empties itself into the Mississippi ;" but with us few writers, if any, would hesitate to say, "The Ohio empties into the Mississippi." On the other hand, many writers in England use trouble without the reflexive, e. g., "What the public may think, I do not greatly trouble to learn," whereas the usual American phrase would be "trouble myself." "He qualified himself for office by taking the oath " is the only acknowledged form in England and also among careful American writers. But the form without the reflexive is evidently gaining ground with us. He conducts, for he conducts himself, is still provincial.

The use and disuse of the reflexive pronoun is a question for English historical grammar rather than for rhetoric. It is extremely difficult and has not yet been adequately treated.

105. Foreign Words. The excessive use of foreign words is a symptom either of pedantry or of snobbishness, or at least of unfamiliarity with the resources of the mother tongue.

At one time cultivated writers and speakers in England and America were much given to quoting Latin words and phrases and trite passages from Cicero, Virgil, and Horace. The fashion has died out, but its place has been taken by the fashion of French words and expressions. Mrs. Smith prefers to be Madame S.; if she desires to give her maiden name, she is née Jones. One's betrothed is a fiancé or fiancée (if the genders are not confounded). To be present at a ceremony is to assist. A matter of course is something that goes without saying. The influenza that has troubled the world so much of late is the grippe, or still worse, la grippe. A street urchin is a gamin.

It would be easy to multiply examples: the societycolumns of the newspapers overflow with them. Occasionally we get even an Italianism, as when a noted statesman passing his vacation at his country residence is described as making his villegiatura.

Foreign words have already been naturalized by the thousand. There can be no objection to the naturalization of many more, provided the newcomers are genuine additions and do not merely supplant older and better terms. Thus it is proper to call the peculiar Australian weapon by its foreign name of boomerang, our language not having a native equivalent. The same may be said of hundreds and thousands of Anglo-Indian, Australian, or South American names of things foreign to England and North America. In the United States many Indian words have become current, e. g., succotash, wampum, sachem, totem, etc.

Furthermore, every language has certain abstract terms. which defy translation, e. g., the French esprit, the German Gemüth. A writer discussing French or German manners is permitted to use such words in moderation. But in discussing Anglo-American manners we should be able to express the thoughts back of such words by approaching the subject from the Anglo-American side. Even in writing upon foreign matters, the excessive use of foreign phraseology is a sign of the writer's poverty of expression. Authors thoroughly conversant with two countries and their literatures, like P. G. Hamerton in his essays upon life in France, have no serious difficulty in keeping the languages separate. The purity of Hamerton's English is in marked contrast with writing of this sort:

As a result, it [Conway's book on Climbing in the Himalayas] has a freshness, a pleinairiste buoyancy and atmosphere, usually conspicuous by their absence in works of the kind.

Pleinairiste may be a perfectly legitimate French adjective from plein air, "open air." But would not open-air have answered as an English equivalent? And if so, what is the difference between air and atmosphere? Doubtless the writer of the above believed that he was penning something brilliant and "incisive." In reality he would have

P

been more expressive, and also more English, had he writ ten simply:

has an open-air freshness and buoyancy.

106. In strictness, grammar is a study independent of rhetoric. But a few inaccuracies, which are on the border line, may be mentioned here.

Some sort of a, what sort of a, etc. The a is superfluous. The indefinite article points to a single object, whereas in such expressions we are trying to generalize, and should therefore say, "What sort of book have you?" etc.

Those sort of. This is still worse, yet one hears it frequently in conversation; e. g., "All those sort of things." The only grammatical phrasing is, "All that sort of thing."

They, them, their in the singular construction. The expressions they say, they do, and the like, in which they is an indefinite pronoun standing for persons in general, are perfectly grammatical and well established. But it is not correct to use they as the pronoun for anybody, somebody. A signal blunder of this sort is made by Ruskin, § 22:

What wits anybody had became available to them again.

Why did not Ruskin write him? There seems to be a reluctance in certain writers to use the singular pronoun, because it must specify gender, whereas the plural is ambiguous. But such reluctance is mere squeamishness. English and all other languages have always employed the masculine for both genders. E. g.:

Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? Are not his days also like the days of a hireling?

One, as an indefinite pronoun, equivalent to the French on, the German man, is less used in the United States than in England; e. g., "One does not often hear Wagner's music perfectly rendered." But what possessive adjective are we to use with one? And may we change from one to

another pronoun in the same sentence? In England the proper expressions are:

If one wishes to hear Wagner's music perfectly rendered, one must attend the Baireuth festival.

One should be careful in choosing one's friends.

In the United States usage is less strict; we hear and read, in such constructions, "he must attend," "his friends." The English usage is more consistent.

Cleft Infinitive. By this is meant the insertion of an adverb or modifying clause between to and the infinitive. The construction is condemned by many grammarians. and rhetoricians. Yet it is found in some of our best prose-writers; e. g., "to fairly unite" (Matthew Arnold); "to ardently desire" (Sydney Smith); "to barely rise" (Cardinal Newman); "to first take" (George Eliot).* There seems to be no valid objection to the moderate use of the cleft infinitive, especially if the adverbial expression be short and simple. But "to fashionably and carelessly look in at Tattersall's" is evidently newspaper English.

Shall, will. To discriminate properly between these expressions of futurity is at times puzzling. The root of the difficulty lies in the circumstance that neither verb had a future sense originally. Our language began without a future tense. "I shall do" meant I am under obligation to do; "I will do " meant I intend to do. And traces of these original meanings still survive in each verb. Thus, "Thou shalt not steal" means Thou art under obligation to God not to steal; "I will succeed" means that I am resolved to succeed. But in England since the sixteenth century shall, as an expression of simple futurity, has become almost restricted to the first person, and will has become the future for the second and third persons. Hence the future paradigm, "I shall go, he will go, we shall go, they will go," etc. Yet it is perfectly correct to say, “If

*See F. Hall, Nation, April 13, 1893.

you satisfy me, I will reward you handsomely." Here will expresses both futurity and purpose.

To say, "He shall go, you shall go," implies confidence on the part of the speaker that the person spoken of or addressed cannot do otherwise than go. Observe the propriety and confidence of this assertion: "You shall forgive me-I will compel it," and the absurdity of this: "I will drown, if nobody shall help me."

In America the usual error consists in using I will, we will, for I shall, we shall, where the idea is that of mere futurity. E. g.:

By starting at once we will have time enough.

If I give satisfaction to my employers, I will get an increase of salary.

I will go to Chicago next week. [Nine times out of ten the form expresses merely expectation or probability.]

Hence the direction: Learn to use I shall, we shall, and refrain from I will, we will, unless you wish to state a clearlyconceived purpose.

At one point the usage of England is inconsistent, viz. in the interrogative form: "Shall you go to town next week?” instead of "Will you." Various explanations have been attempted, but they do not explain. Americans can only accept the form as a fact hard to reconcile with the other fact that the same Englishmen say: "You will be there, will you not?"

The conditional forms should and would are not quite parallel with the indicative shall and will. As mere conditionals, I should, he would, correspond to I shall, he will, i. e., they observe the distinction between the first person and the second and third. But, in addition to this, should is used in all three persons to express an obligation or a supposition; e. g., "I should write" may either mean I ought to write, or it may be the mere conditional corresponding to I shall write, or it may be a supposition, as in these three sentences: