code, or by rejecting the common phraseolgy of its doctrines, but by extending the former, improving the latter, and establishing both;—but still more, by furnishing new illustrations of the subject, and arranging its vast number of particulars in such order that every item may be readily found.
An other important purpose, which, in the preparation of this work, has been borne constantly in mind, and judged worthy of very particular attention, was the attempt to settle, so far as the most patient investigation and the fullest exhibition of proofs could do it, the multitudinous and vexatious disputes which have hitherto divided the sentiments of teachers, and made the study of English grammar so uninviting, unsatisfactory, and unprofitable, to the student whose taste demands a reasonable degree of certainty.
"Whenever labour implies the exertion of thought, it does good, at least to the strong: when the saving of labour is a saving of thought, it enfeebles. The mind, like the body, is strengthened by hard exercise: but, to give this exercise all its salutary effect, it should be of a reasonable kind; it should lead us to the perception of regularity, of order, of principle, of a law. When, after all the trouble we have taken, we merely find anomalies and confusion, we are disgusted with what is so uncongenial: and, as our higher faculties have not been called into action, they are not unlikely to be outgrown by the lower, and overborne as it were by the underwood of our minds. Hence, no doubt, one of the reasons why our language has been so much neglected, and why such scandalous ignorance prevails concerning its nature and history, is its unattractive, disheartening irregularity: none but Satan is fond of plunging into chaos."—Philological Museum, (Cambridge, Eng., 1832,) Vol. i, p. 666.
If there be any remedy for the neglect and ignorance here spoken of, it must be found in the more effectual teaching of English grammar. But the principles of grammar can never have any beneficial influence over any person's manner of speaking or writing, till by some process they are made so perfectly familiar, that he can apply them with all the readiness of a native power; that is, till he can apply them not only to what has been said or written, but to whatever he is about to utter. They must present themselves to the mind as by intuition, and with the quickness of thought; so as to regulate his language before it proceeds from the lips or the pen. If they come only by tardy recollection, or are called to mind but as contingent afterthoughts, they are altogether too late; and serve merely to mortify the speaker or writer, by reminding him of some deficiency or inaccuracy which there may then be no chance to amend.
But how shall, or can, this readiness be acquired? I answer, By a careful attention to such exercises as are fitted to bring the learner's knowledge into practice. The student will therefore find, that I have given him something to do, as well as something to learn. But, by the formules and directions in this work, he is very carefully shown how to proceed; and, if he be a tolerable reader, it will be his own fault, if he does not, by such aid, become a tolerable grammarian. The chief of these exercises are the parsing of what is right, and the correcting of what is wrong; both, perhaps, equally important; and I have intended to make them equally easy. To any real proficient in grammar, nothing can be more free from embarrassment, than the performance of these exercises, in all ordinary cases. For grammar, rightly learned, institutes in the mind a certain knowledge, or process of thought, concerning the sorts, properties, and relations, of all the words which can be presented in any intelligible sentence; and, with the initiated, a perception of the construction will always instantly follow or accompany a discovery of the sense: and instantly, too, should there be a perception of the error, if any of the words are misspelled, misjoined, misapplied,—or are, in any way, unfaithful to the sense intended.
Thus it is the great end of grammar, to secure the power of apt expression, by causing the principles on which language is constructed, if not to be constantly present to the mind, at least to pass through it more rapidly than either pen or voice can utter words. And where this power resides, there cannot but be a proportionate degree of critical skill, or of ability to judge of the language of others. Present what you will, grammar directs the mind immediately to a consideration of the sense; and, if properly taught, always creates a discriminating taste which is not less offended by specious absurdities, than by the common blunders of clownishness. Every one who has any pretensions to this art, knows that, to parse a sentence, is but to resolve it according to one's understanding of its import; and it is equally clear, that the power to correct an erroneous passage, usually demands or implies a knowledge of the author's thought.
But, if parsing and correcting are of so great practical importance as our first mention of them suggests, it may be well to be more explicit here concerning them. The pupil who cannot perform these exercises both accurately and fluently, is not truly prepared to perform them at all, and has no right to expect from any body a patient hearing. A slow and faltering rehearsal of words clearly prescribed, yet neither fairly remembered nor understandingly applied, is as foreign from parsing or correcting, as it is from elegance of diction. Divide and conquer, is the rule here, as in many other cases. Begin with what is simple; practise it till it becomes familiar; and then proceed. No child ever learned to speak by any other process. Hard things become easy by use; and skill is gained by little and little.
Of the whole method of parsing, it should be understood, that it is to be a critical exercise in utterance, as well as an evidence of previous study,—an exhibition of the learner's
