"Isatme down and wept."
"Isatme down and wept."
"Hesat himdown by a pillar's base,And drew his hand athwart his face."Byron.
"Hesat himdown by a pillar's base,And drew his hand athwart his face."
Byron.
"Then, having shown his wounds, he'dsit himdown,And, all the live long day, discourse of war."Tragedy of Douglass.
"Then, having shown his wounds, he'dsit himdown,And, all the live long day, discourse of war."
Tragedy of Douglass.
"Butwhereforesits hethere?Death on my state!This actconvinces meThat this retiredness of the duke and her,Is plain contempt."King Lear.
"Butwhereforesits hethere?Death on my state!This actconvinces meThat this retiredness of the duke and her,Is plain contempt."
King Lear.
"Sitting, theact of restingon a seat.Session, theact of sitting."Johnson's Dictionary.
"Sitting, theact of restingon a seat.Session, theact of sitting."
Johnson's Dictionary.
"I sleep."
Is sleep a neuter verb? So we are gravely told by our authors. Can grammarians follow their own rules? If so, they may spend the "live long night" and "its waking hours," without resorting to "tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep;" for there is no process under heaven whereby they can procure sleep, unless theysleepit. For one, I can neversleepwithout sleepingsleep—sometimes only a shortnap. It matters not whether the object is expressed or not. The action remains the same. The true object is necessarily understood, and it would be superfluous to name it. Cases, however, often occur where, both in speaking and writing, it becomes indispensable to mention the object. "The stout hearted haveslepttheir sleep." "They shallsleepthesleepof death." "They shallsleepthe perpetualsleep, and shall not awake." "Sleepon now andtakeyour rest." The child was troublesome and the mother sung it to sleep, and itslept itselfquiet. A lady took opium andslept herselfto death. "Many persons sleep themselves into a kind of unnatural stupidity." Rip Van Winkle, according to the legend,sleptaway a large portion of a common life.
"Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares."
"Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares."
"Andsleepdullcaresaway."
"Andsleepdullcaresaway."
Was your sleep refreshing last night? How did you procure it? Let a person who still adheres to hisneuterverbs, that sleep expresses no action, and has no object on which it terminates, put his theory in practice; he may as well sleep with his eyes open, sitting up, as tolie himselfupon his bed.
A man lodged in an open chamber, and while he wassleeping(doing nothing) hecaughta severecold(active transitive verb) and had a longrunof the fever. Who does not see, not only the bad, but also the false philosophy of such attempted distinctions? How can you make a child discover any difference in theact of sleeping, whether there is an object after it, or not? Is it not the same? And is not the object necessarily implied, whether expressed or not? Can a personsleep, without procuringsleep?
"I stand."
The manstandsfirm in his integrity. Another stands in a very precarious condition, and being unable to retain his hold,fallsdown the precipice and is killed. Who is killed? The man, surely. Why did he fall? Because he could notstand. But there is noactioninstanding, say the books.
"Standby thyself, come not near me?" "Standfast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made you free, andbenot again entangled in the yoke of bondage." "Let him that thinketh hestandeth, take heed lest hefall." If it requires no act tostand, there can be no danger of falling.
"Two pillars stood together; the rest had fallen to the ground. The one on the right was quite perfect in all its parts. The otherresembled itvery much, except it hadlostits capital, andsufferedsome other injuries." How could the latter column, while performing no action instanding, acttransitively,accordingto our grammars, and do something toresemblethe other? or, what did it do toloseits capital, andsufferother injury?
"Tolie, orlay."
It has been admitted that the verbs before considered are often used as active verbs, and that there is, in truth, actionexpressed by them. But when the man has fallen from his seat andliesupon the floor, it is contended that he no longer acts, and thatlieexpresses no action. He has ceased from physical, muscular action regulated by his will, and is now subject to the common laws which govern matter.
Let us take a strong example. The bookliesorlayson the desk. Now you ask, does that book perform any action in laying on the desk? I answer, yes; and I will prove it on the principles of the soundest philosophy, to the satisfaction of every one present. Nor will I deviate from existing grammars to do it, so far as real action is concerned.
The booklieson the desk. The desksupportsthe book. Will you parsesupports? It is, according to every system, an active transitive verb. It has an objective case after it on which the action terminates. But what does the desk do tosupportthe book? It barely resists the action which the bookperformsin lying on it. The action of the desk and book is reciprocal. But if the book does not act, neither can the desk act, for that only repels the force of the book in pressing upon it in its tendency towards the earth, in obedience to the law of gravitation. And yet our authors have told us that the desk isactivein resisting no action of the book! No wonder people are unable to understand grammar. It violates the first principles of natural science, and frames to itself a code of laws, unequal, false, and exceptionable, which bear no affinity to the rest of the world, and will not apply in the expression of ideas.
I was once lecturing on this subject in one of the cities of New-York. Mrs. W., the distinguished teacher of one of the most popular Female Seminaries in our country, attended. At the close of one lecture she remarked that thegreatest fault she had discovered in the new system, was the want of a class of words to express neutrality. Children, she said, conceived ideas of things in a quiescent state, and words should be taught them by which to communicate such ideas. I asked her for an example. She gave the rock in the side of the mountain. It had never moved. It could never act. There it had been from the foundation of the earth, and there it would remain unaltered and unchanged till time should be no longer. I remarked, that I would take another small stone andlayit on the great one which could never act, and now we say the great rockupholds,sustainsorsupportsthe small one—all active transitive verbs with an object expressed.
She replied, she would give it up, for it had satisfied her of a new principle which must be observed in the exposition of all language, which accords withfacts as developed in physical and mental science.
