Part 31

"'If he Had killed me, he had done a kinder deed.'

"'For once he had been ta'en or slain, An it had not been his ministry.'--Scott.

"'If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin.'

"'Had better, rather, best, as lief, as well, etc.,' is a form that is explained under this heading. 'Had' stands for 'would have.' The exploded notion that 'had' is a corrupted 'would' must be guarded against.

"'I had as lief not be.' That is--'I would as lief have not (to) be' = 'I would as willingly (or as soon) have non-existence.'

"'Had you rather Cæsar were living----?' 'Would you rather have (would you prefer that) Cæsar were living?'

"'He had better reconsider the matter' is 'he would better have (to) reconsider the matter.'

"'I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers; I had rather hear a brazen canstick turned.'

"Let us compare this form with another that appears side by side with it in early writers. (Cp. Lat. 'habeo' and 'mihi est.')

"The construction of 'had' is thus illustrated in Chaucer, as in--Nonne Prestes Tale, 300:

"'By God, I hadde levere than my scherte, That ye hadde rad his legend, as I have.'

"Compare now:

"'Ah me were levere with lawe loose my lyf Then so to fote hem falle.'--Wright, 'Polit. S.'

"Here 'were' is unquestionably for 'would be'; and the whole expression might be given by 'had,' thus: 'Ah, I hadde levere ----,' '(to) loose' and '(to) falle,' changing from subjects of 'were' to objects of 'hadde.'

"So, in the Chaucer example above, if we substitute 'be' for 'have,' we shall get the same meaning, thus: 'By God, me were levere ----.' The interchange helps us to see more clearly that 'hadde' is to be explained as subjunctive for 'would have.'" See INDICATIVE AND SUBJUNCTIVE.

SUCH. "I have never before seen such a large ox." By a little transposing of the words of this sentence, we have, "I have never before seen an ox such large," which makes it quite clear that we should say so large an ox and not such a large ox. As proof that this error in the use of such is common, we find in Mr. George Washington Moon's "Dean's English and Bad English," the sentence, "With all due deference to such a high authority on such a very important matter." With a little transposing, this sentence is made to read, "With all due deference to an authority such high on a matter such very important." It is clear that the sentence should read, "With all due deference to so high an authority on so very important a matter." The phrases, such a handsome, such a lovely, such a long, such narrow, etc., are incorrect, and should be so handsome, so lovely, so long, and so on.

SUMMON. This verb comes in for its full share of mauling. We often hear such expressions as "I will summons him," instead of summon him; and "He was summonsed," instead of summoned.

SUPERFLUOUS WORDS. "Whenever I try to write well, I always find I can do it." "I shall have finished by the latter end of the week." "Iron sinks down in water." "He combined together all the facts." "My brother called on me, and we both took a walk." "I can do it equally as well as he." "We could not forbear from doing it." "Before I go, I must first be paid." "We were compelled to return back." "We forced them to retreat back fully a mile." "His conduct was approved of by everybody." "They conversed together for a long time." "The balloon rose up very rapidly." "Give me another one." "Come home as soon as ever you can." "Who finds him in money?" "He came in last of all." "He has got all he can carry." "What have you got?" "No matter what I have got." "I have got the headache." "Have you got any brothers?" "No, but I have got a sister." All the words in italics are superfluous.

SUPERIOR. This word is not unfrequently used for able, excellent, gifted; as, "She is a superior woman," meaning an excellent woman; "He is a superior man," meaning an able man. The expression an inferior man is not less objectionable.

SUPPOSITITIOUS. This word is properly used in the sense of put by a trick into the place or character belonging to another, spurious, counterfeit, not genuine; and improperly in the sense of conjectural, hypothetical, imaginary, presumptive; as, "This is a supposititious case," meaning an imaginary or presumptive case. "The English critic derived his materials from a stray copy of some supposititious indexes devised by one of the 'Post' reporters."--"Nation." Here is a correct use of the word.

