufferings

correspond well with the calamities of which that unfortunate generation

have always so largely partaken.

22. The benefits of this invention, if it may be considered an invention,

are certainly very great. In oral discourse the graces of elegance are more

lively and attractive, but well-written books are the grand instructors of

mankind, the most enduring monuments of human greatness, and the proudest

achievements of human intellect. "The chief glory of a nation," says Dr.

Johnson, "arises from its authors." Literature is important, because it is

subservient to all objects, even those of the very highest concern.

Religion and morality, liberty and government, fame and happiness, are

alike interested in the cause of letters. It was a saying of Pope Pius the

Second, that, "Common men should esteem learning as silver, noblemen value

it as gold, and princes prize it as jewels." The uses of learning are seen

in every thing that is not itself useless.[25] It cannot be overrated, but

where it is perverted; and whenever that occurs, the remedy is to be sought

by opposing learning to learning, till the truth is manifest, and that

which is reprehensible, is made to appear so.

23. I have said, learning cannot be overrated, but where it is perverted.

But men may differ in their notions of what learning is; and, consequently,

of what is, or is not, a perversion of it. And so far as this point may

have reference to theology, and the things of God, it would seem that the

Spirit of God alone can fully show us its bearings. If the illumination of

the Spirit is necessary to an understanding and a reception of scriptural

truth, is it not by an inference more erudite than reasonable, that some

great men have presumed to limit to a verbal medium the communications of

Him who is everywhere His own witness, and who still gives to His own holy

oracles all their peculiar significance and authority? Some seem to think

the Almighty has never given to men any notion of Himself, except by words.

"Many ideas," says the celebrated Edmund Burke, "have never been at all

presented to the senses of any men _but by words_, as God,[26] angels,

devils, heaven, and hell, all of which have however a great influence over

the passions."--_On the Sublime and [the] Beautiful_, p. 97. That God can

never reveal facts or truths except by words, is a position with which I am

by no means satisfied. Of the great truths of Christianity, Dr. Wayland, in

his Elements of Moral Science, repeatedly avers, "All these being _facts_,

can never be known, except _by language_, that is, by revelation."--_First

Edition_, p. 132. Again: "All of them being of the _nature of facts_, they

could be made known to man _in no other way than by language_."--_Ib._, p.

136. But it should be remembered, that these same facts were otherwise made

known to the prophets; (1 Pet., i, 11;) and that which has been done, is

not impossible, whether there is reason to expect it again or not. So of

the Bible, Calvin says, "No man can have the least knowledge of true and

sound doctrine, without having been a disciple of the Scripture."--

_Institutes_, B. i, Ch. 6. Had Adam, Abel, Enoch, Noah, and Abraham, then,

no such knowledge? And if such they had, what Scripture taught them? We

ought to value the Scriptures too highly to say of them any thing that is

_unscriptural_. I am, however, very far from supposing there is any _other

doctrine_ which can be safely substituted for the truths revealed of old,

the truths contained in the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments:

"Left only in those written records pure,

Though not but by the Spirit understood." [27]--_Milton_.

CHAPTER V.

OF THE POWER OF LANGUAGE.

"Quis huic studio literarum, quod profitentur ii, qui grammatici vocantur,

penitus se dedidit, quin omnem illarum artium pæne infinitam _vim_ et

_materiam_ scientiæ cogitatione comprehenderit?"--CICERO. _De Oratore_,

Lib. i, 3.

1. The peculiar _power_ of language is another point worthy of particular

consideration. The power of an instrument is virtually the power of him who

wields it; and, as language is used in common, by the wise and the foolish,

the mighty and the impotent, the candid and the crafty, the righteous and

the wicked, it may perhaps seem to the reader a difficult matter, to speak

intelligibly of its _peculiar power_. I mean, by this phrase, its fitness

or efficiency to or for the accomplishment of the purposes for which it is

used. As it is the nature of an agent, to be the doer of something, so it

is the nature of an instrument, to be that with which something is

effected. To make signs, is to do something, and, like all other actions,

necessarily implies an agent; so all signs, being things by means of which

other things are represented, are obviously the instruments of such

representation. Words, then, which represent thoughts, are things in

themselves; but, as signs, they are relative to other things, as being the

instruments of their communication or preservation. They are relative also

to him who utters them, as well as to those who may happen to be instructed

or deceived by them. "Was it Mirabeau, Mr. President, or what other master

of the human passions, who has told us that words are things? They are

indeed things, and things of mighty influence, not only in addresses to

the passions and high-wrought feelings of mankind, but in the discussion of

legal and political questions also; because a just conclusion is often

avoided, or a false one reached, by the adroit substitution of one phrase

or one word for an other."--_Daniel Webster, in Congress_, 1833.

2. To speak, is a moral action, the quality of which depends upon the

motive, and for which we are strictly accountable. "But I say unto you,

that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof

in the day of judgement; for by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by

thy words thou shalt be condemned."--_Matt._, xii, 36, 37. To listen, or to

refuse to listen, is a moral action also; and there is meaning in the

injunction, "Take heed what ye hear."--_Mark_, iv, 24. But why is it, that

so much of what is spoken or written, is spoken or written in vain? Is

language impotent? It is sometimes employed for purposes with respect to

which it is utterly so; and often they that use it, know not how

insignificant, absurd, or ill-meaning a thing they make of it. What is

said, with whatever inherent force or dignity, has neither power nor value

to him who does not understand it;[28] and, as Professor Duncan observes,

"No word can be to any man the sign of an idea, till that idea comes to

have a real existence in his mind."--_Logic_, p. 62. In instruction,

therefore, speech ought not to be regarded as the foundation or the essence

of knowledge, but as the sign of it; for knowledge has its origin in the

power of sensation, or reflection, or consciousness, and not in that of

recording or communicating thought. Dr. Spurzheim was not the first to

suggest, "It is time to abandon the immense error of supposing that words

and precepts are sufficient to call internal feelings and intellectual

faculties into active exercise."--_Spurzheim's Treatise on Education_, p.

94.

3. But to this it may be replied, When God wills, the signs of knowledge

are knowledge; and words, when he gives the ability to understand them,

may, in some sense, become--"spirit and life." See _John_, vi, 63. Where

competent intellectual faculties exist, the intelligible signs of thought

do move the mind to think; and to think sometimes with deep feelings too,

whether of assent or dissent, of admiration or contempt. So wonderful a

thing is a rational soul, that it is hard to say to what ends the language

in which it speaks, may, or may not, be sufficient. Let experience

determine. We are often unable to excite in others the sentiments which we

would: words succeed or fail, as they are received or resisted. But let a

scornful expression be addressed to a passionate man, will not the words

"call internal feelings" into action? And how do feelings differ from

thoughts?[29] Hear Dr. James Rush: "The human mind is the place of

representation of all the existences of nature which are brought within the

scope of the senses. The representatives are called ideas. These ideas are

the simple passive pictures of things, or [else] they exist with an

activity, capable of so affecting the physical organs as to induce us to

seek the continuance of that which produces them, or to avoid it. This

active or vivid class of ideas comprehends the passions. The functions of

the mind here described, exist then in different forms and degrees, from

the simple idea, to the highest energy of passion: and the terms, thought,

sentiment, emotion, feeling, and passion, are but the verbal signs of these

degrees and forms. Nor does there appear to be any line of classification,

for separating thought from passion: since simple thoughts, without

changing their nature, do, from interest or incitement, often assume the

colour of passion."--_Philosophy of the Human Voice_, p. 328.

4. Lord Kames, in the Appendix to his Elements of Criticism, divides _the

senses_ into external and internal, defining _perception_ to be the act by

which through the former we know outward objects, and _consciousness_ the

act by which through the latter we know what is within the mind. An _idea_,

according to his definition, (which he says is precise and accurate,) is,

"That _perception_ of a real object which _is raised_ in the mind by the

power of _memory_." But among the real objects from which memory may raise

ideas, he includes the workings of the mind itself, or whatever we remember

of our former passions, emotions, thoughts, or designs. Such a definition,

he imagines, might have saved Locke, Berkley, and their followers, from

much vain speculation; for with the ideal systems of these philosophers, or

with those of Aristotle and Des Cartes, he by no means coincides. This

author says, "As ideas are the chief materials employed in reasoning and

reflecting, it is of consequence that their nature and differences be

understood. It appears now that ideas may be distinguished into three

kinds: first, Ideas derived from original perceptions, properly termed

_ideas of memory_; second, Ideas communicated _by language_ or other signs;

and third, Ideas _of imagination_. These ideas differ from each other in

many respects; but chiefly in respect to their _proceeding from different

causes_. The first kind is derived from real existences that have been

objects of our senses; _language is the cause of the second_, or any other

sign that has the same power with language; and a man's imagination is to

himself the cause of the third. It is scarce [ly] necessary to add, that an

idea, originally of imagination, being conveyed to others by language or

any other vehicle, becomes in their mind an idea of the second kind; and

again, that an idea of this kind, being afterwards recalled to the mind,

becomes in that circumstance an idea of memory."--_El. of Crit._, Vol. ii,

p. 384.

5. Whether, or how far, language is to the mind itself _the instrument of

thought_, is a question of great importance in the philosophy of both. Our

literature contains occasional assertions bearing upon this point, but I

know of no full or able discussion of it.[30] Cardell's instructions

proceed upon the supposition, that neither the reason of men, nor even that

of superior intelligences, can ever operate independently of words.

"Speech," says he, "is to the mind what action is to animal bodies. Its

improvement is the improvement of our intellectual nature, and a duty to

God who gave it."--_Essay on Language_, p. 3. Again: "An attentive

investigation will show, that there is no way in which the individual mind

can, within itself, to any extent, _combine its ideas_, but by the

intervention of words. Every process of the reasoning powers, beyond the

immediate perception of sensible objects, depends on the structure of

speech; and, in a great degree, according to the excellence of this _chief

instrument of all mental operations_, will be the means of personal

improvement, of the social transmission of thought, and the elevation of

national character. From this, it may be laid down as a broad principle,

that no individual can make great advances in intellectual improvement,

beyond the bounds of a ready-formed language, as the necessary means of his

progress."--_Ib._, p. 9. These positions might easily be offset by contrary

speculations of minds of equal rank; but I submit them to the reader, with

the single suggestion, that the author is not remarkable for that sobriety

of judgement which gives weight to opinions.

6. We have seen, among the citations in a former chapter, that Sanctius

says, "Names are the signs, and as it were _the instruments, of things_."

But what he meant by "_instrumenta rerum_" is not very apparent. Dr. Adam

says, "The principles of grammar may be traced from the progress of the

mind in the acquisition of language. Children first express their feelings

by motions and gestures of the body, by cries and tears. _This is_[31] the

language of nature, and therefore universal. _It fitly represents_[32] the

quickness of sentiment and thought, which are as instantaneous as the

impression of light on the eye. Hence we always express our stronger

feelings by these natural signs. But when we want to make known to others

the particular conceptions of the mind, we must represent them by parts, we

must divide and analyze them. We express _each part by certain signs_,[33]

and join these together, according to the order of their relations. Thus

words are _both the instrument and signs[34] the division_ of

thought."--_Preface to Latin Gram._

7. The utterance of words, or the making of signs of any sort, requires

time;[35] but it is here suggested by Dr. Adam, that sentiment and thought,

though susceptible of being retained or recalled, naturally flash upon the

mind with immeasurable quickness.[36] If so, they must originate in

something more spiritual than language. The Doctor does not affirm that

words are the instruments of thought, but of _the division_ of thought. But

it is manifest, that if they effect this, they are not the only instruments

by means of which the same thing may be done. The deaf and dumb, though

uninstructed and utterly ignorant of language, can think; and can, by rude

signs of their own inventing, manifest a similar division, corresponding to

the individuality of things. And what else can be meant by "_the division

of thought_," than our notion of objects, as existing severally, or as

being distinguishable into parts? There can, I think, be no such division

respecting that which is perfectly pure and indivisible in its essence;

and, I would ask, is not simple continuity apt to exclude it from our

conception of every thing which appears with uniform coherence? Dr. Beattie

says, "It appears to me, that, as all things are individuals, all thoughts

must be so too."--_Moral Science_, Chap, i, Sec. 1. If, then, our thoughts

are thus divided, and consequently, as this author infers, have not in

themselves any of that generality which belongs to the signification of

common nouns, there is little need of any instrument to divide them

further: the mind rather needs help, as Cardell suggests, "to combine its

ideas." [37]

8. So far as language is a work of art, and not a thing conferred or

imposed upon us by nature, there surely can be in it neither division nor

union that was not first in the intellect for the manifestation of which it

was formed. First, with respect to generalization. "The human mind," says

Harris, "by an energy as spontaneous and familiar to its nature, as the

seeing of colour is familiar to the eye, discerns at once what in many is

one, what in things dissimilar and different is similar and the

same."--_Hermes_, p. 362. Secondly, with respect to division. Mechanical

separations are limited: "But the mind surmounts all power of concretion;

and can place in the simplest manner every attribute by itself; convex

without concave; colour without superficies; superficies without body; and

body without its accidents: as distinctly each one, as though they had

never been united. And thus it is, that it penetrates into the recesses of

all things, not only dividing them as wholes, into their more conspicuous

parts, but persisting till it even separate those elementary principles

which, being blended together after a more mysterious manner, are united in

the minutest part as much as in the mightiest whole."--_Harris's Hermes_,

p. 307.

9. It is remarkable that this philosopher, who had so sublime conceptions

of the powers of the human mind, and who has displayed such extraordinary

acuteness in his investigations, has represented the formation of words, or

the utterance of language, as equalling in speed the progress of our very

thoughts; while, as we have seen, an other author, of great name, avers,

that thought is "as instantaneous as the impression of light on the eye."

Philosophy here too evidently nods. In showing the advantage of words, as

compared with pictures, Harris says, "If we consider the ease and speed

with which words are formed,-an ease which knows no trouble or fatigue, and

a _speed which equals the progress of our very thoughts_,[38]--we may

plainly perceive an answer to the question here proposed, Why, in the

common intercourse of men with men, imitations have been rejected, and

symbols preferred."--_Hermes_, p. 336. Let us hear a third man, of equal

note: "Words have been called _winged_; and they well deserve that name,

when their abbreviations are compared with the progress which speech could

make without these inventions; but, compared with the rapidity of thought,

they have not _the smallest claim to that title_. Philosophers have

calculated the difference of velocity between sound and light; but who will

attempt to calculate the difference between speech and thought!"--_Horne

Tooke's Epea Pteroenta_, Vol. i, p. 23.

10. It is certain, that, in the admirable economy of the creation, natures

subordinate are made, in a wonderful manner, subservient to the operations

of the higher; and that, accordingly, our first ideas are such as are

conceived of things external and sensible. Hence all men whose intellect

appeals only to external sense, are prone to a philosophy which reverses

the order of things pertaining to the mind, and tends to materialism, if

not to atheism. "But"--to refer again to Harris--"the intellectual scheme

which never forgets Deity, postpones every thing corporeal to the primary

mental Cause. It is here it looks for the origin of intelligible ideas,

even of those which exist in human capacities. For though sensible objects

may be the destined medium to awaken the dormant energies of man's

understanding, yet are those energies themselves no more contained, in

sense, than the explosion of a cannon, in the spark which gave it fire. In

short, all minds that are, are similar and congenial; and so too are their

ideas, or intelligible forms. Were it otherwise, there could be no

intercourse between man and man, or (what is more important) between man

and God."--_Hermes_, p. 393.

11. A doctrine somewhat like this, is found in the Meditations of the

emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, though apparently repugnant to the

polytheism commonly admitted by the Stoics, to whom he belonged: "The

world, take it all together, is but one; there is but one sort of matter to

make it of, one God to govern it, and one law to guide it. For, run through

the whole system of rational beings, and you will find reason and truth but

single and the same. And thus beings of the same kind, and endued with the

same reason, are made happy by the same exercises of it."--Book vii, Sec.

9. Again: "Let your soul receive the Deity as your blood does the air; for

the influences of the one are no less vital, than those of the other. This

correspondence is very practicable: for there is an ambient omnipresent

Spirit, which lies as open and pervious to your mind, as the air you

breathe does to your lungs: but then you must remember to be disposed to

draw it."--Book viii, Sec. 54; _Collier's Translation_.

12. Agreeably to these views, except that he makes a distinction between a

natural and a supernatural idea of God, we find Barclay, the early defender

of the Quakers, in an argument with a certain Dutch nobleman,

philosophizing thus: "If the Scripture then be true, there is in men a

supernatural idea of God, which altogether differs from this natural

idea--I say, in all men; because all men are capable of salvation, and

consequently of enjoying this divine vision. Now this capacity consisteth

herein, that they have such a supernatural idea in themselves.[39] For if

there were no such idea in them, it were impossible they should so know

God; for whatsoever is clearly and distinctly known, is known by its proper

idea; neither can it otherwise be clearly and distinctly known. _For the

ideas of all things are divinely planted in our souls_; for, as the better

philosophy teacheth, they are not begotten in us by outward objects or

outward causes, but only are by these outward things excited or stirred up.

And this is true, not only in supernatural ideas of God and things divine,

and in natural ideas of the natural principles of human understanding, and

conclusions thence deduced by the strength of human reason; but even in the

ideas of outward objects, which are perceived by the outward senses: as

that noble Christian philosopher Boëthius hath well observed; to which also

the Cartesian philosophy agreeth." I quote only to show the concurrence of

others, with Harris's position. Barclay carries on his argument with much

more of a similar import. See _Sewell's History_, folio, p. 620.

13. But the doctrine of ideas existing primarily in God, and being divinely

planted in our souls, did not originate with Boëthius: it may be traced

back a thousand years from his time, through the philosophy of Proclus,

Zeno, Aristotle,[40] Plato, Socrates, Parmenides, and Pythagoras. It is

absurd to suppose any production or effect to be more excellent than its

cause. That which really produces motion, cannot itself be inert; and that

which actually causes the human mind to think and reason, cannot itself be

devoid of intelligence. "For knowledge can alone produce knowledge." [41] A

doctrine apparently at variance with this, has recently been taught, with

great confidence, among the professed discoveries of _Phrenology_. How much

truth there may be in this new "_science_," as it is called, I am not

prepared to say; but, as sometimes held forth, it seems to me not only to

clash with some of the most important principles of mental philosophy, but

to make the power of thought the result of that which is in itself inert

and unthinking. Assuming that the primitive faculties of the human

understanding have not been known in earlier times, it professes to have

discovered, in the physical organization of the brain, their proper source,

or essential condition, and the true index to their measure, number, and

distribution. In short, the leading phrenologists, by acknowledging no

spiritual substance, virtually deny that ancient doctrine, "It is not in

flesh to think, or bones to reason," [42] and make the mind either a

material substance, or a mere mode without substantial being.

14. "The

doctrine of _immaterial substances_," says Dr. Spurzheim, "is not

sufficiently amenable to the test of observation; it is founded on belief,

and only supported by hypothesis."--_Phrenology_, Vol. i, p. 20. But it

should be remembered, that our notion of material substance, is just as

much a matter of hypothesis. All accidents, whether they be qualities or

actions, we necessarily suppose to have some support; and this we call

_substance_, deriving the term from the Latin, or _hypostasis_, if we

choose to borrow from the Greek. But what this substance, or hypostasis,

is, independently of its qualities or actions, we know not. This is clearly

proved by Locke. What do we mean by _matter_? and what by _mind_? _Matter_

is that which is solid, extended, divisible, movable, and occupies space.

_Mind_ is that which thinks, and wills, and reasons, and remembers, and

worships. Here are qualities in the one case; operations in the other. Here

are two definitions as totally distinct as any two can be; and he that sees

not in them a difference of _substance_, sees it nowhere: to him all

natures are one; and that one, an absurd supposition.

15. In favour of what is urged by the phrenologists, it may perhaps be

admitted, as a natural law, that, "If a picture of a visible object be

formed upon the retina, and the impression be communicated, by the nerves,

to the brain, the _result_ will be an act of perception."--_Wayland's Moral

Science_, p. 4. But it does not follow, nor did the writer of this sentence

believe, that perception is a mere act or attribute of the organized matter

of the brain. A material object can only occasion in our sensible organs a

corporeal motion, which has not in it the nature of thought or perception;

and upon what principle of causation, shall a man believe, in respect to

vision, that the thing which he sees, is more properly the cause of the

idea conceived of it, than is the light by which he beholds it, or the mind

in which that idea is formed? Lord Kames avers, that, "Colour, which

appears to the eye as spread upon a substance, has no existence but in the

mind of the spectator."--_Elements of Criticism_, i, 178. And Cicero placed

the perception, not only of colour, but of taste, of sound, of smell, and

of touch, in the mind, rather than in the senses. "Illud est album, hoc

dulce, canorum illud, hoc bene olens, hoc asperum: animo jam hæc tenemus

comprehensa, non sensibus."--_Ciceronis Acad._ Lib. ii, 7. Dr. Beattie,

however, says: "Colours inhere not in the coloured body, but in the light

that falls upon it; * * * and the word _colour_ denotes, an external thing,

and never a sensation of the mind."--_Moral Science_, i, 54. Here is some

difference of opinion; but however the thing may be, it does not affect my

argument; which is, that to perceive or think is an act or attribute of our

immaterial substance or nature, and not to be supposed the effect either of

the objects perceived or of our own corporeal organization.

16. Divine wisdom has established the senses as the avenues through which

our minds shall receive notices of the forms and qualities of external

things; but the sublime conception of the ancients, that these forms and

qualities had an abstract preëxistence in the divine mind, is a common

doctrine of many English authors, as Milton, Cowper, Akenside, and others.

For example: "Now if _Ens primum_ be the cause of _entia a primo_, then he

hath the idea of them in him: for he made them by counsel, and not by

necessity; for then he should have needed them, and they have a parhelion

of that wisdom that is in his Idea."--_Richardson's Logic_, p. 16: Lond.

1657.

"Then the Great Spirit, whom his works adore,

Within his own deep essence view'd the forms,

The forms eternal of created things."--AKENSIDE.

_Pleasures of the Imagination_, Book i.

"And in the school of sacred wisdom taught,

To read his wonders, in whose thought the world,

Fair as it is, existed ere it was."--COWPER.

_Task: Winter Morning Walk_, p. 150.

"Thence to behold this new-created world,

The addition of his empire, how it show'd

In prospect from his throne, how good, how fair,

Answering his great idea."--MILTON.

_Paradise Lost_, Book vii, line 554.

"Thought shines from God as shines the morn;

Language from kindling thought is born."

ANON.: _a Poem in imitation of Coleridge_.

17. "Original Truth," [43] says Harris, "having the most intimate

connection with the _Supreme Intelligence_, may be said (as it were) to

shine with unchangeable splendor, enlightening throughout the universe

every possible subject, by nature susceptible of its benign influence.

Passions and other obstacles may prevent indeed its efficacy, as clouds and

vapours may obscure the sun; but itself neither admits diminution, nor

change, because the darkness respects only particular percipients. Among

_these_ therefore we must look for ignorance and error, and for that

_subordination of intelligence_ which is their natural consequence. Partial

views, the imperfections of sense; inattention, idleness, the turbulence of

passions; education, local sentiments, opinions, and belief; conspire in

many instances to furnish us with ideas, some too partial, and (what is

worse than all this) with many that are erroneous, and contrary to truth.

These it behoves us to correct as far as possible, by cool suspense and

candid examination. Thus by a connection perhaps little expected, the cause

of _Letters_, and that of _Virtue_, appear to coincide; it being the

business of both, to examine our ideas, and to amend them by the standard

of nature and of truth."--See _Hermes_, p. 406.

18. Although it seems plain from our own consciousness, that the mind is an

active self-moving principle or essence, yet capable of being moved, after

its own manner, by other causes outward as well as inward; and although it

must be obvious to reflection, that all its ideas, perceptions, and

emotions, are, with respect to itself, of a spiritual nature--bearing such

a relation to the spiritual substance in which alone they appear, as bodily

motion is seen to bear to material substances; yet we know, from experience

and observation, that they who are acquainted with words, are apt to think

in words--that is, mentally to associate their internal conceptions with

the verbal signs which they have learned to use. And though I do not

conceive the position to be generally true, that words are to the mind

itself the necessary instruments of thought, yet, in my apprehension, it

cannot well be denied, that in some of its operations and intellectual

reaches, the mind is greatly assisted by its own contrivances with respect

to language. I refer not now to the communication of knowledge; for, of

this, language is admitted to be properly the instrument. But there seem to

be some processes of thought, or calculation, in which the mind, by a

wonderful artifice in the combination of terms, contrives to prevent

embarrassment, and help itself forward in its conceptions, when the objects

before it are in themselves perhaps infinite in number or variety.

