The Comic English Grammar - PDF Room
The Comic English Grammar - PDF Room
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*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMIC ENGLISH GRAMMAR ***
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THE COMIC
ENGLISH GRAMMAR;
A NEW AND FACETIOUS
Introduction to the English Tongue.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1840.
AN ORIGINALITY OF STYLE,
(if the expression may be pardoned) quite unique, and a Dexterity in the Use
of Metaphor unparalleled; whose multifarious and sublime—it would not
be too much to say talented—Compositions would, it may be fearlessly
asserted, afford any
ENTERPRISING PUBLISHER
a not-every-day-to-be-met-with, and not in-a-hurry-to-be-relinquished opportunity
for an
PRINCELY DOMAIN!
which, without exciting a blush in the mind of veracity, might be said (in a
literary point of view) to be fertilised by a meandering rivulet of Poetry,
comparable for Beauty and Picturesque Effect to
IMMORTAL BARD:
COMIC ENGLISH
is, with the most profound Veneration, Admiration, nay, even with
Respect (and the term is used “advisedly”)
humbly dedicated
by
HIS MOST OBLIGED AND MOST
OBEDIENT SERVANT,
THE AUTHOR.
[Pg vii]
PREFACE.
It may be considered a strange wish on the part of an Author, to have his preface compared to a donkey’s gallop.
We are nevertheless desirous that our own should be considered both short and sweet. For our part, indeed, we
would have every preface as short as an orator’s cough, to which, in purpose, it is so nearly like; but Fashion
requires, and like the rest of her sex, requires because she requires, that before a writer begins the business of his
book, he should give an account to the world of his reasons for producing it; and therefore, to avoid singularity,
we shall proceed with the statement of our own, excepting only a few private ones, which are neither here nor
there.
To advance the interests of mankind by promoting the cause of Education; to ameliorate the conversation of the [Pg viii]
masses; to cultivate Taste, and diffuse Refinement; these are the objects which we have in view in submitting a
Comic English Grammar to the patronage of a discerning Public. Nor have we been actuated by philanthropic
motives alone, but also by a regard to Patriotism, which, as it has been pronounced on high authority to be the last
refuge of a scoundrel, must necessarily be the first concern of an aspiring and disinterested mind. We felt
ourselves called upon to do as much, at least, for Modern England as we had before done for Ancient Rome; and
having been considered by competent judges to have infused a little liveliness into a dead language, we were bold
enough to hope that we might extract some amusement from a living one.
Few persons there are, whose ears are so extremely obtuse, as not to be frequently annoyed at the violations of
Grammar by which they are so often assailed. It is really painful to be forced, in walking along the streets, to hear
such phrases as, “That ’ere homnibus.” “Where’ve you bin.” “Vot’s the hodds?” and the like. Very dreadful [Pg ix]
expressions are also used by draymen and others in addressing their horses. What can possibly induce a human
being to say “Gee woot!” “’Mather way!” or “Woa?” not to mention the atrocious “Kim aup!” of the ignorant and
degraded costermonger. We once actually heard a fellow threaten to “pitch into” his dog! meaning, we believe, to
beat the animal.
It is notorious that the above and greater enormities are perpetrated in spite of the number of Grammars already
before the world. This fact sufficiently excuses the present addition to the stock; and as serious English Grammars
have hitherto failed to effect the desired reformation, we are induced to attempt it by means of a Comic one.
With regard to the moral tendency of our labours, we may here be permitted to remark, that they will tend, if
successful, to the suppression of evil speaking.
We shall only add, that as the Spartans used to exhibit a tipsy slave to their children with a view to disgust them
with drunkenness, so we, by giving a few examples here and there, of incorrect phraseology, shall expose, in their [Pg x]
naked deformity, the vices of speech to the ingenuous reader.
[Pg xi]
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Page
FRONTISPIECE. Frontispiece
MINERVA TEACHING x
JOHN BULL 12
THE “PRODIGY” 14
“JANE YOU KNOW WHO” 18
MUTES AND LIQUIDS 23
AWKWARD LOUT 24
HA! HA! HA! HO! HO! HO! HE! HE! HE! 27
“O!, WHAT, A, LARK!—HERE, WE, ARE!” 28
ALDIBORONTIPHOSCOPHORMIO AND CHRONONHOTONTHOLOGOS 34
SINGLE BLESSEDNESS 40
APPLE SAUCE 45
MATILDA 48
A SOCIALIST 50
“SHAN’T I SHINE TO NIGHT, DEAR?” 51
JULIA 57
A VERY BAD CASE 59
A SELECT VESTRY 69
SELF-ESTEEM 78
“FACT, MADAM!”—“GRACIOUS, MAJOR!” 82
YEARS OF DISCRETION 89
“I SHALL GIVE YOU A DRUBBING!” 97
A COMICAL CONJUNCTION 106 [Pg xii]
“AS WELL AS CAN BE EXPECTED” 108
“HOW’S YOUR INSPECTOR?” 119
“WHAT A DUCK OF A MAN!” 120
THE FLIRT 122
THE CAPTAIN 128
THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON 131
“OH! YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING MAN!” 137
THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN 139
“VIRTUE’S REWARD” 142
“NOT TO MINCE MATTERS, MISS, I LOVE YOU” 145
THE FRENCH MARQUIS 149
“THE ENGAGED ONES” 153
“THE LADIES!” 156
“HIT ONE OF YOUR OWN SIZE!” 158
ALL FOR LOVE 169
“TALE OF A TUB” 170
“A RESPECTABLE MAN” 177
DOING WHAT YOU LIKE WITH YOUR OWN 180
“WHAT A LITTLE DEAR!” 183
BRUTUS 187
THE TWO DOVES 190
“THE NASTY LITTLE SQUALLING BRAT” 205
“OH, JEMIMA!” 214
LOVE AND MURDER 216
STANDING ON POINTS 218
“WHERE GOT’ST THOU THAT GOOSE?” 219
[Pg 1]
PRELIMINARY DISCOURSE.
Our native country having been, from time immemorial, entitled Merry England, it is clear that, provided it has
been called by a right name, a Comic Grammar will afford the most hopeful means of teaching its inhabitants their
language.
That the epithet in question has been correctly applied, it will therefore be our business to show.
If we can only prove that things which foreigners regard in the most serious point of view, and which, perhaps,
ought in reality to be so considered, afford the modern Minotaur John Bull, merely matter of amusement, we shall
go far towards the establishment of our position. We hope to do this and more also.
Births, marriages, and deaths, especially the latter, must be allowed to be matters of some consequence. Every
one knows what jokes are made upon the two first subjects. Those which the remaining one affords, we shall [Pg 2]
proceed to consider.
Suicide, for instance, is looked upon by Mr. Bull with a very different eye from that with which his neighbours
regard it. As to an abortive attempt thereat, it excites in his mind unmitigated ridicule, instead of interest and
sympathy. In Paris a foolish fellow, discontented with the world, or, more probably, failing in some attempt to
make himself conspicuous, ties a brickbat to his neck, and jumps, at twelve o’clock of the day, into the Seine. He
thereby excites great admiration in the minds of the bystanders; but were he to play the same trick on London
Bridge, as soon as he had been pulled out of the water he would only be laughed at for his pains.
There was a certain gentleman, an officer in the navy, one Lieutenant Luff; at least we have never heard the fact of
his existence disputed; who used to spend all his time in drinking grog; and at last, when he could get no more,
thought proper to shoot himself through the chest. In France he would have been buried in Père La Chaise, or
some such place, and would have had an ode written to his memory. As his native country, however, was the
scene of his exploit, he was interred, for the affair happened some years ago, in a cross-road; and his fate has
[Pg 3]
been made the subject of a comic song.
That our countrymen regard Death as a jest, no one who considers their bravery in war or their appetite in peace,
can possibly doubt. And the expressions, “to hop the twig,” “to kick the bucket,” “to go off the hooks,” “to turn
up the toes,” and so on, vernacularly used as synonymous with “to expire,” sufficiently show the jocular light in
which the last act of the farce of Life is viewed in Her Majesty’s dominions.
An execution is looked upon abroad as a serious affair; but with us it is quite another matter. Capital punishments,
whatever they may be to the sufferers, are to the spectators, if we may judge from their behaviour, little else than
capital jokes. The terms which, in common discourse, are used by the humble classes to denote the pensile state,
namely, “dancing on nothing,” “having a drop too much,” or “being troubled with a line,” are quite playful, and the
“Last Dying Speech” of the criminal is usually a species of composition which might well be called “An
Entertaining Narrative illustrated with Humourous Designs.”
The play of George Barnwell, in which a deluded linendraper’s apprentice commits a horrid murder on the body [Pg 4]
of a pious uncle, excites, whenever it is represented, as much amusement as if it were a comedy; and there is also
a ballad detailing the same circumstances, which, when sung at convivial meetings, is productive of much
merriment. Billy Taylor, too, another ballad of the same sort, celebrates, in jocund strains, an act of unjustifiable
homicide.
Even the terrors of the other world are converted, in Great Britain, into the drolleries of this. The awful apparitions
of the unfortunate Miss Bailey, and the equally unfortunate Mr. Giles Scroggins, have each of them furnished the
materials of a comical ditty; and the terrific appearance of the Ghost of a Sheep’s Head to one William White,—a
prodigy which would be considered in Germany as fearful in the extreme, has been applied, by some popular but
anonymous writer, to the same purpose. The bodily ablation of an unprincipled exciseman by the Prince of
Darkness, a circumstance in itself certainly of a serious nature, has been recorded by one of our greatest poets in
strains by no means remarkable for gravity. The appellation, “Old Nick,” applied by the vulgar to the Prince in
question, is, in every sense of the words, a nickname; and the aliases by which, like many of his subjects, he is [Pg 5]
also called and known, such as “Old Scratch,” “Old Harry,” or “The Old Gentleman,” are, to say the very least of
them, terms that border on the familiar.
In the popular drama of Punch,[1] we observe a perfect climax of atrocities and horrors. Victim after victim falls [Pg 6]
prostrate beneath the cudgel of the deformed and barbarous monster; the very first who feels his tyranny being the
wife of his bosom. He, meanwhile, behaves in the most heartless manner, actually singing and capering among the
mangled carcases. Benevolence is shocked, Justice is derided, Law is set at nought, and Constables are slain.
The fate to which he had been consigned by a Jury of his Country is eluded; and the Avenger of Crime is
circumvented by the wily assassin. Lastly, to crown the whole, Retribution herself is mocked; and the very Arch
Fiend is dismissed to his own dominions with a fractured skull. And at every stage of these frightful proceedings
shouts of uproarious laughter attest the delight of the beholders, increasing in violence with every additional terror,
and swelling at the concluding one to an almost inextinguishable peal.
Indeed there is scarcely any shocking thing out of which we can extract no amusement, except the loss of money,
wherein, at least when it is our own, we cannot see anything to laugh at.
Some will say that we make it a principle to convert whatever frightens other people into a jest, in order that we
may imbibe a contempt for danger; and that our superiority (universally admitted) over all nations in courage and [Pg 7]
prowess, is, in fact, owing to the way which we have acquired of laughing all terrors, natural and supernatural,
utterly to scorn. With these, however, we do not agree. Our national laughter is, in our opinion, as little based on
principle as our national actions have of late years been. We laugh from impulse, or, as we do everything else,
because we choose. And we shall find, on examination, that we have contrived, amongst us, to render a great
many things exceedingly droll and absurd, without having the slightest reason to assign for so doing.
For example, there is nothing in the office of a Parish Clerk that makes it desirable that he should be a ludicrous
person. There is no reason why he should have a cracked voice; an inability to use, or a tendency to omit, the
aspirate; a stupid countenance; or a pompous manner. Nor do we clearly see why he should be unable to
pronounce proper names; should say Snatchacrab for Sennacherib, or Leftenant for Leviathan. Such,
nevertheless, are the peculiarities by which he is commonly distinguished.
We are likewise at a loss to divine why so studiously ridiculous a costume has been made to enhance the natural [Pg 8]
absurdity of a Beadle; for we can hardly believe that his singular style of dress was really intended to inspire small
children with veneration and awe.
It can scarcely be supposed that a Lord Mayor’s Show was instituted only to be laughed at; yet who would
contend that it is of any other use? Nor could the office of the Chief Magistrate of a Corporation, nor that of an
Alderman, have been created for the amusement of the Public: there is, however, no purpose which both of them
so frequently serve.
If the wig and robes of a Judge were meant to excite the respect of the community in general, and the fear of the
unconscientious part of it, we cannot but think that the design has been unsuccessful. That the ministers of justice
are not, in fact, so reverently held, by any means, as from the nature of their functions they might be expected to
be, is certain. A magistrate, to go no further, is universally known, if not designated, by the jocose appellation of
“Beak.”
Butchers, bakers, cobblers, tinkers, costermongers, and tailors; to say nothing of footmen, waiters, dancing-
masters, and barbers have become the subjects of ridicule to an extent not warranted by their avocations, simply
considered.
But the comical mind, like the jaundiced eye, views everything through a coloured medium. Such a mind is that of [Pg 9]
the generality of Britons. We distinguish even the nearest ties of relationship by facetious names. A father is called
“Dad,” or “The Governor;” an uncle, “Nunkey;” and a wife, “a rib,” or more pleasantly still, as in the
advertisements, an “encumbrance.” Almost every being or thing, indeed, has in English two words to express it,
an ordinary and an odd one; and so greatly has the number of expressions of the kind last mentioned increased of
late, that, as it appears to us, a new edition of Johnson’s Dictionary, enriched with modern additions, is
imperatively called for. When we talk of odd words, we have no fear that our meaning will be misunderstood. It is
true that there are some few individuals who complain that they do not see any wit in calling a sheep’s-head a
“jemmy,” legs “bandies,” or a hand a “mawley;” and it is also true that there was once a mathematician, who, after
reading through Milton’s Paradise Lost, wanted to know what it all proved?
And now that we are speaking of names, we may mention a few which are certainly of a curious nature, and
which no foreigner could possibly have invented; unless, which would be likely enough, he meant to apply them [Pg 10]
seriously. The names we allude to are names of places—and pretty places they are too; as, “Mount Pleasant,”
“Paradise Row,” “Golden Lane.”
Then there are a great many whimsical things that we do:—
When a man cannot pay his debts, and has no prospect of being able to do so except by working, we shut him up
in gaol, and humorously describe his condition as that of being in Quod.
We will not allow a man to give an old woman a dose of rhubarb if he have not acquired at least half a dozen
sciences; but we permit a quack to sell as much poison as he pleases, with no other diploma than what he gets
from the “College of Health.”
When a thief pleads “Guilty” to an indictment, he is advised by the Judge to recall his plea; as if a trial were a
matter of sport, and the culprit, like a fox, gave no amusement unless regularly run down. This perhaps is the
reason why allowing an animal to start some little time before the pursuit is commenced, is called giving him law.
When one man runs away with another’s wife, and, being on that account challenged to fight a duel, shoots the
aggrieved party through the head, the latter is said to receive satisfaction.
We never take a glass of wine at dinner without getting somebody else to do the same, as if we wanted [Pg 11]
encouragement; and then, before we venture to drink, we bow to each other across the table, preserving all the
while a most wonderful gravity. This, however, it may be said, is the natural result of endeavouring to keep one
another in countenance.
The way in which we imitate foreign manners and customs is very amusing. Savages stick fish-bones through their
noses; our fair countrywomen have hoops of metal poked through their ears. The Caribs flatten the forehead; the
Chinese compress the foot; and we possess similar contrivances for reducing the figure of a young lady to a
resemblance to an hour-glass or a devil-on-two-sticks.
There being no other assignable motive for these and the like proceedings, it is reasonable to suppose that they
are adopted, as schoolboys say, “for fun.”
We could go on, were it necessary, adducing facts to an almost unlimited extent; but we consider that enough has
now been said in proof of the comic character of the national mind. And in conclusion, if any foreign author can
be produced, equal in point of wit, humour, and drollery, to Swift, Sterne, or Butler, we hereby engage to eat [Pg 12]
him; albeit we have no pretensions to the character of a “helluo librorum.”
[Pg 13]
THE
COMIC ENGLISH GRAMMAR.
“English Grammar,” according to Lindley Murray, “is the art of speaking and writing the English language with
propriety.”
The English language, written and spoken with propriety, is commonly called the King’s English.
A monarch, who, three or four generations back, occupied the English throne, is reported to have said, “If
beebles will be boets, they must sdarve.” This was a rather curious specimen of “King’s English.” It is, however, a
maxim of our law, that “the King can do no wrong.” Whatever bad English, therefore, may proceed from the
royal mouth, is not “King’s English,” but “Minister’s English,” for which they alone are responsible. For
illustrations of this kind of “English” we beg to refer the reader to the celebrated English Grammar which was
written by the late Mr. Cobbett.
King’s English (or, perhaps, under existing circumstances we should say, Queen’s English) is the current coin of [Pg 14]
conversation, to mutilate which, and unlawfully to utter the same, is called clipping the King’s English; a high
crime and misdemeanour.
Clipped English, or bad English, is one variety of Comic English, of which we shall adduce instances hereafter.
Slipslop, or the erroneous substitution of one word for another, as “prodigy” for “protégée,” “derangement” for [Pg 15]
“arrangement,” “exasperate” for “aspirate,” and the like, is another.
Slang, which consists in cant words and phrases, as “dodge” for “sly trick,” “no go” for “failure,” and “carney” “to
flatter,” may be considered a third.
Latinised English, or Fine English, sometimes assumes the character of Comic English, especially when applied to
the purposes of common discourse; as “Extinguish the luminary,” “Agitate the communicator,” “Are your
corporeal functions in a condition of salubrity?” “A sable visual orb,” “A sanguinary nasal protuberance.”
American English is Comic English in a “pretty particular considerable tarnation” degree.
Among the various kinds of Comic English it would be “tout-à-fait” inexcusable, were we to “manquer” to
mention one which has, so to speak, quite “bouleversé’d” the old-fashioned style of conversation; French-
English, that is what “nous voulons dire.” “Avec un poco” of the “Italiano,” this forms what is also called the
Mosaic dialect.
English Grammar is divided into four parts—Orthography, Etymology, Syntax, and Prosody; and as these are
points that a good grammarian always stands upon, he, particularly when a pedant, and consequently somewhat
flat, may very properly be compared to a table.
[Pg 16]
PART I.
ORTHOGRAPHY.
CHAPTER. I.
OF THE NATURE OF THE LETTERS, AND OF A COMIC ALPHABET.
Orthography is like a junior usher, or instructor of youth. It teaches us the nature and powers of letters and the
right method of spelling words.
Note.—In a public school, the person corresponding to an usher is called a master. As it is sometimes his duty to
flog, we propose that he should henceforth be called the “Usher of the Birch Rod.”
Comic Orthography teaches us the oddity and absurdities ofletters, and the wrong method of spelling words.
