Lectures on Language, as Particularly Connected with English Grammar.

I would insist, however, on the facts to which your attention has been given, for it is impossible, as I have before contended, to use language correctly without a knowledge of the things and ideas it is employed to represent.

Grovelling, indeed, must be the mind which will not trace the sublime exhibitions of Divine power and skill in all the operations of nature; and false must be that theory which teaches the young mind to think and speak of neutrality as attached to things which do exist. As low and debasing as the speculations of the schoolmen were, they gave to things which they conceived to be incapable of action, a principle which they called "vis inertiæ," or, power to lie still. Shall our systems of instruction descend below them, throw an insurmountable barrier in the way of human improvement, and teach the false principles that actions can exist without an effect, or that there is a class of words which "express neither action or passion." Such a theory is at war with the first principles of philosophy, and denies that "like causes produce like effects."

The ablest minds have never been able to explain the foundation of a "neuter verb," or to find a single word, with a solitary exception, which does not, in certain conditions, express a positive action, and terminate on a definite object; and that exception we shall see refers to a verb which expresses the highest degree of conceivable action. Still they have insisted on three and some on four kinds of verbs, one expressing action, another passion or suffering, and the third neutrality. We propose to offer a brief review of these distinctions, which have so long perplexed, not only learners, but teachers themselves, and been the fruitful source of much dissention among grammarians.

It is to be hoped you will come up to this work with as great candor as you have heretofore manifested, and as fully resolved to take nothing for granted, because it has been said by good or great men, and to reject nothing because it appears new or singular. Let truth be our object and reason our guide to direct us to it. We can not fail of arriving at safe and correct conclusions.

Mr. Murray tells us that "verbs are of three kinds, active, passive, and neuter. In a note he admits of "active transitive and intransitive verbs," as a subdivision of his first kind. Most of his "improvers" have adopted this distinction, and regard it as of essential importance.

We shall contend, as before expressed, that all verbs are of one kind, that they express action, for the simple yet sublime reason, that every thing acts, at all times, and under every possible condition; according to the true definition of action as understood and employed by all writers on grammar, and natural and moral science. Here we are at issue. Both, contending for principles so opposite, can not be correct. One or the other, however pure the motives, must be attached to a system wrong in theory, and of course pernicious in practice. You are to be the umpires in the case, and, if you are faithful to your trust, you will not be bribed or influenced in the least by the opinions of others. If divested of all former attachments, if free from all prejudice, there can be no doubt of the safety and correctness of your conclusions. But I am apprehensive I expect too much, if I place the new system of grammar on a footing equally favorable in your minds with those you have been taught to respect, as the only true expositions of language, from your childhood up, and which are recommended to you on the authority of the learned and good of many generations. I have to combat early prejudices, and systems long considered as almost sacred. But I have in my favor the common sense of the world, and a feeling of opposition to existing systems, which has been produced, not so much by a detection of their errors, as by a lack of capacity, as the learner verily thought, to understand their profound mysteries. I am, therefore, willing to risk the final decision with you, if you will decide. But I am not willing to have you made the tools of the opposite party, determined, whether convinced or not, to hold to your old neuter verb systems, right or wrong, merely because others are doing so. All I ask is your adoption of what is proved to be undeniably true, and rejection of whatever is found to be false.

Here is where the matter must rest, for it will not be pretended that it is better to teach falsehood because it is ancient and popular, than truth because it is novel. Teachers, in this respect, stand in a most responsible relation to their pupils. They should always insist with an unyielding pertinacity, on the importance of truth, and the evils of error. Every trifling incident, in the course of education, which will serve to show the contrast, should be particularly observed. If an error can be detected in their books, they should be so taught as to be able to correct it; and they should be so inclined as to be willing to do it. They should not be skeptics, however, but close observers, original thinkers, and correct reasoners. It is degrading to the true dignity and independence of man, to submit blindly to any proposition. Freedom of thought is the province of all. Children should be made to breathe the free air of honest inquiry, and to inhale the sweet spirit of truth and charity. They should not study their books as the end of learning, but as a means of knowing. Books should be regarded as lamps, which are set by the way side, not as the objects to be looked at, but the aids by which we may find the object of our search. Knowledge and usefulness constitute the leading motives in all study, and no occasion should be lost, no means neglected, which will lead the young mind to their possession.