19. We have an instance of this in numeration. No idea is more obvious or

simple than that of unity, or one. By the continual addition of this, first

to itself to make two, and then to each higher combination successively, we

form a series of different numbers, which may go on to infinity. In the

consideration of these, the mind would not be able to go tar without the

help of words, and those peculiarly fitted to the purpose. The

understanding would lose itself in the multiplicity, were it not aided by

that curious concatenation of names, which has been contrived for the

several parts of the succession. As far as _twelve_ we make use of simple

unrelated terms. Thenceforward we apply derivatives and compounds, formed

from these in their regular order, till we arrive at a _hundred_. This one

new word, _hundred_, introduced to prevent confusion, has nine hundred and

ninety-nine distinct repetitions in connexion with the preceding terms, and

thus brings us to a _thousand_. Here the computation begins anew, runs

through all the former combinations, and then extends forward, till the

word _thousand_ has been used nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand times;

and then, for ten hundred thousand, we introduce the new word _million_.

With this name we begin again as before, and proceed till we have used it a

million of times, each combination denoting a number clearly distinguished

from every other; and then, in like manner, we begin and proceed, with

_billions, trillions, quadrillions, quintillions, etc._, to any extent we

please.

20. Now can any one suppose that words are not here, in some true sense,

the instruments of thought, or of the intellectual process thus carried on?

Were all these different numbers to be distinguished directly by the mind

itself, and denominated by terms destitute of this artificial connexion, it

may well be doubted whether the greatest genius in the world would ever be

able to do what any child may now effect by this orderly arrangement of

words; that is, to distinguish exactly the several stages of this long

progression, and see at a glance how far it is from the beginning of the

series. "The great art of knowledge," says Duncan, "lies in managing with

skill the capacity of the intellect, and contriving such helps, as, if they

strengthen not its natural powers, may yet expose them to no unnecessary

fatigue. When ideas become very complex, and by the multiplicity of their

parts grow too unwieldy to be dealt with in the lump, we must ease the view

of the mind by taking them to pieces, and setting before it the several

portions separately, one after an other. By this leisurely survey we are

enabled to take in the whole; and if we can draw it into such an orderly

combination as will naturally lead the attention, step by step, in any

succeeding consideration of the same idea, we shall have it ever at

command, and with a single glance of thought be able to run over all its

parts."--_Duncan's Logic_, p. 37, Hence we may infer the great importance

of method in grammar; the particulars of which, as Quintilian says, are

infinite.[44]

21. Words are in themselves but audible or visible signs, mere arbitrary

symbols, used, according to common practice and consent, as significant of

our ideas or thoughts.[45] But so well are they fitted to be made at will

the medium of mental conference, that nothing else can be conceived to

equal them for this purpose. Yet it does not follow that they who have the

greatest knowledge and command of words, have all they could desire in this

respect. For language is in its own nature but an imperfect instrument, and

even when tuned with the greatest skill, will often be found inadequate to

convey the impression with which the mind may labour. Cicero, that great

master of eloquence, frequently confessed, or declared, that words failed

him. This, however, may be thought to have been uttered as a mere figure of

speech; and some may say, that the imperfection I speak of, is but an

incident of the common weakness or ignorance of human nature; and that if a

man always knew what to say to an other in order to persuade or confute, to

encourage or terrify him, he would always succeed, and no insufficiency of

this kind would ever be felt or imagined. This also is plausible; but is

the imperfection less, for being sometimes traceable to an ulterior source?

Or is it certain that human languages used by perfect wisdom, would all be

perfectly competent to their common purpose? And if some would be found

less so than others, may there not be an insufficiency in the very nature

of them all?

22. If there is imperfection in any instrument, there is so much the more

need of care and skill in the use of it. Duncan, in concluding his chapter

about words as signs of our ideas, says, "It is apparent, that we are

sufficiently provided with the means' of communicating our thoughts one to

another; and that the mistakes so frequently complained of on this head,

are wholly owing to ourselves, in not sufficiently defining the terms we

use; or perhaps not connecting them with clear and determinate

ideas."--_Logic_, p. 69. On the other hand, we find that some of the best

and wisest of men confess the inadequacy of language, while they also

deplore its misuse. But, whatever may be its inherent defects, or its

culpable abuses, it is still to be honoured as almost the only medium for

the communication of thought and the diffusion of knowledge. Bishop Butler

remarks, in his Analogy of Religion, (a most valuable work, though

defective in style,) "So likewise the imperfections attending the only

method by which nature enables and directs us to communicate our thoughts

to each other, are innumerable. Language is, in its very nature,

inadequate, ambiguous, liable to infinite abuse, even from negligence; and

so liable to it from design, that every man can deceive and betray by

it."--Part ii, Chap. 3. Lord Kames, too, seconds this complaint, at least

in part: "Lamentable is the imperfection of language, almost in every

particular that falls not under external sense. I am talking of a matter

exceedingly clear in the perception, and yet I find no small difficulty to

express it clearly in words."--_Elements of Criticism_, Vol. i, p. 86. "All

writers," says Sheridan, "seem to be under the influence of one common

delusion, that by the help of words alone, they can communicate all that

passes in their minds."--_Lectures on Elocution_, p. xi.

23. Addison also, in apologizing for Milton's frequent use of old words and

foreign idioms, says, "I may further add, that Milton's sentiments and

ideas were so wonderfully sublime, that it would have been impossible for

him to have represented them in their full strength and beauty, without

having recourse to these foreign assistances. _Our language sunk under

him_, and was unequal to that greatness of soul which furnished him with

such glorious conceptions."--_Spectator_, No. 297. This, however, Dr.

Johnson seems to regard as a mere compliment to genius; for of Milton he

says, "The truth is, that both in prose and verse, he had formed his style

by a perverse and pedantick principle." But the grandeur of his thoughts is

not denied by the critic; nor is his language censured without

qualification. "Whatever be the faults of his diction, he cannot want the

praise of copiousness and variety: he was master of his language in its

full extent; and has selected the melodious words with such diligence, that

from his book alone the Art of English Poetry might be learned."--

_Johnson's Life of Milton_: _Lives_, p. 92. 24. As words abstractly

considered are empty and vain, being in their nature mere signs, or tokens,

which derive all their value from the ideas and feelings which they

suggest; it is evident that he who would either speak or write well, must

be furnished with something more than a knowledge of sounds and letters.

Words fitly spoken are indeed both precious and beautiful--"like apples of

gold in pictures of silver." But it is not for him whose soul is dark,

whose designs are selfish, whose affections are dead, or whose thoughts are

vain, to say with the son of Amram, "My doctrine shall drop as the rain, my

speech shall distil as the dew; as the small rain upon the tender herb, and

as the showers upon the grass."--_Deut._, xxxii, 2. It is not for him to

exhibit the true excellency of speech, because he cannot feel its power. It

is not for him, whatever be the theme, to convince the judgement with

deductions of reason, to fire the imagination with glowing imagery, or win

with graceful words the willing ear of taste. His wisdom shall be silence,

when men are present; for the soul of manly language, is the soul that

thinks and feels as best becomes a man.

CHAPTER VI.

OF THE ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

"Non mediocres enim tenebræ in sylva, ubi hæc captanda: neque eon, quo

pervenire volumus semitæ tritæ: neque non in tramitibus quædam objecta, quæ

euntem retinere possent."--VARRO. _De Lingua Latina_, Lib. iv, p. 4.

1. In order that we may set a just value upon the literary labours of those

who, in former times, gave particular attention to the culture of the

English language, and that we may the better judge of the credibility of

modern pretensions to further improvements, it seems necessary that we

should know something of the course of events through which its

acknowledged melioration in earlier days took place. For, in this case, the

extent of a man's knowledge is the strength of his argument. As Bacon

quotes Aristotle, "Qui respiciunt ad pauca, de facili pronunciant." He that

takes a narrow view, easily makes up his mind. But what is any opinion

worth, if further knowledge of facts can confute it?

2. Whatsoever is successively varied, or has such a manner of existence as

time can affect, must have had both an origin and a progress; and may have

also its particular _history_, if the opportunity for writing it be not

neglected. But such is the levity of mankind, that things of great moment

are often left without memorial, while the hand of Literature is busy to

beguile the world with trifles or with fictions, with fancies or with lies.

The rude and cursory languages of barbarous nations, till the genius of

Grammar arise to their rescue, are among those transitory things which

unsparing time is ever hurrying away, irrecoverably, to oblivion. Tradition

knows not what they were; for of their changes she takes no account.

Philosophy tells us, they are resolved into the variable, fleeting breath

of the successive generations of those by whom they were spoken; whose

kindred fate it was, to pass away unnoticed and nameless, lost in the

elements from which they sprung.

3. Upon the history of the English language, darkness thickens as we tread

back the course of time. The subject of our inquiry becomes, at every step,

more difficult and less worthy. We have now a tract of English literature,

both extensive and luminous; and though many modern writers, and no few

even of our writers on grammar, are comparatively very deficient in style,

it is safe to affirm that the English language in general has never been

written or spoken with more propriety and elegance, than it is at the

present day. Modern English we read with facility; and that which was good

two centuries ago, though considerably antiquated, is still easily

understood. The best way, therefore, to gain a practical knowledge of the

changes which our language has undergone, is, to read some of our older

authors in retrograde order, till the style employed at times more and more

remote, becomes in some degree familiar. Pursued in this manner, the study

will be less difficult, and the labour of the curious inquirer, which may

be suspended or resumed at pleasure, will be better repaid, than if he

proceed in the order of history, and attempt at first the Saxon remains.

4. The value of a language as an object of study, depends chiefly on the

character of the _books_ which it contains; and, secondarily, on its

connexion with others more worthy to be thoroughly known. In this instance,

there are several circumstances which are calculated soon to discourage

research. As our language took its rise during the barbarism of the dark

ages, the books through which its early history must be traced, are not

only few and meagre, but, in respect to grammar, unsettled and diverse. It

is not to be expected that inquiries of this kind will ever engage the

attention of any very considerable number of persons. Over the minds of the

reading public, the attractions of novelty hold a much greater influence,

than any thing that is to be discovered in the dusk of antiquity. All old

books contain a greater or less number of obsolete words, and antiquated

modes of expression, which puzzle the reader, and call him too frequently

to his glossary. And even the most common terms, when they appear in their

ancient, unsettled orthography, are often so disguised as not to be readily

recognized.

5. These circumstances (the last of which should be a caution to us against

innovations in spelling) retard the progress of the reader, impose a labour

too great for the ardour of his curiosity, and soon dispose him to rest

satisfied with an ignorance, which, being general, is not likely to expose

him to censure. For these reasons, ancient authors are little read; and the

real antiquary is considered a man of odd habits, who, by a singular

propensity, is led into studies both unfashionable and fruitless--a man who

ought to have been born in the days of old, that he might have spoken the

language he is so curious to know, and have appeared in the costume of an

age better suited to his taste.

6. But _Learning_ is ever curious to explore the records of time, as well

as the regions of space; and wherever her institutions flourish, she will

amass her treasures, and spread them before her votaries. Difference of

languages she easily overcomes; but the leaden reign of unlettered

Ignorance defies her scrutiny. Hence, of one period of the world's history,

she ever speaks with horror--that "long night of apostasy," during which,

like a lone Sibyl, she hid her precious relics in solitary cells, and

fleeing from degraded Christendom, sought refuge with the eastern caliphs.

"This awful decline of true religion in the world carried with it almost

every vestige of civil liberty, of classical literature, and of scientific

knowledge; and it will generally be found in experience that they must all

stand or fall together."--_Hints on Toleration_, p. 263. In the tenth

century, beyond which we find nothing that bears much resemblance to the

English language as now written, this mental darkness appears to have

gathered to its deepest obscuration; and, at that period, England was sunk

as low in ignorance, superstition, and depravity, as any other part of

Europe.