The following is an example of Comic Orthography:—
islinton foteenth of
febuary 1840.
my Deer jemes
wen fust i sawed yu doun the middle and up agin att Vite condick ouse i maid Up my Mind to
skure you for my hone for i Felt at once that my appiness was at Steak, and a sensashun in my
Bussum I coudent no ways accompt For. And isaid to mary at missis Igginses said i theres the [Pg 17]
Mann for my money o ses Shee i nose a Sweeter Yung Man than that Air Do you sez i Agin
then there we Agree To Differ, and we was sittin by the window and we wos wery Neer fallin
Out. my deer gemes Sins that Nite i Havent slept a Wink and Wot is moor to the Porpus i Have
quit Lost my Happy tight and am gettin wus and wus witch i Think yu ort to pitty Mee. i am
Tolled every Day that ime Gettin Thinner and a Jipsy sed that nothin wood Cure me But a Ring.
i wos a Long time makin my Mind Up to right to You for of Coarse i Says jemes will think me
too forrad but this bein Leep yere i thout ide Make a Plunge speshialy as her grashius madjesty
as Set the Exampel of Popin the queshton, leastways to all Them as dont Want to Bee old
Mades all their blessed lives. so my Deer Jemes if yow want a Pardoner for Better or for wus
nows Your Time dont think i Behave despicable for tis my Luv for yu as makes Me take this
Stepp.
please to Burn this Letter when Red and excuse the scralls and Blotches witch is Caused by my
Teers i remain
till deth Yure on Happy
Vallentine
jane you No who.
poscrip [Pg 18]
nex Sunday Is my sunday out And i shall be Att the corner of Wite lion Street pentonvil at a
quawter pas Sevn.
Wen This U. C.
remember Mee
j. g.
A diphthong is the union of two vowels in one sound, as ea in heavy, eu in Meux, ou in stout. [Pg 24]
A triphthong is a similar union of three vowels, as eau in the word beau; a term applied to dandies, and addressed
to geese: probably because they are birds of a feather.
A proper diphthong is that in which the sound is formed by both the vowels: as, aw in awkward, ou in lout.
An improper diphthong is that in which the sound is formed by one of the vowels only, as ea in heartless, oa in [Pg 25]
hoax.
According to our notions there are a great many improper diphthongs in common use. By improper diphthongs
we mean vowels unwarrantably dilated into diphthongs, and diphthongs mispronounced, in defiance of good
English, and against our Sovereign Lady the Queen, her crown and dignity.
For instance, the rustics say,—
“Loor! whaut a foine gaal! Moy oy!”
“Whaut a precious soight of crows!”
“As I was a comin’ whoam through the corn fiddles (fields) I met Willum Jones.”
After this manner cockneys express themselves:—
“I sor (saw) him.”
“Dror (draw) it out.”
“Hold your jor (jaw).”
“I caun’t. You shaun’t. How’s your Maw and Paw? Do you like taut (tart)?”
We have heard young ladies remark,—
“Oh, my! What a naice young man!”
“What a bee—eautiful day!”
“I’m so fond of dayncing!”
Dandies frequently exclaim,—
“I’m postively tiawed (tired).” [Pg 26]
Lisping, as, “thweet, Dthooliur, thawming, kweechau,” is by some considered interesting, by others absurd.
Stammering is sometimes productive of amusement.
Humming and hawing are ludicrous embellishments to a discourse. Crowing like a cock, braying like a donkey,
quacking like a duck, and hooting like an owl, are modes of exerting the voice which are usually regarded as
diverting.
But of all the sounds which proceed from the human mouth, by far the funniest are Ha! ha! ha!—Ho! ho! ho! and
He! he! he!
OF SYLLABLES.
Syllable is a nice word, it sounds so much like syllabub!
A syllable, whether it constitute a word or part of a word, is a sound, either simple or compound, produced by
one effort of the voice, as, “O!, what, a, lark!—Here, we, are!”
Spelling is the art of putting together the letters which compose a syllable, or the syllables which compose a word. [Pg 29]
Comic spelling is usually the work of imagination. The chief rule to be observed in this kind of spelling, is, to spell
every word as it is pronounced; though the rule is not universally observed by comic spellers. The following
example, for the genuineness of which we can vouch, is one so singularly apposite, that although we have already
submitted a similar specimen of orthography to the reader, we are irresistibly tempted to make a second
experiment on his indulgence. The epistolary curiosity, then, which we shall now proceed to transcribe, was
addressed by a patient to his medical adviser.
“Sir,
“My Granmother wos very much trubeld With the Gout and dide with it my father wos also and
dide with it when i was 14 years of age i wos in the habbet of Gettin whet feet Every Night by
pumping water out of a Celler Wich Cas me to have the tipes fever wich Cas my Defness when i
was 23 of age i fell in the Water betwen the ice and i have Bin in the habbet of Getting wet when [Pg 30]
traviling i have Bin trubbeld with Gout for seven years
“Your most humbel
“Servent
........
......
Clearkenwell”
Chelsea College has been supposed by foreigners to be an institution for the teaching of orthography; probably in
consequence of a passage in the well known song in “The Waterman,”
“Never more at Chelsea Ferry,
Shall your Thomas take a spell.”
Q. Why is a dunce no conjuror?
A. Because he cannot spell.
Among the various kinds of spelling may be enumerated spelling for a favour; or giving what is called a broad hint.
Certain rules for the division of words into syllables are laid down in some grammars, and we should be very glad
to follow the established usage, but, limited as we are by considerations of comicality and space, we cannot
afford to give more than two very general directions. If you do not know how to spell a word, look it out in the [Pg 31]
dictionary, and if you have no dictionary by you, write the word in such a way, that, while it may be guessed at, it
shall not be legible.
OF WORDS IN GENERAL.
There is no one question that we are aware of more puzzling than this, “What is your opinion ofthings in
general?” Words in general are, fortunately for us, a subject on which the formation of an opinion is somewhat
more easy. Words stand for things: they are a sort of counters, checks, bank-notes, and sometimes, indeed, they
are notes for which people get a great deal of money. Such words, however, are, alas! not English words, or
words sterling. Strange! that so much should be given for a mere song. It is quite clear that the givers, whatever
may be their pretensions to a refined or literary taste, must be entirely unacquainted with Wordsworth.
Fine words are oily enough, and he who uses them is vulgarly said to “cut it fat;” but for all that it is well known
that they will not butter parsnips.
Some say that words are but wind: for this reason, when people are having words, it is often said, that “the wind’s
up.”
Different words please different people. Philosophers are fond of hard words; pedants of tough words, long [Pg 33]
words, and crackjaw words; bullies, of rough words; boasters, of big words; the rising generation, of slang
words; fashionable people, of French words; wits, of sharp words and smart words; and ladies, of nice words,
sweet words, soft words, and soothing words; and, indeed, of words in general.
Words (when spoken) are articulate sounds used by common consent as signs of our ideas.
A word of one syllable is called a Monosyllable: as, you, are, a, great, oaf.
A word of two syllables is named a Dissyllable; as, cat-gut, mu-sic.
A word of three syllables is termed a Trisyllable; as, Mag-net-ism, Mum-mer-y.
A word of four or more syllables is entitled a Polysyllable; as, in-ter-mi-na-ble, cir-cum-lo-cu-ti-on, ex-as-pe-ra-
ted, func-ti-o-na-ry, met-ro-po-li-tan, ro-tun-di-ty.
Words of more syllables than one are sometimes comically contracted into one syllable; as, in s’pose for suppose,
b’lieve for believe, and ’scuse for excuse: here, perhaps, ’buss, abbreviated from omnibus, deserves to be
mentioned.
In like manner, many long words are elegantly trimmed and shortened; as, ornary for ordinary, ’strornary for [Pg 34]
extraordinary, and curosity for curiosity; to which mysterus for mysterious may also be added.
Polysyllables are an essential element in the sublime, both in poetry and in prose; but especially in that species of
the sublime which borders very closely on the ridiculous; as,
“Aldiborontiphoscophormio,
Where left’st thou Chrononhotonthologos?”
All words are either primitive or derivative. A primitive word is that which cannot be reduced to any simpler word [Pg 35]
in the language; as, brass, York, knave. A derivative word, under the head of which compound words are also
included, is that which may be reduced to another and a more simple word in the English language; as, brazen,
Yorkshire, knavery, mud-lark, lighterman.
Broadbrim is a derivative word; but it is one often applied to a very primitive kind of person.
[Pg 36]
PART II.
ETYMOLOGY.
CHAPTER I.
A COMICAL VIEW OF THE PARTS OF SPEECH.
Etymology teaches the varieties, modifications, and derivation of words.
The derivation of words means that which they come from as words; for what they come from as sounds, is
another matter. Some words come from the heart, and then they are pathetic; others from the nose, in which case
they are ludicrous. The funniest place, however, from which words can come, is the stomach. By the way, the
Lord Mayor would do well to keep a ventriloquist, from whom, at a moment’s notice, he might ascertain the
voice of the corporation.
Comic Etymology teaches us the varieties, modifications, and derivation, of words invested with a comic
character.
Grammatically speaking, we say that there are, in English, as many sorts of words as a cat is said to have lives, [Pg 37]
nine; namely, the Article, the Substantive or Noun, the Adjective, the Pronoun, the Verb, the Adverb, the
Preposition, the Conjunction, and the Interjection.
Comically speaking, there are a great many sorts of words which we have not room enough to particularise
individually. We can therefore only afford to classify them. For instance; there are words which are spoken in the
Low Countries, and are High Dutch to persons of quality; as in Billingsgate, Whitechapel, and St. Giles’s.
Words in use amongst all those who have to do with horses.
Words that pass between rival cab-men.
Words peculiar to the P. R. where the order of the day is generally a word and a blow.
Words spoken in a state of intoxication.
Words uttered under excitement.
Words of endearment, addressed to children in arms.
Similar words, sometimes called burning, tender, soft, and broken words, addressed to young ladies, and
whispered, lisped, sighed, or drawled, according to circumstances.
Words of honour; as, tailors’ words and shoemakers’ words; which, like the above-mentioned, or lovers’ words,
are very often broken.
With many other sorts of words, which will be readily suggested by the reader’s fancy. [Pg 38]
You may distinguish an adjective by its making sense with the word thing: as, a poor thing, a sweet thing, a cool
thing; or with any particular substantive, as a ticklish position, an awkward mistake, a strange step.
4. A Pronoun is a word used in lieu of a noun, in order to avoid tautology: as, “The man wants calves; he is a lath;
he is a walking-stick.”
5. A Verb is a word which signifies to be, to do, or to suffer: as, I am; I calculate; I am fixed.
A verb may usually be distinguished by its making sense with a personal pronoun, or with the word to before it: as
I yell, he grins, they caper; or to drink, to smoke, to chew.
Fashionable accomplishments!
Certain substantives are, with peculiar elegance, and by persons who call themselves genteel, converted into
verbs: as, “Do you wine?” “Will you malt?” “Let me persuade you to cheese?”
6. An Adverb is a part of speech which, joined to a verb, an adjective, or another adverb, serves to express
some quality or circumstance concerning it: as, “She swears dreadfully; she is incorrigibly lazy; and she is
almost continually in liquor.”
7. An adverb is generally characterised by answering to the question, How? how much? when? or where? as in [Pg 40]
the verse, “Merrily danced the Quaker’s wife,” the answer to the question, How did she dance? is, merrily.
8. Prepositions serve to connect words together, and to show the relation between them: as,
“Off with his head, so much for Buckingham!”
9. A Conjunction is used to connect not only words, but sentences also: as, Smith and Jones are happy because
they are single. A miss is as good as a mile.
SINGLE BLESSEDNESS.
10. An Interjection is a short word denoting passion or emotion: as, “Oh, Sophonisba! Sophonisba, oh!” Pshaw! [Pg 41]
Pish! Pooh! Bah! Ah! Au! Eughph! Yah! Hum! Ha! Lauk! La! Lor! Heigho! Well! There! &c.
Among the foregoing interjections there may, perhaps, be some unhonoured by the adoption of genius, and
unknown in the domains of literature. For the present notice of them some apology may be required, but little will
be given; their insertion may excite astonishment, but their omission would have provoked complaint: though
unprovided with a Johnsonian title to a place in the English vocabulary, they have long been recognised by the
popular voice; and let it be remembered, that as custom supplies the defects of legislation, so that which is not
sanctioned by magisterial authority may nevertheless be justified by vernacular usage.
OF THE ARTICLES.
The Articles in English are two, a and the; a becomes an before a vowel, and before an h which is not sounded:
as, an exquisite, an hour-glass. But if the h be pronounced, the a only is used: as, a homicide, a homœopathist, a
hum.
This rule is reversed in what is termed the Cockney dialect: as, a inspector, a officer, a object, a omnibus, a
individual, a alderman, a honour, an horse, or rather, a norse, an hound, an hunter, &c.
It is usual in the same dialect, when the article an should, in strict propriety, precede a word, to omit the letter n,
and further, for the sake of euphony and elegance, to place the aspirate h before the word; as, a hegg, a
haccident, a hadverb, a hox. But sometimes, when a word begins with an h, and has the article a before it, the
aspirate is omitted, the letter a remaining unchanged: as, a ’ogg, a ’edge, a ’emisphere, a ’ouse.
The slight liberties which it is the privilege of the people to take with the article and aspirate become always most [Pg 43]
evident in the expression of excited feeling, when the stress which is laid upon certain words is heightened by the
peculiarity of the pronunciation: as, “You hignorant hupstart! you hilliterate ’og! ’ow dare you to hoffer such a
hinsult to my hunderstanding?—You are a hobject of contempt, you hare, and a hinsolent wagobond! your
mother was nothing but a happle-woman, and your father was an ’uckster!”
Note.—In the above example, the ordinary rules of language relative to the article and aspirate (to say nothing of
the maxims of politeness) are completely set at nought; but it must be remembered, that in common discourse the
modification of the article, and the omission or use of the aspirate, are determined by the Cockneys according to
the ease with which particular words are pronounced; as, “Though himpudent, he warn’t as impudent as Bill
wur.” Here the word impudent, following a vowel-sound, is most easily pronounced as himpudent, while the
same word, coming after a consonant, even in the same sentence, is uttered with greater facility in the usual way.
A or an is called the indefinite article, because it is used, in a vague sense, to point out some one thing belonging [Pg 44]
to a certain kind, but in other respects indeterminate; as,
“A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!”
So say grammarians. Eating-house keepers tell a different story. A cheese, in common discourse, means an
object of a certain shape, size, weight, and so on, entire and perfect; so that to call half a cheese a cheese, would
constitute a flaw in an indictment against a thief who had stolen one. But a waiter will term a fraction, or a
modicum of cheese, a cheese; a plate-full of pudding, a pudding; and a stick of celery, a celery, or rather, a
salary. Nay, he will even apply the article a to a word which does not stand for an individual object at all; as a
bread, a butter, a bacon. Here we are reminded of the famous exclamation of one of these gentry:—“Master!
master! there’s two teas and a brandy-and-water just hopped over the palings!”
The is termed the definite article, inasmuch as it denotes what particular thing or things are meant; as,
“The miller he stole corn,
The weaver he stole yarn,
And the little tailòr he stole broad-cloth
To keep the three rogues warm.”
A substantive to which no article is prefixed is taken in a general sense; as, “Apple sauce is proper for goose;” [Pg 45]
that is, for all geese.
APPLE-SAUCE.
A few additional remarks may advantageously be made with respect to the articles. The mere substitution of the
definite for the indefinite article is capable of changing entirely the meaning of a sentence. “That is a ticket” is the [Pg 46]
assertion of a certain fact; but “That is the ticket!” means something which is quite different.
The article is not prefixed to a proper name; as, Stubbs, Wiggins, Chubb, or Hobson, except for the sake of
distinguishing a particular family, or description of persons; as, He is a Burke; that is, one of the Burkes, or a
person resembling Burke. The article is sometimes also prefixed to a proper name, to point out some
distinguished individual; as, The Burke, or the great politician, or the resurrectionist, Burke.
Who is the Smith?
The indefinite article is joined to substantives in the singular number only. We have heard people say, however,
“He keeps a wine-vaults;” or, to quote more correctly—waltz. The definite article may be joined to plurals also.
The definite article is frequently used with adverbs in the comparative and superlative degree: as, “The longer I
live, the broader I grow;” or, as we have all heard the showman say, “This here, gentlemen and ladies, is the
vonderful heagle of the sun; the ’otterer it grows, the higherer he flies!”
CHAPTER III. [Pg 47]
SECTION I.
OF SUBSTANTIVES IN GENERAL.
Substantives are either proper or common.
Proper names, or substantives, are the names belonging to individuals: as William, Birmingham.
These are sometimes converted into nicknames, or improper names: as Bill, Brummagem.
Common names, or substantives, denote kinds containing many sorts, or sorts containing many individuals under
them: as brute, beast, bumpkin, cherub, infant, goblin, &c.
Proper names, when an article is prefixed to them, are employed as common names: as, “They thought him a
perfect Chesterfield; he quite astonished the Browns.”
Common names, on the other hand, are made to denote individuals, by the addition of articles or pronouns: as,
“There was a little man, and he had a little gun.”
“That boy will be the death of me!”
Substantives are considered according to gender, number, and case; they are all of the third person when spoken [Pg 48]
of, and of the second when spoken to: as,
Matilda, fairest maid, who art
In countless bumpers toasted,
O let thy pity baste the heart
Thy fatal charms have roasted!
[Pg 49]
SECTION II.
OF GENDER.
The distinction between nouns with regard to sex is called Gender. There are three genders; the Masculine, the
Feminine, and the Neuter.
The masculine gender belongs to animals of the male kind: as, a fop, a jackass, a boar, a poet, a lion.
The feminine gender is peculiar to animals of the female kind: as, a poetess, a lioness, a goose.
The neuter gender is that of objects which are neither males nor females: as, a toast, a tankard, a pot, a pipe, a
pudding, a pie, a sausage, a roll, a muffin, a crumpet, a puff, a cheesecake, a bun, an apricot, an orange, a
lollipop, a cream, an ice, a jelly, &c. &c. &c.
We might go on to enumerate an infinity of objects of the neuter gender, of all sorts and kinds; but in the selection
of the foregoing examples we have been guided by two considerations:—
1. The desire of exciting agreeable emotions in the mind of the reader.
2. The wish to illustrate the following proposition, “That almost everything nice is also neuter.”
Except, however, a nice young lady, a nice duck, and one or two other nice things, which we do not at present [Pg 50]
remember.
Some neuter substantives are by a figure of speech converted into the masculine or feminine gender: thus we say
of the sun, that when he shines upon a Socialist, he shines upon a thief; and of the moon, that she affects the minds
of lovers.
A SOCIALIST.
There are certain nouns with which notions of strength, vigour, and the like qualities, are more particularly
connected; and these are the neuter substantives which are figuratively rendered masculine. On the other hand,
beauty, amiability, and so forth, are held to invest words with a feminine character. Thus the sun is said to be [Pg 51]
masculine, and the moon feminine. But for our own part, and our view is confirmed by the discoveries of
astronomy, we believe that the sun is called masculine from his supporting and sustaining the moon, and finding
her the wherewithal to shine away as she does of a night, when all quiet people are in bed; and from his being
obliged to keep such a family of stars besides. The moon, we think, is accounted feminine, because she is thus
maintained and kept up in her splendour, like a fine lady, by her husband the sun. Furthermore, the moon is
continually changing; on which account alone she might be referred to the feminine gender. The earth is feminine,
tricked out, as she is, with gems and flowers. Cities and towns are likewise feminine, because there are as many
windings, turnings, and little odd corners in them as there are in the female mind. A ship is feminine, inasmuch as
she is blown about by every wind. Virtue is feminine by courtesy. Fortune and misfortune, like mother and
daughter, are both feminine. The Church is feminine, because she is married to the state; or married to the state
because she is feminine—we do not know which. Time is masculine, because he is so trifled with by the ladies.