I continued, not only does that rock act in resisting the force of the small one which lays upon it, but, by the attraction of gravitation it is able tomaintainitspositionin the side of the mountain; by cohesion itretainsits distinct identity and solidity, and repels all foreign bodies. It is also subject to the laws which govern the earth in its diurnal and annual revolutions, and moves in common with other matter at the astonishing rate of a thousand miles in an hour! Who shall teach children, in these days of light and improvement, the grovelling doctrine of neutrality, this relic of the peripatetic philosophy? Will parents send their children to school to learn falsehood? And can teachers be satisfied to remain in ignorance, following with blind reverence the books they have studied, and refuse to examine new principles, fearing they shall be compelled toacknowledge former errors and study new principles? They should remember it is wiser and more honorable to confess a fault and correct it, than it is to remain permanent in error.
Let us take another example of the verb "to lie." A country pedagogue who has followed his authorities most devotedly, and taught his pupils thatlieis a "neuter verb, expressing neither action nor passion, but simply being, or a state of being," goes out, during the intermission, into a grove near by, toexercise himself. In attempting to roll a log up the hill, hemakesa mis-step, andfalls(intransitive verb,nothingfalls!) to the ground, and the logrolls(nothing) on to him, andliesacross his legs. In this condition he is observed by his scholars to whom he cries (nothing) for help. "Do (nothing) come (intransitive) and help me." They obey him and remainneuter, or at least actintransitively, and produce no effects. He cries again for help and hiscriesare regarded. Theypresentthemselves before him. "Do roll this log off; it will break my legs." "Oh no, master; how can that be? The loglieson you, does it not?" "Yes, and it willpress meto death." "No, no; that can never be. The log can not act.Liesis aneuterverb, signifying neitheractionnor passion, but simply being or a state of being. You have astateof being, and the log has a state of being. It can not harm you. You must have forgotten the practical application of the truths you have been teaching us." It would be difficult to explain neuter verbs in such a predicament.
"Now Ilayme downto sleep."
"Now Ilayme downto sleep."
"She died and theylaid herbeside her lover under the spreading branches of the willow."
"Theylaid itaway so secure that they could never find it."
Theylaiddown torest themselvesafter the fatigue of a whole day's journey.
We have now considered the model verbs of the neuter kind, with the exception of the verbto be, which is left for a distinct consideration, being the most active of all verbs. It is unnecessary to spend much time on this point. The errors I have examined have all been discovered by teachers of language, long ago, but few have ventured to correct them. An alleviation of the difficulty has been sought in the adoption of the intransitive verb, which "expresses an action that is confined to the actor or agent."
The remarks which have been given in the present lecture will serve as a hint to the course we shall adopt in treating of them, but the more particular examination of their character and uses, together with some general observation on the agents and objects of verbs, will be deferred to our next lecture.
Neuter and intransitive. — Agents. — Objects. — No actions as such can be known distinct from the agent. — Imaginary actions. — Actions known by their effects. — Examples. — Signs should guide to things signified. — Principles of action. —Power. — Animals. — Vegetables. — Minerals. — All things act. — Magnetic needle. —Cause. — Explained. — First Cause. —Means. — Illustrated. — Sir I. Newton's example. — These principles must be known. —Relativeaction. — Anecdote of Gallileo.
Neuter and intransitive. — Agents. — Objects. — No actions as such can be known distinct from the agent. — Imaginary actions. — Actions known by their effects. — Examples. — Signs should guide to things signified. — Principles of action. —Power. — Animals. — Vegetables. — Minerals. — All things act. — Magnetic needle. —Cause. — Explained. — First Cause. —Means. — Illustrated. — Sir I. Newton's example. — These principles must be known. —Relativeaction. — Anecdote of Gallileo.
We resume the consideration of verbs. We closed our last lecture with the examination ofneuter verbs, as they have been called. It appears to us that evidence strong enough to convince the most skeptical was adduced to prove thatsit,sleep,standandlie, stand in the same relation to language as other verbs, that they do not, in any case, express neutrality, but frequently admit an objective word after them. These are regarded as the most neutral of all the verbs exceptto be, which, by the way, expresses the highest degree of action, as we shall see when we come to inquire into its meaning.
Grammarians have long ago discovered the falsity of the books in the use of a large portion of verbs which have been called neuter. To obviate the difficulty, some of them have adopted the distinction ofIntransitiveverbs, which express action, but terminate on no object; others still use the termneuter, but teach their scholars that when theobjectisexpressed, it is active. This distinction has only tended to perplex learners, while it afforded only a temporary expedient to teachers, by which to dodge the question at issue. So far as the action is concerned, which it is the business of the verb to express, what is the difference whether "Irun, orrunmyself?" "A man started in haste. Heranso fast that heran himselfto death." I strike Thomas, Thomasstrikes David, Thomasstrikes himself. Where is the difference in the action? What matters it whether the action passes over to another object, or is confined within itself?
"But," says the objector, "you mistake. An intransitive verb is one where the 'effect is confined within the subject, and does not pass over to any object.'"
Very well, I think I understand the objection. When Thomas strikes David the effects of the blowpasses overto him. And when he strikes himself, it "is confined within the subject," and hence the latter is anintransitiveverb.
"No, no; there is an object on which the action terminates, in that case, and so we must call it atransitiveverb."
Will you give me an example of anintransitiveverb?
"Irun, hewalks, birdsfly, itrains, the fireburns. No objects are expressed after these words, so the action is confined within themselves."
I now get your meaning. When the object isexpressedthe verb is transitive, when it is not it is intransitive. This distinction is generally observed in teaching, however widely it may differ from the intention of the makers of grammars. And hence children acquire the habit of limiting their inquiries to what they see placed before them by others, and do not think for themselves. When the verb has an objective word after itexpressed, they are taught to attach action to it; but tho the action may be even greater,if the object is not expressed, they consider the action as widely different in its character, and adopt the false philosophy that a cause can exist without an effect resulting from it.
We assume this ground, and we shall labor to maintain it, that every verb necessarily presupposes anagentoractor, anaction, and anobjectacted upon, or affected by the action.
No action, as such, can be known to exist separate from the thing that acts. We can conceive no idea of action, only by keeping our minds fixed on the acting substance, marking its changes, movements, and tendencies. "The bookmoves." In this case the eye rests on the book, and observes its positions and attitudes, alternating one way and the other. You can separate no action from the book, nor conceive any idea of it, as a separate entity. Let the book be taken away. Where now is the action? What can you think or say of it? There is the same space just now occupied by the book, but no action is perceivable.
The boyrollshis marble upon the floor. All his ideas of the action performed by it are derived from an observation of the marble. His eye follows it as it moves along the floor. He sees it in that acting condition. When he speaks of the action as a whole, he thinks where it started and where it stopped. It is of no importance, so far as the verb is concerned, whether the marble received an impulse from his hand, or whether the floor was sufficiently inclined to allow it to roll by its own inherent tendency. The action is, in this case, the obvious change of the marble.
Our whole knowledge of action depends on an observance of things in a state of motion, or change, or exerting a tendency to change, or to counteract an opposing substance.
This will be admitted so far as material things are concerned. The same principle holds good in reference to every thing of which we form ideas, or concerning which we use language. In our definition of nouns we spoke of immaterial and imaginary things to which we gavenamesand which we consider as agencies capable of exerting an influence in the production of effects, or in resisting actions. It is therefore unimportant whether the action be real or imaginary. It is still inseparably connected with the thing that acts; and we employ it thus in the construction of language to express our thoughts. Thus, lions roar; birds sing; minds reflect; fairies dance; knowledge increases; fancies err; imagination wanders.
This fact should be borne in mind in all our attempts to understand or explain language. The mind should remain fixed to the acting substance, to observe its changes and relations at different periods, and in different circumstances. There is no other process by which any knowledge can be gained of actions. The mind contemplates the acting thing in a condition of change and determines the precise action by thealtered conditionof the thing, and thus learns to judge of actions by their effects. The only method by which we can know whether avegetable growsor not is by comparing its form to-day with what it was some days ago. We can not decide on the improvement of our children only by observing the same rule.
"By their fruits ye shall know them," will apply in physics as well as in morals; for we judge of causes only by their effects. First principles can never be known. We observe things as theyare, and remember how theyhave been; and from hence deduce our conclusions in reference to thecauseof things we do not fully understand, orthose consequences which will follow a condition of things as now existing. It is the business of philosophy to mark these effects, and trace them back to the causes which produced them, by observing all the intermediate changes, forms, attitudes, and conditions, in which such things have, at different times, been placed.
We say, "trees grow." But suppose no change had ever been observed in trees, that they had always been as they now are; in stature as lofty, in foliage as green and beautiful, in location unaltered. Who would then say, "trees grow?"
In this single expression a whole train of facts are taken into the account, tho not particularly marked. As a single expression we imply thattrees increase their stature. But this we all know could never be effected without the influence of other causes. The soil where it stands must contain properties suited to thegrowthof the tree. A due portion of moisture and heat are also requisite. These facts all exist, and are indispensable to make good the expression that the "tree grows." We might also trace the capabilities of the tree itself, its roots, bark, veins or pores, fibres or grains, its succulent and absorbent powers. But, as in the case of the "man that killed the deer," noticed in a former lecture, the mind here conceives a single idea of a complete whole, which is signified by the single expression, "trees grow."
Let the following example serve in further illustration of this point. Take two bricks, the one heated to a high temperature, the other cold. Put them together, and in a short time you will find them of equal temperature. One has grown warm, the other cool. One hasimpartedheat andreceivedcold, the other hasreceivedheat andimpartedcold.Yet all this would remain forever unknown, but for the effects which must appear obvious to all. From these effects the causes are to be learned.
It must, I think, appear plain to all who are willing to see, that action, as such, can never exist distinct from the thing that acts; that all our notions of action are derived from an observance ofthingsin an acting condition; and hence that no words can be framed to express our ideas of action on any other principle.
I hope you will bear these principles in mind. They are vastly important in the construction of language, as will appear when we come to speak of theagentsandobjectsof action. We still adhere to the fact, that no rules of language can be successfully employed, which deviate from the permanent laws which operate in the regulation of matter and mind; a fact which can not be too deeply impressed on your minds.
In the consideration of actions as expressed by verbs, we must observe thatpower,cause,means,agency, andeffects, are indispensable to their existence. Such principles existin fact, and must be observed in obtaining a complete knowledge of language; for words, we have already seen, are the expression of ideas, and ideas are the impression of things.
In our attempts at improvement, we should strip away the covering, and come at the reality. Words should be measurably forgotten, while we search diligently for the things expressed by them.Signsshould always conduct to the thingssignified. The weary traveller, hungry and faint, would hardly satisfy himself with an examination of thesignbefore the inn, marking its form, the picture uponit, the nice shades of coloring in the painting. He would go in, and search for the thing signified.
It has been the fault in teaching language, that learners have been limited to the mereformsof words, while the important duty of teaching them to look at the thing signified, has been entirely disregarded. Hence they have only obtained book knowledge. They know what the grammars say; but how toapplywhat they say, or what is in reality meant by it, they have yet to learn. This explains the reason why almost every man who has studied grammar will tell you that "heusedto understand it, but it has all gone from him, for he has not looked into abookthese many years." Has he lost a knowledge of language? Oh, no, he learned that before he saw a grammar, and will preserve it to the day of his death. What good did his two or three years study of grammar do him? None at all; he has forgotten all that he ever knew of it, and that is not much, for he only learned what some author said, and a few arbitrary rules and technical expressions which he could never understand nor apply in practice, except in special cases. But I wander. I throw in this remark to show you the necessity of bringing your minds to a close observance of things as they do in truth exist; and from them you can draw the principles of speech, and be able to use language correctly. For we still insist on our former opinion, that all language depends on the permanent laws of nature, as exerted in the regulation of matter and mind.
To return. I have said that all action denotespower,cause,means,agency, andeffects.
Powerdepends onphysical energy, ormental skill. I have hinted at this fact before. Things act according tothe power or energy they possess. Animals walk, birds fly, fishes swim, minerals sink, poisons kill. Or, according to the adopted theories of naturalists:
Mineralsgrow.
Vegetablesgrowandlive.
Animalsgrow, andlive, andfeel.
Every thing acts according to the ability it possesses. Man, possessed of reason, devises means and produces ends. Beasts change locations, devour vegetables, and sometimes other beasts. The lowest grade of animals never change location, but yet eat and live. Vegetables live and grow, but do not change location. They have the power to reproduce their species, and some of them to kill off surrounding objects. "Thecarraguataof the West Indies, clings round," says Goldsmith, "whatever tree it happens to approach; there it quickly gains the ascendant, and, loading the tree with a verdure not its own, keeps away that nourishment designed to feed the trunk, and at last entirely destroys its supporter." In our country, many gardens and fields present convincing proof of the ability of weeds to kill out the vegetables designed to grow therein. You all have heard of theUpas, which has a power sufficient to destroy the lives of animals and vegetables for a large distance around. Its very exhalations are death to whatever approaches it. It serves in metaphor to illustrate the noxious effects of all vice, of slander and deceit, the effects of which are to the moral constitution, what the tree itself is to natural objects, blight and mildew upon whatever comes within its reach.
Minerals are possessed ofpowerno less astonishing, which may be observed whenever an opportunity is offered to call it forth. Active poisons, able to slay the most powerfulmen and beasts, lie hid within their bosoms. They have strong attractive and repelling powers. From the iron is made the strong cable whichholdsthe vessel fast in her moorings,enablingit to outride the collected force of the winds and waves whichthreatenits destruction. From it also are manufactured the manacles which bind the strong man, or fasten the lion in his cage. Goldpossessesa power whichcharmsnearly all men to sacrifice their ease, and too many their moral principles, to pay their blind devotions at its shrine.
Who will contend that the power of action is confined to the animal creation alone, and that inanimate matter can not act? That there is a superior power possessed by man, endowed with an immaterial spirit in a corporeal body, none will deny. By the agency of the mind he can accomplish wonders, which mere physical power without the aid of such mental skill, could never perform. But with all his boasted superiority, he is often made the slave of inanimate things. His lofty powers of body and soul bend beneath the weight of accumulated sorrows, produced by the secretoperationsof contagious disease, whichslayshis wife, children, and friends, who fall like the ripened harvest before the gatherers scythe. Nay, he often submits to the controlling power of the vine, alcohol, or tobacco, whichgaina secret influence over his nobler powers, andfixon him the stamp of disgrace, andthrowaround him fetters from which he finds it no easy matter to extricate himself. By the illusions of error and vice he is often betrayed, and long endures darkness and suffering, till heregainshis native energies, and finds deliverance in the enjoyment of truth and virtue.
What is that secret power which lies concealed beyond the reach of human ken, and is transported from land to land unknown, till exposed in conditions suited to its operation, will show its active and resistless force in the destruction of life, and the devastation of whole cities or nations? You may call it plague, or cholera, or small pox, miasma, contagion, particles of matter floating in the air surcharged with disease, or any thing else. It matters not what you call it. It is sufficient to our present purpose to know that it has the ability to put forth a prodigious power in the production of consequences, which the highest skill of man is yet unable to prevent.
I might pursue this point to an indefinite length, and trace the secret powers possessed by all created things, as exhibited in the influence they exert in various ways, both as regards themselves and surrounding objects. But you will at once perceive my object, and the truth of the positions I assume. A common power pervades all creation, operating by pure and perfect laws, regulated by the Great First Cause, the Moving Principle, which guides, governs, and controls the whole.[11]
Degrading indeed must be those sentiments which limit all action to the animal frame as an organized body, moved by a living principle. Ours is a sublimer duty; to trace the operations of the Divine Wisdom which acts thro out all creation, in the minutest particle of dust whichkeepsitspositionsecure, till moved by some superior power; or in theneedlewhich points with unerring skill to its fixed point, andguidesthe vessel, freighted with a hundred lives, safe thro the midnight storm, to its destined haven; tho rocked by the waves and driven by the winds, it remains uninfluenced, and tremblingly alive to the important duties entrusted to its charge, continues its faithful service, and is watched with the most implicit confidence by all on board, as the only guide to safety. The same Wisdom is displayed thro out all creation; in the beauty, order, and harmony of the universe; in the planets which float in the azure vault of heaven; in the glow worm that glitters in the dust; in the fish which cuts the liquid element; in thepearl which sparkles in the bottom of the ocean; in every thing that lives, moves, or has a being; but more distinctly in man, created in the moral image of his Maker, possessed of a heart to feel, and a mind to understand—the third in the rank of intelligent beings.
I cannot refuse to favor you with a quotation from that inimitable poem, Pope's Essay on Man. It is rife with sentiment of the purest and most exalted character. It is direct to our purpose. You may have heard it a thousand times; but I am confident you will be pleased to hear it again.
Ask for what end the heavenly bodies shine,Earth for whose use? Pride answers, "'Tis for mine:"For me kind nature wakes her genial pow'r,"Suckles each herb, and spreads out every flow'r;"Annual for me, the grape, the rose renew"The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew;"For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings;"For me health gushes from a thousand springs;"Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise;"My footstool earth, my canopy the skies."But errs not nature from this gracious end,From burning suns when livid deaths descend,When earthquakes swallow, or when tempests sweepTowns to one grave, whole nations to the deep?"No," ('tis replied,) "the first Almighty CauseActs not by partial, but by general laws;Th' exceptions few; some change since all began:And what created perfect?" Why then man?If the great end be human happiness,Then nature deviates—and can man do less?As much that end a constant course requiresOf show'rs and sunshine, as of man's desires;As much eternal springs and cloudless skies,As man forever temp'rate, calm, and wise.If plagues or earthquakes break not heaven's design.Why then a Borgia, or a Cataline?Who knows but He whose hand the lightning forms,Who heaves old ocean, and who wings the storms;Pours fierce ambition in a Cæsar's mind;Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge mankind?From pride, from pride our very reas'ning springs;Account for moral as for nat'ral things:Why charge we heaven in those, in these acquit?In both, to reason right, is to submit.Better for us, perhaps, it might appear,Were there all harmony, all virtue here;That never air or ocean felt the wind;That never passion discomposed the mind.Butallsubsists by elemental strife;And passions are the elements of life.The generalorder, since the whole began,Is kept in nature, and is kept in man.Look round our world, behold the chain of love.Combining all below and all above;See plastic nature working to this end,The single atoms each to other tend;Attract, attracted to, the next in placeFormed and impelled its neighbor to embrace,See matter next, with various life endued,Press to one center still the gen'ral good.See dying vegetables life sustain,See life dissolving, vegetate again;All forms that perish, other forms supply,(By turns we catch the vital breath, and die)Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne,They rise, they break, and to that sea return,Nothing is foreign—parts relate to whole;One all-extending, all-preserving soulConnects each being greatest with the least;Made beast in aid of man, and man of beast;All served, all serving; nothing stands alone;The chain holds on, and where it ends, unknown.
Ask for what end the heavenly bodies shine,Earth for whose use? Pride answers, "'Tis for mine:"For me kind nature wakes her genial pow'r,"Suckles each herb, and spreads out every flow'r;"Annual for me, the grape, the rose renew"The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew;"For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings;"For me health gushes from a thousand springs;"Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise;"My footstool earth, my canopy the skies."
But errs not nature from this gracious end,From burning suns when livid deaths descend,When earthquakes swallow, or when tempests sweepTowns to one grave, whole nations to the deep?"No," ('tis replied,) "the first Almighty CauseActs not by partial, but by general laws;Th' exceptions few; some change since all began:And what created perfect?" Why then man?If the great end be human happiness,Then nature deviates—and can man do less?As much that end a constant course requiresOf show'rs and sunshine, as of man's desires;As much eternal springs and cloudless skies,As man forever temp'rate, calm, and wise.If plagues or earthquakes break not heaven's design.Why then a Borgia, or a Cataline?Who knows but He whose hand the lightning forms,Who heaves old ocean, and who wings the storms;Pours fierce ambition in a Cæsar's mind;Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge mankind?From pride, from pride our very reas'ning springs;Account for moral as for nat'ral things:Why charge we heaven in those, in these acquit?In both, to reason right, is to submit.
Better for us, perhaps, it might appear,Were there all harmony, all virtue here;That never air or ocean felt the wind;That never passion discomposed the mind.Butallsubsists by elemental strife;And passions are the elements of life.The generalorder, since the whole began,Is kept in nature, and is kept in man.
Look round our world, behold the chain of love.Combining all below and all above;See plastic nature working to this end,The single atoms each to other tend;Attract, attracted to, the next in placeFormed and impelled its neighbor to embrace,See matter next, with various life endued,Press to one center still the gen'ral good.See dying vegetables life sustain,See life dissolving, vegetate again;All forms that perish, other forms supply,(By turns we catch the vital breath, and die)Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne,They rise, they break, and to that sea return,Nothing is foreign—parts relate to whole;One all-extending, all-preserving soulConnects each being greatest with the least;Made beast in aid of man, and man of beast;All served, all serving; nothing stands alone;The chain holds on, and where it ends, unknown.
Butpoweralone is not sufficient to produce action. There must be acauseto call it forth, to set in operation and exhibit its latent energies. It will remain hid in its secret chambers till efficient causes have set in operation themeansby which its existence is to be discovered in the production of change, effects, or results. There is, it is said, in every created thing a power sufficient to produce its own destruction, as well as to preserve its being. In the human body, for instance, there is a constant tendency to decay, to waste; which a counteracting power resists, and, with proper assistance, keeps alive.
The same may be said of vegetables which are constantly throwing off, or exhaling the waste, offensive, or useless matter, and yet a restoring power, assisted by heat, moisture, and the nourishment of the earth, resists the tendency to decay and preserves it alive and growing. The air, the earth, nay, the ocean itself, philosophers assure us, contain powers sufficient to self-destruction. But I will not enlarge here. Let the necessarycausebe exerted which will give vent to this hidden power and actions the most astonishing and destructive would be the effect. These are often witnessed in the tremendous earthquakes which devastate whole cities, states, and empires; in the tornados which pass, like the genius of evil, over the land, levelling whatever is found in its course; or in the waterspouts and maelstroms which prove the grave of all that comes within their grasp.
