ceived by looking at the principal figure in Hogarth's Marriage à la Mode, and guessing how it would articulate. With the weaker part of the sex, the negligence of his manner is lost in the superior cut of his coat, and the tight lacing of his stays; women being naturally fond of coxcombs: but the impression the "dear creature" makes at first sight is seldom lasting. He is neither constant nor romantic enough for a ward in chancery, and he cannot make ⚫verses an indispensable requisite in that species of love, unless, indeed, he happen to be a collegian upon the town, and can throw something of mind into his address, and discuss the merits of a novel, or relate well a moving love-story. As to rich widows, they are generally placed beyond his reach by "tall Irishmen," who are observed to take off almost all the modern dames of Ephesus. His principal trust, however, when his family happens to be respectable, centres in the efforts of his parents to negotiate for him; balancing family, or some other contingent, against money; and thus he secures his daily bread by a church-hallowed prostitution.

Some pseudo-gentlemen, among the fortunate ones of the species, commence life in the dragoons, and finish their probationship in the church. It may be called a redeeming period in their lives, when the Christian sword of war is laid by for that of the Christian divine, and justice of the peace. They become gards de chasse to the county, flog vagrants, descant upon loyalty, browbeat the country gentlemen, shoot and hunt right apostolically, feed at public dinners, and perform other feats truly orthodox; while their numerous engagements, and the vis inertia of "bellies with good capon lined," prevent the performance of more than a weekly sermon of ten minutes, generally furnished them from Paternoster-row. They spare themselves the trouble of ever being seen "beside the bed where parting life is laid ;" and lay their ponderous frames in their churchyards at a good age, leaving a record of "deeds immortal" at the whist table, the parish vestry, or at the 'squire's, by swallowing the third bottle, like "Atlas unremoved." But there is not a tithe of a tithe among the brood of pseudo-gentlemen, who close life so reputably or so gloriously as the pseudo-gentleman priest. Much more might be written on the present subject; but I have said enough to show the necessity of avoiding any further clashing of appellations, and of establishing a useful distinction in language. I hope, finally, that every misnamed gentleman, who reads this proposal for rebaptizing him, may be duly grateful to the writer, nor feel, during the perusal, comme un petit diable au fond d'un benitier!

ON INNOVATIONS IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

Mr. EDITOR,-I have lived more than half a century, and most sincerely do I congratulate my æra and my country, that this period has perhaps done more towards the advancement of general knowledge, of improvement in the arts and sciences, and in the comforts and elegancies of life, than any former equal portion of time. It has

also been my lot to depend for my subsistence upon an occupation where change and variety have been the life and soul of success, and I have not been soured by disappointment. With these preliminaries, it cannot well be supposed that I am one of those crabbed, superannuated mortals who think every innovation a crime, every improvement an evil, or that I should, without examination, pronounce that turnpike road to be the best which has cost the parish the least labour, or the least money. No, Sir, I have seen the important changes of round-toed, spider-toed, and square-toed shoes, without a particle of disgust, because I know of no standard by which to estimate their merits, and because I felt myself at full liberty to adopt or reject them, as inclination or convenience should direct. I have also been comparatively an indifferent observer of that change in the fashionable world which assimilates so closely to the precession of the equinoxes; and which will, in time, effect its own reform, by completing its circuit: and I rejoice that upon this principle my grandchildren may rise with the votaries of pleasure and fashion at four o'clock in the morning, and breakfast at six. For I hold it to be as uncontrovertible an axiom as any in Euclid, that if the lapse of a century has gradually changed the hour of breakfast from seven in the morning to seven in the evening, another century must inevitably bring it to its former standard: my sole regret is, that my period is not at that favourable juncture. With all this equanimity, there are, however, some practices that move my spleen; and if you will spare me a page or two, I will bestow a little time in what I conceive to be some well-grounded complaints on the absurd and increasing obtrusion of foreign words, and of foreign pronunciation, into our language.

Some of the distinguishing excellencies in a language, I have always considered to be, that the uniformity of its construction should admit but of few exceptions to general rules; that its analogies should be extensive, and founded in reason; and that it should contain the capabilities of improvement in its internal structure and genius. Admit these principles, and the approach towards perfection would be gradual, but sure, and a permanence might be hoped which should bid defiance to the changes of time and caprice, and secure admiration to such a language as that of the immortal Paradise Lost, as long as the duration of the world. To trace the almost imperceptible changes that encroach upon us is difficult; they excite no alarm, because they come singly, and under the disguise of service; a few absurdities are suffered because their effects appear trivial, and unconnected with general danger;-but let the present indifference of philologists continue, or rather let their rage for bastard innovations go on, and the classic purity of Pope or Addison will, in a few centuries, be as unintelligible to general readers as the pages of Chaucer or Geoffry of Monmouth.

There is something in our nice conception of the exact shades of meaning in the words of a language, which every one feels, (and more especially if he understands more languages than one) but which it is impossible to explain. For instance, the word mœurs has by some been translated morals, and by others manners, while each

party must have been aware that his word but imperfectly expressed the idea intended; both are right, but both deficient, as the original has an intermediate meaning, or rather includes both, with all the hair's-breadth ideas associated between them. Yet still, though so expressive a word, it can never be properly Anglicised, and we ought rather to content ourselves with our deficiency, than attempt to graft so heterogeneous and crab-like a mixture upon our stock. The word ennui has lately made more rapid strides among us than its laziness would seem to countenance (and the fascinating tale which bears its name has aided the adoption); but how miserable a figure does it cut in our English uniform! Fashion prescribes that its Gallic pronunciation shall be preserved; and surely it is enough to give an Englishman the vapours to twist his jaws to the barbarous attempt at ong-wee. The trial is ridiculous, and while for our comfort we have lassitude, weariness, spleen, languor, and the blue-devils at command, I should think our vocabulary is as rich and copious as the heart of melancholy itself could desire. Some recent adoptions have highly pleased me, as according well with the standard of simplicity, and approving themselves at the same time to the judgment of the linguist in their etymology; and such words as telegraph, panorama, and kaleidoscope, will hold a deserved place in our dictionaries as long as these elegant inventions shall be known; but never can common sense or English ears be reconciled to the horrid jargon of ayd-decaung, sang-froy, bong-tong, shay-doo-ver, bong-mo, ecclaw, see-devaung, rong-de-voo, o-ture, day-nu-maung, tray, day-bu, and suchlike trash, which is likely, to delude, us to infinity. Can a mere Englishman pronounce them; or, if he could, why must he ape a knowledge above his conception? He may mangle them till he is tired, or till the feelings of his hearers are completely excruciated, but never will he fully comprehend their meaning, nor articulate them at all better than a jackdaw. Let us take one or two instances from these words, as samples for inquiry, and see if convenience, beauty, or necessity, can offer any thing in their favour. Bon-mot (good word) will, by any Frenchman, be understood as wit well expressed; but our witticism gives all the sense, and a deal more of propriety; for what would be thought of a counsellor who should offer his services to speak a bon-mot for a criminal at the bar? We have a provincialism which deserves some degree of tenderness and respect from the extent of its circulation, and for a still better reason, that it was till lately the standard pronunciation, and perhaps ought to have been so continued. No small degree of ambiguity has crept in upon us by pronouncing beat, feat, meat, &c. as beet, feet, meet, &c. It is true, that if the old sound were continued, assimilating with bait, gait, wait, &c. some confusion would still remain, but certainly not so much as would be sacrificed. One of this class still retains its primitive sound, and if great be allowed to rhyme with strait, surely treat has an equal right to the privilege. Take then your new-fangled Anglo-gallicism trait, and it will be found not a whit behind the former in absurdity; it is totally untractable, and will no more

class with English perspicuity, than a pig will class with a zebra, or Borulaski with Daniel Lambert. Pronounce it as you will, and you gain nothing but a confusion of ideas; call it tray, and it smells of the butler's pantry, of the japanner's shop; or your hearers are left to guess, if you mean your dog or a tea-board; pronounce the terminating t, and it may then become turtle-soup, lolly-pop, or any other nick-nack in epicurism. And why admit this illegitimate upstart, when our good old feature contains every tittle of the other's meaning? Feature of the face, of the mind, of the country, of a book, is as comprehensive and analogous in every respect whatever.