[Pg 52]
SECTION III.
OF NUMBER.
Number is the consideration of an object as one or more; as, one poet, two, three, four, five poets; and so on, ad
infinitum.
Other countries may reckon up as many poets as they please; England has one more. [Pg 56]
The singular number expresses one object only; as, a towel, a viper.
The plural signifies more objects than one; as, towels, vipers.
Some nouns are used only in the singular number; dirt, pitch, tallow, grease, filth, butter, asparagus, &c.; others
only in the plural; as, galligaskins, breeches, &c.
Some words are the same in both numbers; as, sheep, swine, and some others.
“A doctor, both to sheep and swine,”
Said Mrs. Glass, “I am;
For legs of mutton I can dress,
And shine in curing ham.”
The plural number of nouns is usually formed by adding s to the singular; as, dove, doves, love, loves, &c.
Julia, dove returns to dove,
Quid pro quo, and love for love;
Happy in our mutual loves,
Let us live like turtle doves!
[Pg 57]
When, however, the substantive singular ends in x, ch soft, sh, ss, or s, we add es in the plural.
But remember, though box
In the plural makes boxes,
That the plural of ox
Should be oxen, not oxes.
A few Singular Plurals, or Plurals popularly varied, are as follow:— [Pg 58]
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
Beast Beastes, beastices.
Crust Crustes.
Gust Gustes.
Ghost Ghostes.
Host Hostes.
Joist Joistes.
Mist Mistes.
Nest Nestes.
Post, &c. Postes, postices, &c.
Note.—The singular is often used, by a kind of licence conceded to persons of refinement, for the plural; as,
“May I trouble you for a bean?” “Will you assist Miss Spriggins to a pea?” So also people say, “A few green.”
“Two or three radish,” &c.
SECTION IV.
OF CASE.
There is nearly as much difference between Latin and English substantives, with respect to the number of cases
pertaining to each, as there is between a quack-doctor and a physician; for while in Latin substantives have six
cases, in English they have but three. But the analogy should not be strained too far; for the fools in the world [Pg 59]
(who furnish the quack with his cases) more than double the number of the wise.
The cases of substantives are these: the Nominative, the Possessive or Genitive, and the Objective or Accusative.
The Nominative Case merely expresses the name of a thing, or the subject of the verb: as, “The doctors
differ;”—“The patient dies!”
Possession, which is nine points of the law, is what is signified by the Possessive Case. This case is distinguished [Pg 60]
by an apostrophe, with the letter s subjoined to it: as, “My soul’s idol!”—“A pudding’s end.”
But when the plural ends in s, the apostrophe only is retained, and the other s is omitted: as, “The Ministers’
Step;”—“The Rogues’ March;”—“Crocodiles’ tears;”—“Butchers’ mourning.”
When the singular terminates in ss, the letter s is sometimes, in like manner, dispensed with: as, “For goodness’
sake!”—“For righteousness’ sake!” Nevertheless, we have no objection to “Guinness’s” Stout.
The Objective Case follows a verb active, and expresses the object of an action, or of a relation: as, “Spring beat
Bill;” that is, Bill or “William Neate.” Hence, perhaps, the American phrase, “I’ll lick you elegant.”
By the by, it seems to us, that when the Americans revolted from the authority of England, they determined also to
revolutionise their language.
The Objective Case is also used with a preposition: as, “You are in a mess.”
English substantives may be declined in the following manner:—
SINGULAR. [Pg 61]
What is the nominative case
Of her who used to wash your face,
Your hair to comb, your boots to lace?
A mother!
PLURAL.
OF ADJECTIVES.
SECTION I.
OF THE NATURE OF ADJECTIVES AND THE DEGREES OF COMPARISON.
An English Adjective, whatever may be its gender, number, or case, like a rusty weathercock, never varies. Thus
we say, “A certain cabinet; certain rogues.”
But as a rusty weathercock may vary in being more or less rusty, so an adjective varies in the degrees of
comparison.
The degrees of comparison, like the genders, the Graces, the Fates, the Kings of Cologne, the Weird Sisters, the
Jolly Postboys, and many other things, are three; the Positive, the Comparative, and the Superlative.
The Positive state simply expresses the quality of an object; as, fat, ugly, foolish.
The Comparative degree increases or lessens the signification of the positive; as, fatter, uglier, more foolish, less [Pg 63]
foolish.
The Superlative degree increases or lessens the positive to the highest or lowest degree; as, fattest, ugliest, most
foolish, least foolish.
Amongst the ancients, Ulysses was the fattest, because nobody could compass him.
Aristides the Just was the ugliest, because he was so very plain.
The most foolish, undoubtedly, was Homer; for who was more natural than he?
The positive becomes the comparative by the addition of r or er; and the superlative by the addition of st or est
to the end of it; as, brown, browner, brownest; stout, stouter, stoutest; heavy, heavier, heaviest; wet, wetter,
wettest. The adverbs more and most, prefixed to the adjective, also form the superlative degree; as, heavy, more
heavy, most heavy.
Most heavy is the drink of draymen: hence, perhaps, the weight of those important personages. More of this,
however, in our forthcoming work on Phrenology.
Monosyllables are usually compared by er and est, and dissyllables by more and most; except dissyllables
ending in y or in le before a mute, or those which are accented on the last syllable; for these, like monosyllables, [Pg 64]
easily admit of er and est. But these terminations are scarcely ever used in comparing words of more than two
syllables.
We have some words, which, from custom, are irregular in respect of comparison; as, good, better, best; bad,
worse, worst, &c. Much amusement may be derived from the comparisons of adjectives, as made by natural
grammarians; a class of beings who generally inhabit the kitchen or stable, but may sometimes be met with in
more elevated regions. A few examples will not be out of place. We are not speaking of servants, but of degrees
of comparison; as,
POSITIVE. COMPARATIVE. SUPERLATIVE.
Good More better, Most best,
betterer or more bestest.
betterer.
Tight More tighter, Most tightest.
tighterer or more
tighterer.
Bad Wuss or wusser. Wust or wussest.
Handsome More handsomer like. Most handsomest.
Extravagant Extravaganter, Extravagantest,
more extravaganter. most extravagantest.
Stupid Stupider, Stupidest,
more stupider. most stupidest.
Little Littler, more littler. Littlest, most littlest.
With many others.
Here also may be adduced the Yankee’s “notion” of comparison; “My uncle’s a tarnation rogue; but I’m a [Pg 65]
tarnationer.”
SECTION II.
A FEW REMARKS ON THE SUBJECT OF COMPARISON.
Comparisons appear to have been strongly disapproved of by Dr. Johnson. “Sir,” said he, “the Whigs make
comparisons.” It must be confessed that the Doctor’s meaning is not quite so evident here as it is in general; but
that may be the fault of his biographer. Perhaps some of the Whigs had been making comparisons at his expense,
or impertinent comparisons, which his temper, being positive, may have tempted them to indulge in. Or they may
have been out in making their comparisons, which, in that case, must of course have been bad. But a truce to
speculations of this kind, on the saying of one, another of whose dogmas was, that “the man who could make a
pun would also pick a pocket.” We only hope, that such comparisons as we may make, will no more vex his
spirit now than they would once have aroused his bile.
Lindley Murray judiciously observes, that “if we consider the subject of comparison attentively, we shall perceive [Pg 66]
that the degrees of it are infinite in number, or at least indefinite:” and he proceeds to say, “A mountain is larger
than a mite; by how many degrees? How much bigger is the earth than a grain of sand? By how many degrees
was Socrates wiser than Alcibiades? or by how many is snow whiter than this paper? It is plain,” quoth Lindley,
“that to these and the like questions no definite answers can be returned.”
No; but an impertinent one may. Ask the first charity-boy you meet any one of them, and see if he does not
immediately respond, “Ax my eye;” or, “As much again as half.”
But when quantity can be exactly measured, the degrees of excess may be exactly ascertained. A foot is just
twelve times as long as an inch; a tailor is nine times less than a man.
Moreover, to compensate for the indefiniteness of the degrees of comparison, we use certain adverbs and words
of like import, whereby we render our meaning tolerably intelligible; as, “Byron was a much greater poet than
Muggins.” “Honey is a great deal sweeter than wax.” “Sugar is considerably more pleasant than the cane.”
“Maria says, that Dick the butcher is by far the most killing young man she knows.”
The words very, exceedingly, and the like, placed before the positive, give it the force of the superlative; and this [Pg 67]
is called by some the superlative of eminence, as distinguished from the superlative of comparison. Thus, Very
Reverend is termed the superlative of eminence, although it is the title of a dean, not of a cardinal; and Most
Reverend, the appellation of an Archbishop, is called the superlative of comparison.
A Bishop, in our opinion, is Most Excellent.
The comparative is sometimes so employed as to express the same pre-eminence or inferiority as the superlative.
For instance; the sentence, “Of all the cultivators of science, the botanist is the most crafty,” has the same meaning
as the following “The botanist is more crafty than any other cultivator of science.”
Why? some of our readers will ask—
Because he is acquainted with all sorts of plants.
OF PRONOUNS.
Pronouns or proxy-nouns are of three kinds; namely, the Personal, the Relative, and the Adjective Pronouns.
Note.—That when we said, some few pages back, that a pronoun was a word used instead of a noun, we did
not mean to call such words as thingumibob, whatsiname, what-d’ye-call-it, and the like, pronouns.
And that, although we shall proceed to treat of the pronouns in the English language, we shall have nothing to do,
at present, with what some people please to call pronoun-ciation.
SECTION I.
OF THE PERSONAL PRONOUNS.
“Mr. Haddams, don’t be personal, Sir!”
“I’m not, Sir.”
“You har, Sir!”
“What did I say, Sir?—tell me that.”
“You reflected on my perfession, Sir; you said, as there was some people as always stuck up for the cloth; and [Pg 69]
you insinnivated that certain parties dined off goose by means of cabbaging from the parish. I ask any gentleman
in the westry, if that an’t personal?”
A SELECT VESTRY.
The second is the object of much adulation and flattery, and now and then of a little abuse.
The third person is generally made small account of; and, amongst other grievances, suffers a great deal from
being frequently bitten about the back.
The Numbers of pronouns, like those of substantives, are, as we have already seen, two; the singular and the
plural.
In addressing yourself to anybody, it is customary to use the second person plural instead of the singular. This
practice most probably arose from a notion, that to be thought twice the man that the speaker was, gratified the
vanity of the person addressed. Thus, the French put a double Monsieur on the backs of their letters.
Editors say “We,” instead of “I,” out of modesty.
The Quakers continue to say “thee” and “thou,” in the use of which pronouns, as well as in the wearing of broad-
brimmed hats and of stand-up collars, they perceive a peculiar sanctity.
Gender has to do only with the third person singular of the pronouns, he, she, it. He is masculine; she is feminine;
it is neuter.
Pronouns have the like cases with substantives; the nominative, the possessive, and the objective. [Pg 73]
Would that they were the hardest cases to be met with in this country!
The personal pronouns are thus declined:—
FIRST PERSON FIRST PERSON
CASE. SINGULAR. PLURAL.
Nom. I We.
Poss. Mine Ours.
Obj. Me Us.
Pronouns, you see, are declined without fuss.
CASE. SECOND PERSON. SECOND PERSON.
Nom. Thou Ye or you.
Poss. Thine Yours.
Obj. Thee You.
How glad I shall be when my task I’ve got through!
Now the third person singular, as we before observed, has genders; and we shall therefore decline it in a different
way. Variety is charming.
THIRD PERSON SINGULAR.
CASE. MASC. FEM. NEUT.
Nom. He She It.
Well done Kit!
Poss. His. Hers Its.
Now Tom’s quits.
Obj. Him Her It. [Pg 74]
Deuce a bit!
CASE. PLURAL.
Nom. They
Poss. Theirs.
Obj. Them.
Reader, Mem.
We beg to inform thee, that the third person plural has no distinction of gender.
SECTION II.
OF THE RELATIVE PRONOUNS.
The Pronouns called Relative are such as relate, for the most part, to some word or phrase, called the antecedent,
on account of its going before: they are, who, which, and that: as, “The man who does not drink enough when
he can get it, is a fool; but he that drinks too much is a beast.”
What is usually equivalent to that which, and is, therefore, a kind of compound relative, containing both the
antecedent and the relative; as, “You want what you’ll very soon have!” that is to say, the thing which you will
very soon have.
Who is applied to persons, which to animals and things without life; as, “He is a gentleman who keeps a horse [Pg 75]
and lives respectably.” “To the dog which pinned the old woman, they cried, ‘Cæsar!’” “This is the tree which
Larkins called a helm.”
Larkins.—I say, Nibbs, ven is a helm box like a asthmatical chest?
Nibbs.—Ven it’s a coffin.
That, as a relative, is used to prevent the too frequent repetition of who and which, and is applied both to
persons and things; as, “He that stops the bottle is a Cork man.” “This is the house that Jack built.”
Who is of both numbers; and so is an Editor; for, according to what we observed just now, he is both singular
and plural. Who, we repeat, is of both numbers, and is thus declined:—
SINGULAR AND PLURAL.
Nominative. Who
Is the maiden to woo?
Genitive. Whose
Hand shall I choose?
Accusative. Whom
To despair shall I doom?
Which, that, and what are indeclinable; except that whose is sometimes used as the possessive case of which; [Pg 76]
as,
“The roe, poor dear, laments amain,
Whose sweet hart was by hunter slain.”
Thus whose is substituted for of which, in the following example:—
“There is a blacking famed, of which
The sale made Day and Martin rich;
There is another blacking, whose
Compounder patronised the Muse.”[2]
Who, which, and what, when they are used in asking questions, are called Interrogatives; as, “Who is Mr.
Walker?” “Which is the left side of a round plum-pudding?” “What is the damage?”
Those who have made popular phraseology their study, will have found that which is sometimes used for
whereas, and words of like signification; as in Dean Swift’s “Mary the Cookmaid’s Letter to Dr. Sheridan”:—
“And now I know whereby you would fain make an excuse,
Because my master one day in anger call’d you a goose; [Pg 77]
Which, and I am sure I have been his servant since October,
And he never called me worse than sweetheart, drunk or sober.”
What, or, to speak more improperly, wot, is generally substituted by cabmen and costermongers for who; as,
“The donkey wot wouldn’t go.” “The man wot sweeps the crossing.”
That, likewise, is very frequently rejected by the vulgar, who use as in its place; as, “Them as asks shan’t have
any; and them as don’t ask don’t want any.”
SECTION III.
OF THE ADJECTIVE PRONOUNS.
Adjective pronouns partake of the nature of both pronouns and adjectives. They may be subdivided into four
sorts: the possessive, the distributive, the demonstrative, and the indefinite.
The possessive pronouns are those which imply possession or property. Of these there are seven; namely, my,
thy, his, her, our, your, their.
The word self is added to possessives; as, myself, yourself, “Says I to myself, says I.”Self is also sometimes [Pg 78]
used with personal pronouns; as, himself, itself, themselves. His self is a common, but not a proper expression.
SELF-ESTEEM.
The distributive are three: each, every, either; they denote the individual persons or things separately, which,
when taken together, make up a number.
Each is used when two or more persons or things are mentioned singly; as, “each of the Catos;” “each of the [Pg 79]
Browns.”
Every relates to one out of several; as, “Every mare is a horse, but every horse is not a mare.”
Either refers to one out of two; as,
“When I between two jockeys ride,
I have a knave on either side.”
Neither signifies “not either;” as “Neither of the Bacons was related to Hogg.”
The demonstrative pronouns precisely point out the subjects to which they relate; such are this and that, with
their plurals these and those; as, “This is a foreign Prince; that is an English Peer.”
This refers to the nearest person or thing, and to the latter or last mentioned; that to the most distant, and to the
former or first mentioned; as, “This is a man; that is a nondescript.” “At the period of the Reformation in
Scotland, a curious contrast between the ancient and modern ecclesiastical systems was observed; for while that
had been always maintained by a Bull, this was now supported by a Knox.”
The indefinite are those which express their subjects in an indefinite or general manner; as, some, other, any, one,
all, such, &c.
When the definite article the comes before the word other, those who do not know better, are accustomed to [Pg 80]
strike out the he in the, and to say, t’other.
The same persons also use other in the comparative degree; for sometimes, instead of saying quite the reverse, or
perhaps rewerse, they avail themselves of the expression, more t’other.
So much for the Pronouns.
OF VERBS.
SECTION I.
OF THE NATURE OF VERBS IN GENERAL.
The nature of Verbs in general, and that in all languages, is, that they are the most difficult things in the Grammar.
Verbs are divided into Active, Passive, and Neuter; and also into Regular, Irregular, and Defective. To these
divisions we beg to add another; Verbs Comic.
A Verb Active implies an agent, and an object acted upon; as, to love; “I love Wilhelmina Stubbs.” Here, I am
the agent; that is, the lover; and Wilhelmina Stubbs is the object acted upon, or the beloved object.
A Verb Passive expresses the suffering, feeling, or undergoing of something; and therefore implies an object acted
upon, and an agent by which it is acted upon; as, to be loved; “Wilhelmina Stubbs is loved by me.”
A Verb Neuter expresses neither action nor passion, but a state of being; as, I bounce, I lie. [Pg 82]
“Fact, Madam!”
“Gracious, Major!”
Of Verbs Regular, Irregular, and Defective, we shall have somewhat to say hereafter.
Verbs Comic are, for the most part, verbs which cannot be found in the dictionary, and are used to express [Pg 83]
ordinary actions in a jocular manner; as, to “morris,” to “bolt,” to “mizzle,” which signify to go or to depart; to
“bone,” to “prig,” that is to say, to steal; to “collar,” which means to seize, an expression probably derived from
the mode of prehension, or rather apprehension characteristic of the New Police, as it is one very much in the
mouths of those who most frequently come in contact with that body: to “lush,” or drink; to “grub,” or eat; to
“sell,” or deceive, &c.
Under the head of Verbs Comic, the Yankee-isms, I “calculate,” I “reckon,” I “realise,” I “guess,” and the like,
may also be properly enumerated.
Auxiliary, or helping Verbs (by the way, we marvel that the Americans do not call their servants auxiliaries instead
of helps,) are those, by the help of which we are chiefly enabled to conjugate our verbs in English. They are, do,
be, have, shall, will, may, can, with their variations; and let and must, which have no variation.
Let, however, when it is anything but a helping verb, as, for instance, when it signifies to hinder, makes lettest
and letteth. The phrase, “This House to Let,” generally used instead of “to be let,” really meaning the reverse of
what it is intended to convey, is a piece of comic English.
To verbs belong Number, Person, Mood, and Tense. These may be called the properties of a verb; and like [Pg 84]
those of opium, they are soporiferous properties. There are two very important objects which the writer of every
book has, or ought to have in view, to get a reader who is wide awake, and to keep him so:—the latter of which,
when Number, Person, Mood, and Tense are to be treated of, is no such easy matter; seeing that the said writer
is then in some danger of going to sleep himself. Never mind. If we nod, let the reader wink. What can’t be cured
must be endured.
SECTION II.
OF NUMBER AND PERSON.
Verbs have two numbers, the Singular and the Plural; as, “I fiddle, we fiddle,” &c.
In each number there are three persons; as
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
First Person I love We love.
Second Person Thou lovest Ye or you love.
Third Person He loves They love.
