It does not explain the value of words, nor their proper use, and adds little to our vocabulary, though an abundance of words is indispensable to correct speaking and writing. It teaches neither pronunciation nor accent, nor the orthography of the variable parts of words, nor their diverse meanings, nor the difference of signification between words improperly called synonyms, nor the propriety of figurative language, nor any of those delicacies of expression which constitute the genius of a language, and characterize a clear, elegant, and correct style. So grammarians, who devote their lives to the rules of language, are scarcely famous for their style. I do not know of one who has ever distinguished himself as an orator or writer. On the contrary, the greatest writers, such as Corneille, Pascal, Molière, La Fontaine, and others, owe nothing to grammar; it did not exist in their time. The same is true of Homer, Thucydides, Virgil, Cicero, Dante, Petrarch, Milton, and Shakespeare. Grammar, then, is not the art of speaking and writing correctly, and still less is it the art of reading, by which we ought to commence the study of language. "I should be glad," said Locke, "if I could be shown the language that could be learned by the rules of grammar." "A century of theory," said Lemare, "will not advance us a step in the knowledge of language." "It is the grossest mistake," said Condillac, "to commence with rules."
M. Jules Simon, in suppressing the mnemonic lessons of grammar, has rendered a true service to linguistic teaching. Rules, no matter what, or how many, confided to the memory, will never instruct a man, nor will they give habits of patient observation. A man might learn by heart all the laws that govern the sciences, and hold them as certainties, without at all developing his intelligence. If we could introduce into a man's head, without effort on his part, a knowledge of all the facts and results of scientific research, he would be in reality less capable than he who had learned, by a rational method, to work out a sum in the rule of three.
As a corollary of the grammar, children make grammatical analyses which draw their attention to the classification and function of words, but do not in any way enable them to understand an author, or express their own ideas, or exercise the judgment. These analyses teach grammar, not language. The man without the least ability for making them understands what he says, or what is said to him, as well as the most profound grammarian.
II. Of Themes.—The theme, auxiliary to the grammar, and the favorite exercise of the university, is no better than the grammar to teach reading. The understanding of a written text does not imply the power to write. Reason requires that the learner read before writing, and so secure the means of knowing good usage and imitating the style of great writers. The particular figurative words of a language that have no French equivalents, and the idioms of frequent use in conversation, are quite outside of themes which simply exemplify the