7. The English language gradually varies as we trace it back, and becomes

at length identified with the Anglo-Saxon; that is, with the dialect spoken

by the Saxons after their settlement in England. These Saxons were a

fierce, warlike, unlettered people from Germany; whom the ancient Britons

had invited to their assistance against the Picts and Scots. Cruel and

ignorant, like their Gothic kindred, who had but lately overrun the Roman

empire, they came, not for the good of others, but to accommodate

themselves. They accordingly seized the country; destroyed or enslaved the

ancient inhabitants; or, more probably, drove the remnant of them into the

mountains of Wales. Of Welsh or ancient British words, Charles Bucke, who

says in his grammar that he took great pains to be accurate in his scale of

derivation, enumerates but one hundred and eleven, as now found in our

language; and Dr. Johnson, who makes them but ninety-five, argues from

their paucity, or almost total absence, that the Saxons could not have

mingled at all with these people, or even have retained them in vassalage.

8. The ancient languages of France and of the British isles are said to

have proceeded from an other language yet more ancient, called the

_Celtic_; so that, from one common source, are supposed to have sprung the

present Welsh, the present Irish, and the present Highland Scotch.[46] The

term _Celtic_ Dr. Webster defines, as a noun, "The language of the Celts;"

and, as an adjective, "Pertaining to the primitive inhabitants of the south

and west of Europe, or to the early inhabitants of Italy, Gaul, Spain, and

Britain." What _unity_, according to this, there was, or could have been,

in the ancient Celtic tongue, does not appear from books, nor is it easy to

be conjectured.[47] Many ancient writers sustain this broad application of

the term _Celtæ_ or _Celts_; which, according to Strabo's etymology of it,

means horsemen, and seems to have been almost as general as our word

_Indians_. But Cæsar informs us that the name was more particularly claimed

by the people who, in his day, lived in France between the Seine and the

Garonne, and who by the Romans were called _Galli_, or _Gauls_.

9. The _Celtic_ tribes are said to have been the descendants of Gomer, the

son of Japhet. The English historians agree that the first inhabitants of

their island owed their origin and their language to the _Celtæ_, or Gauls,

who settled on the opposite shore. Julius Cæsar, who invaded Britain about

half a century before the Christian era, found the inhabitants ignorant of

letters, and destitute of any history but oral tradition. To this, however,

they paid great attention, teaching every thing in verse. Some of the

Druids, it is said in Cæsar's Commentaries, spent twenty years in learning

to repeat songs and hymns that were never committed to writing. These

ancient priests, or diviners, are represented as having great power, and as

exercising it in some respects beneficially; but their horrid rites, with

human sacrifices, provoked the Romans to destroy them. Smollett says,

"Tiberius suppressed those human sacrifices in Gaul; and Claudius destroyed

the Druids of that country; but they subsisted in Britain till the reign of

Nero, when Paulus Suetonius reduced the island of Anglesey, which was the

place of their retreat, and overwhelmed them with such unexpected and

sudden destruction, that all their knowledge and tradition, conveyed to

them in the songs of their predecessors, perished at once."--_Smollett's

Hist. of Eng._, 4to, B. i, Ch. i, §7.

10. The Romans considered Britain a province of their empire, for a period

of about five hundred years; but the northern part of the island was never

entirely subdued by them, and not till Anno Domini 78, a hundred and

thirty-three years after their first invasion of the country, had they

completed their conquest of England. Letters and arts, so far at least as

these are necessary to the purposes of war or government, the victors

carried with them; and under their auspices some knowledge of Christianity

was, at a very early period, introduced into Britain. But it seems strange,

that after all that is related of their conquests, settlements, cities,

fortifications, buildings, seminaries, churches, laws, &c., they should at

last have left the Britons in so helpless, degraded, and forlorn a

condition. They _did not sow among them the seeds_ of any permanent

improvement.

11. The Roman government, being unable to sustain itself at home, withdrew

its forces finally from Britain in the year 446, leaving the wretched

inhabitants almost as savage as it found them, and in a situation even less

desirable. Deprived of their native resources, their ancient independence

of spirit, as well as of the laws, customs, institutions, and leaders, that

had kept them together under their old dynasties, and now deserted by their

foreign protectors, they were apparently left at the mercy of blind

fortune, the wretched vicissitudes of which there was none to foresee, none

to resist. The glory of the Romans now passed away. The mighty fabric of

their own proud empire crumbled into ruins. Civil liberty gave place to

barbarism; Christian truth, to papal superstition; and the lights of

science were put out by both. The shades of night gathered over all;

settling and condensing, "till almost every point of that wide horizon,

over which the Sun of Righteousness had diffused his cheering rays, was

enveloped in a darkness more awful and more portentous than that which of

old descended upon rebellious Pharaoh and the callous sons of Ham."--_Hints

on Toleration_, p. 310.

12. The Saxons entered Britain in the year 449. But what was the form of

their language at that time, cannot now be known. It was a dialect of the

_Gothic_ or _Teutonic_; which is considered the parent of all the northern

tongues of Europe, except some few of Sclavonian origin. The only remaining

monument of the Gothic language is a copy of the Gospels, translated by

Ulphilas; which is preserved at Upsal, and called, from its embellishments,

_the Silver Book_. This old work has been three times printed in England.

We possess not yet in America all the advantages which may be enjoyed by

literary men in the land of our ancestors; but the stores of literature,

both ancient and modern, are somewhat more familiar to us, than is there

supposed; and the art of printing is fast equalizing, to all nations that

cultivate learning, the privilege of drinking at its ancient fountains.

13. It is neither liberal nor just to argue unfavourably of the

intellectual or the moral condition of any remote age or country, merely

from our own ignorance of it. It is true, we can derive from no quarter a

favourable opinion of the state of England after the Saxon invasion, and

during the tumultuous and bloody government of the heptarchy. But I will

not darken the picture through design. If justice were done to the few

names--to Gildas the wise, the memorialist of his country's sufferings and

censor of the nation's depravity, who appears a solitary star in the night

of the sixth century--to the venerable Bede, the greatest theologian, best

scholar, and only historian of the seventh--to Alcuin, the abbot of

Canterbury, the luminary of the eighth--to Alfred the great, the glory of

the ninth, great as a prince, and greater as a scholar, seen in the evening

twilight of an age in which the clergy could not read;--if justice were

done to all such, we might find something, even in these dark and rugged

times, if not to soften the grimness of the portrait, at least to give

greater distinctness of feature.

14. In tracing the history of our language, Dr. Johnson, who does little

more than give examples, cites as his first specimen of ancient English, a

portion of king [sic--KTH] Alfred's paraphrase in imitation of Boëthius.

But this language of Alfred's is not English; but rather, as the learned

doctor himself considered it, an example of the Anglo-Saxon in its highest

state of purity. This dialect was first changed by admixture with words

derived from the Danish and the Norman; and, still being comparatively rude

and meagre, afterwards received large accessions from the Latin, the

French, the Greek, the Dutch--till, by gradual changes, which the

etymologist may exhibit, there was at length produced a language bearing a

sufficient resemblance to the present English, to deserve to be called

English at this day.

15. The formation of our language cannot with

propriety be dated earlier than the thirteenth century. It was then that a

free and voluntary amalgamation of its chief constituent materials took

place; and this was somewhat earlier than we date the revival of learning.

The English of the thirteenth century is scarcely intelligible to the

modern reader. Dr. Johnson calls it "a kind of intermediate diction,

neither Saxon nor English;" and says, that Sir John Gower, who wrote in the

latter part of the fourteenth century, was "the first of our authors who

can be properly said to have written English." Contemporary with Gower, the

father of English poetry, was the still greater poet, his disciple Chaucer;

who embraced many of the tenets of Wickliffe, and imbibed something of the

spirit of the reformation, which was now begun.

16. The literary history of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries is full

of interest; for it is delightful to trace the progress of great and

obvious improvement. The reformation of religion and the revival of

learning were nearly simultaneous. Yet individuals may have acted a

conspicuous part in the latter, who had little to do with the former; for

great learning does not necessarily imply great piety, though, as Dr.

Johnson observes, "the Christian religion always implies or produces a

certain degree of civility and learning."--_Hist. Eng. Lang. before his 4to

Dict._ "The ordinary instructions of the clergy, both philosophical and

religious, gradually fell into contempt, as the Classics superseded the

one, and the Holy Scriptures expelled the other. The first of these changes

was effected by _the early grammarians_ of Europe; and it gave considerable

aid to the reformation, though it had no immediate connexion with that

event. The revival of the English Bible, however, completed the work: and

though its appearance was late, and its progress was retarded in every

possible manner, yet its dispersion was at length equally rapid, extensive,

and effectual."--_Constable's Miscellany_, Vol. xx, p. 75.

17. Peculiar honour is due to those who lead the way in whatever advances

human happiness. And, surely, our just admiration of the character of the

_reformers_ must be not a little enhanced, when we consider what they did

for letters as well as for the church. Learning does not consist in useless

jargon, in a multitude of mere words, or in acute speculations remote from

practice; else the seventeen folios of St. Thomas Aquinas, the angelical

doctor of the thirteenth century, and the profound disputations of his

great rival, Duns Scotus the subtle, for which they were revered in their

own age, had not gained them the contempt of all posterity. From such

learning the lucid reasoning of the reformers delivered the halls of

instruction. The school divinity of the middle ages passed away before the

presence of that which these men learned from the Bible, as did in a later

age the Aristotelian philosophy before that which Bacon drew from nature.

18. Towards the latter part of the fourteenth century, Wickliffe furnished

the first entire translation of the Bible into English. In like manner did

the Germans, a hundred and fifty years after, receive it in their tongue

from the hands of Luther; who says, that at twenty years of age, he himself

had not seen it in any language. Wickliffe's English style is elegant for

the age in which he lived, yet very different from what is elegant now.

This first English translation of the Bible, being made about a hundred

years before the introduction of printing into England, could not have been

very extensively circulated. A large specimen of it may be seen in Dr.

Johnson's History of the English Language. Wickliffe died in 1384. The art

of printing was invented about 1440, and first introduced into England, in

1468; but the first printed edition of the Bible in English, was executed

in Germany. It was completed, October 5th, 1535.

19. "Martin Luther, about the year 1517, first introduced metrical psalmody

into the service of the church, which not only kept alive the enthusiasm of

the reformers, but formed a rallying point for his followers. This practice

spread in all directions; and it was not long ere six thousand persons were

heard singing together at St. Paul's Cross in London. Luther was a poet and

musician; but the same talent existed not in his followers. Thirty years

afterwards, Sternhold versified fifty-one of the Psalms; and in 1562, with

the help of Hopkins, he completed the Psalter. These poetical effusions

were chiefly sung to German melodies, which the good taste of Luther

supplied: but the Puritans, in a subsequent age, nearly destroyed these

germs of melody, assigning as a reason, that music should be so simplified

as to suit all persons, and that all may join."--_Dr. Gardiner's Music of

Nature_, p. 283.

20. "The schools and colleges of England in the fifteenth and sixteenth

centuries were not governed by a system of education which would render

their students very eminent either as scholars or as gentlemen: and the

monasteries, which were used as seminaries, even until the reformation,

taught only the corrupt Latin used by the ecclesiastics. The time however

was approaching, when the united efforts of Stanbridge, Linacre, Sir John

Cheke, Dean Colet, Erasmus, William Lily, Roger Ascham, &c., were

successful in reviving the Latin tongue in all its purity; and even in

exciting a taste for Greek in a nation the clergy of which opposed its

introduction with the same vehemence which characterized their enmity to a

reformation in religion. The very learned Erasmus, the first who undertook

the teaching of the Greek language at Oxford, met with few friends to

support him; notwithstanding Oxford was the seat of nearly all the learning

in England."--_Constable's Miscellany_, Vol. xx, p. 146.