It is useless investigating the crowd of gallicisms that might be presented, and ninety-nine in a hundred of them would be found as useless in their application. Two or three examples may be stated to show the effort a language is capable of making to relieve itself from the harsh admixture of foreign intrusion;—the word curmudgeon must be acknowledged to be whimsical and grotesque both in appearance and sound;-no length of time or literary patronage can make it an elegant word, though it can hardly be denied to be an expressive one: and it harmonizes infinitely better with us than its original cœur-mechant (bad-heart). Lif-tenant is another crippled subject, tortured into submission, and losing what little importance he had in military gradation, by merging into unintelligible nonsense. For a post of honour to be thus turned into ridicule, may to some be a subject of regret; but in the language of the kitchen much precision ought not to be expected-and blomonge may be as easily comprehended as blanc-manger (white eating). A few words, by way of digression, may show that our transmarine neighbours can rival us in similar absurdities. They have adopted boo-lin-grin for bowling-green; and rosbif for roastbeef and if those alone who are faultless are entitled to "cast the first stone," we have no right to commence the fray.

I have given these instances as borrowed from the French, that being more generally understood than any other language, and because our literary, commercial, and (would to God I might not add) our murderous intercourse, have exposed us most to the innovations of which I complain. Many other examples might be adduced as taken from other languages, and which are countenanced by the literary world-of these (to avoid prolixity) I shall only state the ill-matched and discordant terminations from the Greek and Latin plurals. We have naturalized the useful and expressive word memorandum, and why should not the s form its plural, and thus correspond with our general rule?—But no

"He drew his bow, and shot at random,
And kill'd his wife for a memorandum."

or as our innovating pluralists would have it-
"And kill'd two men for memoranda."

Thus we have phenomena, stimuli, strata, fungi, errata, and a thousand more ready to fasten upon, as individual caprice may suggest, and with the fatality of the vampire-each one contributing his share

towards the obscurity and eventual destruction of a language which, probably, has had more varied capabilities displayed by the genius of its writers than any other which ever existed.

But whatever reasons or apologies may be given for these mongrel innovations, and as if this evil were not sufficient, the public are fostering another malady, and altering our pronunciation as fast as ignorance or levity can dictate. Singularity appears to be the predominant whim; and I fear many of our distinguished contemporaries had rather be remembered by their absurdities than sink into oblivion:

"So much they scorn the crowd, that if the throng
By chance go right, they purposely go wrong."

In the republic of literature, however, all men are equal in rights, and my little forty-shillings mental freehold secures me an equal vote with my opulent neighbour of a thousand a year. Ability will find its consequence, and command respect without any badges of distinction. If I walk the street in decent apparel, I have no occasion to insist on taking the wall of every person of inferior appearance; courtesy will give me the preference more perfectly than any laws could enforce it; and so it is in literature. Genius may recommend, but it has no right to dictate; and the authority which attempts to remove our literary land-marks, should be resisted and brought to reason by numbers. I may admire the intellectual energies of a Johnson, a Walker, a Sheridan, or an Elphinston; but should feel as little disposed to submit to their fiat, as, in a political sense, I should have been satisfied with the sway of a Cæsar or a Frederick. Let the public allow them consequence, but not arbitrary power, and scrutinize their proposed emendations with candour, but with independence.

Claiming, therefore, the liberty of protest, I shall use it against those senseless and would-be-improvements which violate established rules, sanctioned by custom, by reason, and by analogy; and I have no fear of rendering myself ridiculous or censurable by such interference. Thus I find bound, found, ground, hound, pound, round, sound, &c. all permitted to remain in unison; why must wound be singled out and modernized as an objection? If it be not a Gothic barbarity to inflict such a woond without provocation, then houghing and scalping are innocent amusements. Again we have, by common usage and consent, hour, lour, sour, flour, &c.; by what stupid perversion, then, can we suffer that pour shall be torn from his associates, and sent into the exile of a parish workhouse? We cannot spare the word poor from the language; and as it belongs to so vast a majority in the "social order," surely it is of sufficient importance to stand alone without any infringement upon its dignity. It may be urged that pour and power having been similar in sound, no extra confusion is made by the change; but to this it may be replied, that where a solitary instance of analogy is to be set in opposition to numbers, the appropriate rule should be to give the weight to quantity.

Let us now see what a Babel-jargon has been thus vauntingly introduced under the garb of authority;-what would the witlings