What a deal there is in every Grammar about love! Here the following Lines, by a Young Lady (now no more),
addressed to Lindley Murray, deserve to be recorded:—
“Oh, Murray! fatal name to me, [Pg 85]
Thy burning page with tears is wet;
Since first ‘to love’ I learned of thee,
Teach me, ah! teach me ‘to forget!’”
SECTION III.
OF MOODS AND PARTICIPLES.
Mood or Mode is a particular form of the verb, or a certain variation which it undergoes, showing the manner in
which the being, action, or passion, is represented.
The moods of verbs are five, the Indicative, the Imperative, the Potential, the Subjunctive, and the Infinitive.
The Indicative Mood simply points out or declares a thing: as, “He teaches, he is taught;” or it asks a question: as,
“Does he teach? Is he taught?”
Q. Why is old age the best teacher?
A. Because he gives you the most wrinkles.
Q. Why does a rope support a rope-dancer?
A. Because it is taught.
The Imperative Mood commands, exhorts, entreats, or permits: as, “Vanish thou; trot ye; let us hop; be off!”
The Potential Mood implies possibility or liberty, power, will, or obligation: as, “A waiter may be honest. You [Pg 86]
may stand upon truth or lie. I can filch. He would cozen. They should learn.”
The Subjunctive Mood is used to represent a thing as done conditionally; and is preceded by a conjunction,
expressed or understood, and accompanied by another verb: as, “If the skies should fall, larks would be caught.”
“Were I to punch your head, I should serve you right;” that is, “if I were to punch your head.”
The Infinitive Mood expresses a thing generally, without limitation, and without any distinction of number or
person: as, “to quarrel, to fight, to be licked.”
The Participle is a peculiar form of the verb, and is so called, because it participates in the properties both of a
verb and of an adjective: as, “May I have the pleasure ofdancing with you?” “Mounted on a tub he addressed
the bystanders.” “Having uplifted a stave, they departed.”
The Participles are three; the Present or Active, the Perfect or Passive, and the Compound Perfect: as, “I felt
nervous at the thought of popping the question, but that once popped, I was not sorry for having popped it.”
The worst of popping the question is, that the report is always sure to get abroad.
[Pg 87]
SECTION IV.
OF THE TENSES.
Tense is the distinction of time, and consists of six divisions, namely, the Present, the Imperfect, the Perfect, the
Pluperfect, and the First and Second Future Tenses.
Time is also distinguished by a fore lock, scythe, and hour-glass; but the youthful reader must bear in mind, that
these things are not to be confounded with tenses.
The Present Tense, as its name implies, represents an action or event occurring at the present time: as, “I lament;
rogues prosper; the mob rules.”
The Imperfect Tense represents a past action or event, but which, like a mutton chop, may be either thoroughly
done, or not thoroughly done; were it meet, we should say under-done: as,
“When I was a little boy some fifteen years ago,
My mammy doted on me—Lork! she made me quite a show.”
“When our reporter left, the Honourable Gentleman was still on his legs.”
The legs of most “Honourable Gentlemen” must be tolerably stout ones; for the “majority” do not stand on trifles. [Pg 88]
However, we are not going to commit ourselves, like some folks, nor to get committed, like other folks; so we
will leave “Honourable Gentlemen” to manage matters their own way.
The Perfect Tense declares a thing to have been done at some time, though an indefinite one, antecedent to the
present time. That, however, which the Perfect Tense represents as done, is completely, or, as we say of John
Bull, when he is humbugged by the thimble-rig people, regularly done; as, “I have been out on the river.” “I have
caught a crab.”
Catching a crab is a thing regularly (in another sense than completely) done, when civic swains pull young ladies
up to Richmond. We beg to inform persons unacquainted with aquatic phraseology, that “pulling up” young ladies,
or others, is a very different thing from “pulling up” an omnibus conductor or a cabman. What an equivocal
language is ours! How much less agreeable to be “pulled up” at Bow Street than to be “pulled up” in a wherry!
how wide the discrepancy between “pulling up” radishes and “pulling up” horses!
The Pluperfect Tense represents a thing as doubly past; that is, as past previously to some other point of time also [Pg 89]
past; as, “I fell in love before I had arrived at years of discretion.”
The First Future Tense represents the action as yet to come, either at a certain or an uncertain time; as, “The tailor [Pg 90]
will send my coat home to-morrow; and when I find it perfectly convenient, I shall pay him.”
The Second Future intimates that the action will be completed at or before the time of another future action or
event; as, “I wonder how many conquests I shall have made by to-morrow morning.”
N.B. One ball is often the means of killing a great many people.
The consideration of the tenses suggests various moral reflections to the thinking mind.
A few examples will perhaps suffice:—
1. Present, though moderate fruition, is preferable to splendid, but contingent futurity; i. e. A bird in the hand is
worth two in the bush.
2. Imperfect nutrition is less to be deprecated than privation of aliment;—a new way of putting an old proverb,
which we need not again insert, respecting half a loaf.
3. Perfect callidity was the distinguishing attribute of the Curved Pedestrian.
Callidity is another word for craftiness; but for the exercise of the reader’s ingenuity, we forbear to mention the
person alluded to as so remarkable for his astutious qualities.
Q. What species of writing is most conducive to morality? [Pg 91]
A. Text-hand.
SECTION V.
the conjugation of the auxiliary verbs To Have and To Be.
We have observed that boys, in conjugating verbs, give no indications of delight, except that which an ingenuous
disposition always feels in the acquisition of knowledge. Now, having arrived at that part of the Grammar in which
it becomes necessary that these same verbs should be considered, we feel ourselves in an awkward dilemma. The
omission of the conjugations is a serious omission—which, of course, is objectionable in a comic work—and the
insertion of them would be equally serious, and therefore quite as improper. What shall we do? We will adopt a
middle course; referring the reader to Murray and other talented authors for full information on these matters; and
requesting him to be content with our confining ourselves to what is more especially suitable to these pages—a
short summary of the Comicalities of verbs.
The Conjugation of a verb is the combination and arrangement of its numbers, persons, moods, and tenses. [Pg 92]
The Comicalities of verbs consist in certain liberties taken with their numbers, persons, moods, and tenses.
The Conjugation of an active verb is called the Active Voice, and that of a passive Verb the Passive Voice.
If verbs have voices, it is but reasonable that walls should have ears.
The auxiliary and active verb To Have is thus peculiarly conjugated by some people in some of its moods and
tenses.
TO HAVE.
INDICATIVE MOOD.
PRESENT TENSE.
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
1. Pers. I has. 1. Pers. We has.
2. Thee’st. 2. Ye or you has.
3. He’ve. 3. They has.
PERFECT TENSE.
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
1. I’ze had. 1. We’ze had.
2. Thee’st had. 2. Ye or you’ze had.
3. He’ve had. 3. They’ze had.
[Pg 93]
IMPERATIVE MOOD.
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
1. Let me ha’. 1. Let’s ha’.
2. Ha’, or ha thou, or do thee ha’. 2. Ha, or ha ye, or do ye, or you ha’.
3. Let un ha’. 3. Let um ha’.
POTENTIAL MOOD.
PRESENT TENSE.
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
1. I med or can ha’. 1. We med or can ha’.
2. Thee medst or canst ha’. 2. Ye or you med or can ha’.
3. He med or can ha’. 3. They med or can ha’.
SUBJUNCTIVE MOOD.
PRESENT TENSE.
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
1. If I has. 1. If we has.
2. If thee hast 2. If ye or you has.
3. If he ha’. 3. If they has.
[Pg 94]
INFINITIVE MOOD.
Present, To ha’. Perfect, To a had.
PARTICIPLES.
Present or Active, Havun or Avun.
Perfect, ’Ad.
Compound Perfect, Havun ’ad.
The auxiliary and neuter verb To Be, is maltreated as follows:
TO BE.
(Toby or not Toby?—that is the question!)
INDICATIVE MOOD.
PRESENT TENSE.
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
1. I be. 1. We be.
2. Thee bist. 2. Ye or you be.
3. He, she or it am. 3. They be or am.
IMPERFECT TENSE.
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
1. I wor, or wus. 1. We wus.
2. Thee wort. 2. Ye or you wus.
3. He wur. 3. They wur.
“When I say as you was, I mean, as you were.”
[Pg 95]
PERFECT TENSE.
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
1. I’ve a bin. 1. We’ve a bin.
2. Thee’st a bin. 2. Ye or you’ve a bin.
3. He’ve a bin. 3. They’ve a bin.
IMPERATIVE MOOD.
SINGULAR. PLURAL.
1. Let I be. 1. Let we be.
2. Be thee or ’st thee be. 2. Do ’ee be.
3. Let un be. 3. Let um be.
INFINITIVE MOOD.
Present Tense, For to be. Perfect, For to ha’ bin.
PARTICIPLES.
Present, Beun. Perfect, Bin.
Compound Perfect, Havun bin.
If being a younster, I had not been smitten,
Of having been jilted I should not complain,
Take warning from me all ye lads who are bitten,
When this part of Grammar occurs to your brain.
As there is a certain intensity of feeling abroad, which renders people indisposed to trouble themselves with
verbal matters, we shall take the liberty of making very short work of the Regular Verbs. Even Murray can only
afford to conjugate one example,—To Love. The learner must amplify this part of the Grammar for himself: and [Pg 96]
we recommend him to substitute for “to love,” some word less harrowing to a sensitive mind: as, “to fleece, to
tax,” verbs which excite disagreeable emotions only in a sordid one; and which also, by association of ideas,
conduct us to useful reflections on Political Economy. We advise all whom it may concern, however, to pay the
greatest attention to this part of the Grammar, and before they come to the Verbs Regular, to make a particular
study of the Auxiliary Verbs: not only for the excellent reasons set forth in “Tristram Shandy,” but also to avoid
those awkward mistakes in which the Comicalities of the Verbs, or Verbal Comicalities, chiefly consist.
“Did it rain to-morrow?” asked Monsieur Grenouille.
“Yes it was!” replied Monsieur Crapaud.
We propose the following as an auxiliary mode of conjugating verbs:—“I love to roam on the crested foam,
Thou lovest to roam on the crested foam, He loves to roam on the crested foam, We love to roam on the crested
foam, Ye or you love to roam on the crested foam, They love to roam on the crested foam,” &c. These words, if
set to music, might serve for a grammatical glee, and would, at all events, be productive of mirth.
[Pg 97]
The Auxiliary Verbs, too, are very useful when a peculiar emphasis is required: as, “I shall give you a drubbing!”
“Will you?” “I know a trick worth two of that.” “Do you, though?” “It might,” as the Quaker said to the Yankee,
who wanted to know what his name might be; “it might be Beelzebub, but it is not.”
Now we may as well say what we have to say about the conjugation of regular verbs active.
[Pg 98]
SECTION VI.
THE CONJUGATION OF REGULAR VERBS ACTIVE.
Regular Verbs Active are known by their forming their imperfect tense of the indicative mood, and their perfect
participle, by adding to the verb ed, or d only when the verb ends in e: as,
PRESENT. IMPERFECT. PERF. PARTICIP.
I reckon. I reckoned. Reckoned.
I realise. I realised. Realised.
Here should follow the conjugation of the regular active verb, or, as a Cockney Romeo would say, the regular
torturing verb, To Love; but we have already assigned a good reason for omitting it; besides which we have to
say, that we think it a verb highly unfit for conjugation by youth, as it tends to put ideas into their heads which they
would otherwise never have thought of; and it is moreover our opinion, that several of our most gifted poets may,
with reason, have attributed those unfortunate attachments which, though formed in early youth, served to
embitter their whole lives, to the poison which they thus sucked in with the milk, so to speak, of their Mother
Tongue, the Grammar.
PASSIVE. [Pg 99]
Verbs Passive are said to be regular, when their perfect participle is formed by the addition of d, or ed to the
verb: as, from the verb “To bless,” is formed the passive, “I am blessed, I was blessed, I shall be blessed,” &c.
The conjugation of a passive verb is nothing more than the repetition of that of the auxiliary To Be, the perfect
participle being added.
And now, having cut the regular verbs (as Alexander did the Gordian knot) instead of conjugating them, let us
proceed to consider the
IRREGULAR VERBS.
SECTION VII.
Irregular Verbs are those of which the imperfect tense and the perfect participle are not formed by adding d or ed
to the verb: as,
PRESENT. IMPERFECT. PERFECT PART.
I blow. I blew. blown.
To say I am blown, is, under certain circumstances, such as windy and tempestuous weather, proper enough; but
I am blowed, it will at once be perceived, is not only an ungrammatical, but also a vulgar expression.
Great liberties are taken with the Irregular Verbs, insomuch that in the mouths of some persons, divers of them [Pg 100]
become doubly irregular in the formation of their participles. Among such Irregular Verbs we may enumerate the
following:—
PRESENT. IMPERFECT. PERF. OR PASS. PART.
Am wur bin.
Beat bet or bate bate.
Burst bust busted.
Catch cotch cotched
Come kim comed.
Creep crup crup.
Drive druv driv.
Freeze friz froze.
Give guv giv.
Go goed went.
Rise riz rose.
See sid sin, &c.
Some verbs which in this country are held to be regular, are treated as irregular verbs in America: as,
PRESENT. IMPERFECT. PERF. OR PASS. PART.
Row rew rown.
Snow snew snown.
[Pg 101]
SECTION VIII.
OF DEFECTIVE VERBS.
Most men have five senses,
Most verbs have six tenses;
But as there are some folks
Who are blind, deaf, or dumb folks,
Just so there are some verbs
Defective, or rum verbs,
which are used only in some of their moods and tenses.
The principal of them are these:—
IMPERF. PERF. OR PASS. PART.
Can could nix.
May might —
Shall should —
Will would —
Must must —
Ought ought —
— quoth —
There is not, perhaps, anything in the defective verbs peculiarly valuable in a comic point of view. However, it
should not be forgotten, that
Can is one of the signs of the pot-ential Mood;
Will, Would reminds us of the Drapier’s Letters.
“Must” is for the House of Commons (it used to be for the King).
Ought, ought, with 1 before it, stands, (in schoolboy phrase) for 100. [Pg 102]
OF ADVERBS.
Having as great a dislike as the youngest of our readers can have to repetitions, we shall not say what an adverb
is over again. It is, nevertheless, right to observe, that some adverbs are compared: as, far, farther, farthest; near,
nearer, nearest. In comparing those which end in ly, we use more and most: as, slowly, more slowly, most
slowly.
Q. Who, of all the civic functionaries, moves “most slowly?”
A. Mr. Hobler.
There are a great many adverbs in the English Language: their number is probably even greater than that of
abusive epithets. They are divisible into certain classes; the chief of which are Number, Order, Place, Time,
Quantity, Manner or Quality, Doubt, Affirmation, Negation, Interrogation, and Comparison.
A nice little list, truly! and perhaps some of our readers may suppose that we are going to exemplify it at length: if
so, all we can say with regard to their expectation is, that we wish they may get it gratified. In the meantime, we [Pg 104]
will not turn our Grammar into a dictionary, to please anybody. However, we have no objection to a brief
illustration of the uses and properties of adverbs, as contained in the following passage:—
“Formerly, when first I began to preach and to teach, whithersoever I went, the little boys followed me, and
now and then pelted me with brick-bats, as heretofore they pelted Ebenezer Grimes. And whensoever I
opened my mouth, straightways the ungodly began to crow. Oftentimes was I hit in the mouth with an orange:
yea, and once, moreover, with a rotten egg; whereat there was much laughter, which, notwithstanding, I took
in good part, and wiped my face, and looked pleasantly. For peradventure I said, they will listen to my sermon;
yea, and after that we may have a collection. So I was nowise discomfited; wherefore I advise thee, Brother
Habakkuk, to take no heed of thy persecutors, seeing that I, whereas I was once little better off than thyself,
have now a chapel of mine own. And herein let thy mind be comforted, that, preach as much as thou wilt against
the Bishop, thou wilt not, therefore, in these days, be in danger of the pillory. Howbeit,” &c.
Vide Life of the late pious and Rev. Samuel Simcox (letter to Habbakuk Brown).
OF PREPOSITIONS.
Prepositions are, for the most part, put before nouns and pronouns: as, “out of the frying-pan into the fire.”
Two prepositions, with and without, are sometimes (as we have been informed) used in the place of
substantives: as, “cold without, warm with.”
The preposition of is sometimes used as a part of speech of peculiar signification, and one to which no name has
as yet been applied: as, “What have you been doing of?”
At and up are not rarely used as verbs, but we should scarcely have been justified in so classing them by the
authority of any polite writer; such use of them being confined to the vulgar: as, “Now then, Bill, at him again.”
“So she upped with her fists, and fetched him a whop.”
After is improperly pronounced arter, and against, agin: as, “Hallo! Jim, vot are youarter? don’t you know
that ere’s agin the Law?”
OF CONJUNCTIONS.
A Conjunction means literally, a union or meeting together. An ill-assorted marriage is
A COMICAL CONJUNCTION.
But our conjunctions are used to connect words and sentences, and have nothing to do with the joining of hands. [Pg 107]
They are chiefly of two sorts, the Copulative and Disjunctive.
The Copulative Conjunction is employed for the connection or continuation of a sentence: as, “Jackand Gill went
up the Hill,” “I will sing a song if Gubbins will,” “A thirsty man is like a City Giant, because he is a Gog for drink.”
The Conjunction Disjunctive is used not only for purposes of connection, but also to express opposition of
meaning in different degrees: as, “Though Lord John is as cunning as a Fox, yet Sir Robert is as deep as a Pitt.”
“We pay less for our letters, but shall have to pay more for our panes: they have lightened our postage, but they
will darken our rooms.”
Conjunctions are the hooks and eyes of Language, in which, as well as in dress, it is very possible to make an
awkward use of them: as, “For if the year consist of 365 days 6 hours, and January have 31 days, then the
relation between the corpuscular theory of light and the new views of Mr. Owen is at once subverted: for, ‘When
Ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise:’ because 1760 yards make a mile; and it is universally acknowledged that
‘war is the madness of many for the gain of a few:’ therefore Sir Isaac Newton was quite right in supposing the [Pg 108]
diamond to be combustible.”
The word as, so often used in this and other Grammars, is a conjunction: as, “Mrs. A. is as well as can be
expected.”
The Siamese twins formed a singular conjunction. [Pg 109]
A tin pot fastened to a dog’s tail is a disagreeable conjunction to the unfortunate animal.
A happy pair may be regarded as an uncommon conjunction.
INTERJECTIONS.
We have said almost enough about their Etymology already. Still, it may not be superfluous to bestow a passing
notice on the singularly expressive character of certain of these parts of speech, heard, it is true, repeatedly; but
unaccountably omitted in all previous Grammars. For instance, how many lives does the warning, “Hoy!” of the
coachman or cab-driver daily save? What an amount of infantile aberrations from propriety is the admonitory
“Paw-paw!” the means of checking. With what felicity is acquiescence denoted by “Umph!” The utility of the
Interjections on various occasions, such as our meals, for example, in enabling us to economise our speech, is
very striking.
OF DERIVATION.
Those who know Latin, Greek, Saxon, and the other languages from which our own is formed, do not require to
be instructed in philological derivation; and on those who do not understand the said tongues, such instruction
would be thrown away. In what manner English words are derived, one from another, the generality of persons
know very well: there are, however, a few words and phrases, which it is expedient to trace to their respective
sources; not only because such an exercise is of itself delightful to the inquiring mind; but because we shall thereby
be furnished (as we hope to show) with a test by means of which, on hearing an expression for the first time, we
shall be able, in most instances, to decide at once respecting its nature and quality.
