themselves as masters of language, because perhaps they have got a smattering of French or Latin, devote to literature the hours which ought to be employed in some meaner pursuit, and set themselves up as guides of the public taste. Mistaking etymology for erudition, and erudition for all that constitutes an author, they assume the right of innovation in the republic of letters, as if it were all their own; each of them equalling or excelling Sir Hudibras in that rare faculty, by which—

Fortunately, however, our language is now able to repel such attempts by her own strength. The weapons which are necessary to protect her purity, she herself supplies. The genius of our language is now ascertained; we can appeal to its established usage, and, what is not of less consequence, we can employ the authority of writers of reputation to chastise the temerity of every puerile innovator, and to drive him from the field of letters.

From this cursory view, it appears that the language now spoken in England, is not a primitive,

simple language, invented and brought to perfection by one people, in one country; but a compound of modern fabrication, consisting of a great variety of materials, sufficiently motley, irregular and disjointed. Its basis is the ancient Gothic or Teutonic, variously modified by the Saxons, the Danes, and the Normans, and again united into one mass, with a mixture of Greek, Latin, Celtic, and modern French.

To state fully the advantages and disadvantages, which may be supposed to belong to a language so constructed, would lead to a detail more extensive than is consistent with my design. It is sufficient to remark, that if less compact, and consequently less smooth and harmonious, than simple languages wholly formed within themselves, the English has the advantage in point of copiousness, and, that what it wants in respect of grace, is compensated in respect of variety. It is a language naturally bold and nervous, and, at the same time, remarkable for simplicity of inflexion and structure. If then, with this sim

plicity, it is found, without discrimination of subject, capable of conveying the thoughts of one man to another with clearness and precision, the end of language is effectually answered. Some have alleged, that the English language is not so proper for poetry and oratory, as the Greek and Latin; but such an

allegation is unsupported by proof. Addison says, indeed, that the English language sunk under Milton; but so would the Greek have sunk under Homer, had he written an epic poem on Milton's subject.

English verse, to an English ear, is neither deficient in harmony nor variety. It has been found suitable to every subject to which it has yet been applied, and in no language with which we are acquainted, has so great a diversity of subjects been treated in a poetical manner. We have had orators in the pulpit, in the senate, and at the bar, who, for manly sense and sound argument, have not been surpassed by any of the orators of antiquity, and we may proudly boast,

"That Chatham's language is our mother tongue."

ANALYSIS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

THAT men, in every period of society, employ articulate sounds in communicating their thoughts to one another, if not certain, is at least highly probable; but they have generally made considerable progress in civilization, before language becomes in any degree an object of their attention. The art of writing has been long practised before grammar has existed. In

deed, the rules of grammar, like those of any other art, are deduced from practice.

"These rules of old discovered, not devised,

Are nature still, but nature methodized."

But though the instrument of thought has been long employed, without any inquiry respecting its nature, we must not hence infer, that such an enquiry is either unnecessary or unimportant.

Between articulate sounds, and those ideas for which we employ them, there is no natural or necessary connexion; otherwise, men in all countries must have used the same sounds to signify the same things.

"What's in a name? that which we call a rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet."

The connexion seems wholly arbitrary; nor does there appear to be any principle in the human mind, that should induce men in any given circumstances to prefer, as the sign of an idea, one sound to another. Some are of opinion, that in forming the radical words of language, the inventors endeavoured to make the sounds which they adopted, significant of the things for which they were employed. "We find," says Dr. Blair," a multitude of words, in all languages, that are evidently constructed upon this principle. A certain bird is termed the

cuckoo, from the sound which it emits.

When one

sort of wind is said to whistle, and another to roar; when a serpent is said to hiss, a fly to buzz, and falling timber to crash; when a stream is said to flow, and hail to rattle; the analogy between the word and the thing signified is plainly discernible." Admitting this to be true with regard to English, it would go to prove that our untutored ancestors were the only people competent to judge of the resemblance between sounds and things; for in other languages, we find different sounds employed to express the same ideas; and we cannot consistently affirm, that two sounds, entirely different from each other, have both a resemblance to the thing signified. But, granting, that in the formation of language, men were influenced by such a principle, it could only operate in forming words significant of sounds. In words significant of forms and colours, and of actions, whether corporeal or mental, no trace of resemblance could be discovered.

Though we cannot tell what circumstances induced men, in the remoter periods of the formation of language, to prefer one sound to another as the name of any object, we know, that in more recent instances, names of things newly invented, or of places newly discovered, have generally originated in other names already in use. This is done, sometimes by making