Your attention is now invited to some critical remarks on the distinctions usually observed in the use of verbs. Let us carefully examine the meaning of these three kinds and see if there is any occasion for such a division; if they have any foundation in truth, or application in the correct use of language. We will follow the arrangements adopted by the most popular grammars.

"A verb active expresses an action, and necessarily implies an agent, and an object acted upon; as, to love, I love Penelope." A very excellent definition, indeed! Had grammarians stopped here, their works would have been understood, and proved of some service in the study of language. But when they diverge from this bright spot in the consideration of verbs—this oasis in the midst of a desert—they soon become lost in the surrounding darkness of conjecture, and follow each their own dim light, to hit on a random track, which to follow in the pursuit of their object.

We give our most hearty assent to the above definition of a verb. It expresses action, which necessarily implies an actor, and an object influenced by the action. In our estimation it matters not whether the object on which the action terminates is expressed or understood. If I love, I must love some object; either my neighbor, my enemy, my family, myself, or something else. In either case the action is the same, tho the objects may be different; and it is regarded, on all hands, as an active verb. Hence when the object on which the action terminates is not expressed, it is necessarily understood. All language is, in this respect, more or less eliptical, which adds much to its richness and brevity.

Active verbs, we are told, are divided into transitive and intransitive. Mr. Murray does not exactly approve of this distinction, but prefers to class the intransitive and neuter together. Others, aware of the fallacy of attempting to make children conceive any thing like neutrality in the verbs, run, fly, walk, live, &c., have preferred to mark the distinction and call them intransitive; because, say they, they do not terminate on any object expressed.

A transitive verb "expresses an action which passes from the agent to the object; as, Cæsar conquered Pompey." To this definition we can not consent. It attempts a distinction where there is none. It is not true in principle, and can not be adopted in practice.

"Cæsar conquered Pompey." Did the act of conquering pass transitively over from Cæsar to Pompey? They might not have seen each other during the whole battle, nor been within many miles of each other. They, each of them, stood at the head of their armies, and alike gave orders to their subordinate officers, and they again to their inferiors, and so down, each man contending valiantly for victory, till, at last, the fate of the day sealed the downfall of Pompey, and placed the crown of triumph on the head of Cæsar. The expression is a correct one, but the action expressed by the verb "conquered," is not transitive, as that term is understood. A whole train of causes was put in operation which finally terminated in the defeat of one, and the conquest of the other.

"Bonaparte lost the battle of Waterloo." What did he do to lose the battle? He exerted his utmost skill to gain the battle and escape defeat. He did not do a single act, he entertained not a single thought, which lead to such a result; but strove against it with all his power. If the fault was his, it was because he failed to act, and not because he labored to lose the battle. He had too much at stake to adopt such a course, and no man but a teacher of grammar, would ever accuse him of acting to lose the battle.

"A man was sick; he desired to recover (his health). He took, for medicine, opium by mistake, and lost his life by it." Was he guilty of suicide? Certainly, if our grammars are true. But he lost his life in trying to get well.

"A man in America possesses property in Europe, and his children inherit it after his death." What do the children do to inherit this property, of which they know nothing?

"The geese, by their gabbling, saved Rome from destruction." How did the geese save the city? They made a noise, which waked the sentinels, who roused the soldiers to arms; they fought, slew many Gauls, and delivered the city.

"A man in New-York transacts business in Canton." How does he do it? He has an agent there to whom he sends his orders, and he transacts the business. But how does he get his letters? The clerk writes them, the postman carries them on board the ship, the captain commands the sailors, who work the ropes which unfurl the sails, the wind blows, the vessel is managed by the pilot, and after a weary voyage of several months, the letters are delivered to the agent, who does the business that is required of him.

The miser denies himself every comfort, and spends his whole life in hoarding up riches; and yet he dies and leaves his gold to be the possession of others.

Christians suffer insults almost every day from the Turks.

Windows admit light and exclude cold.

Who can discover any thing like transitive action—a passing from the agent to the object—in these cases? What transitive action do the windows perform to admit the light; or the christians, to suffer insults; or the miser, to leave his money? If there is neutrality any where, we would look for it here. The fact is, these words express relative action, as we shall explain when we come to the examination of the true character of the verb.

Neutrality signifies (transitive verb!) no action, and neuter verbs express a state of being! A class of words which can not act, which apply to things in a quiescent state, perform the transitive action of "expressing a state of being!"

Who does not perceive the inconsistency and folly of such distinctions? And who has not found himself perplexed, if not completely bewildered in the dark and intricate labyrinths into which he has been led by the false grammar books! Every attempt he has made to extricate himself, by the dim light of the "simplifiers," has only tended to bewilder him still more, till he is utterly confounded, or else abandons the study altogether.

An intransitive verb "denotes action which is confined to the actor, and does not pass over to another object; as, I sit, he lives, they sleep."

"A verb neuter expresses neither action nor passion, but being, or a state of being; as, I am, I sleep, I sit."

These verbs are nearly allied in character; but we will examine them separately and fairly. The examples are the same, with exception of the verb to be, which we will notice by itself, and somewhat at large, in another place.

Our first object will be to ascertain the meaning and use of the words which have been given as samples of neutrality. It is unfortunate for the neuter systems that they can not define a "neuter verb" without making it express an action which terminates on some object.

"The man sits in his chair."

Sits, we are told, is a neuter verb. What does it mean? The man places himself in a sitting posture in his seat. He keeps himself in his chair by muscular energy, assisted by gravitation. The chair upholds him in that condition. Bring a small child and sit it (active verb,) in a chair beside him. Can it sit? No; it falls upon the floor and is injured. Why did it fall? It was not able to keep itself from falling. The lady fainted and fell from her seat. If there is no action in sitting, why did she not remain as she was? A company of ladies and gentlemen from the boarding school and college, entered the parlor of a teacher of neuter verbs; and he asked them to sit down, or be seated. They were neutral. He called them impolite. But they replied, that sit "expresses neither action nor passion," and hence he could not expect them to occupy his seats.

"Sit or set it away; sit near me; sit farther along; sit still;" are expressions used by every teacher in addressing his scholars. On the system we are examining, what would they understand by such inactive expressions? Would he not correct them for disobeying his orders? But what did he order them to do? Nothing at all, if sit denotes no action.

"I sat me down and wept.""He sat him down by a pillar's base,And drew his hand athwart his face."Byron."Then, having shown his wounds, he'd sit him down,And, all the live long day, discourse of war."Tragedy of Douglass."But wherefore sits he there?Death on my state! This act convinces meThat this retiredness of the duke and her,Is plain contempt."King Lear."Sitting, the act of resting on a seat.Session, the act of sitting."Johnson's Dictionary.

"I sleep."

Is sleep a neuter verb? So we are gravely told by our authors. Can grammarians follow their own rules? If so, they may spend the "live long night" and "its waking hours," without resorting to "tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep;" for there is no process under heaven whereby they can procure sleep, unless they sleep it. For one, I can never sleep without sleeping sleep—sometimes only a short nap. It matters not whether the object is expressed or not. The action remains the same. The true object is necessarily understood, and it would be superfluous to name it. Cases, however, often occur where, both in speaking and writing, it becomes indispensable to mention the object. "The stout hearted have slept their sleep." "They shall sleep the sleep of death." "They shall sleep the perpetual sleep, and shall not awake." "Sleep on now and take your rest." The child was troublesome and the mother sung it to sleep, and it slept itself quiet. A lady took opium and slept herself to death. "Many persons sleep themselves into a kind of unnatural stupidity." Rip Van Winkle, according to the legend, slept away a large portion of a common life.

"Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares.""And sleep dull cares away."

Was your sleep refreshing last night? How did you procure it? Let a person who still adheres to his neuter verbs, that sleep expresses no action, and has no object on which it terminates, put his theory in practice; he may as well sleep with his eyes open, sitting up, as to lie himself upon his bed.

A man lodged in an open chamber, and while he was sleeping (doing nothing) he caught a severe cold (active transitive verb) and had a long run of the fever. Who does not see, not only the bad, but also the false philosophy of such attempted distinctions? How can you make a child discover any difference in the act of sleeping, whether there is an object after it, or not? Is it not the same? And is not the object necessarily implied, whether expressed or not? Can a person sleep, without procuring sleep?

"I stand."

The man stands firm in his integrity. Another stands in a very precarious condition, and being unable to retain his hold, falls down the precipice and is killed. Who is killed? The man, surely. Why did he fall? Because he could not stand. But there is no action in standing, say the books.

"Stand by thyself, come not near me?" "Stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made you free, and be not again entangled in the yoke of bondage." "Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." If it requires no act to stand, there can be no danger of falling.

"Two pillars stood together; the rest had fallen to the ground. The one on the right was quite perfect in all its parts. The other resembled it very much, except it had lost its capital, and suffered some other injuries." How could the latter column, while performing no action in standing, act transitively, according to our grammars, and do something to resemble the other? or, what did it do to lose its capital, and suffer other injury?

"To lie, or lay."

It has been admitted that the verbs before considered are often used as active verbs, and that there is, in truth, action expressed by them. But when the man has fallen from his seat and lies upon the floor, it is contended that he no longer acts, and that lie expresses no action. He has ceased from physical, muscular action regulated by his will, and is now subject to the common laws which govern matter.

Let us take a strong example. The book lies or lays on the desk. Now you ask, does that book perform any action in laying on the desk? I answer, yes; and I will prove it on the principles of the soundest philosophy, to the satisfaction of every one present. Nor will I deviate from existing grammars to do it, so far as real action is concerned.

The book lies on the desk. The desk supports the book. Will you parse supports? It is, according to every system, an active transitive verb. It has an objective case after it on which the action terminates. But what does the desk do to support the book? It barely resists the action which the book performs in lying on it. The action of the desk and book is reciprocal. But if the book does not act, neither can the desk act, for that only repels the force of the book in pressing upon it in its tendency towards the earth, in obedience to the law of gravitation. And yet our authors have told us that the desk is active in resisting no action of the book! No wonder people are unable to understand grammar. It violates the first principles of natural science, and frames to itself a code of laws, unequal, false, and exceptionable, which bear no affinity to the rest of the world, and will not apply in the expression of ideas.

I was once lecturing on this subject in one of the cities of New-York. Mrs. W., the distinguished teacher of one of the most popular Female Seminaries in our country, attended. At the close of one lecture she remarked that the greatest fault she had discovered in the new system, was the want of a class of words to express neutrality. Children, she said, conceived ideas of things in a quiescent state, and words should be taught them by which to communicate such ideas. I asked her for an example. She gave the rock in the side of the mountain. It had never moved. It could never act. There it had been from the foundation of the earth, and there it would remain unaltered and unchanged till time should be no longer. I remarked, that I would take another small stone and lay it on the great one which could never act, and now we say the great rock upholds, sustains or supports the small one—all active transitive verbs with an object expressed.

She replied, she would give it up, for it had satisfied her of a new principle which must be observed in the exposition of all language, which accords with facts as developed in physical and mental science.

I continued, not only does that rock act in resisting the force of the small one which lays upon it, but, by the attraction of gravitation it is able to maintain its position in the side of the mountain; by cohesion it retains its distinct identity and solidity, and repels all foreign bodies. It is also subject to the laws which govern the earth in its diurnal and annual revolutions, and moves in common with other matter at the astonishing rate of a thousand miles in an hour! Who shall teach children, in these days of light and improvement, the grovelling doctrine of neutrality, this relic of the peripatetic philosophy? Will parents send their children to school to learn falsehood? And can teachers be satisfied to remain in ignorance, following with blind reverence the books they have studied, and refuse to examine new principles, fearing they shall be compelled to acknowledge former errors and study new principles? They should remember it is wiser and more honorable to confess a fault and correct it, than it is to remain permanent in error.

Let us take another example of the verb "to lie." A country pedagogue who has followed his authorities most devotedly, and taught his pupils that lie is a "neuter verb, expressing neither action nor passion, but simply being, or a state of being," goes out, during the intermission, into a grove near by, to exercise himself. In attempting to roll a log up the hill, he makes a mis-step, and falls (intransitive verb, nothing falls!) to the ground, and the log rolls (nothing) on to him, and lies across his legs. In this condition he is observed by his scholars to whom he cries (nothing) for help. "Do (nothing) come (intransitive) and help me." They obey him and remain neuter, or at least act intransitively, and produce no effects. He cries again for help and his cries are regarded. They present themselves before him. "Do roll this log off; it will break my legs." "Oh no, master; how can that be? The log lies on you, does it not?" "Yes, and it will press me to death." "No, no; that can never be. The log can not act. Lies is a neuter verb, signifying neither action nor passion, but simply being or a state of being. You have a state of being, and the log has a state of being. It can not harm you. You must have forgotten the practical application of the truths you have been teaching us." It would be difficult to explain neuter verbs in such a predicament.

"Now I lay me down to sleep."

"She died and they laid her beside her lover under the spreading branches of the willow."

"They laid it away so secure that they could never find it."

They laid down to rest themselves after the fatigue of a whole day's journey.