21. "The priests preached against it, as a very recent invention of the

arch-enemy; and confounding in their misguided zeal, the very foundation of

their faith, with the object of their resentment, they represented the New

Testament itself as 'an impious and dangerous book,' because it was written

in that heretical language. Even after the accession of Henry VIII, when

Erasmus, who had quitted Oxford in disgust, returned under his especial

patronage, with the support of several eminent scholars and powerful

persons, his progress was still impeded, and the language opposed. The

University was divided into parties, called Greeks and Trojans, the latter

being the strongest, from being favoured by the monks; and the Greeks were

driven from the streets, with hisses and other expressions of contempt. It

was not therefore until Henry VIII and Cardinal Wolsey gave it their

positive and powerful protection, that this persecuted language was allowed

to be quietly studied, even in the institutions dedicated to

learning."--_Ib._, p. 147.

22. These curious extracts are adduced to show the _spirit of the times_,

and the obstacles then to be surmounted in the cause of learning. This

popular opposition to Greek, did not spring from a patriotic design to

prefer and encourage English literature; for the improvement of this was

still later, and the great promoters of it were all of them classical

scholars. They wrote in English, not because they preferred it, but because

none but those who were bred in colleges, could read any thing else; and,

even to this very day, the grammatical study of the English language is

shamefully neglected in what are called the higher institutions of

learning. In alleging this neglect, I speak comparatively. Every student,

on entering upon the practical business of life, will find it of far more

importance to him, to be skillful in the language of his own country than

to be distinguished for any knowledge which the learned only can

appreciate. "Will the greatest Mastership in Greek and Latin, or [the]

translating [of] these Languages into English, avail for the Purpose of

acquiring an elegant English Style? No--we know just the Reverse from

woeful Experience! And, as Mr. Locke and the Spectator observe, Men who

have threshed hard at Greek and Latin for ten or eleven years together, are

very often deficient in their own Language."--_Preface to the British

Gram._, 8vo, 1784, p. xxi.

23. That the progress of English literature in early times was slow, will

not seem wonderful to those who consider what is affirmed of the progress

of other arts, more immediately connected with the comforts of life. "Down

to the reign of Elizabeth, the greater part of the houses in considerable

towns, had no chimneys: the fire was kindled against the wall, and the

smoke found its way out as well as it could, by the roof, the door, or the

windows. The houses were mostly built of wattling, plastered over with

clay; and the beds were only straw pallets, with a log of wood for a

pillow. In this respect, even the king fared no better than his subjects;

for, in Henry the Eighth's time, we find directions, 'to examine every

night the straw of the king's bed, that no daggers might be concealed

therein.' A writer in 1577, speaking of the progress of luxury, mentions

three things especially, that were 'marvellously altered for the worse in

England;' the multitude of chimneys lately erected, the increase of

lodgings, and the exchange of treen platters into pewter, and wooden spoons

into silver and tin; and he complains bitterly that oak instead of willow

was employed in the building of houses."--REV. ROYAL ROBBINS: _Outlines of

History_, p. 377.

24. Shakspeare appeared in the reign of Elizabeth; outlived her thirteen

years; and died in 1616 aged 52. The English language in his hands did not

lack power or compass of expression. His writings are now more extensively

read, than any others of that age; nor has any very considerable part of

his phraseology yet become obsolete. But it ought to be known, that the

printers or editors of the editions which are now read, have taken

extensive liberty in modernizing his orthography, as well as that of other

old authors still popular. How far such liberty is justifiable, it is

difficult to say. Modern readers doubtless find a convenience in it. It is

very desirable that the orthography of our language should be made uniform,

and remain permanent. Great alterations cannot be suddenly introduced; and

there is, in stability, an advantage which will counterbalance that of a

slow approximation to regularity. Analogy may sometimes decide the form of

variable words, but the concurrent usage of the learned must ever be

respected, in this, as in every other part of grammar.

25. Among the earliest of the English grammarians, was Ben Jonson, the

poet; who died in the year 1637, at the age of sixty-three. His grammar,

(which Horne Tooke mistakingly calls "the _first_ as well as the _best_

English grammar,") is still extant, being published in the several editions

of his works. It is a small treatise, and worthy of attention only as a

matter of curiosity. It is written in prose, and designed chiefly for the

aid of foreigners. Grammar is an unpoetical subject, and therefore not

wisely treated, as it once very generally was, in verse. But every poet

should be familiar with the art, because the formal principles of his own

have always been considered as embraced in it. To its poets, too, every

language must needs be particularly indebted; because their compositions,

being in general more highly finished than works in prose, are supposed to

present the language in its most agreeable form. In the preface to the

Poems of Edmund Waller, published in 1690, the editor ventures to say, "He

was, indeed, the Parent of English Verse, and the first that shewed us our

Tongue had Beauty and Numbers in it. Our Language owes more to Him, than

the French does to Cardinal Richelieu and the whole Academy. * * * * The

Tongue came into His hands a rough diamond: he polished it first; and to

_that_ degree, that all artists since him have admired the workmanship,

without pretending to mend it."--_British Poets_, Vol. ii, Lond., 1800:

_Waller's Poems_, p. 4.

26. Dr. Johnson, however, in his Lives of the Poets, abates this praise,

that he may transfer the greater part of it to Dryden and Pope. He admits

that, "After about half a century of forced thoughts and rugged metre, some

advances towards nature and harmony had been already made by Waller and

Denham;" but, in distributing the praise of this improvement, he adds, "It

may be doubted whether Waller and Denham could have over-born [_overborne_]

the prejudices which had long prevailed, and which even then were sheltered

by the protection of Cowley. The new versification, as it was called, may

be considered as owing its establishment to Dryden; from whose time it is

apparent that English poetry has had no tendency to relapse to its former

savageness."--_Johnson's Life of Dryden: Lives_, p. 206. To Pope, as the

translator of Homer, he gives this praise: "His version may be said to have

tuned the English tongue; for since its appearance no writer, however

deficient in other powers, has wanted melody."--_Life of Pope: Lives_, p.

567. Such was the opinion of Johnson; but there are other critics who

object to the versification of Pope, that it is "monotonous and cloying."

See, in Leigh Hunt's Feast of the Poets, the following couplet, and a note

upon it:

"But ever since Pope spoil'd the ears of the town

With his cuckoo-song verses half up and half down."

27. The unfortunate Charles I, as well as his father James I, was a lover

and promoter of letters. He was himself a good scholar, and wrote well in

English, for his time: he ascended the throne in 1625, and was beheaded in

1648. Nor was Cromwell himself, with all his religious and military

enthusiasm, wholly insensible to _literary_ merit. This century was

distinguished by the writings of Milton, Dryden, Waller, Cowley, Denham,

Locke, and others; and the reign of Charles II, which is embraced in it,

has been considered by some "the Augustan age of English literature." But

that honour, if it may well be bestowed on any, belongs rather to a later

period. The best works produced in the eighteenth century, are so generally

known and so highly esteemed, that it would be lavish of the narrow space

allowed to this introduction, to speak particularly of their merits. Some

grammatical errors may be found in almost all books; but our language was,

in general, written with great purity and propriety by Addison, Swift,

Pope, Johnson, Lowth, Hume, Horne, and many other celebrated authors who

flourished in the last century. Nor was it much before this period, that

the British writers took any great pains to be accurate in the use of their

own language;

"Late, very late, correctness grew our care,

When the tir'd nation breath'd from civil war."--_Pope_.

28. English books began to be printed in the early part of the sixteenth

century; and, as soon as a taste for reading was formed, the press threw

open the flood-gates of general knowledge, the streams of which are now

pouring forth, in a copious, increasing, but too often turbid tide, upon

all the civilized nations of the earth. This mighty engine afforded a means

by which superior minds could act more efficiently and more extensively

upon society in general. And thus, by the exertions of genius adorned with

learning, our native tongue has been made the polished vehicle of the most

interesting truths, and of the most important discoveries; and has become a

language copious, strong, refined, and capable of no inconsiderable degree

of harmony. Nay, it is esteemed by some who claim to be competent judges,

to be the strongest, the richest, the most elegant, and the most

susceptible of sublime imagery, of all the languages in the world.

CHAPTER VII.

CHANGES AND SPECIMENS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

"Quot enim verba, et nonnunquam in deterius, hoc, quo vivimus, sæculo,

partim aliqâ, partim nullâ necessitate cogente, mutata sunt?"--ROB.

AINSWORTH: _Lat. Dict., 4to_; Præf., p. xi.

1. In the use of language, every one chooses his words from that common

stock which he has learned, and applies them in practice according to his

own habits and notions. If the style of different writers of the same age

is various, much greater is the variety which appears in the productions of

different ages. Hence the date of a book may often be very plausibly

conjectured from the peculiarities of its style. As to what is best in

itself, or best adapted to the subject in hand, every writer must endeavour

to become his own judge. He who, in any sort of composition, would write

with a master's hand, must first apply himself to books with a scholar's

diligence. He must think it worth his while to inform himself, that he may

be critical. Desiring to give the student all the advantage, entertainment,

and satisfaction, that can be expected from a work of this kind, I shall

subjoin a few brief specimens in illustration of what has been said in the

foregoing chapter. The order of time will be followed _inversely_; and, as

Saxon characters are not very easily obtained, or very apt to be read, the

Roman letters will be employed for the few examples to which the others

would be more appropriate. But there are some peculiarities of ancient

usage in English, which, for the information of the young reader, it is

proper in the first place to explain.

2. With respect to the letters, there are _several changes_ to be

mentioned. (1.) The pages of old books are often crowded with capitals: it

was at one time the custom to distinguish all nouns, and frequently verbs,

or any other important words, by heading them with a great letter. (2.) The

letter Ess, of the lower case, had till lately two forms, the long and the

short, as [tall-s] and s; the former very nearly resembling the small f,

and the latter, its own capital. The short _s_ was used _at the end of

words_, and the long _[tall-s]_, in other places; but the latter is now

laid aside, in favour of the more distinctive form. (3.) The letters _I_

and _J_ were formerly considered as one and the same. Hence we find

_hallelujah_ for _halleluiah, Iohn_ for _John, iudgement_ for _judgement_,

&c. And in many dictionaries, the words beginning with _J_ are still mixed

with those which begin with _I_. (4.) The letters _U_ and _V_ were mixed in

like manner, and for the same reason; the latter being a consonant power

given to the former, and at length distinguished from it by a different

form. Or rather, the figure of the capital seems to have been at last

appropriated to the one, and that of the small letter to the other. But in

old books the forms of these two letters are continually confounded or

transposed. Hence it is, that our _Double-u_ is composed of two _Vees_;

which, as we see in old books, were sometimes printed separately: as, VV,

for W; or vv, for w.

3. The _orthography_ of our language, rude and unsettled as it still is in

many respects, was formerly much more variable and diverse. In books a

hundred years old or more, we often find the most common words spelled

variously by the same writer, and even upon the very same page. With

respect to the forms of words, a few particulars may here be noticed: (1.)

The article _an_, from which the _n_ was dropped before words beginning

with a consonant sound, is often found in old books where _a_ would be more

proper; as, _an heart, an help, an hill, an one, an use_. (2.) Till the

seventeenth century, the possessive case was written without the

apostrophe; being formed at different times, in _es, is, ys, or s_, like

the plural; and apparently without rule or uniformity in respect to the

doubling of the final consonant: as _Goddes, Godes, Godis, Godys_, or

_Gods_, for _God's_; so _mannes, mannis, mannys_ or _mans_, for _man's_.

Dr. Ash, whose English Grammar was in some repute in the latter part of the

eighteenth century, argued against the use of the apostrophe, alleging that

it was seldom used to distinguish the possessive case till about the

beginning of that century; and he then prophesied that the time would come,

when _correct writers would lay it aside again_, as a strange corruption,

an improper "departure from the original formation" of that case of English

nouns. And, among the speculations of these latter days, I have somewhere

seen an attempt to disparage this useful sign, and explode it, as an

unsightly thing _never well established_. It does not indeed, like a

syllabic sign, inform the ear or affect the sound; but still it is useful,

because it distinguishes to the eye, not only the _case_, but the _number_,

of the nouns thus marked. Pronouns, being different in their declension, do

not need it, and should therefore always be written without it.

4. The common usage of those who have spoken English, has always inclined

rather to brevity than to melody; contraction and elision of the ancient

terminations of words, constitute no small part of the change which has

taken place, or of the difference which perhaps always existed between the

solemn and the familiar style. In respect to euphony, however, these

terminations have certainly nothing to boast; nor does the earliest period

of the language appear to be that in which they were the most generally

used without contraction. That degree of smoothness of which the tongue was

anciently susceptible, had certainly no alliance with these additional

syllables. The long sonorous endings which constitute the declensions and

conjugations of the most admired languages, and which seem to chime so well

with the sublimity of the Greek, the majesty of the Latin, the sweetness of

the Italian, the dignity of the Spanish, or the polish of the French,

_never had_ any place in English. The inflections given to our words never

embraced any other vowel power than that of the short _e_ or _i_; and even,

this we are inclined to dispense with, whenever we can; so that most of our

grammatical inflections are, to the ear, nothing but consonants blended

with the final syllables of the words to which they are added. _Ing_ for

the first participle, _er_ for the comparative degree, and _est_ for the

superlative, are indeed added as whole syllables; but the rest, as _d_ or

_ed_ for preterits and perfect participles, _s_ or _es_ for the plural

number of nouns, or for the third person singular of verbs, and _st_ or

_est_ for the second person singular of verbs, nine times in ten, fall into

the sound or syllable with which the primitive word terminates. English

verbs, as they are now commonly used, run through their entire conjugation

without acquiring a single syllable from inflection, except sometimes when

the sound of _d, s_, or _st_ cannot be added to them.

5. This simplicity, so characteristic of our modern English, as well as of

the Saxon tongue, its proper parent, is attended with advantages that go

far to compensate for all that is consequently lost in euphony, or in the

liberty of transposition. Our formation of the moods and tenses, by means

of a few separate auxiliaries, all monosyllabic, and mostly without

inflection, is not only simple and easy, but beautiful, chaste, and strong.

In my opinion, our grammarians have shown far more affection for the

obsolete or obsolescent terminations _en, eth, est_, and _edst_, than they

really deserve. Till the beginning of the sixteenth century, _en_ was used

to mark the plural number of verbs, as, _they sayen_ for _they say_; after

which, it appears to have been dropped. Before the beginning of the

seventeenth century, _s_ or _es_ began to dispute with _th_ or _eth_ the

right of forming the third person singular of verbs; and, as the Bible and

other grave books used only the latter, a clear distinction obtained,

between the solemn and the familiar style, which distinction is well known

at this day. Thus we have, _He runs, walks, rides, reaches_, &c., for the

one; and, _He runneth, walketh, rideth, reacheth_, &c., for the other.

About the same time, or perhaps earlier, the use of the second person

singular began to be avoided in polite conversation, by the substitution of

the plural verb and pronoun; and, when used in poetry, it was often

contracted, so as to prevent any syllabic increase. In old books, all verbs

and participles that were intended to be contracted in pronunciation, were

contracted also, in some way, by the writer: as, "_call'd, carry'd,

sacrific'd;" "fly'st, ascrib'st, cryd'st;" "tost, curst, blest, finisht_;"

and others innumerable. All these, and such as are like them, we now

pronounce in the same way, but usually write differently; as, _called,

carried, sacrificed; fliest, ascribest, criettst; tossed, cursed, blessed,

finished_. Most of these topics will be further noticed in the Grammar.

I. ENGLISH OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

6. _Queen Victoria's Answer to an Address.--Example written in 1837_.

"I thank you for your condolence upon the death of his late Majesty, for

the justice which you render to his character, and to the measures of his

reign, and for your warm congratulations upon my accession to the throne. I

join in your prayers for the prosperity of my reign, the best security for

which is to be found in reverence for our holy religion, and in the

observance of its duties."--VICTORIA, _to the Friends' Society_.

7. _From President Adams's Eulogy on Lafayette.--Written in 1834_.

"Pronounce him one of the first men of his age, and you have yet not done

him justice. Try him by that test to which he sought in vain to stimulate

the vulgar and selfish spirit of Napoleon; class him among the men who, to

compare and seat themselves, must take in the compass of all ages; turn

back your eyes upon the records of time; summon from the creation of the

world to this day the mighty dead of every age and every clime; and where,

among the race of merely mortal men, shall one be found, who, as the

benefactor of his kind, shall claim to take precedence of Lafayette?"--JOHN

QUINCY ADAMS.

8. _From President Jackson's Proclamation against Nullification.--1832_.

"No, we have not erred! The Constitution is still the object of our

reverence, the bond of our Union, our defence in danger, the source of our

prosperity in peace. It shall descend, as we have received it, uncorrupted

by sophistical construction, to our posterity: and the sacrifices of local

interest, of State prejudices, of personal animosities, that were made to

bring it into existence, will again be patriotically offered for its

support."--ANDREW JACKSON.

9. _From a Note on one of Robert Hall's Sermons.--Written about 1831_.

"After he had written down the striking apostrophe which occurs at about

page 76 of most of the editions--'Eternal God! on what are thine enemies

intent! what are those enterprises of guilt and horror, that, for the

safety of their performers, require to be enveloped in a darkness which the

eye of Heaven must not _penetrate_!'--he asked, 'Did I say _penetrate_,

sir, when I preached, it?' 'Yes.' 'Do you think, sir, I may venture to

alter it? for no man who considered the force of the English language,

would use a word of three syllables there, but from absolute necessity.'

'You are doubtless at liberty to alter it, if you think well.' 'Then be so

good, sir, as to take your pencil, and for _penetrate_ put _pierce_;

_pierce_ is the word, sir, and the only word to be used there.'"--OLINTHUS

GREGORY.

10. _King William's Answer to an Address.--Example written in 1830_.

"I thank you sincerely for your condolence with me, on account of the loss

which I have sustained, in common with my people, by the death of my

lamented brother, his late Majesty. The assurances which you have conveyed

to me, of loyalty and affectionate attachment to my person, are very

gratifying to my feelings. You may rely upon my favour and protection, and

upon my anxious endeavours to promote morality and true piety among all

classes of my subjects."--WILLIAM IV, _to the Friends_.

11. _Reign of George IV, 1830 back to 1820.--Example written in 1827_.

"That morning, thou, that slumbered[48] not before,

Nor slept, great Ocean I laid thy waves to rest,

And hushed thy mighty minstrelsy. No breath

Thy deep composure stirred, no fin, no oar;

Like beauty newly dead, so calm, so still,

So lovely, thou, beneath the light that fell

From angel-chariots sentinelled on high,

Reposed, and listened, and saw thy living change,

Thy dead arise. Charybdis listened, and Scylla;

And savage Euxine on the Thracian beach

Lay motionless: and every battle ship

Stood still; and every ship of merchandise,

And all that sailed, of every name, stood still."

ROBERT POLLOK: _Course of Time_, Book VII, line 634-647.

II. ENGLISH OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

12. _Reign of George III, 1820 back to 1760.--Example written in 1800_.

"There is, it will be confessed, a delicate sensibility to character, a

sober desire of reputation, a wish to possess the esteem of the wise and

good, felt by the purest minds, which is at the farthest remove from

arrogance or vanity. The humility of a noble mind scarcely dares approve of

itself, until it has secured the approbation of others. Very different is

that restless desire of distinction, that passion for theatrical display,

which inflames the heart and occupies the whole attention of vain men. * *

* The truly good man is jealous over himself, lest the notoriety of his

best actions, by blending itself with their motive, should diminish their

value; the vain man performs the same actions for the sake of that

notoriety. The good man quietly discharges his duty, and shuns ostentation;

the vain man considers every good deed lost that is not publickly

displayed. The one is intent upon realities, the other upon semblances: the

one aims to _be_ virtuous, the other to _appear_ so."--ROBERT HALL: _Sermon

on Modern Infidelity_.

13. _From Washington's Farewell Address.--Example written in 1796_.

"Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity,

Religion and Morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man

claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labour to subvert these great

pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and

citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect

and cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connexions with

private and publick felicity. Let it simply be asked, where is the security

for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious

obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investigation in

courts of justice? And let us with caution indulge the supposition, that

morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to

the influence of refined education on minds of a peculiar structure; reason

and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail

in exclusion of religious principle."--GEORGE WASHINGTON.

14. _From Dr. Johnson's Life of Addison.--Example written about 1780_.

"That he always wrote as he would think it necessary to write now, cannot

be affirmed; his instructions were such as the character of his readers

made proper. That general knowledge which now circulates in common talk,

was in his time rarely to be found. Men not professing learning, were not

ashamed of ignorance; and in the female world, any acquaintance with books

was distinguished only to be censured. His purpose was to infuse literary

curiosity, by gentle and unsuspected conveyance, into the gay, the idle,

and the wealthy; he therefore presented knowledge in the most alluring

form, not lofty and austere, but accessible and familiar. When he shewed

them their defects, he shewed them likewise that they might easily be

supplied. His attempt succeeded; inquiry was awakened, and comprehension

expanded. An emulation of intellectual elegance was excited, and from this

time to our own, life has been gradually exalted, and conversation purified

and enlarged."--SAMUEL JOHNSON: _Lives_, p. 321.

15. _Reign of George II, 1760 back to 1727.--Example written in 1751_.

"We Britons in our time have been remarkable borrowers, as our _multiform_

Language may sufficiently shew. Our Terms in _polite Literature_ prove,

that this came from _Greece_; our terms in _Music_ and _Painting_, that

these came from Italy; our Phrases in _Cookery_ and _War_, that we learnt

these from the French; and our phrases in _Navigation_, that we were taught

by the _Flemings_ and _Low Dutch_. These many and very different Sources of

our Language may be the cause, why it is so deficient in _Regularity_ and

_Analogy_. Yet we have this advantage to compensate the defect, that what

we want in _Elegance_, we gain in _Copiousness_, in which last respect few

Languages will be found superior to our own."--JAMES HARRIS: _Hermes_, Book

iii, Ch. v, p. 408.

16. _Reign of George I, 1727 back to 1714.--Example written about 1718_.

"There is a certain coldness and indifference in the phrases of our

European languages, when they are compared with the Oriental forms of

speech: and it happens very luckily, that the Hebrew idioms ran into the

English tongue, with a particular grace and beauty. Our language has

received innumerable elegancies and improvements from that infusion of

Hebraisms, which are derived to it out of the poetical passages in holy

writ. They give a force and energy to our expressions, warm and animate our

language, and convey our thoughts in more ardent and intense phrases, than

any that are to be met with in our tongue."--JOSEPH ADDISON: _Evidences_,

p. 192.

17. _Reign of Queen Anne, 1714 to 1702.--Example written in 1708_.

"Some by old words to Fame have made pretence,

Ancients in phrase, mere moderns in their sense;

Such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style,

Amaze th' unlearn'd, and make the learned smile."

"In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold;

Alike fantastick, if too new or old:

Be not the first by whom the new are try'd,

Nor yet the last to lay the old aside."

ALEXANDER POPE: _Essay on Criticism_, l. 324-336.

III. ENGLISH OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.

18. _Reign of William III, 1702 to 1689.--Example published in 1700_.

"And when we see a Man of _Milton's_ Wit _Chime_ in with such a _Herd_, and

Help on the _Cry_ against _Hirelings_! We find How Easie it is for _Folly_

and _Knavery_ to Meet, and that they are Near of Kin, tho they bear

Different Aspects. Therefor since _Milton_ has put himself upon a _Level_

with the _Quakers_ in this, I will let them go together. And take as little

Notice of his _Buffoonry_, as of their _Dulness_ against _Tythes_. Ther is

nothing worth _Quoting_ in his _Lampoon_ against the _Hirelings_. But what

ther is of _Argument_ in it, is fully Consider'd in what follows."--CHARLES

LESLIE: _Divine Right of Tithes, Pref._, p. xi.

19. _Reign of James II, 1689 back to 1685.--Example written in 1685._

"His conversation, wit, and parts,

His knowledge in the noblest useful arts,

Were such, dead authors could not give;

But habitudes of those who live;

Who, lighting him, did greater lights receive:

He drain'd from all, and all they knew;

His apprehension quick, his judgment true:

That the most learn'd with shame confess

His knowledge more, his reading only less."

JOHN DRYDEN: _Ode to the Memory of Charles II; Poems_, p. 84.

20. _Reign of Charles II, 1685 to 1660.--Example from a Letter to the Earl

of Sunderland, dated, "Philadelphia, 28th 5th mo. July, 1683."_

"And I will venture to say, that by the help of God, and such noble

Friends, I will show a Province in seven years, equal to her neighbours of

forty years planting. I have lay'd out the Province into Countys. Six are

begun to be seated; they lye on the great river, and are planted about six

miles back. The town platt is a mile long, and two deep,--has a navigable

river on each side, the least as broad as the Thames at Woolwych, from

three to eight fathom water. There is built about eighty houses, and I have

settled at least three hundred farmes contiguous to it."--WILLIAM PENN.

_The Friend_, Vol. vii, p. 179.

21. _From an Address or Dedication to Charles II.--Written in 1675_.

"There is no [other] king in the world, who can so experimentally testify

of God's providence and goodness; neither is there any [other], who rules

so many free people, so many true Christians: which thing renders thy

government more honourable, thyself more considerable, than the accession

of many nations filled with slavish and superstitious souls."--ROBERT

BARCLAY: _Apology_, p. viii.

22. The following example, from the commencement of _Paradise Lost_, first

published in 1667, has been cited by several authors, to show how large a

proportion of our language is of Saxon origin. The thirteen words in

Italics are the only ones in this passage, which seem to have been derived

from any other source.

"Of man's first _disobedience_, and the _fruit_

Of that forbidden tree, whose _mortal_ taste

Brought death into the world, and all our woe,

With loss of _Eden_; till one greater Man

_Restore_ us, and _regain_ the blissful _seat_,

Sing, heav'nly _Muse_, that on the _secret_ top

Of _Oreb_, or of _Sinai_, didst _inspire_

That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed,

In the beginning, how the Heav'ns and Earth

Rose out of _Chaos_."--MILTON: _Paradise Lost_, Book I.

23. _Examples written during Cromwell's Protectorate, 1660 to 1650_.

"The Queene was pleased to shew me the letter, the seale beinge a Roman

eagle, havinge characters about it almost like the Greeke. This day, in the

afternoone, the vice-chauncellor came to me and stayed about four hours

with me; in which tyme we conversed upon the longe debates."--WHITELOCKE.

_Bucke's Class. Gram._, p. 149.

"I am yet heere, and have the States of Holland ingaged in a more than

ordnary maner, to procure me audience of the States Generall. Whatever

happen, the effects must needes be good."--STRICKLAND: _Bucke's Classical

Gram._, p. 149.

24. _Reign of Charles I, 1648 to 1625.--Example from Ben Jonson's Grammar,

written about 1634; but the orthography is more modern_.

"The second and third person singular of the present are made of the first,

by adding _est_ and _eth_; which last is sometimes shortened into _s_. It

seemeth to have been poetical licence which first introduced this

abbreviation of the third person into use; but our best grammarians have

condemned it upon some occasions, though perhaps not to be absolutely

banished the common and familiar style."

"The persons plural keep the termination of the first person singular. In

former times, till about the reign of Henry the eighth, they were wont to

be formed by adding _en_; thus, _loven, sayen, complainen_. But now

(whatever is the cause) it hath quite grown out of use, and that other so

generally prevailed, that I dare not presume to set this afoot again:

albeit (to tell you my opinion) I am persuaded that the lack hereof well

considered, will be found a great blemish to our tongue. For seeing _time_

and _person_ be, as it were, the right and left hand of a verb, what can

the maiming bring else, but a lameness to the whole body?"--Book i, Chap.

xvi.

25. _Reign of James I, 1625 to 1603.--From an Advertisement, dated 1608_.

"I svppose it altogether needlesse (Christian Reader) by commending M.

_VVilliam Perkins_, the Author of this booke, to wooe your holy affection,

which either himselfe in his life time by his Christian conversation hath

woon in you, or sithence his death, the neuer-dying memorie of his

excellent knowledge, his great humilitie, his sound religion, his feruent

zeale, his painefull labours, in the Church of God, doe most iustly

challenge at your hands: onely in one word, I dare be bold to say of him as

in times past _Nazianzen_ spake of _Athanasius_. His life was a good

definition of a true minister and preacher of the Gospell."--_The Printer

to the Reader_.

26. _Examples written about the end of Elizabeth's reign--1603_.

"Some say, That euer 'gainst that season comes

Wherein our Saviour's Birth is celebrated,

The Bird of Dawning singeth all night long;

And then, say they, no Spirit dares walk abroad:

The nights are wholsom, then no Planets strike,

No Fairy takes, nor Witch hath pow'r to charm;

So hallow'd and so gracious is the time."

SHAKSPEARE: _Hamlet_.

"The sea, with such a storme as his bare head

In hell-blacke night indur'd, would haue buoy'd up

And quench'd the stelled fires.

Yet, poore old heart, he holpe the heuens to raine.

If wolues had at thy gate howl'd that sterne time,

Thou shouldst haue said, Good porter, turne the key."

SHAKSPEARE: _Lear_.

IV. ENGLISH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

27. _Reign of Elizabeth, 1603 back to 1558.--Example written in 1592_.

"As for the soule, it is no accidentarie qualitie, but a spirituall and

inuisible essence or nature, subsisting by it selfe. Which plainely

appeares in that the soules of men haue beeing and continuance as well

forth of the bodies of men as in the same; and are as wel subiect to

torments as the bodie is. And whereas we can and doe put in practise

sundrie actions of life, sense, motion, vnderstanding, we doe it onely by

the power and vertue of the soule. Hence ariseth the difference betweene

the soules of men, and beasts. The soules of men are substances: but the

soules of other creatures seeme not to be substances; because they haue no

beeing out of the bodies in which they are."--WILLIAM PERKINS: _Theol.

Works, folio_, p. 155.

28. _Examples written about the beginning of Elizabeth's reign.--1558_.

"Who can perswade, when treason is aboue reason; and mighte ruleth righte;

and it is had for lawfull, whatsoever is lustfull; and commotioners are

better than commissioners; and common woe is named common weale?"--SIR JOHN

CHEKE. "If a yong jentleman will venture him selfe into the companie of

ruffians, it is over great a jeopardie, lest their facions, maners,

thoughts, taulke, and dedes, will verie sone be over like."--ROGER ASCHAM.

29. _Reign of Mary the Bigot, 1558 to 1553.--Example written about 1555_.

"And after that Philosophy had spoken these wordes the said companye of the

musys poeticall beynge rebukyd and sad, caste downe their countenaunce to

the grounde, and by blussyng confessed their shamefastnes, and went out of

the dores. But I (that had my syght dull and blynd wyth wepyng, so that I

knew not what woman this was hauyng soo great aucthoritie) was amasyd or

astonyed, and lokyng downeward, towarde the ground, I began pryvyle to look

what thyng she would save ferther."--COLVILLE: _Version from Boëthius:

Johnson's Hist. of E. L._, p. 29.

30. _Example referred by Dr. Johnson to the year 1553_.

"Pronunciation is an apte orderinge bothe of the voyce, countenaunce, and

all the whole bodye, accordynge to the worthinea of such woordes and mater

as by speache are declared. The vse hereof is suche for anye one that

liketh to haue prayse for tellynge his tale in open assemblie, that hauing

a good tongue, and a comelye countenaunce, he shal be thought to passe all

other that haue not the like vtteraunce: thoughe they have muche better

learning."--DR. WILSON: _Johnson's Hist. E. L._, p. 45.

31. _Reign of Edward VI, 1553 to 1547.--Example written about 1550._

"Who that will followe the graces manyfolde

Which are in vertue, shall finde auauncement:

Wherefore ye fooles that in your sinne are bolde,

Ensue ye wisdome, and leaue your lewde intent,

Wisdome is the way of men most excellent:

Therefore haue done, and shortly spede your pace,

To quaynt your self and company with grace."

ALEXANDER BARCLAY: _Johnson's Hist. E. L._, p. 44.

32. _Reign of Henry VIII, 1547 to 1509.--Example dated 1541_.

"Let hym that is angry euen at the fyrste consyder one of these thinges,

that like as he is a man, so is also the other, with whom he is angry, and

therefore it is as lefull for the other to be angry, as unto hym: and if he

so be, than shall that anger be to hym displeasant, and stere hym more to

be angrye."--SIR THOMAS ELLIOTT: _Castel of Helthe_.

33. _Example of the earliest English Blank Verse; written about 1540_.

The supposed author died in 1541, aged 38. The piece from which these lines

are taken describes the death of _Zoroas_, an Egyptian astronomer, slain in

Alexander's first battle with the Persians.

"The Persians waild such sapience to foregoe;

And very sone the Macedonians wisht

He would have lived; king Alexander selfe

Demde him a man unmete to dye at all;

Who wonne like praise for conquest of his yre,

As for stoute men in field that day subdued,

Who princes taught how to discerne a man,

That in his head so rare a jewel beares;

But over all those same Camenes,[49] those same

Divine Camenes, whose honour he procurde,

As tender parent doth his daughters weale,

Lamented, and for thankes, all that they can,

Do cherish hym deceast, and sett hym free,

From dark oblivion of devouring death."

_Probably written by SIR THOMAS WYAT._

34. _A Letter written from prison, with a coal._ The writer, _Sir Thomas

More_, whose works, both in prose and verse, were considered models of pure

and elegant style, had been Chancellor of England, and the familiar

confidant of Henry VIII, by whose order he was beheaded in 1535.

"Myne own good doughter, our Lorde be thanked I am in good helthe of bodye,

and in good quiet of minde: and of worldly thynges I no more desyer then I

haue. I beseche hym make you all mery in the hope of heauen. And such

thynges as I somewhat longed to talke with you all, concerning the worlde

to come, our Lorde put theim into your myndes, as I truste he doth and

better to by hys holy spirite: who blesse you and preserue you all. Written

wyth a cole by your tender louing father, who in hys pore prayers

forgetteth none of you all, nor your babes, nor your nources, nor your good

husbandes, nor your good husbandes shrewde wyues, nor your fathers shrewde

wyfe neither, nor our other frendes. And thus fare ye hartely well for

lacke of paper. THOMAS MORE, knight."--_Johnson's Hist. E. Lang._, p. 42.

35. _From More's Description of Richard III.--Probably written about 1520._

"Richarde the third sonne, of whom we nowe entreate, was in witte and

courage egall with either of them, in bodye and prowesse farre vnder them

bothe, little of stature, ill fetured of limmes, croke backed, his left

shoulder much higher than his right, hard fauoured of visage, and such as

is in states called warlye, in other menne otherwise, he was malicious,

wrathfull, enuious, and from afore his birth euer frowarde. * * * Hee was

close and secrete, a deep dissimuler, lowlye of counteynaunce, arrogant of

heart--dispitious and cruell, not for euill will alway, but after for

ambicion, and either for the suretie and encrease of his estate. Frende and

foo was muche what indifferent, where his aduauntage grew, he spared no

mans deathe, whose life withstoode his purpose. He slew with his owne

handes king Henry the sixt, being prisoner in the Tower."--SIR THOMAS MORE:

_Johnson's History of the English Language_, p. 39.

36. _From his description of Fortune, written about the year 1500._

"Fortune is stately, solemne, prowde, and hye:

And rychesse geueth, to haue seruyce therefore.

The nedy begger catcheth an half peny:

Some manne a thousaude pounde, some lesse some more.

But for all that she kepeth euer in store,

From euery manne some parcell of his wyll,

That he may pray therefore and serve her styll.

Some manne hath good, but chyldren hath he none.

Some manne hath both, but he can get none health.

Some hath al thre, but vp to honours trone,

Can he not crepe, by no maner of stelth.

To some she sendeth chyldren, ryches, welthe,

Honour, woorshyp, and reuerence all hys lyfe:

But yet she pyncheth hym with a shrewde wife."

SIR THOMAS MORE.

V. ENGLISH OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.

37. _Example for the reign of Henry VII, who was crowned on Bosworth field,

1485, and who died in 1509._

"Wherefor and forasmoche as we haue sent for our derrest wif, and for our

derrest moder, to come unto us, and that we wold have your advis and

counsail also in soche matters as we haue to doo for the subduying of the

rebelles, we praie you, that, yeving your due attendaunce vppon our said

derrest wif and lady moder, ye come with thaym unto us; not failing herof

as ye purpose to doo us plaisir. Yeven undre our signett, at our Castell of

Kenelworth, the xiii daie of Maye."--HENRY VII: _Letter to the Earl of

Ormond: Bucke's Classical Gram._, p. 147.

