But if it be considered strange for Horne Tooke to have affirmed, that verbs, as well as the other parts of speech, are nouns, and that a verb is something more than a noun; and that the title of verb was given to it on account of that distinguishing something more than mere nouns convey,-it seems, to me, at least, equally strange that writers, who cannot be suspected for one moment of being sceptical in their opinions, should have broached theories in order to prove, that the verb, and not the noun, is the primitive or root of all the other parts of speech. It is perfectly unnecessary to enumerate the names of these writers, or to enter minutely into their arguments merely for the sake of confuting them. One of the objects of this Treatise will be secured, by stating my own reasons for believing, that the noun, and not the verb, is the original or primitive root, whence every -other part of speech is derived.

For this purpose, and to form an adequate notion of language, and its rise and progress to the grammatical structure of a sentence, it seems requisite to contemplate the nature of man in particular situations; first in his infancy, and secondly in some selected instance of his state in riper years.

Faculties and powers of the inferior animals-those of mankind-the progressive state of man-the perceptive faculty of an infant, and that of other animals-their ends essentially different-instinct and intellect-instinctive signs not analogous to language.

THE finger of nature operates on the senses of infants, in common with all animal bodies, by painful or plea

an unpublished volume of "Eжɛa ПITEρóεvтa, or " Diversions of Purley," perished in the flames.

surable sensations: and every animal capable of expressing sound, makes known the degree of his sensation by appropriate signs of consonance or dissonance. But the Creator has limited the faculties and powers of the inferior animals: he has attached to them peculiar instincts, by which they are enabled to execute, with exactness and precision, every work allotted to their natures; and a very short period perfects the end of their existence. The state of man is far different; destined for nobler purposes, his form and habits are progressive. Many of the instinctive powers common to other animals, are designedly withheld from him, and the free exercise of those which are intellectual is substituted in their stead. A larger portion of time is, therefore, requisite for the developement of the faculties of man. On his entrance into the world, he is more helpless than other animals: and tears and cries demonstrate both the imbecility of his nature, and the acuteness of his animal feeling. His first sensation is that of pain: but no sooner is he relieved, than he sinks almost into a state of apathy. At this period his being may be called mere animal life: his intellectual existence is but in embryo. Thus almost insensible, and altogether helpless, does he recline, till disease, corporal pain, or the sensations of hunger, again call him to action; when the fond caresses of a watchful parent yield to him nurture and support. If pain be the first sensation of an infant, it is equally true, that the incessant care of a mother will soon create in it even another feeling. While the child is hanging at her breast, ask the mother what her feelings are, what the sensations of her babe--she will tell you they are those of pleasure and delight. The sympathetic glow of nature reverberates from each content and pleasure: and while the

infant sinks to slumber and repose, the mother breathes her joy, and sings forth hymns of praise.

-The remarks of Bishop Butler conduce much to the purpose of this discussion, and are deeply philosophical. "Nature,” says this learned prelate, "does in no wise qualify us wholly, much less at once, for a mature state of life. Even maturity of understanding and bodily strength, are not only arrived to gradually, but are also very much owing to the continued exercise of our powers of body and mind from infancy. But if we sup→ pose a person brought into the world with both these in maturity, as far as this is conceivable, he would plainly at first be as unqualified for the human life of mature age as an ideot. He would be in a manner distracted with astonishment, and apprehension, and curiosity, and suspense; nor can one guess how long it would be before he would be familiarised to himself and the objects about him enough, even to set himself to any thing. It may be questioned too, whether the natural information of his sight and hearing, would be of any manner of use at all to him in acting, before experience. And it seems, that men would be strangely headstrong and self-willed, and disposed to exert themselves with an impetuosity, which would render society insupportable, and the living in it unpracticable, were it not for some acquired moderation and self-government, some aptitude and readiness in restraining themselves, and concealing their sense of things. Want of every thing of this kind which is learnt, would render a man as uncapable of society, as want of language would: or as his natural ignorance of any of the particular employments of life, would render him uncapable of providing himself with the common conveniences, or supplying the necessary wants of it. In these

respects, and probably in many more, of which we have no particular notion, mankind is left by nature an unformed, unfinished creature; utterly deficient and unqualified, before the acquirement of knowledge, experience, and habits, for that mature state of life which was the end of his creation, considering him as only related to this world."*

It is very certain that according to the accounts of nurses, and those concerned in the management of children, an infant does not, as it is termed, "begin to take notice," until after the age of four or five weeks; and the first objects which he perceives are his own hands. From that period, provided the infant continue in health, the mental faculties of perceiving, thinking, reasoning, knowing, and every other faculty connected with the powers of reflexion, are uniformly progressive. The first of these faculties, viz. perception, upon which the other faculties depend, seems, therefore, to remain for a considerable time in a state of quiescence. This is an interesting circumstance, and appears to be, in some degree, connected with the philosophy of speech. The senses are the great originals of all our simple ideas of external objects; and by these the faculties of reflexion are influenced and exerted. By what means body and soul are united, and how, through the medium of the outward organs of sense, the mind receives its impressions, are questions too delicate and abstruse to be comprehended and answered by man. His nature, however prominent in ability, feels itself incompetent to the task; it hesitates, and presently shrinks beneath the inquiry: "better to bless the sun than reason how it shines."+ The material

* Bishop Butler's Analogy, part 1, chap. 5, sec. 3.

+ Ford.

and immaterial parts of man, however, are admirably fitted to act occasionally in unison; and in various situations of his being, they are so constructed as to be very much influenced by each other. These are truths selfevident in nature, and they give to science and philosophy an antecedent proposition, by which one may be enabled to reason on the probable cause of the quiescent state of the mind of an infant; and from which the sound philologist may be enabled to draw a reasonable hypothesis concerning the original part of speech, and the philosophy of language. At this early period of their being, the difference between the state of man and that of the inferior creature, is very striking. The perceptive faculty of our species does not manifest itself near so soon as the perceptive faculty of other animals; but the developement of this one faculty in the infant, evinces to my mind, the boundaries of instinct, and reveals the first dawn of intellect and reason. The immediate and peculiar cares of the dam for her offspring are very soon dismissed, and are at an end. The young is soon enabled to protect and help himself; he feels no actual want, but that which is absolutely requisite for the duration or continuance of himself and species. It is true he sees surrounding objects and is pleased; he plays and frisks before them: but these are altogether distinct from his necessities; they are not in any degree essential to his real happiness. Take away the object of his play and gambol, is he irreconcilable? No:-however suddenly removed, he neither laments, bemoans, nor does he betray the least uneasiness of sensation. The perceptive faculty of the infant leads to a very different end: after a certain period, he begins to notice certain casual objects; at their approach he feels delight; he soon se