In the attempted destruction of the royal family and parliament of England, by what is usually called the "gunpowder plot," the arrangements were all made; two hogsheads and thirty-six barrels of powder, sufficient to blow up the house of lords and the surrounding buildings, were secreted in a vault beneath it, strown over with faggots. Guy Fawkes, a spanish officer, employed for the purpose, lay at the door, on the 5th of November, 1605, with the matches, ormeans, in his pocket, which should set in operation the prodigious dormantpower, which would hurl to destruction James I., the royal family, and the protestant parliament, give the ascendancy to the Catholics, and change the whole political condition of the nation. Theprojectwas discovered, themeanswere removed, thecausetaken away, and the threatenedeffectswere prevented.
Thecauseof action is the immediate subject which precedes or tends to produce the action, without which it would not take place. It may result from volition, inherent tendency, or communicated impulse; and is known to exist from the effects produced by it, in the altered or new condition of the thing on which it operates; which change would not have been effected without it.
Causes are to be sought for by tracing back thro the effects which are produced by them. The factory is put in operation, and the cloth is manufactured. The careless observer would enter the building and see the spindles, looms, and wheels operated by the hands, and go away satisfied that he has seen enough, seen all. But the more careful will look farther. He will trace each band and wheel, each cog and shaft, down by the balance power, to the water race and floom; or thro the complicated machinery of the steam engine to the piston, condenser, water, wood, and fire;marking a new, more secret, and yet more efficient cause at each advancing step. But all this curiously wrought machinery is not the product of chance, operated without care. A superior cause must be sought in human skill, in the deep and active ingenuity of man. Every contrivance presupposes a contriver. Hence there must have been a power and means sufficient to combine and regulate the power of the water, or generate and direct the steam. That power is vested in man; and hence, man stands as the cause, in relation to the whole process operated by wheels, bands, spindles, and looms. Yet we may say, with propriety, that the water, or the steam; the water-wheel, or the piston; the shafts, bands, cogs, pullies, spindles, springs, treddles, harnesses, reeds, shuttles, an almost endless concatenation of instruments, are alike thecauses, which tend to produce the final result; for let one of these intermediate causes be removed, and the whole power will be diverted, and all will go wrong—the effect will not be produced.
There must be afirst causeto set in operation all inferior ones in the production of action; and to thatfirstcause all action, nay, the existence of all other causes, may be traced, directly, or more distant. The intervening causes, in the consecutive order of things, may be as diversified as the links in the chain of variant beings. Yet all these causes are moved by the all-sufficient and ever present agency of the Almighty Father, theUncaused Causeof all things and beings; who spoke into existence the universe with all its various and complicated parts and orders; who set the sun, moon, and stars in the firmament, gave the earth a place, and fixed the sea a bed; throwing around them barriers over which they can never pass. From the height of his eternal throne, his eye pervades all his works; from thetall archangel, that "adores and burns," down to the very hairs of our heads, which are all numbered, his wise, benevolent, and powerful supervision may be traced in legible lines, which may be seen and read of all men. And from effects, the most diminutive in character, may be traced back, from cause to cause, upward in the ascending scale of being, to the same unrivalled Source of all power, splendor, and perfection, the presence of Him, who spake, and it was done; who commanded, and itstood still; or, as the poet has it:
"Look thro nature up to nature's God."
"Look thro nature up to nature's God."
Themeansof action are those aids which are displayed as the medium thro which existing causes are to exhibit their hidden powers in producing changes or effects. The matches in the pocket of GuyFawkeswere the direct means by which he intended to set in operation a train of causes which should terminate in the destruction of the house of lords and all its inmates. Those matches, set on fire, would convey a spark to the faggots, and thence to the powder, and means after means, and cause after cause, in the rapid succession of events, would ensue, tending to a final, inevitable, and melancholy result.
A ball shot from a cannon, receives its first impulse from the powder; but it is borne thro the air by the aid of a principle inherent in itself, which power is finally overcome by the density of the atmosphere which impedes its progress, and the law of gravitation finally attracts it to the earth. These contending principles may be known by observing the curved line in which the ball moves from the cannon's mouth to the spot where it rests. But if there is no power in theball, why does not the ball of cork discharged from the same gun with the same momentum, travel to the same distance, at the same rate? The action commences in both cases with the same projectile force, the same exteriormeansare employed, but the results are widely different. The cause of this difference must be sought for in the comparative power of each substance tocontinue its own movements.
Every boy who has played at ball has observed these principles. He throws his ball, which, if notcounteracted, will continue in a straight line,ad infinitum—without end. But the air impedes its progress, and gravitation brings it to the ground. When he throws it against a hard substance, its velocity is not only overcome, but it is sent back with great force. But if he takes a ball of wax, of snow, or any strong adhesive substance, it will not bound. How shall we account to him for this difference? He did the same with both balls. The impetus given the one was as great as the other, and the resistance of the intervening substance was as great in one case as the other; and yet, one bounds and rebounds, while the other sticks fast as a friend, to the first object it meets. The cause of this difference is to be sought for in the different capabilities of the respective balls. One possesses a strong elastic and repelling power; in the other, the attraction of cohesion is predominant.