38. _Example for the short reign of Richard III,--from 1485 to 1483._

"Right reverend fader in God, right trusty and right wel-beloved, we grete

yow wele, and wol and charge you that under oure greate seale, being in

your warde, ye do make in all haist our lettres of proclamation severally

to be directed unto the shirrefs of everie countie within this oure

royaume."--RICHARD III: _Letter to his Chancellor._

39. _Reign of Edward IV,--from 1483 to 1461.--Example written in 1463._

"Forasmoche as we by divers meanes bene credebly enformed and undarstand

for certyne, that owr greate adversary Henry, naminge hym selfe kynge of

England, by the maliceous counseyle and exitacion of Margaret his wife,

namynge hir selfe queane of England, have conspired," &c.--EDWARD IV:

_Letter of Privy Seal_.

40. _Examples for the reign of Henry VI,--from 1461 back to 1422._

"When Nembroth [i.e. _Nimrod_] by Might, for his own Glorye, made and

incorporate the first Realme, and subduyd it to hymself by Tyrannye, he

would not have it governyd by any other Rule or Lawe, but by his own Will;

by which and for th' accomplishment thereof he made it. And therefor,

though he had thus made a Realme, holy Scripture denyd to cal hym a Kyng,

_Quia Rex dicitur a Regendo_; Whych thyng he did not, but oppressyd the

People by Myght."--SIR JOHN FORTESCUE.

41. _Example from Lydgate, a poetical Monk, who died in 1440._

"Our life here short of wit the great dulnes

The heuy soule troubled with trauayle,

And of memorye the glasyng brotelnes,

Drede and vncunning haue made a strong batail

With werines my spirite to assayle,

And with their subtil creping in most queint

Hath made my spirit in makyng for to feint."

JOHN LYDGATE: _Fall of Princes_, Book III, Prol.

42. _Example for the reign of Henry V,--from 1422 back to 1413._

"I wolle that the Duc of Orliance be kept stille withyn the Castil of

Pontefret, with owte goyng to Robertis place, or to any other disport, it

is better he lak his disport then we were disceyved. Of all the remanant

dothe as ye thenketh."--_Letter of_ HENRY V.

43. _Example for the reign of Henry IV,--from 1413 back to 1400._

"Right heigh and myghty Prynce, my goode and gracious Lorde,--I recommaund

me to you as lowly as I kan or may with all my pouer hert, desiryng to hier

goode and gracious tydynges of your worshipful astate and welfare."--LORD

GREY: _Letter to the Prince of Wales: Bucke's Classical Gram._, p. 145.

VI. ENGLISH OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY.

44. _Reign of Richard II, 1400 back to 1377.--Example written in 1391._

"Lytel Lowys my sonne, I perceve well by certaine evidences thyne abylyte

to lerne scyences, touching nombres and proporcions, and also well consydre

I thy besye prayer in especyal to lerne the tretyse of the _astrolabye_.

Than for as moche as a philosopher saithe, he wrapeth hym in his frende,

that condiscendeth to the ryghtfull prayers of his frende: therefore I have

given the a sufficient astrolabye for oure orizont, compowned after the

latitude of Oxenforde: vpon the whiche by meditacion of this lytell

tretise, I purpose to teche the a certame nombre of conclusions,

pertainynge to this same instrument."--GEOFFREY CHAUCER: _Of the

Astrolabe_.

45. _Example written about 1385--to be compared with that of 1555, on p.

87_.

"And thus this companie of muses iblamed casten wrothly the chere dounward

to the yerth, and shewing by rednesse their shame, thei passeden sorowfully

the thresholde. And I of whom the sight plounged in teres was darked, so

that I ne might not know what that woman was, of so Imperial aucthoritie, I

woxe all abashed and stonied, and cast my sight doune to the yerth, and

began still for to abide what she would doen afterward."--CHAUCER: _Version

from Boëthius: Johnson's Hist. of E. L._, p. 29.

46. _Poetical Example--probably written before 1380_.

"O Socrates, thou stedfast champion;

She ne might nevir be thy turmentour,

Thou nevir dreddist her oppression,

Ne in her chere foundin thou no favour,

Thou knewe wele the disceipt of her colour,

And that her moste worship is for to lie,

I knowe her eke a false dissimulour,

For finally Fortune I doe defie."--CHAUCER.

47. _Reign of Edward III, 1377 to 1327.--Example written about 1360_.

"And eke full ofte a littell skare

Vpon a banke, er men be ware,

Let in the streme, whiche with gret peine,

If any man it shall restreine.

Where lawe failleth, errour groweth;

He is not wise, who that ne troweth."--SIR JOHN GOWER.

48. _Example from Mandeville, the English traveller--written in 1356_.

"And this sterre that is toward the Northe, that wee clepen the lode

sterre, ne apperethe not to hem. For whiche cause, men may wel perceyve,

that the lond and the see ben of rownde schapp and forme. For the partie of

the firmament schewethe in o contree, that schewethe not in another

contree. And men may well preven be experience and sotyle compassement of

wytt, that zif a man fond passages be schippes, that wolde go to serchen

the world, men mighte go be schippe all aboute the world, and aboven and

benethen. The whiche thing I prove thus, aftre that I have seyn. * * * Be

the whiche I seye zou certeynly, that men may envirowne alle the erthe of

alle the world, as wel undre as aboven, and turnen azen to his contree,

that hadde companye and schippynge and conduyt: and alle weyes he scholde

fynde men, londes, and yles, als wel as in this contree."--SIR JOHN

MANDEVILLE; _Johnson's Hist. of E. L._, p. 26.

49. _Example from Rob. Langland's "Vision of Pierce Ploughman," 1350_.

"In the somer season,

When hot was the Sun,

I shope me into shroubs,

As I a shepe were;

In habit as an harmet,

Vnholy of werkes,

Went wyde in this world

Wonders to heare."

50. _Description of a Ship--referred to the reign of Edward II: 1327-1307_.

"Such ne saw they never none,

For it was so gay begone,

Every nayle with gold ygrave,

Of pure gold was his sklave,

Her mast was of ivory,

Of samyte her sayle wytly,

Her robes all of whyte sylk,

As whyte as ever was ony mylke.

The noble ship was without

With clothes of gold spread about

And her loft and her wyndlace

All of gold depaynted was."

ANONYMOUS: _Bucke's Gram._, p. 143.

51. _From an Elegy on Edward I, who reigned till 1307 from 1272_.

"Thah mi tonge were made of stel,

Ant min herte yzote of bras,

The goodness myht y never telle,

That with kyng Edward was:

Kyng, as thou art cleped conquerour,

In uch battaille thou hadest prys;

God bringe thi soule to the honour,

That ever wes ant ever ys.

Now is Edward of Carnavan

Kyng of Engelond al aplyght;

God lete him never be worse man

Then his fader, ne lasse myht,

To holden his pore men to ryht,

Ant understonde good counsail,

Al Engelond for to wysse and dyht;

Of gode knyhtes darh him nout fail."

ANON.: _Percy's Reliques_, Vol. ii, p. 10.

VII. ENGLISH OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY.

52. _Reign of Henry III, 1272 to 1216.--Example from an old ballad entitled

Richard of Almaigne_; which Percy says was "made by one of the adherents of

Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester, soon after the battle of Lewes, which

was fought, May 14, 1264."--_Percy's Reliques_, Vol. ii.

"Sitteth alle stille, and herkneth to me;

The kyng of Almaigne, bi mi leaute,

Thritti thousent pound askede he

For te make the pees in the countre,

Ant so he dude more.

Richard, thah thou be ever trichard,

Trichten shalt thou never more."

53. In the following examples, I substitute Roman letters for the Saxon. At

this period, we find the characters mixed. The style here is that which

Johnson calls "a kind of intermediate diction, neither Saxon nor English."

Of these historical rhymes, by _Robert of Gloucester_, the Doctor gives us

more than two hundred lines; but he dates them no further than to say,

that the author "is placed by the criticks in the thirteenth

century."--_Hist. of Eng. Lang._, p. 24.

"Alfred thys noble man, as in the ger of grace he nom

Eygte hondred and syxty and tuelue the kyndom.

Arst he adde at Rome ybe, and, vor ys grete wysdom,

The pope Leo hym blessede, tho he thuder com,

And the kynges croune of hys lond, that in this lond gut ys:

And he led hym to be kyng, ar he kyng were y wys.

An he was kyng of Engelond, of alle that ther come,

That vorst thus ylad was of the pope of Rome,

An suththe other after hym of the erchebyssopes echon."

"Clere he was god ynou, and gut, as me telleth me,

He was more than ten ger old, ar he couthe ys abece.

Ac ys gode moder ofte smale gyftes hym tok,

Vor to byleue other pie, and loky on ys boke.

So that by por clergye ys rygt lawes he wonde,

That neuere er nere y mad to gouerny ys lond."

ROBERT OF GLOUCESTER: _Johnson's Hist. of E. L._, p. 25.

54. _Reign of John_, 1216 _back to_ 1199.--_Subject of Christ's

Crucifixion_.

"I syke when y singe for sorewe that y se

When y with wypinge bihold upon the tre,

Ant se Jhesu the suete ys hert blod for-lete

For the love of me;

Ys woundes waxen wete, thei wepen, still and mete,

Marie reweth me."

ANON.: _Bucke's Gram._, p. 142.

VIII. ENGLISH, OR ANGLO-SAXON, OF THE TWELFTH CENTURY.

55. _Reign of Richard I, 1199 back to 1189.--Owl and Nightingale_.

"Ich was in one sumere dale,

In one snive digele pale,

I herde ich hold grete tale,

An hule and one nightingale.

That plait was stif I stare and strong,

Sum wile softe I lud among.

An other again other sval

I let that wole mod ut al.

I either seide of otheres custe,

That alere worste that hi wuste

I hure and I hure of others songe

Hi hold plaidung futhe stronge."

ANON.: _Bucke's Gram._, p. 142.

56. _Reign of Henry II, 1189 back to 1154.--Example dated 1180_.

"And of alle than folke

The wuneden ther on folde,

Wes thisses landes folke

Leodene hendest itald;

And alswa the wimmen

Wunliche on heowen."

GODRIC: _Bucke's Gram._, p. 141.

57. _Example from the Saxon Chronicle, written about 1160_.

"Micel hadde Henri king gadered gold & syluer, and na god ne dide me for

his saule thar of. Tha the king Stephne to Engla-land com, tha macod he his

gadering æt Oxene-ford, & thar he nam the biscop Roger of Seres-beri, and

Alexander biscop of Lincoln, & te Canceler Roger hife neues, & dide ælle in

prisun, til hi jafen up here castles. Tha the suikes undergæton that he

milde man was & softe & god, & na justise ne dide; tha diden hi alle

wunder." See _Johnson's Hist. of the Eng. Language_, p. 22.

58. _Reign of Stephen, 1154 to 1135.--Example written about this time_.

"Fur in see bi west Spaygne.

Is a lond ihone Cokaygne.

There nis lond under heuenriche.

Of wel of godnis hit iliche.

Thoy paradis be miri and briyt.

Cokaygne is of fairer siyt.

What is ther in paradis.

Bot grasse and flure and greneris.

Thoy ther be ioi and gret dute.

Ther nis met bot ænlic frute.

Ther nis halle bure no bench.

Bot watir manis thurst to quench."

ANON.: _Johnson's Hist. Eng. Lang._, p. 23.

59. _Reign of Henry I, 1135 to 1100.--Part of an Anglo-Saxon Hymn_.

"Heuene & erthe & all that is,

Biloken is on his honde.

He deth al that his wille is,

On sea and ec on londe.

He is orde albuten orde.

And ende albuten ende.

He one is eure on eche stede,

Wende wer thu wende.

He is buuen us and binethen,

Biuoren and ec bihind.

Se man that Godes wille deth,

He mai hine aihwar uinde.

Eche rune he iherth,

And wot eche dede.

He durh sighth eches ithanc,

Wai hwat sel us to rede.

Se man neure nele don god,

Ne neure god lif leden,

Er deth & dom come to his dure,

He mai him sore adreden.