SWOSH. There is a kind of ill-balanced brain in which the reflective and the imaginative very much outweight the perceptive. Men to whom this kind of an organization has been given generally have active minds, but their minds never present anything clearly. To their mental vision all is ill-defined, chaotic. They see everything in a haze. Whether such men talk or write, they are verbose, illogical, intangible, will-o'-the-wispish. Their thoughts are phantomlike; like shadows, they continually escape their grasp. In their talk they will, after long dissertations, tell you that they have not said just what they would like to say; there is always a subtle, lurking something still unexpressed, which something is the real essence of the matter, and which your penetration is expected to divine. In their writings they are eccentric, vague, labyrinthine, pretentious, transcendental, and frequently ungrammatical. These men, if write they must, should confine themselves to the descriptive; for when they enter the essayist's domain, which they are very prone to do, they write what I will venture to call swosh.

We find examples in plenty of this kind of writing in the essays of Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson. Indeed, the impartial critic who will take the trouble to examine any of Mr. Emerson's essays at all carefully, is quite sure to come to the conclusion that Mr. Emerson has seen everything he has ever made the subject of his essays very much as London is seen from the top of Saint Paul's in a fog.

Mr. Emerson's definition of Nature runs thus: "Philosophically considered, the universe is composed of Nature and the Soul. Strictly speaking, therefore, all that is separate from us, all which philosophy distinguishes from the Not Me--that is, both Nature and Art, and all other men, and my own body--must be ranked under this name 'NATURE.' In enumerating the values of Nature and casting up their sum, I shall use the word in both senses--in its common and in its philosophical import. In inquiries so general as our present one, the inaccuracy is not material; no confusion of thought will occur. Nature, in the common sense, refers to essences unchanged by man: space, the air, the river, the leaf. Art is applied to the mixture of his will with the same things, as in a house, a canal, a picture, a statue. But his operations, taken together, are so insignificant--a little chipping, baking, patching, and washing--that in an impression so grand as that of the world on the human mind they do not vary the result."

In "Letters and Social Aims" Mr. Emerson writes: "Eloquence is the power to translate a truth into language perfectly intelligible to the person to whom you speak. He who would convince the worthy Mr. Dunderhead of any truth which Dunderhead does not see, must be a master of his art. Declamation is common; but such possession of thought as is here required, such practical chemistry as the conversion of a truth written in God's language into a truth in Dunderhead's language, is one of the most beautiful and cogent weapons that is forged in the shop of the Divine Artificer."

The first paragraph of Mr. Emerson's "Essay on Art" reads: "All departments of life at the present day--Trade, Politics, Letters, Science, or Religion--seem to feel, and to labor to express, the identity of their law. They are rays of one sun; they translate each into a new language the sense of the other. They are sublime when seen as emanations of a Necessity contradistinguished from the vulgar Fate by being instant and alive, and dissolving man, as well as his works, in its flowing beneficence. This influence is conspicuously visible in the principles and history of Art."

Another paragraph from Mr. Emerson's "Essay on Eloquence": "The orator, as we have seen, must be a substantial personality. Then, first, he must have power of statement--must have the fact, and know how to tell it. In a knot of men conversing on any subject, the person who knows most about it will have the ear of the company, if he wishes it, and lead the conversation, no matter what genius or distinction other men there present may have; and, in any public assembly, him who has the facts, and can and will state them, people will listen to, though he is otherwise ignorant, though he is hoarse and ungrateful, though he stutters and screams."

Mr. Emerson, in his "Essay on Prudence," writes: "There are all degrees of proficiency in knowledge of the world. It is sufficient to our present purpose to indicate three. One class live to the utility of the symbol, esteeming health and wealth a final good. Another class live above this mark to the beauty of the symbol, as the poet and artist, and the naturalist and man of science. A third class live above the beauty of the symbol to the beauty of the thing signified; these are wise men. The first class have common sense; the second, taste; and the third, spiritual perception. Once in a long time a man traverses the whole scale, and sees and enjoys the symbol solidly; then, also, has a clear eye for its beauty; and, lastly, whilst he pitches his tent on this sacred volcanic isle of nature, does not offer to build houses and barns thereon, reverencing the splendor of God which he sees bursting through each chink and cranny."

Those who are wont to accept others at their self-assessment and to see things through other people's eyes--and there are many such--are in danger of thinking this kind of writing very fine, when in fact it is not only the veriest swosh, but that kind of swosh that excites at least an occasional doubt with regard to the writer's sanity. We can make no greater mistake than to suppose that the reason we do not understand these rhetorical contortionists is because they are so subtle and profound. We understand them quite as well as they understand themselves. At their very best, they are but incoherent diluters of other men's ideas. They have but one thing to recommend them--honesty. They believe in themselves.