Take another example. Let two substances of equal size and form, the one made of lead, the other of cork, be put upon the surface of a cistern of water. The external circumstances are the same, but the effects are widely different—one sinks, the other floats. We must look for the cause of this difference, not in the opposite qualities of surrounding matter, but in the things themselves. If you add to the cork another quality possessed by the lead, and giveit the same form, size, andweight, it will as readily sink to the bottom. But this last property is possessed in different degrees by the two bodies, and hence, while the one floats upon the water, the other displaces its particles and sinks to the bottom. You may take another substance; say the mountain ebony, which is heavier than water, but lighter than lead, and immerse it in the water; it will not sink with the rapidity of lead, because its inherentpoweris not so strong.
Take still another case. Let two balls, suspended on strings, be equally, or, to use the technical term,positivelyelectrified. Bring them within a certain distance, and they will repel each other. Let the electric fluid be extracted from one, and the other will attract it. Before, they were as enemies; now they embrace as friends. The magnet furnishes the most striking proof in favor of the theory we are laboring to establish. Let one of sufficient power be let down within the proper distance, it will overcome the power of gravitation, andattractthe heavy steel to itself. What is the cause of this wonderful fact? Who can account for it? Who can trace out the hidden cause; the "primum mobile" of the Ptolmaic philosophy—the secret spring of motion? But who will dare deny that such effects do exist, and that they are produced by an efficient cause? Or who will descend into the still more dark and perplexing mazes of neuter verb grammars, and deny that matter has such a power to act?
These instances will suffice to show you what we mean when we say,every thing acts according to the ability God has given it to act. I might go into a more minute examination of the properties of matter, affinity, hardness, weight, size, color, form, mobility, &c., which even old grammarswill allow it topossess; but I shall leave that work for you to perform at your leisure.
Whoever has any doubts remaining in reference to the abilities of all things toproduce,continue, orpreventmotion, will do well to consult the prince of philosophers, Sir Isaac Newton, who, after Gallileo, has treated largely upon the laws of motion. He asserts as a fact, full in illustration of the principles I am laboring to establish, that in ascending a hill, the trace rope pulls the horse back as much as he draws that forward, only the horse overcomes the resistance of the load, and moves it up the hill. On the old systems, no power would be requisite to move the load, for it could oppose no resistance to the horse; and the small child could move it with as much ease as the strong team.
Who has not an acquaintance sufficiently extensive to know these things? I can not believe there is a person present, who does not fully comprehend my meaning, and discover the correctness of the ground I have assumed. And it should be borne in mind, that no collection or arrangement of words can be composed into a sentence, which do not obtain their meaning from a connection of things as they exist and operate in the material and intellectual world, and that it is not in the power of man to frame a sentence, to think or speak, but in conformity with these general and exceptionless laws.
This important consideration meets us at every advancing step, as if to admonish us to abandon the vain project of seeking a knowledge of language without an acquaintance with the great principles on which it depends. To look for the leading rules of speech in set forms of expression, or in the capricious customs of any nation, however learned, is as futile as to attempt to gain a knowledge of the world byshutting ourselves up in a room, and looking at paintings and drawings which may be furnished by those who know as little of it as we do. How fallacious would be the attempt, how much worse than time thrown away, for the parent to shut up his child in a lonely room, and undertake to impress upon its mind a knowledge of man, beasts, birds, fish, insects, rivers, mountains, fields, flowers, houses, cities, &c., with no other aid than a few miserable pictures, unlike the reality, and in many respects contradictory to each other. And yet that would be adopting a course very similar to the one long employed as the only means of acquiring a knowledge of language; limited to a set of arbitrary, false, and contradictory rules, which the brightest geniuses could never understand, nor the most erudite employ in the expression of ideas. The grammars, it was thought, must be studied to acquire the use of language, and yet they were forgotten before such knowledge was put in practice.
A simple remark on the principles ofrelativeaction, and we will pass to the consideration ofagentsandobjects, or the more immediatecausesandeffectsof action.
We go forth at the evening hour and look upon the sunsinkingbeneath the horizon; we mark the varying hues of light as they appear, and change, and fade away. We see the shades of nightapproaching, with a gradual pace, till the beautiful landscape on which we had been gazing, the hills and the meadows; the farm house and the cultivated fields, the grove, the orchard, and the garden; the tranquil lake and the babbling brook; the dairy returning home, and the lambkins gambolling beside their dams; allrecedefrom our view, andappearto us no longer. All this isrelativeaction. But so far as language and ideas are concerned, itmatters not whether the sun actuallysinksbehind the hills, or the hills interpose between it and us; whether the landscaperecedesfrom our view, or the shades of night intercept so as to obscure our vision. The habit of thought is the same, and the form of expression must agree with it. We say the sunrisesandsets, in reference to the obvious fact, without stopping to inquire whether it really moves or not. Nor is such an inquiry at all necessary, as to matter of fact, for all we mean by such expressions, is, that by some process, immaterial to the case in hand, the sun stands in a new relation to the earth, its altitude is elevated or depressed, and hence the action is strictly relative. For we shouldrememberthatrisingandsetting,upanddown,aboveandbelow, in reference to the earth, are only relative terms.
We speak and read of thechangesof the moon, and we correctly understand each other. But in truth the moon changes no more at one time than at another. The action is purely relative. One day we observe itbeforethe sun, and the nextbehindit, as we understand these terms. The precise time of the change, when it will appear to us in a different relation to the sun, is computed by astronomers, and set down in our almanacs; but it changes no more at that time than at any other, for like every thing else, it isalways changing.
In a case we mentioned in a former lecture, "Johnlookslike orresembleshis brother,"we have an example of relative action. So in the case of two men travelling the same way, starting together, but advancing at different rates; one, we say,fallsbehind the other. In this manner of expression, we follow exactly the principles on which we started, and suit our language to our ideas and habits of thinking. By the law of optics things are reflected upon the retina of theeye inversely, that is, upside down; but they are always seen in a proper relation to each other, and if there is any thing wrong in the case, it is overcome by early habit; and so our language accords with things as they are manifested to our understandings.
These examples will serve to illustrate what we mean by relative action, when applied to natural philosophy or the construction of language.
I had intended in this lecture to have treated of the agents and objects of verbs, to prove, in accordance with the first and closest principles of philosophy, that every "causemust have aneffect," or, in other words, that every action must terminate on some object, either expressed or necessarily understood; but I am admonished that I have occupied more than my usual quota of time in this lecture already, and hence I shall leave this work for our next.
I will conclude by the relation of an anecdote or two from the life of that wonderful man, Gallileo Gallilei, who was many years professor of mathematics at Padua. Possessed of a strong, reflecting mind, he had early given his attention to the observation of things, their motions, tendencies, and power of resistance, from which he ascended, step by step, to the sublime science of astronomy. Being of an honest and frank, as well as benevolent disposition, he shunned not to state and defend theories at war with the then received opinions. All learning was, at that time, in the hands or under the supervision of the ecclesiastics, who were content to follow blindly the aristotelian philosophy, which, in many respects, was not unlike that still embraced in ourneuter verb systemsof grammar. There was a sworn hostility against all improvement, or innovation as it was called, in science as well as in theology. The copernican system,to which Gallileo was inclined, if it had not been formally condemned, had been virtually denounced as false, and its advocates heretical. Hence Gallileo never dared openly to defend it, but, piece by piece, under different names, he brought it forth, which, carried out, would establish the heretical system. Dwelling as a light in the midst of surrounding darkness, he cautiously discovered the precious truths revealed to his mind, lest the flood of light should distract and destroy the mental vision, break up the elements of society, let loose the resistless powers of ignorance, prejudice and bigotry, and envelope himself and friends in a common ruin. At length having prepared in a very guarded manner his famous "Dialogues on the Ptolmaic and Copernican Systems," he obtained permission, and ventured to publish it to the world, altho an edict had been promulgated enjoining silence on the subject, and he had been personally instructed "not to believe or teach the motion of the earth in any manner."
By the false representation of his enemies, suspicions were aroused and busily circulated prejudicial to Gallileo. Pope Urban himself, his former friend, became exasperated towards him, and a sentence against him and his books was fulminated by the Cardinals, prohibiting the "sale and vending of the latter, and condemning him to the formal prison of the Holy Office for a period determined at their pleasure." The sentence of the Inquisition was in part couched in these words—"We pronounce, judge, and declare, that you, the said Gallileo, by reason of these things, which have been detailed in the course of this investigation, and which, as above, you have confessed, have rendered yourself vehemently suspected by this Holy Office, of heresy; that is to say, that you believe and hold the false doctrine, and contrary to theHoly and Divine Scriptures, namely, that the sun is the center of the world, and that it does notmovefrom east to west, and that the earth doesmove, and is not the center of the world; also, that an opinioncan be heldandsupportedasprobable,after it has beendeclared, and finally decreed contrary to the Holy Scriptures"—by the Holy See!! "From which," they continue, "it isourpleasure that you be absolved, provided that, first, with asincereheart, andunfeigned faith, in our presence, youabjure,curse, anddetestthe said errors and heresies, and every other error and heresy contrary to the Catholic and Apostolic Church of Rome, in the form now shown to you."
After suffering under this anathema some time, Gallileo, by the advice of his friends, consented to make a public abjuration of his former heresies on the laws of motion. Kneeling before the "Most Eminent and Most Reverend Lords Cardinals, General Inquisitors of the universal Christian republic, againstheretical depravity, having before his eyes the Holy Gospels," he swears that he always "believed, and nowbelieves, and with the help of God,will in future believe, every article which the Holy Catholic Church of Rome holds, teaches, and preaches"—that he does altogether "abandon the false opinion which maintains that the 'sun is the center of the world, and that the earth isnotthe center andmovable,' that with a sincere heart and unfeigned faith, he abjures, curses, and detests the said errors and heresies, and every other error and sect contrary to the said Holy Church, and that he will never more in future, say or assert any thing verbally, or in writing, which may give rise to similar suspicion." As he arose from his knees, it is said, he whispered to a friend standing near him, "E pur si muove"—it does move, tho.
In our times we are not fated to live under the terrors of the Inquisition; but prejudice, if not as strong in power to execute, has the ability to blind as truly as in other ages, and keep us from the knowledge and adoption of practical improvements. And it is the same philosophy now, whichasksifinanimate matter can act, whichdemandedof Gallileo if this ponderous globe could fly a thousand miles in a minute, and no body feel the motion; and with Deacon Homespun, in the dialogue, "why, if this world turned upside down, the water did not spill from the mill ponds, and all the people fall headlong to the bottomless pit?"
If there are any such peripatetics in these days of light and science, who still cling to the false and degrading systems of neutrality, because they are honorable for age, or sustained by learned and good men, and who will oppose all improvement, reject without examination, or, what is still worse, refuse to adopt, after being convinced of the truth of it, any system, because it is novel, an innovation upon established forms, I can only say of them, in the language of Micanzio, the Venetian friend of Gallileo—"The efforts of such enemies to get these principles prohibited, will occasion no loss either to your reputation, or to the intelligent part of the world. As to posterity, this is just one of the surest ways to hand them down to them. But what a wretched set this must be, to whom every good thing, andall that is found in nature, necessarily appears hostile and odious."