There are several words in the English Language which were originally Terms of Art, but came in process of time
to be applied metaphorically to the common purposes of discourse. Thus lodgings are sometimes called quarters; [Pg 112]
a word which, in its restricted sense, signifies the lodgings of soldiers; ill habits, like diseases, are said to be
remedied; men hope, as if indicted for an offence, that ladies will acquit them of inattention, and so forth. When,
as in the instances cited, the word or phrase can be traced back either to one of the Learned Professions, or to
any source savouring of gentility, it is esteemed a proper one, and there is no objection to its use.
Now we have divers other words, of which many have but recently come into vogue, which, though by no means
improper or immoral, are absolutely unutterable in any polite assembly. It is not, at first, very easy to see what can
be the objection to their use; but derivation explains it for us in the most satisfactory manner. The truth is, that the
expressions in question take their origin from various trades and occupations, in which they have, for the most
part, a literal meaning; and we now perceive what horrible suspicions respecting one’s birth, habits, and
education, their figurative employment would be likely to excite. To make the matter indisputably clear, we will
explain our position by a few examples.
[Pg 113]
WORDS AND PHRASES. WHAT DERIVED FROM.
Bone (to steal), Butchers.
Chisel (to cheat), Carpenters.
Clout (to beat), Scullions.
To cut it fat, Cooks.
To come it strong, Publicans.
To draw it mild, Ditto.
To drop off the hooks, Butchers.
To miss your tip, Footmen.
To be done, Cooks.
To be done brown, Ditto.
To collar (to seize), Thieves or policemen.
To be walked off, Ditto.
A sell, Jews.
A shine, Shoe-boys.
A wipe (a handkerchief), Blackguards in general, from its use.
A mawley (a hand), Prizefighters.
To welt (to beat), Cobblers.
To leather (ditto), Ditto.
To strap (ditto), Ditto.
To hide (ditto), Curriers.
Spicy (showy), Grocers.
To hang out (to dwell), Publicans.
A drag (carriage), Stage-coachmen.
Swamped (ruined), Watermen.
To put one’s oar in (to interfere), Watermen. [Pg 114]
Get on with your barrow, Dogs’-meat-men.
Kidderminster (for carpet), Upholsterers.
Mahogany (for table), Ditto.
Dodge (trick), Pickpockets.
(N.B. All those are obliged to have recourse to the dodge, who are in the habit of outrunning the constable.)
But, to proceed with our Etymology:
To bung up an eye, Brewers.
To chalk down, Publicans.
A close shaver (a miser), Barbers.
To be off your feed, Ostlers.
Hold hard (stop), Omnibus-men.
Numerous examples, similar to the foregoing, will, no doubt, present themselves, in addition, to the mind of the
enlightened student. We have not, however, quite done yet with our remarks on this division of our subject. The
intrinsic vulgarity of all modes of speech which may be traced to mean or disreputable persons, will, of course,
not be questioned. But—and as we have got hold of a nice bone, we may as well get all the marrow we can out
of it—the principle which is now under consideration has a much wider range than is apparent at first sight. [Pg 115]
Now we will suppose a red-hot lover addressing the goddess of his idolatry—by the way, how strange it is, that
these goddesses should be always having their temples on fire, that a Queen of Hearts should ever be seated on a
burning throne!—but to return to the lover: he was to say something. Well, then, let A. B. be the lover. He
expresses himself thus:—
“Mary, my earthly hopes are centred in you. You need not doubt me; my heart is true as the dial to the sun.
Words cannot express how much I love you. Nor is my affection an ordinary feeling: it is a more exalted and a
more enduring sentiment than that which usually bears its name. I have done. I am not eloquent: I can say no
more, than that I deeply and sincerely love you.”
This, perhaps, will be regarded by connoisseurs as tolerably pathetic, and for the kind of thing not very ridiculous.
Now, let A. S. S. be the lover; and let us have his version of the same story:—
“Mary, my capital in life is invested in you. You need not stick at giving me credit; my heart is as safe as the Bank
of England. The sum total of my love for you defies calculation. Nor is my attachment anything in the common
way. It is a superior and more durable article than that in general wear. My stock of words is exhausted. I am no [Pg 116]
wholesale dealer in that line. All I can say is, that I have a vast fund of unadulterated affection for you.”
In this effusion the Stock Exchange, the Multiplication Table, and the Linendraper’s and Grocer’s shops have
been drawn upon for a clothing to the suitor’s ideas; and by an unhappy choice of words, the most delightful and
amiable feelings of our nature, without which Life would be a Desert and Man a bear, are invested with a
ridiculous disguise.
We would willingly enlarge upon the topic which we have thus slightly handled, but that we feel that we should by
so doing, intrench too far on the boundaries of Rhetoric, to which science, more particularly than to Grammar, the
consideration of Metaphor belongs; besides which, it is high time to have done with Etymology. Here, then,
gentlemen, if you please, we shall pull up.
“Pull up! what an expression!”
“Well, Sir, did you never hear that next to the Bar the first school of grammatical elegance is the Stage?”
[Pg 117]
PART III.
SYNTAX.
“Now then, reader, if you are quite ready, we are—All right! * * * *”
The asterisks are intended to stand for a word used in speaking to horses. Don’t blush, young ladies; there’s not a
shadow of harm in it: but as to spelling it, we are as unable to do so as the ostler’s boy was, who was thrashed
for his ignorance by his father.
“Where are we now, coachman?”
SYNTAX.
“The third part of Grammar, Sir, wot treats of the agreement and construction of words in a sentence.”
“Does a coachman say wot for which because he has a licence?”
“Can’t say, Ma’am?”
“Drive on, coachman.”
And we must drive on, or boil on, or whatever it is the fashion to call getting on in these times.
A sentence is an aggregate of words forming a complete sense. [Pg 118]
Other phrases consist of words put together by ladies: as, “A duck of a man,” “A love of a shawl,” “so nice,” [Pg 121]
“quite refreshing,” “sweetly pretty.” “Did you ever?” “No I never!”
Other phrases again consist of French and English words put together by people of quality, because their
knowledge of both languages is pretty nearly equal: as, “I am au désespoir,” “mis hors de combat,” “quite
ennuyé,” or rather in nine cases out of ten, “ennuyée,”—“I have a great envie” to do so and so. These constitute
an important variety of comic English.
Besides the above, there are various phrases which we may call elliptical phrases, consisting principally of the
peculiar terms employed in the different trades and professions: as,
“A Milton Lost,” by booksellers.
“A Lady (of the Lake) in sheets,” do.
“One college (pudding) for No. 6,” by waiters.
“To carry off:” as, “See how the old woman in a red cloak carries off the tower,” by painters, &c.
The principal parts of a simple sentence are, the subject, the attribute, and the object.
If you want to know what subjects and objects are, you should go to the Morgue at Paris. But in Grammar—
The subject is the thing chiefly spoken of; the attribute is that which is affirmed or denied of it; and the object is
the thing affected by such action.
The nominative denotes the subject, and usually goes before the verb or attribute; and the word or phrase, [Pg 122]
denoting the object, follows the verb; as, “The flirt torments her lover.” Here, a flirt is the subject; torments, the
attribute or thing affirmed; and her lover, the object.
Yes, and a pretty object he is too, sometimes. But then we shall be told that he is not an object—of attachment. [Pg 123]
Alas! that is the very reason why he is an object—of compassion, or ridicule, according to people’s dispositions.
It may be also said that the flirt herself is a pretty object. All we can say is, that we never saw such a flirt, nor do
we believe that we ever shall.
To torment, it seems, is the attribute of the flirt, as it is that of the ——. Well! no matter. Much good may the
fellowship do her: that is all!
It strikes us, though, that we are somewhat digressing from our subject, namely Syntax, which,
Principally consists of two parts (which the flirt does not, for she is all body and no soul) Concord and
Government.
Concord is the agreement which one word has with another, in gender, number, case or person.
Note.—That a want of agreement between words does not invalidate deeds. We apprehend that such an
engagement as the following, properly authenticated, would hold good in law.
I ose Jon stubs too Poun for valley reseved an promis to pay Him Nex Sattaday
Signed Willum Gibs is Mark
March 18, 1840.
Also that a friend of ours, to whom the following bill was sent, could not have refused to discharge it on the score [Pg 124]
of its incorrect grammar.
1835 Mr. ——
Jenery 10 To J. Burton.
l. s. d.
Reparing of Towo Tables & Muex Stand 0 4 0
Aultern of 2 Blines & Toulroler 0 1 0
Botal jock braket & seter jobs (et cetera) 0 4 0
Newpot board Barers & scirtin &c. stapel 0 5 0
Locks to Cubard dowrs & Esing do laying 0 7 0
down flour cloth & fiting up Top of Butt
Fixing Lether to Dowrs in parlor & Cuting 0 4 0
of sheters in first flour
1 Blin 2 par of Roler End & Rack puleys 0 2 10
fixing of certin Laths in Largin of ole of
washing stand & 2 holefass
Fixing webbin to Stand and fixing Legs to 0 1 6
washing stule
Fiting up front of Dustbin & Cubbard on 0 2 0
Landing altern lock of seler dowr
1 11 4
Government is that power which one part of speech has over another, in directing its mood, tense, or case. [Pg 125]
Government is also that power, of which, if the Chartists have their way, we shall soon see very little in this
country.
Hurrah!
No taxes!
No army!
No navy!
No parsons!
No lawyers!
No Commons!
No Lords!
No anything!
No nothing!
To produce the agreement and right disposition of words in a sentence, the following rules (and observations?)
should be carefully studied.
RULE I.
A verb must agree with its nominative case in number and person: as, “I perceive.” “Thou hast been to Brixton.”
“Apes chatter.” “Frenchmen gabble.”
Certain liberties are sometimes taken with this rule: as, “I own I likes good beer.” “You’m a fine fellow, aint yer?” [Pg 126]
“He’ve been to the Squire’s.” Such modes of speaking are adopted by those who neither know nor care anything
about grammatical correctness: but there are other persons who care a great deal about it, but unfortunately do
not know what it consists in. Such folks are very fond of saying, “How it rain!” “It fit you very well.” “He say he
think it very unbecoming,” “I were gone before you was come,” and so forth, in which forms of speech they
perceive a peculiar elegance.
The infinitive mood, or part of a sentence, is sometimes used as the nominative case to the verb: as “to be good is
to be happy:” which is as grammatical an assertion as “Toby Good is Toby Happy;” and rather surpasses it in
respect of sense. “That two pippins are a pair, is a proposition which no man in his senses will deny.”
“To be a connoisseur in boots,
To hate all rational pursuits,
To make your money fly, as though
Gold would as fast as mushrooms grow;
To haunt the Opera, save whene’er
There’s anything worth hearing there;
To smirk, to smile, to bow, to dance,
To talk of what they eat in France,
[Pg 127]
[Pg 127]
To languish, simper, sue, and sigh,
And stuff her head with flattery;
Are means to gain that worthless part
A fashionable lady’s heart.”
Here are examples enough, in all conscience, of infinitive moods serving as nominative cases.
All verbs, save only in the infinitive mood or participle, require a nominative case either expressed or understood:
as, “Row with me down the river,” that is “Row thou, or do thou row.” “Come where the aspens quiver,” “come
thou, or do thou come.” “Fly not yet;” “fly not thou, or do not thou fly.” “Pass the ruby;” “pass thou, or do thou
pass the ruby” (not the Rubicon). “Drink to me only;” “drink thou, or do thou drink only.” “Wake, dearest,
wake;” “wake thou, or do thou wake.” “Tell her I love her;” “tell thou, or do thou tell her I love her.” In short,
you cannot listen to a hawker of ballads, crying his commodities about the streets, without hearing illustrations of
the foregoing rule. “Move on!” the well known mandate of policemen to those who create obstructions, is a very
common exemplification of it. The nominative case is easily understood in the latter instance; and the person
addressed, if he pretend that it is not, does so at his own peril.
A well known popular song affords an example of the violation of this rule. [Pg 128]
The verb applauded has here no nominative case, whereas it ought to have been governed by the pronoun he.
“He very much applauded,” &c.
Every nominative case, except when made absolute, or used, like the Latin Vocative, in addressing a person, [Pg 129]
should belong to some verb, implied if not expressed. A beautiful example of this grammatical maxim, and one,
too, that explains itself, is impressed upon the mind very soon after its first introduction to letters: as,
“Who kill’d Cock Robin?
I, said the sparrow,
With my bow and arrow;
I kill’d Cock Robin.”
Of the neglect of this rule also, the ballad lately mentioned presents an instance: as,
“Four-and-twenty brisk young fellows
Clad in jackets, blue array,—
And they took poor Billy Taylor
From his true love all avay.”
The only verb in these four lines is the verb took, which is governed by the pronoun they. The four-and-twenty
brisk young fellows, therefore, though undeniably in the nominative, have no verb to belong to: while, at the same
time, whatever may be thought of their behaviour to Mr. William Taylor, they are certainly not absolute in point
of case.
When a verb comes between two nouns, either of which may be taken as the subject of the affirmation, it may [Pg 130]
agree with either of them: as, “Two-and-sixpence is half-a-crown.” Due regard, however, should be paid to that
noun which is most naturally the subject of the verb: it would be clearly wrong to say, “Ducks and green peas is a
delicacy.” “Fleas is a nuisance.”
A nominative case, standing without a personal tense of a verb, and being put before a participle, independently
of the rest of the sentence, is called a case absolute: as, “My brethren, to-morrow being Sunday, I shall preach a
sermon in Smithfield; after which we shall join in a hymn, and that having been sung, Brother Biggs will address
you.”
The objective case is sometimes incorrectly made absolute by showmen and others: as, “Here, gentlemen and
ladies, you will see that great warrior Napoleon Bonaparte, standing agin a tree with his hands in his pockets, him
taking good care to keep out of harm’s vay. And there, on the extreme right, you will observe the Duky Vellinton
a valking about amidst the red-hot cannon balls, him not caring von straw.”
[Pg 131]
RULE II.
Two or more singular nouns, joined together by a copulative conjunction, expressed or understood, are
equivalent to a plural noun, and therefore require verbs, nouns, and pronouns, agreeing with them in the plural
number: as, “Veal, wine, and vinegar” (take care how you pronounce these words) “are very good victuals I
vow.” “Burke and Hare were nice men.” “A hat without a crown, a tattered coat, threadbare and out at elbows, a [Pg 132]
pair of breeches which looked like a piece of dirty patchwork diversified by various holes, and of boots which a
Jew would hardly have raked from a kennel, at once proclaimed him a man who had seen better days.”
This rule is not always adhered to in discourse quite so closely as a fastidious ear would require it to be: as, “And
so, you know, Mary, and I, and Jane was a dusting the chairs, and in comes Missus.”
RULE III.
When the conjunction disjunctive comes between two nouns, the verb, noun, or pronoun, is of the singular
number, because it refers to each of such nouns taken separately: as, “A cold in the head, or a sore eye is a great
disadvantage to a lover.”
If singular pronouns, or a noun and pronoun of different persons, be disjunctively connected, the verb must agree
with the person which stands nearest to it: as “I or thou art.” “Thou or I am.” “I, thou, or he is,” &c. But as this
way of writing or speaking is very inelegant, and as saying, “Either I am, or thou art,” and so on, will always
render having recourse to it unnecessary, the rule just laid down is almost useless, except inasmuch as it suggests [Pg 133]
a moral maxim, namely, “Always be on good terms with your next door neighbour.”
It also forcibly reminds us of some beautiful lines by Moore, in which the heart, like a tendril, is said to twine
round the “nearest and loveliest thing.” Now the person which is placed nearest the verb is the object of choice;
ergo, the most agreeable person—ergo, the loveliest person or thing.
Should a conjunction disjunctive occur between a singular noun or pronoun, and a plural one, the verb agrees
with the plural noun or pronoun: as, “Neither a king nor his courtiers are averse to butter:” (particularly when
thickly spread). “Darius or the Persians were hostile to Greece.”
RULE IV.
A noun of multitude, that is, one which signifies many, can have a verb or pronoun to agree with it either in the
singular or plural number; according to the import of such noun, as conveying unity or plurality of idea: as, “The
Parliament is—” we do not choose to say what. “The nation is humbugged.” “The ministry are exceedingly well [Pg 134]
pensioned.” “The multitude have to pay many taxes.” “The Councilare at a loss to know what to do.” “The
people is a many-headed monster.”
We do not mean to call the people names. We only quote what all parties say of it when out of office. When they
are in, it is—why, we may exhaust the alphabet about it, as Sterne tried to do about Love; but he couldn’t get
farther than R.; and therefore, if we break down, it is no matter. So we will e’en try a leap; and as the maxim
“audi alteram partem” is a favourite one with all rightly constituted minds, our own inclusive, we will see what can
be said on both sides. The people, then, is termed,
By the Ins. By the Outs.
An apprehensive people, An addle-headed people.
A blessed people, A burdened people.
A chivalrous people, A currish people.
A delightful people, A disgusting people.
An enlightened people, An embruted people.
A free people, A fettered people.
A glorious people, A grovelling people.
A high-minded people, A hoggish people.
RULE V.
Pronouns agree with their antecedents, and with the nouns to which they belong, in gender and number: as, “This
is the blow which killed Ned.” “England was once governed by a celebrated King, who was called Rufus the
Red, but whose name was by no means so illustrious as that of Alfred.” “His Grace and the Baronet had put on
their boots.” “The Countess appeared, and she smiled, but the smile belied her feelings.”
The relative being of the same person with the antecedent, the verb always agrees with it: as, “Thouwho learnest [Pg 136]
Syntax.” “I who enlighten thy mind.”
The relative what (incorrectly pronounced) is sometimes used in a manner which is very exceptionable: as, “The
gentleman wot keeps the wine-vaults.” “None but lovers can feel for them wot loves.” We mention this error
once more, in order to insure its abandonment.
The objective case of the personal pronouns is by some, for want of better information, employed in the place of
these and those: as, “Let them things alone.” “Now then, Jemes, make haste withthem chops.” “Give them
tables a wipe.” “Oh! Julier, turn them heyes away.” “What’s the use o’ mancipatin’ them niggers?” “Don’t you
wish you was one of them lobsters?” “I think them shawls so pretty!” “Look at them sleeves.” The adverb
there, is sometimes, with additional impropriety, joined to the pronoun them: as, “Look after them there sheep.”
The objective case of a pronoun in the first person is put after the interjections Oh! and Ah! as, “Oh! dear me,”
&c. The second person, however, requires a nominative case: as, “Oh! you good-for-nothing man!” “Ah! thou
gay Lothario!”
[Pg 137]
RULE VI.
When there is no nominative case between the relative and the verb, the relative itself is the nominative to the
verb: as, “The master who flogged us.” “The rods which were used.”
But when the nominative comes between the relative and the verb, the relative exchanges, as it were, the [Pg 138]
character of sire for that of son, and becomes the governed instead of the governor; depending for its case on
some word in its own member of the sentence: as, “He who is now at the head of affairs, whom the Queen
delighteth to honour, whose Pavilion (if the Court had been there) might have been at Brighton, and towhom is
intrusted the helm of state—is a Lamb.”
Well, it is to be hoped that he will get on in his boat a little better than a bear; though why that animal is
considered so peculiarly at sea when on the water, we cannot tell. Man is the only sailor except the nautilus that
we know of. Even the steer is no steersman. The bear, however, is an ill-conditioned, awkward creature, and
very likely to upset the boat; while the more gentle lamb, whatever may be the perils of his situation, leaves the
rudder alone, remains quietly in his place, and goes with the stream.
RULE VII.
The relative and the verb, when the former is preceded by two nominatives of different persons, may agree in
person with either, according to the sense: as, “I am the young gentleman who do the lovers at the Wells;” or,
“who does.”
[Pg 139]
Let this maxim be borne constantly in mind. “A murderer of good characters should always be made an example
of.”
RULE VIII.
Every adjective, and every adjective pronoun, relates to a substantive, expressed or implied: as, “Dando was an [Pg 140]
unprincipled, as well as a voracious man.” “Few quarrel with their bread and butter;” that is, “few persons.” “This
is the wonderful eagle of the sun.” That is, “This eagle,” &c.
Adjective pronouns agree in number with their substantives: “This muff, these muffs; that booby, these boobies;
another numscull, other numsculls.”
Some people say “Those kind of things,” or, “This four-and-twenty year,” neither of which expressions they have
any business to use.
A good deal of speculation has been expended on the word means in connection with an adjective pronoun.
Some will have it that we should say, “By this mean;” “By that mean;” “By these means;” “By those means:”
others, that we should say, “By this means,” and so on. The practical rule to be observed is, to treat the
substantive, means, as a singular noun when it refers to what is singular, and when it relates to that which is plural,
as a plural one. The word mean is seldom used in the same sense with means. We have been induced to advert
to this question, by the desire of giving the reader a caution respecting the use of this same word, means. It is not
uncommon to hear it said in the streets and elsewhere, “Well, and then, you know, Jem was took afore the beak,
by means of which he had three months.” “Sall was quite intosticated, by means of which (or vich) she wor fined [Pg 141]
five bob,” &c. We will not shock the refined grammarian by the multiplication of examples of this kind; suffice it to
say, that the phrase “by means of which” is substituted for “in consequence of which,” or, “on which account,” by
the lower or illiterate classes.
Adjectives are sometimes improperly used as adverbs: as, “He behaved verybad.” “He insulted me most gross.”
“He eat and drank uncommon.” “He wur beat very severe.” “It hailed tremendous,” or, more commonly,
“tremenjus.”
RULE IX.
The article a or an agrees with nouns in the singular number only: as, “A fool, an ass, a simpleton, a ninny, a lout
—I would not give a farthing for a thousand such.”
The definite article the may agree with nouns in the singular and plural number: as, “The toast, the ladies, the
ducks.”
The articles are often properly omitted; when used, they serve to determine or limit the thing spoken of: as,
“Variety is charming.” “Familiarity doth breed contempt.” “A stitch in time saves nine.” “The heart that has truly
loved never forgets.”
The article a or an is sometimes (we grieve to say it) applied to nouns in the plural number: as, “A wine-vaults.” [Pg 142]
“An oyster-rooms.” But this misapplication of the article is positively shocking.
RULE X.
One substantive, in the possessive or genitive case, is governed by another, of a different meaning: as, “A fiddle-
stick’s end.” “Monkey’s allowance.” “Virtue’s reward.”
Pronouns, as well as nouns, are thus governed by substantives: as, “The woes of a kitten (like those of a Poet) are [Pg 143]
expressed by its mews.”
RULE XI.
Active verbs govern the objective case: as, “I kissed her.” “She scratched me.” “Virtue rewards her followers.”
For which reason she is like a cook.
Verbs neuter do not govern an objective case. Observe, therefore, that such phrases: as, “She cried a good
one,” “He came the old soldier over me,” and so forth, are highly improper in a grammatical point of view, to
say nothing of other objections to them.
These verbs, however, are capable of governing words of a meaning similar to their own: as, in the affecting
ballad of Giles Scroggins—
“I wont, she cried, and screamed a scream.”
The verb To Be has the same case after it as that which goes before it: as, “It was I,” not “It was me.” “The
Grubbs were they who eat so much trifle at our last party;” not “The Grubbses were them.”
RULE XII.
One verb governs another that depends upon it, in the infinitive mood: as, “Cease to smoke pipes.” “Begin to [Pg 144]
wear collars.” “I advise you to shave.” “I recommend you to go to church.” “I resolved to visit the United
States.
“And there I learned to wheel about
And jump Jim Crow.”
In general, the preposition to is used before the latter of two verbs; but sometimes it is more properly omitted: as,
“I saw you take it, young fellow; come along with me.” “Let me get hold of you, that’s all!” “Did I hear you
speak?” “I’ll let you know!” “You dare not hit me.” “Bid me discourse.” “You need not sing.”
The preposition for is sometimes unnecessarily intruded into a sentence, in addition to the preposition to, before
an infinitive mood: as, “How came you for to think, for to go, for to do such a thing?” “Do you want me for to
punch your head?”
Adjectives, substantives, and participles, often govern the infinitive mood: as, “Miss Hopkins, I shall be happy to
dance the next set with you.” “Oh! Sir, it is impossible to refuse you.” “Have you an inclination to waltz?” “I shall
be delighted in endeavouring to do so.”
[Pg 145]
The infinitive mood is frequently made absolute, that is, independent of the rest of the sentence: as, “To say the
truth, I was rather the worse for liquor.” “Not to mince matters, Miss, I love you.” “To begin at the right end.”
“To cut a long tale short,” &c.
[Pg 146]
RULE XIII.
The relation which words and phrases bear to each other in point of time, should always be duly marked: instead
of saying, “Last night I intended to have made strong love to her,” we should say, “Last night I intended to make
strong love to her;” because, although the intention of making strong love may have been abandoned (on
reflection) this morning, and is now, therefore, a thing which is past, yet it is undoubtedly, when last night and the
thoughts connected with it are brought back, again present to the mind.
RULE XIV.
Participles have the same power of government with that of the verbs from which they are derived: as, “Oh, what
an exquisite singer Rubini is! I am so fond ofhearing him.” “Look at that horrid man; I declare he is quizzing
us!” “No, he is only taking snuff.” “See, how that thing opposite keeps making eyes.” “Yes, she is ogling
Lumley; I should so like to pinch her!” “How fond they all are ofwearing mustaches! Don’t you like it?” “Oh,
yes! there is no resisting them.” “Heigho! I am dying to have an ice—”
——Young man for a husband, Miss? [Pg 147]
For shame, Sir! don’t be rude!
Participles are sometimes used as substantives: as, “The French mouth is adapted tothe making of grimaces.”
“The cobbler is like the parson; he lives by the mending of soles.” “The tailor reaps a good harvest from the
sewing of cloth.” “Did you ever see a shooting of the moon?”
Is this what the witches mean when they sing, in the acting play of Macbeth,
“We fly by night?”
If they “shoot the moon,” they are shooting stars.
There is a mode of using the indefinite article a before a participle, for which there is no occasion, as it does not
convert the participle into a substantive, and makes no alteration in the sense of what is said; in this case the
article, therefore, is like a wart, a wen, or a knob at the end of the nose, neither useful nor ornamental: as, “Going
out a shooting.” “Are you a coming to-morrow?” “I was a thinking about what Jem said.” “Here you are, a going
of it, as usual!”
A liberty not unfrequently taken with the English Language, is the substitution of the perfect participle for the
imperfect tense, and of the imperfect tense for the perfect participle: as, “He run like mad, with the great dog after [Pg 148]
him.” “Maria come and told us all about it.” “When I had wrote the Valentine, I sealed it with my thimble.” “He
has rose to (be) a common-councilman.” “I was chose Lord Mayor.” “I’ve eat (or a eat) lots of venison in my
time.” “I should have spoke if you hadn’t put in your oar.” “You were mistook.” “He sent her an affecting copy
of verses, which was wrote with a Perryian pen.”
RULE XV.
Adverbs are generally placed in a sentence before adjectives, after verbs active or neuter, and frequently between
the auxiliary and the verb: as, “He came, Sir, and he was most exceedingly drunk; he could hardly stand upon
his legs; he made a very lame discourse; he spoke incoherently and ridiculously; and was impatiently heard
by the whole assembly.” “He is fashionably dressed.” “She is conspicuously ugly.” “The eye of jealousy is
proverbially sharp, and yet it is indisputably green.” “Britons may often be sold, but they will never be
slaves.” “The French Marquis was avery charming man; he danced exquisitely and nimbly, and was greatly
admired by all the ladies.”
[Pg 149]
Several adverbs have been coined in America of late; and some of them are very remarkable for a “particular”
elegance: as, “I reckon you’re catawampously chawed up.”
In the example just given there is to be found, besides the new adverb, a word which, if not also new to the [Pg 150]
English student, is rendered so both by its orthography and pronunciation; namely, chawed. This term is no other
than “chewed,” modified (as words, like living things, would seem to be), by transportation to a foreign country.
“Chawed up” is a very strong expression, and is employed to signify the most complete state of discomfiture and
defeat, when a man is as much crushed, mashed, and comminuted, morally speaking, as if he had literally and
corporeally undergone the process of mastication. “Catawampously” is a concentration of “hopelessly,”
“tremendously,” “thoroughly,” and “irrevocably;” so that “catawampously chawed up,” means, brought as nearly
to a state of utter annihilation as anything consistently with the laws of nature can possibly be. For the
metaphorical use of the word “chawed,” made by the Americans, three several reasons have been given: 1.
Familiarity with the manner in which the alligator disposes of his victims. 2. The cannibalism of the Aborigines. 3.
The delicate practice of chewing tobacco. Each of these is supported by numerous arguments, on the
consideration of which it would be quite out of the question to enter in this place.
[Pg 151]
RULE XVI.
Two English negatives (like French lovers) destroy one another,—and become equivalent to an affirmative: as,
“The question before the House was not an unimportant one;” that is, “it was an important one.” “His Lordship
was free to confess that he did not undertake to say that he would not on some future occasion give a
satisfactory answer to the right honourable gentleman.”
Thus, at one and the same time, we teach our readers Syntax and secretiveness.
It is probable that small boys are often unacquainted with this rule; for many of them, while undergoing personal
chastisement, exclaim, for the purpose, as it would appear, of causing its duration to be shortened—“Oh pray,
Sir, oh pray, Sir, oh pray, Sir! I won’t do so no more!”
RULE XVII.
Prepositions govern the objective case: as, “What did the butcher sayof her?” “He said that she would never do
for him; that she was too thin for a wife, and he was not fond of a spare rib.”
The delicate ear is much offended by any deviation from this rule: as, in a shocking and vulgar song which it was
once our misfortune to hear:—
“There I found the faithless she [Pg 152]
Frying sausages for he.”
As also in the conversation of rustics: as, “It’s all one to we.” “Come out of they ’taters!” “He went to the
Parson’s with I.” “From he to they an’t more nor dree mile.”
We had occasion, in the Etymology, to remark on a certain misuse of the preposition, of. This, perhaps, is best
explained by stating that of, in the instances cited, is made to usurp the government of cases which are already
under a rightful jurisdiction: as, “What are you got a eating of?” “He had been a beating of his wife.”
RULE XVIII.
Conjunctions connect similar moods and tenses of verbs, and cases of nouns and pronouns: as, “A coat of arms
suspended on a wall is like an executed traitor; it is hanged, drawn, and quartered.” “If you continue thus to
drink brandy and water and to smoke cigars, you will be like Boreas the North wind, who takes ‘cold without’
wherever he goes, and always ‘blows a cloud’ when it comes in his way.” “Do you think there is any thing
between him and her?” “Yes; he and she are engaged ones.”
[Pg 153]
Note.—To ask whether there is any thing between two persons of opposite sexes, is one way of inquiring
whether they are in love with each other. It is not, however, in our opinion, a very happy phrase, inasmuch as
whatever intervenes between a couple of fond hearts, must tend to prevent them from coming together. Pyramus
and Thisbe, as Ovid informs us, had more between them than they liked—a conjunction disjunctive in the shape [Pg 154]
of a wall. And by the bye, now that we are speaking of Pyramus and Thisbe, we may as well expend a word or
two on a matter which, though of much interest, has never yet been noticed by the learned. Pyramus and Thisbe,
it is well known, used to kiss each other through a hole in the wall which separated them. Now we have always
been puzzled to imagine how they managed it. We are told by the Poet that they lived—
“Ubi dicitur altam
Coctilibus muris cinxisse Semiramis urbem”—
that is to say, where Semiramis is said to have surrounded a lofty city—not with cock-tail mice, as Mr. Canning
facetiously translated “Coctilibus muris,”—but with brick walls. The wall which separated two adjoining houses
must have been at least a brick thick; and although it be possible, “with Love’s light wings” to “o’erperch” an
exceedingly high wall, it occurs to us that it would be no easy thing for Love’s long lips, let them be as long as you
will, to reach through a moderately thick one. We do not know exactly what was the breadth of an Assyrian
brick, but supposing it to have been three inches, an inch and a half of lip would have been required on the part of [Pg 155]
either lover for a kiss which could barely be sworn by;—a sort of presentation salute;—but for one worth giving
or taking, we must allow an additional half inch of mouth to the gentleman. After all, their noses must have been so
much in the way, that to make the operation at all feasible, either these features must have been particularly flat, or
the aperture a very large one; whereas it is well known to have been merely a chink. Common observation on the
part of their respective parents would have detected such a gap, and common prudence would have stopped it
up. How, then, are we to reconcile Ovid’s story with truth? Now, remember, reader, what has been said about
noses and lips. Our deliberate opinion is that Pyramus and Thisbe werea couple of negroes. We shall be told
that it is one utterly irreconcileable with the description of them given in the Metamorphoses. No matter—
“The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,
Are of imagination all compact.”
And considering that the lover—
“Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt,”
we do not see why Abyssinian charms should not be transformed by a poet into those of Assyria. And so, having
proved (to our own satisfaction at least) that the beautiful Thisbe was a Hottentot Venus, we will resume the [Pg 156]
consideration of conjunctions.
RULE XIX.
Some conjunctions govern the indicative; some the subjunctive mood. In general, it is right to use the subjunctive,
when contingency or doubt is implied: as, “If I were to say that the moon is made of green cheese.” “If I were a
wiseacre.” “If I were a Wiltshire-man.” “A lady, unless she be toasted, is never drunk.”
And when she is toasted, those who are drunk are generally the gentlemen.
“The Ladies!”
Those conjunctions which have a positive and absolute signification, require the indicative mood: as, “He who [Pg 157]
fasts may be compared to a horse: for as the animal eats not a bit, so neither does the man partake of a morsel.”
“The rustic is deluded by false hopes, for his daily food is gammon.”
Every philosopher has his weak points, and in the Sylva Sylvarum may be found some gammon of Bacon.
RULE XX.
When a comparison is made between two or more things, the latter noun or pronoun is not governed by the
conjunction than or as, but agrees with the verb, or is governed by the verb or preposition, expressed or
understood: as, “The French are a lighter people than we,” (that is “than we are,”) “and yet we are not so dark as
they,” that is, “as they are.” “I should think that they admire me more than them,” that is, “than they admire them.”
“It is a shame, Martha! you were thinking more of that young officer than me,” that is, “of me.”
Sufficient attention is not always paid, in discourse, to this rule. Thus, a schoolboy may be often heard to exclaim, [Pg 158]
“What did you hit me for, you great fool? you’re bigger than me. Hit some one of your own size!” “Not fling
farther than him? just can’t I, that’s all!” “You and I have got more marbles than them.”
[Pg 159]
RULE XXI.
An ellipsis, or omission of certain words, is frequently allowed, for the sake of avoiding disagreeable repetitions,
and of expressing our ideas in few words. Instead of saying “She was a little woman, she was a round woman,
and she was an old woman,” we say, making use of the figure Ellipsis, “She was a little, round, and old woman.”
When, however, the omission of words is productive of obscurity, weakens the sentence, or involves a violation
of some grammatical principle, the ellipsis must not be used. It is improper to say “Puddings fill who fill them;” we
should supply the word those. “A beautiful leg of mutton and turnips” is not good language: those who would
deserve what they are talking about ought to say, “A beautiful leg of mutton and fine turnips.”
In common discourse, in which the meaning can be eked out by gestures, signs, and inarticulate sounds variously
modified, the ellipsis is much more liberally and more extensively employed than in written composition. “May I
have the pleasure of—hum? ha?” may constitute an invitation to take wine. “I shall be quite—a—a—” may serve
as an answer in the affirmative. “So then, you see he was—eh!—you see——,” is perhaps an intimation that a [Pg 160]
man has been hanged. “Well, of all the—I never!” is often tantamount to three times as many words expressive of
surprise, approbation, or disapprobation, according to the tone in which it is uttered. “Will you?—ah!—will you?
—ah!—ah!—ah!” will do either for “Will you be so impertinent, you scoundrel? will you dare to do so another
time?” or, “Will you, dearest, loveliest, most adorable of your sex, will you consent to make me happy; will you
be mine? speak! answer, I entreat you! One word from those sweet lips will make me the most fortunate man in
existence!”
There is, however, a kind of ellipsis which those who indulge in that style of epistolary writing, wherein sentiments
of a tender nature are conveyed, will do well to avoid with the greatest care. The ellipsis alluded to, is that of the
first person singular of the personal pronoun, as instanced in the following model of a billet-doux:—
Camberwell,
April 1, 1840.
MY DEAREST FANNY,
Have not enjoyed the balm of sleep all the livelong night. Encountered, last night, at the ball, the [Pg 161]
beau ideal of my heart. Never knew what love was till then. Derided the sentiment often; jested
at scars, because had never felt a wound. Feel at last the power of beauty—Write with a
tremulous hand; waver between hope and fear. Hope to be thought not altogether unworthy of
regard: fear to be rejected as having no pretensions to the affections of such unparalleled
loveliness. Know not in what terms to declare my feelings. Adore you, worship you, dote on
you, am wrapt up in you! think but on you, live but for you, would willingly die for you!—in
short, love you! and imploring you to have some compassion on one who is distracted for your
sake
Remain
Devotedly yours
T. Tout.
RULE XXII.
A regular and dependent construction should be carefully preserved throughout the whole of a sentence, and all
its parts should correspond to each other. There is, therefore, an inaccuracy in the following sentence; “Greenacre
was more admired, but not so much lamented, as Burke.” It should be, “Greenacre was more admired than [Pg 162]
Burke, but not so much lamented.”
Of these two worthies there will be a notice of the following kind in a biographical dictionary, to be published a
thousand years hence in America.
Greenacre.—A celebrated critic who so cut up a blue-stocking lady of the name of Brown, that he did not leave
her a leg to stand upon.
Burke.—A famous orator, whose power of stopping people’s mouths was said to be prodigious. It is farther
reported of him that he was only once hung up, and that on the occasion of the last speech he ever made.
Perhaps it may be said that the rule last stated comprehends all preceding rules, and requires exemplification
accordingly. We therefore call the attention of the reader to the following paragraph, requesting him to consider
what, and how many, violations of the maxims of Syntax it contains.
“We teaches, that is, my son and me teaches, they boys English Grammar. Tom or Dick have
learned something every day but Harry what is idler, whom I am sure will never come to no
good, for he is always a miching and doing those kind of things (he was catch but yesterday in a
skittle grounds) he only makes his book all dog’s ears. I beat he, too, pretty smartish, as I ought, [Pg 163]
you will say, for to have did. I was going to have sent him away last week but he somehow got
over me as he do always. I have had so much trouble with he, that between you and I, if I was
not paid for it, I wouldn’t have no more to do with such a boy. There never wasn’t a monkey
more mischievious than him; and a donkey isn’t more stupider and not half so obstinate as that
youngster.”
The Syntax of the Interjection has been sufficiently stated under Rule V. Interjections afford more matter for
consideration in a Treatise on Elocution than they do in a work on Grammar; but there is one observation which
we are desirous of making respecting them, and which will not, it is hoped, be thought altogether foreign to our
present subject. Almost every interjection has a great variety of meanings, adapted to particular occasions and
circumstances, and indicated chiefly by the tone of the voice. Of this proposition we shall now give a few
illustrations, which we would endeavour to render still clearer by the addition of musical notes, but that these
would hardly express, with adequate exactness, the modulations of sound to which we allude; and besides, we
hope to be sufficiently understood without such help. This part of the Grammar should be read aloud by the [Pg 164]
student; or, which is better still, the interjection, where it is possible, should be repeated with the proper intonation
by a class; the sentence which gives occasion to it being read by the preceptor. We will select the interjection Oh!
as the source from which our examples are to be drawn.
“I’ll give it you, you idle dog: I will!”
“Oh, pray, Sir! Oh, pray, Sir! Oh! Oh! Oh!”
“I shall ever have the highest esteem for you, Sir; but as to love, that is out of the question.”
“Oh, Matilda!”
“I say, Jim, look at that chaffinch: there’s a shy!”
“Oh, Crikey!”
“Miss Tims, do you admire Lord Byron?”
“Oh, yes!”
“What do you think of Rubini’s singing?”
“Oh!”
“So then, you see, we popped round the corner, and caught them just in the nick of time.”
“Oh!”
“Sir, your behaviour has done you great credit.”
“Oh!”
“Oats are looking up.”
“Oh!”
“Honourable Members might say what they pleased; but he was convinced, for his part, that the New Poor Law [Pg 165]
had given great general satisfaction.”
“Oh! oh!”
There being now no reason (or rule) to detain us in the Syntax, we shall forthwith advance into Prosody, where
we shall have something to say, not only about rules, but also of measures.
[Pg 166]
PART IV.
PROSODY.
Prosody consists of two parts; wherefore, although it may be a topic, a head, or subject for discussion, it can
never be a point; for a point is that which hath no parts. Besides, there are a great many lines to be considered in
the second part of Prosody, which treats of Versification. The first division teaches the true Pronunciation of
Words, including Accent, Quantity, Emphasis, Pause, and Tone.
Lord Chesterfield’s book about manners, which is intended to teach us the proper tone to be adopted in Society,
may be termed an Ethical Prosody.
Lord Chesterfield may have been a polished gentleman, but Dr. Johnson was of the two the more shining
character.
[Pg 167]
CHAPTER I.
OF PRONUNCIATION.
SECTION I.
OF ACCENT.
Though penetrated ourselves by the desire of imparting instruction, we are far from wishing to bore our readers;
and therefore we shall endeavour to repeat nothing here that we have said before.
Accent is the marking with a peculiar stress of the voice a particular letter or syllable in a word, in such a manner
as to render it more distinct or audible than the rest. Thus, in the word théatre, the stress of the voice should be
on the letter e and first syllable the; and in cóntrary, on the first syllable con. How shocking it is to hear people
say con-tráry, the-átre! The friends of education will be reminded with regret, that an error in the pronunciation
of the first of these words is very early impressed on the human mind.
“Mary, Mary, [Pg 168]
Quite contráry,
How does your garden grow?”
How many evils, alas! arise from juvenile associations!
Words of two syllables never have more than one of them accented, except for the sake of peculiar emphasis.
Gentlemen, however, whose profession it is to drive certain public vehicles called cabs, are much accustomed to
disregard this rule, and to say, “pó-líte” (or “púr-líte”), “gén-téel,” “cón-cérn,” “pó-líce,” and so on: nay, they go
so far as to convert a word of one syllable into two, for the sake of indulging in this style of pronunciation; and
thus the word “queer” is pronounced by them as “ké-véer.”
The word “á-mén,” when standing alone, should be pronounced with two accents.
The accents in which it usually is pronounced are very inelegant. Clerks, now-a-days, alas! are no scholars.
Dissyllables, formed by adding a termination, usually have the former syllable accented: as, “Fóolish, blóckhead,”
&c.
The accent in dissyllables, formed by prefixing a syllable to the radical word, is commonly on the latter syllable: [Pg 169]
as, “I protést, I decláre, I entréat, I adóre, I expíre.”
Protestations, declarations, entreaties, and adorations, proclaim a swain to be simply tender; but expiration (for
love) proves him to be decidedly soft.
A man who turns lover becomes a protest-ant; and his conduct at the same time generally undergoes a
reformation, especially if he has previously been a rake.
The zeal, however, of a reformed rake, like that of Jack in Dean Swift’s “Tale of a Tub,” is sometimes apt to [Pg 170]
outrun his discretion.
When the same word, being a dissyllable, is both a noun and a verb, the verb has mostly the accent on the latter,
and the noun on the former syllable: as,
“Molly, let Hymen’s gentle hand [Pg 171]
Cemént our hearts together,
With such a cément as shall stand
In spite of wind and weather.
“A respectable Man.”
Many words ending in ion, ous, ty, ia, io, and cal, have their accent on the last syllable but two: as, “Con-si-de- [Pg 178]
rá-ti-on, pro-dí-gi-ous, im-pe-ne-tra-bíl-i-ty, en-cy-clo-pæ´-di-a, brag-ga-dó-ci-o, an-ti-mo-nárch-i-cal,” all of
which words we have divided into syllables, by way of a hint that they are to be pronounced (comically speaking)
after the manner of Dominie Sampson.
Having, in compliance with grammatical usage, laid down certain rules with regard to accent, we have to inform
the reader that there are so many exceptions to almost all of them, that perhaps there is scarcely one which it is
worth while to attend to. We hope we have in some measure amused him; but as to instruction, we fear that, in
this part of our subject, we have given him very little of that. Those who would acquire a correct accent had
better attend particularly to the mode of speaking adopted in good society; avoid debating clubs; and go to
church. For farther satisfaction and information we refer them, and we beg to say that we are not joking—to
Walker.
SECTION II.
OF QUANTITY.
The quantity of a syllable means the time taken up in pronouncing it. As there is in Arithmetic a long division and a [Pg 179]
short division, so in Prosody is Quantity considered as long or short.
A syllable is said to be long, when the accent is on the vowel, causing it to be slowly joined in pronunciation to the
next letter: as, “Flēa, smāll, crēature.”
A syllable is called short, when the accent lies on the consonant, so that the vowel is quickly joined to the
succeeding letter: as “Crăck, lĭttle, dĕvil.”
The pronunciation of a long syllable commonly occupies double the time of a short one: thus, “Pāte,” and
“Brōke,” must be pronounced as slowly again as “Păt,” and “Knŏck.”
We have remarked a curious tendency in the more youthful students of Grammar to regard the quantity of words
(in their lessons) more as being “small” or “great” than as coming under the head of “long” or “short.” Their
predilection for small quantities of words is very striking and peculiar; food for the mind they seem to look upon
as physic; and all physic, in their estimation, is most agreeably taken in infinitesimal doses. The Homœopathic
system of acquiring knowledge is more to their taste than even the Hamiltonian.
It is quite impossible to give any rules as to quantity worth reading. The Romans may have submitted to them, but [Pg 180]
that is no reason why we should. We will pronounce our words as we please: and if foreigners want to know
why, we will tell them that, when there is no Act of Parliament to the contrary, an Englishman always does as he
likes with his own.
[Pg 181]
SECTION III.
OF EMPHASIS.
Emphasis is the distinguishing of some word or words in a sentence, on which we wish to lay particular stress, by
a stronger and fuller sound, and sometimes by a particular tone of the voice.
A few illustrations of the importance of emphasis will be, perhaps, both agreeable and useful.
When a young lady says to a young gentleman, “You are a nice fellow; you are!”—she means one thing.
When a young gentleman, addressing one of his own sex, remarks, “You’re a nice fellow; you are;”—he means
another thing.
“Your friend is a gentleman,” pronounced without any particular emphasis, is the simple assertion of a fact.
“Your friend is a gentleman,” with the emphasis on the words “friend” and “gentleman,” conveys an insinuation
besides.
So simple a question as “Do you like pine-apple rum?” is susceptible of as many meanings as there are words in
it; according to the position of the emphasis.
“Do you like pine-apple rum?” is as much as to say, “Do you, though, really like pine-apple rum?” [Pg 182]
“Do you like pine-apple rum?” is tantamount to, “Can it be that a young gentleman (or lady) like you, can like
pine-apple rum?”
“Do you like pine-apple rum?” means, “Is it possible that instead of disliking, you are fond of pine-apple rum?”
“Do you like pine-apple rum?” is an enquiry as to whether you like that kind of rum in particular.
And lastly, “Do you like pine-apple rum?” is equivalent to asking if you think that the flavour of the pine-apple
improves that especial form of alcohol.
A well-known instance of an emphasis improperly placed was furnished by a certain Parson, who read a passage
in the Old Testament in the following unlucky manner: “And he said unto his sons, Saddle me the ass; and they
saddled him.”
Young ladies are usually very emphatic in ordinary discourse. “What a little dear! Oh! how sweetly pretty! Well!
I never did, I declare! So nice, and so innocent, and so good-tempered, and so affectionate, and such a colour!
And oh! such lovely eyes! and such hair! He was a little duck! he was, he was, he was. Tzig a tzig, tzig, tzig, tzig,
tzig!” &c. &c. &c.
[Pg 183]
This emphatic way of speaking is indicative of two very amiable feelings implanted by nature in the female occiput,
and called by the Phrenologists Adhesiveness and Philoprogenitiveness. Those who attempt to imitate it will be
conscious, while forcing out their words, of a peculiar mental emotion, which we cannot explain otherwise than by [Pg 184]
saying, that it is analogous to that which attends the act of pressing or squeezing; as when, with the thumb of the
right hand, we knead one lump of putty to another, in the palm of the left. Perhaps we might also instance, sucking
an orange. In all these cases, the organ of Weight, according to Phrenology, is also active; and this, perhaps, is
one of the faculties which induce young ladies to lay a stress upon their words. Nevertheless, we fear that a
damsel would hardly be pleased by being told that her weight was considerable, though it would, at the same
time, grievously offend her to accuse her of lightness. Here we need scarcely observe, that we refer to lightness,
not of complexion, but of sentiment, which is always regarded as a dark shade in the character. This defect, we
think, we may safely assert, will never be observed in emphatic fair ones.
But we have not yet quite exhausted the subject of emphasis, considered in relation to young ladies. Their letters
are as emphatic as their language is, almost every third word being underlined. Such epistles, inasmuch as they are
addressed to the heart, ought not to be submitted to the ear; nevertheless we must say that we have occasionally [Pg 185]
been wicked and waggish enough to read them aloud—to ourselves alone, of course. The reader may, if he
choose, follow our example. We subjoin a specimen of female correspondence, endeared to us by many tender
recollections, and admirably adapted to our present purpose.
My dear Paul,
When we left Town on Wednesday last the weather was so very rainy that we were obliged to
have the coach windows up. I was terribly afraid that Matilda and I would have caught our
Death of cold; but thank Goodness no such untoward event took place. It was very
uncomfortable, and I so wished you had been there. When we got home who do you think
was there? Mr. Sims; and he said he thought that I was so much grown. Only think. And so
then you know we took some refreshment, for I assure you, what with the journey and
altogether we were very nearly famished; and we were all invited to go to the Chubbs’ that
Evening to a small Tea Party, for which I must own I thought Mr. Chubb a nice man. After
tea we had a carpet waltz, and although I was very tired I enjoyed it much. There were some
very pretty girls there, and one or two agreeable young men; but oh! &c.
The remainder of this letter being of a nature personally interesting to ourselves only, and likely, in the opinion of [Pg 186]
some readers, to render its insertion attributable to motives of vanity, we shall not be found fault with for objecting
to transcribe any more of it.
SECTION IV.
OF PAUSES.
A Pause, otherwise called a rest, is an absolute cessation of the voice, in speaking or reading, during a perceptible
interval, longer or shorter, of time.
Comic Pauses often occur in Oratory. “Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking,” is usually followed by a pause
of this sort. A young gentleman, his health having been drunk at a party, afforded, in endeavouring to return
thanks, a signal illustration of the Pause Comic. “Gentlemen,” he began, “the Ancient Romans,”—(A pause),—“I
say, Gentlemen, the Ancient Romans,”—(Hear!)—“The Ancient Romans, Gentlemen,”—(Bravo! hear! hear!)
—“Gentlemen—that is—the Ancient Romans”—“were very fine fellows, Jack, I dare say,” added a friend,
pulling the speaker down by the coat-tail.
That notable Ancient Roman, Brutus, is represented by Shakspere as making a glorious pause: as,
“Who’s here so vile that would not love his country? If any, speak, for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.” [Pg 187]
Here, of course, Brutus pauses, folds his arms, and looks magnanimous. We have heard, though, of an idle and [Pg 188]
impudent schoolboy, who, at a public recitation, when he had uttered the words “I pause for a reply,” gravely
took out his penknife and began paring his nails.
This was minding his paws with a vengeance.
A very long pause, particularly accompanied by a very serious look on the part of the speaker, as good as tells
the audience that something of great importance is coming. It is therefore necessary to have something of real
consequence to bring out. The following extract from a political harangue will show how essential it is to attend to
this point:—
“And, Gentlemen, when I consider, I say, when I consider the condition of the masses of this
country, I do think, and it is my opinion, that the Government has much to answer for. But not to
dwell on that point, what have been the deeds, what have been the proceedings, I may say, of
the Government itself? They have increased taxation, they have swelled the National Debt, they
have assailed the liberty of the subject, they have trampled the poor man in the dust; he asked
for liberty, and they made him a slave; he demanded the Charter, and they loaded him with [Pg 189]
fetters; he knelt for protection, and they gave him the Poor Law; he cried for bread, and they
gave him the bayonet. By what name, by what term, by what expression, are we to designate
such tyranny? (A long pause) ... Gentlemen!—it is unconstitutional!!!”
SECTION V.
OF TONES.
Tones consist of the modulations of the voice, or the notes or variations of sound which we use in speaking: thus
differing materially both from emphasis and pauses.
An interesting diversity of tones is exhibited by the popular voice at an election.
Also by dust-men, milk-women, and pot-boys; and by fruiterers, hearth-stone-venders, ballad-singers, Last-
Dying-Speech-hawkers, and old clothesmen itinerant.
We cannot exactly write tones (though it is easy enough to write notes), but we shall nevertheless endeavour to
give some idea of their utility.
A lover and a police-magistrate (unless the two characters should chance to be combined, which sometimes
happens, that is, when the latter is a lover of justice) would say, “Answer me,” in very different tones.
Observe, that two doves billing resemble two magistrates bowing;—because they are beak to beak. [Pg 190]
A lover again would utter the words “For ever and ever,” in a very different tone from that in which a Parish
Clerk would repeat them.
A young lady, on her first introduction to you, says, “Sir,” in a tone very unlike that in which she sometime
afterwards delivers herself of the same monosyllable when she is addressing you under the influence of jealousy.
As to the word “Sir,” the number of constructions which, according to the tone in which it is spoken, it may be
made to bear, are incalculable. We may adduce a few instances.
“Please, Sir, let me off my imposition.” [Pg 191]
“No, Sir!”
“Waiter! you, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir! yes, Sir!”
“Sir, I am greatly obliged to you.”
“Sir, you are quite welcome.”
“Your servant, Sir” (by a man who brings you a challenge).
“’Servant, Sir” (by a tailor bowing you to the door).
“Sir, you are a gentleman!”
“Sir, you are a scoundrel!”
We need not go on with examples ad infinitum. If after what we have said anybody does not understand the
nature of Tone, all we shall say of him is, that he is a Tony Lumpkin.
[Pg 192]
[Pg 192]
CHAPTER II.
OF VERSIFICATION.
Hurrah!
It is with peculiar pleasure that we approach this part of Prosody; and we have therefore prefaced it with an
exclamation indicative of delight. We belong to a class of persons to whom a celebrated phrenological
manipulator ascribes “some poetical feeling, if studied or called forth;” and, to borrow another expression from
the same quarter, we sometimes “versify a little;” that is to say, we diversify our literary occupations by an
occasional flirtation with the muses. Now it gives us great concern to observe that popular literature is becoming
very prosaic. Poetry and Boxing have gone out of favour together, and most probably,—though we have not
quite time enough just at present to show how,—from the same cause; namely, bad taste. We mention Boxing
along with Poetry, because it is remarkable that their decline should have been contemporaneous; and because [Pg 193]
we are of those who believe that there exists an essential similarity between all the branches of the Fine Arts; and
moreover, because—and we mention it as a fact no less singular in itself than creditable to the paper in question
—that a celebrated weekly periodical bestows especial patronage on both. With regard to Boxing, we are glad to
see that a few patriotic individuals have of late been endeavouring to revive the taste for it; and we have some
hope that their exertions, backed by certain cases of stabbing which every now and then occur, will eventually
prove successful. But no one can be found to labour in an equal degree for the advancement of poetry. Our innate
modesty is prompting us to say, that we fear we can do but little in the cause; but early impressions are known to
be very strong and lasting: and we have a notion that, in teaching youth to make verses, we shall in a great degree
contribute to the breeding up of a race of poets, and thereby secure, not only laurels, at least, for them, but also
gratitude, veneration, and all that kind of thing, for ourselves.
We have a great respect for the memory of our old schoolmaster; notwithstanding which, we think we can beat
him (which, we shall be told by the wags, would be tit for tat) at poet-making, though, indeed, he was a magician
in his way. “I’ll make thee a poet, my boy,” he used to say, “or the rod shall.” [Pg 194]
Every fool knows what Rhyme is; so we need not say anything about that.
OF POETICAL FEET.
Poetical feet! Why, Fanny Elsler’s feet and Taglioni’s feet are poetical feet—are they not? or else what is meant
by calling dancing the Poetry of Motion? And cannot each of those artistes boast of a toe which is the very
essence of all poetry—a ΤΟ` ΚΑΛΟ`Ν?
No. You may make verses on Taglioni’s feet, (though if she be a poetess, she can do that better than you,
standing, too, on one leg, like the man that Horace speaks of); but you cannot make them of her feet. Feet of
which verses are composed are made of syllables, not of bones, muscles, and ligaments.
Feet and pauses are the constituent parts of a verse.
We have heard one boy ask another, who was singing, “How much is that a yard?” still the yard is not a poetical
measure.
The feet which are used in poetry consist either of two or of three syllables. There are four kinds of feet of two,
and an equal number of three syllables. Four and four are eight: therefore Pegasus is an octoped; and if our [Pg 196]
readers do not understand this logic, we are sorry for it. But as touching the feet—we have
1. The Trochee, which has the first syllable accented, and the last unaccented: as, “Yānkĕe dōodlĕ.”
2. The Iambus, which has the first syllable unaccented, and the last accented: as, “Thĕ māid hĕrsēlf wĭth roūge,
ălās! bĕdaūbs.”
3. The Spondee, which has both the words or syllables accented: as, “Āll hāil, grēat kīng, Tōm Thūmb, āll haīl!”
4. The Pyrrhic, which has both the words or syllables unaccented: as, “Ŏn thĕ tree-top.”
5. The Dactyl, which has the first syllable accented and the two latter unaccented: as, “Jōnăthăn, Jēffĕrsŏn.”
6. The Amphibrach has the first and last syllables unaccented and the middle one accented: as, “Oĕ’rwħelmĭng,
trănspōrtĕd, ĕcstātĭc, dĕlīghtfŭl, ăccēptĕd, ăddrēssĕs.”
7. The Anapæst (or as we used to say, Nasty-beast) has the two first syllables unaccented and the last accented:
as, “Ŏvĕrgrōwn grĕnădiēr.”
8. The Tribrach has all its syllables unaccented: as, “Matrĭmŏny̆, exquĭsĭtenĕss.”
These feet are divided into principal feet, out of which pieces of poetry may be wholly or chiefly formed; and [Pg 197]
secondary feet, the use of which is to diversify the number and improve the verse.
We shall now proceed to explain the nature of the principal feet.
Iambic verses are of several kinds, each kind consisting of a certain number of feet or syllables.
1. The shortest form of the English Iambic consists of an Iambus, with an additional short syllable, thus coinciding
with the Amphibrach: as,
“Whăt, Sūsăn,
My beauty!
Refuse one
So true t’ ye?
This ditty
Of sadness
Begs pity
For madness.”
2. The second form of the English Iambic consists oftwo Iambuses, and sometimes takes an additional short
syllable: as,
“My̆ eȳe, whăt fūn,
With dog and gun,
And song and shout,
To roam about!
And shoot our snipes! [Pg 198]
And smoke our pipes!
Or eat at ease,
Beneath the trees,
Our bread and cheese!
To rouse the hare
From gloomy lair;
To scale the mountain
And ford the fountain,
While rustics wonder
To hear our thunder.”
Everybody has heard of the “Cockney School,” of course.
3. The third form consists of three Iambuses: as in the following morceau, the author of which is, we regret to
say, unknown to us; though we did once hear somebody say that it was a Mr. Anon.
“Jăck Sprāt ĕat āll thĕ fāt,
His wife eat all the lean,
And so between them both,
They lick’d the platter clean.”
In this verse an additional short syllable is also admitted: as,
“Ălēxĭs, yoūthfŭl ploūgh-bŏy,
A shepherdess adored,
Who loved fat Hodge, the cow-boy,
So t’other chap was floored.”
4. The fourth form is made up of four Iambuses: as, [Pg 199]
“Goŏd pēoplĕ āll, Ĭ prāy drăw nēar, fŏr yōu Ĭ neēds mŭst tēll,
That William Brown is dead and gone; the man you knew full well.
A broad brimm’d hat, black breeches, and an old Welch wig he wore:
And now and then a long brown coat all button’d up before.”
The present measure is as admirably adapted for the Platform as for the Conventicle.
“My name it is Bill Scroggins, and my fate it is to die,
For I was at the Sessions tried and cast for felony.
My friends, to these my dying words I pray attention lend,
The public-house has brought me unto this untimely end.”
Verses of this kind are now usually broken into two lines, with four feet in the first line, and three in the second:
as,
“Ĭ wīsh Ĭ wēre ă līttlĕ p̄ig
To wallow in the mire,
To eat, and drink, and sleep at ease
Is all that I desire.”
Trochaic verse is of several kinds. [Pg 202]
1. The shortest Trochaic verse in the English language consists of one Trochee and a long syllable: as,
“Bīlly̆ Blāck
Got the sack.”
Lindley Murray asserts that this measure is defective in dignity, and can seldom be used on serious occasions. Yet
it is Pope who thus sings:
“Dreadful screams,
Dismal gleams.
Fires that glow,
Shrieks of woe,” &c.
And for our own poor part, let us see what we can make out of a storm.
“See the clouds
Like to shrouds
All so dun,
Hide the Sun;
Daylight dies;
Winds arise;
Songsters quake,
’Midst the brake;
Shepherds beat
Swift retreat:
This form may take an additional long syllable, but this measure is very uncommon. Example:
“Chrōnŏnhōtŏnthōlŏgōs thĕ Grēat,
Godlike in a barrow kept his state.”
5. The fifth Trochaic species is likewise uncommon; and, as a Bowbellian would say, “uncommon” ugly. It
contains five trochees: as,
“Hēre lĭes Māry̆, wīfe ŏf Thōmăs Cārtĕr, [Pg 206]
Who to typhus fever proved a martyr.”
These are a specimen of the “uncouth rhymes” so touchingly alluded to by Gray.
6. The sixth form of the English Trochaic is a line of six trochees: as,
“Mōst bĕwītchĭng dāmsĕl, c̄harmĭng Ārăbēllă,
Prithee, cast an eye of pity on a fellow.”
The Dactylic measure is extremely uncommon. The following may be considered an example of one species of it:
“Cēliă thĕ crūĕl, rĕsōlv’d nŏt tŏ mārry̆ sŏon,
Boasts of a heart like a fortified garrison,
Bulwarks and battlements keeping the beaux all off,
Shot from within knocking lovers like foes all off.”
Anapæstic verses are of various kinds.
1. The shortest anapæstic verse is a single anapæst: as,
“Ĭn thĕ glāss
There’s an ass.”
This measure, after all, is ambiguous; for if the stress of the voice be laid on the first and third syllables, it becomes
trochaic. Perhaps, therefore, it is best to consider the first form of our Anapæstic verse, as made up of two [Pg 207]
anapæsts: as,
“Sĕt ă schōolbŏy ăt wōrk
With a knife and a fork.”
And here, if you like, you may have another short syllable: as,
“Ănd hŏw sōon thĕ yoŭng glūttŏn
Will astonish your mutton!”
2. The second species consists of three anapæsts: as,
“Ămărȳllĭs wăs slēndĕr ănd tāll,
Colin Clodpole was dumpy and fat;
And tho’ she did’n’t like him at all,
Yet he doted on her for all that.”
This metre is sometimes donominated sing-song.
3. The third kind of English Anapæstics may be very well exemplified by an Irish song:
“Hăve yŏu ē’er hăd thĕ lūck tŏ sĕe Dōnny̆brŏok Fāir?”
It consists, as will have been observed, of four anapæsts. Sometimes it admits of a short syllable at the end of the
verse: as,
“Ĭn thĕ dēad ŏf thĕ nīght, whĕn wĭth dīre cătĕrwāulĭng
Of grimalkins in chorus the house-tops resound;
All insensibly drunk, and unconsciously sprawling
In the kennel, how pleasant it is to be found!”
The various specimens of versification of which examples have been given, may be improved and varied by the [Pg 208]
admission of secondary feet into their composition; but as we are not writing an Art of Poetry, we cannot afford
to show how: particularly as the only way, after all, of acquiring a real knowledge of the structure of English verse,
is by extensive reading. Besides, there yet remain a few Directions for Poetical Beginners, which we feel ourselves
called upon to give, and for which, if we do not take care, we shall not have room.
The commencement of a poet’s career is usually the writing of nonsense verses. The nonsense of these
compositions is very often unintentional; but sometimes words are put together avowedly without regard to sense,
and with no other view than that of acquiring a familiarity with metrical arrangement: as,
“Approach, disdain, involuntary, tell.”
But this is dry work. It may be necessary to compose in this way just at first, but in our opinion, there is a good
and a bad taste to be displayed even in writing nonsense verses; that is, verses which really deserve that name.
We recommend the young poet to make it his aim to render his nonsense as perfect as possible. He will find many [Pg 209]
bright examples to follow in the world of literature: but perhaps, for the present, he will put up with our own.
“Conclusive tenderness; fraternal grog,
Tidy conjunction; adamantine bog,
Impetuous, arrant toadstool; Thundering quince,
Repentant dog-star, inessential Prince
Expound. Pre-Adamite eventful gun,
Crush retribution, currant-jelly, pun.
Oh! eligible Darkness, fender, sting
Heav’n-born Insanity, courageous thing.
Intending, bending, scouring, piercing all,
Death like pomatum, tea, and crabs must fall.”
A very good method of making nonsense verses, consists in taking bits, selected here and there at random, out of
some particular poet, or phrases in his style, and then putting them together with a few additions of your own
secundùm artem. Sometimes, however, it answers very well to copy a page or so of an author word for word.
Nonsense verses composed in this manner, form not only a beneficial exercise, but are also very useful for
insertion in young ladies’ albums; as they can be made without much trouble, and when made, are not only
thought just as well of as the most sensible productions would be, but very often cried over into the bargain, as [Pg 210]
affecting and pathetic.
EXAMPLE.
THE OCEAN WANDERER.
2. Measures reducible to no rule, or Doggrel. Sternhold and Hopkins, of whom suchhonourable mention has [Pg 215]
been made above, were illustrious as Doggrel writers. They have been somewhat eclipsed, however, by their
modern successors, Nicholas Brady and Nahum Tate, who may, perhaps, be safely pronounced the chief of
uninspired bards.
Original composers in this description of verse are often not much more particular about Syntax,—and we might
add Orthography,—than they are about Prosody. The following extract from an unpublished satire on the singing
of a country catch-club, is a tolerably fair specimen of English Doggrel:—
“A gentleman, who was passing by,
Was very much amazed at what they were going to try,
Said, ‘Hear their voices, how they sing,
How badly they all chime in!’
After such singing, what do you think of us,
To send forth sounds of mirthfulness?”
Doggrel is commonly used by anonymous poets for the purpose of embodying the moral reflections which a
homicide or an execution excites in the sensitive mind. It is likewise the metre in which the imaginative sempstress
pours forth the feelings of her bosom. May we hope that our remarks on Prosody will in some little degree tend to [Pg 216]
facilitate, perhaps to improve, the future treatment of those two deeply interesting subjects—Love and Murder?
PUNCTUATION.
“Mind your stops.” This is one of the earliest maxims inculcated by the instructors of youth. Hence it is clear that
the subject of Punctuation is an important one; but inasmuch as the reader, who has arrived at the present page,
has either not understood a word that he has been reading, or else knows as much about the matter as we can tell
him, we fear that a long dissertation concerning periods, commas, and so on, would only serve to embarrass his
progress in learning with useless stops. We shall, therefore, confine ourselves to that notice of Punctuation, and
that only, which the peculiar nature of our work may require.
First, it may be remarked, that the notes of admiration which we so often hear in theatres, may be called notes
of hand. Secondly, that notes of interrogation are not at all like bank notes; although they are largely uttered in
Banco Reginæ. Let us now proceed with our subject.
It is both absurd and inconvenient to stand upon points. [Pg 218]
Of how much consequence, however, Punctuation is, the student may form some idea, by considering the
different effects which a piece of poetry, for instance, which he has been accustomed to regard as sublime or
beautiful, will have, when liberties are taken with it in that respect.
Imagine an actor commencing Hamlet’s famous soliloquy, thus:— [Pg 219]
[Pg 221]
ADDRESS TO YOUNG STUDENTS.
Young Gentlemen,
Having attentively perused the foregoing pages, you will be desirous, it is to be presumed, of carrying still further
those comical pursuits in which, with both pleasure and profit to yourselves, you have been lately engaged. Should
such be your laudable intention, you will learn, with feelings of lively satisfaction, that it is one, in the
accomplishment of which, thanks to Modern Taste, you will find encouragement at every step. The literature of
the day is professedly comic, and of the few works which are not made ludicrous by the design of their authors,
the majority are rendered so in spite of it. In the course of your reading, however, you will be frequently brought
into contact with hackney-coachmen, cabmen, lackeys, turnkeys, thieves, lawyers’ clerks, medical students, and
other people of that description, who are all very amusing when properly viewed, as the monkeys and such like
animals at the Zoological Gardens are, when you look at them through the bars of their cage. But too great [Pg 222]
familiarity with persons of this class is sure to breed contempt, not for them and their manners, but for the usages
and modes of expression adopted in parlours and drawing-rooms, that is to say, in good society. Nay, it is very
likely to cause those who indulge in it to learn various tricks and eccentricities, both of behaviour and speech, for
“It is certain, that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of another.”
Shakspere.
Beset thus, as you will necessarily be, by perils and dangers in your wanderings amid the fields of Comicality, you
will derive great advantage from knowing before-hand what you are likely to meet with, and what it will be
incumbent on you to avoid. It is to furnish you with this information that the following hints and instructions are
intended.
Be careful, when you hear yourself called by name, to reply “Here I am,” and not “Here you are,” an error into
which you are very likely to be led by the perusal of existing authors.
When you partake, if it be your habit to do so, of the beverage called porter, drink it as you would water, or any
other liquid. Do not wink your eye, or nod sideways to your companion; such actions, especially when preceded
by blowing away the foam which collects on the top of the vessel, being exceedingly inelegant: and in order that [Pg 223]
you may not be incommoded by this foam or froth, always pour the fluid gently into a tumbler, instead of drinking
it out of the metallic tankard in which it is usually brought to you.
In asking for malt liquor generally, never request the waiter to “draw it mild;” and do not, on any occasion, be
guilty of using the same phrase in a metaphorical sense, that is to say, as a substitute, for “Do it quietly.” “Be
gentle,” and the like.
Never exhort young ladies, during a quadrille, to “fake away,” or to “flare up,” for they, being unacquainted with
the meaning of such terms, will naturally conclude that it is an improper one.
Call all articles of dress by their proper names. What delight can be found by a thinking mind in designating a hat
as a tile, trousers, kickseys, a neckerchief, a fogle, or a choker; or a great coat, an upper Benjamin? And never
speak of clothes, collectively, as togs or toggery.
Avoid inquiries after the health of another person’s mother, using that word synonymously with Mamma, to
denote a female parent. Though you may be really innocent of any intention to be rude, your motives may very
possibly be misconstrued. Remember, also, on no account to put questions, either to friends or strangers, [Pg 224]
respecting the quantity of soap in their possession.
Should it be necessary for you to speak of some one smoking tobacco, do not call that substance a weed, or the
act of using it “blowing a cloud.”
When an acquaintance pays you a visit, take care, in rising to receive him, not to appear to be washing your
hands, and, should you be engaged in writing at the time, place your pen on the table, or in the inkstand, and not
behind your ear.
Observe, when your tailor comes to measure you, the way in which he wears his hair, and should your own style
in this particular unfortunately resemble his, be sure to alter it immediately.
Never dance à la cuisinière, that is to say, do not cut capers.
Eschew large shirt pins.
Be not guilty of patent leather boots.
Never say “Ma’am” or “Miss,” in addressing a young lady. If you cannot contrive to speak to her without doing
so, say nothing.
In conversation, especially in female society, beware of indulging in jocose expressions, or witticisms, on the [Pg 225]
subject of executions. If it be necessary to remark that such and such a person expiated his crimes on the
scaffold, content yourself with simply mentioning the circumstance, and do not make any attempt to illustrate your
meaning by dropping your head on your right shoulder, and jerking up your neckcloth under your left ear.
Never, under any circumstances, let the abbreviation “gent.” for gentleman, escape the enclosure of your teeth.
Above all things, for the sake of whatever you hold most dear, never say “me and another gent.”
It may happen, that a youthful acquaintance may so far forget himself as to talk of giving another “monkey’s
allowance, more kicks than half-pence.” You, of course, will never dream of giving utterance to such language,
nor will any inducement, it is to be hoped, ever prevail upon you to say, as an unthinking young friend once did,
hearing the above threat made, “that you prefer kicks (meaning thereby sixpences) to half-pence.” In general
avoid all low wit.
When you receive a coin of any kind, deposit it at once in your pocket, without the needless preliminary of furling
it in the air.
Never ask a gentleman how much he has a-year.
In speaking of a person of your own age, or of an elderly gentleman, do not say, Old So-and-So, but So-and-so, [Pg 226]
or Mr. So-and-so, as the case may be: and have no nicknames for each other. We were much horrified not long
since, by hearing a great coarse fellow, in a leathern hat and fustian jacket, exclaim, turning round to his
companion, “Now, then, come along, old Blokey!”
When you have got a cold in the head and weak eyes, do not go and call on young ladies.
Do not eat gravy with a knife, for fear those about you should suppose you to be going to commit suicide.
In offering to help a person at dinner, do not say, “Allow me to assist you.” When you ask people what wine they
will take, never say, “What’ll you have?” or, “What’ll you do it in?”
If you are talking to a clergyman about another member of the clerical profession, adopt some other method of
describing his avocation than that of saying, “I believe he is in your line.”
Do not recommend an omelet to a lady, as a good article.
Be cautious not to use the initial letter of a person’s surname, in mentioning or in addressing him. For instance,
never think of saying, “Mrs. Hobbs, pray, how is Mr. H.?”
We here approach the conclusion of our labours. Young gentlemen, once more it is earnestly requested that you [Pg 227]
will give your careful attention to the rules and admonitions which have been above laid down for your guidance.
We might have given a great many more; but we hope that the spirit of our instructions will enable the diligent
youth to supply, by observation and reflection, that which, for obvious reasons, we have necessarily left unsaid.
And now we bid you farewell. That you may never have the misfortune of entering, with splashed boots, a
drawing-room full of ladies; that you may never, having been engaged in a brawl on the previous evening, meet,
with a black eye, the object of your affections the next morning; that you may never, in a moment of agitation,
omit the aspirate, or use it when you ought not; that your laundress may always do justice to your linen; and your
tailor make your clothes well, and send them home in due time; that your braces may never give way during a
waltz; that you may never, sitting in a strong light at a large dinner-party, suddenly remember that you have not
shaved for two days; that your hands and face may ever be free from tan, chaps, freckles, pimples, brandy-
blossoms, and all other disfigurements; that you may never be either inelegantly fat, or ridiculously lean; and finally, [Pg 228]
that you may always have plenty to eat, plenty to drink, and plenty to laugh at, we earnestly and sincerely wish.
And should your lot in life be other than fortunate, we can only say, that we advise you to bear it with patience; to
cultivate Comic Philosophy; and to look upon your troubles as a joke.
VIVAT REGINA!
THE END.
Footnotes:
[1] It may be said that Punch is a foreign importation. True; and the same assertion may be made respecting the
drink of that name, the ingredients of which are all exotic, except the water: nevertheless the peculiar fondness of
our countrymen for it will hardly on that account be questioned. But the real fact is, that there is nothing outlandish
about Punch except the name, and even that has been Anglicised. We are proverbial for improving on the
inventions of other nations, but we have done more than improve upon Punch; we have entirely remodelled his
character; and he is now no more an Italian than the descendant of one who came in with the Conqueror is a
Norman. The correctness of this position will be found to be singularly borne out on a perusal of that celebrated
work, “Punch and Judy;” in which (no doubt from unavoidable circumstances) the dialogues were actually taken
down from the mouth of an Italian, one Piccini, an itinerant exhibitor of the drama. The book is, or ought to be, in
everybody’s hands. Still, let any one refer to that particular part of it, and, provided that his taste is a correct one,
he will not fail to be struck with the deteriorating effect which Signor Piccini’s broken English and Italian loquacity
have produced on the spirit of the original. Nothing is more characteristic of the real Mr. Punch than the laconic
manner in which he expresses himself, and nothing at the same time is more English. As to the embellishments of
his discourse, introduced by Piccini, they are about as appropriate and admirable as Colley Cibber’s
improvements on Richard the Third.
[2] See Warren’s “Ode to Kitty of Shoe Lane,” Advertisements, London Press, passim.
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