Chapter II · SYNTAX (continued 2)

‘To you that’, or ‘you to whom’.

It is not taste that is plentiful, but courage that is rare.—Stevenson.

Again a common blunder; not, however, a confusion between the two constructions above, but between one of them (the relative) and a third. The sentence explains why every one seems to prefer Shakespeare to Ouida (they are afraid to say that they like Ouida best). ‘What is the explanation of this?’ ‘It is not the plentifulness of taste, but the rarity of courage, that explains it.’ Or, less clumsily, using the construction that Stevenson doubtless intended: ‘It (the inference to be drawn) is not that taste is plentiful, but that courage is rare.’

Participle and Gerund

It is advisable to make a few remarks on the participle and gerund together before taking them separately. As the word gerund is variously used, we first define it. A gerund is the verbal noun identical in form with any participle, simple or compound, that contains the termination -ing. Thus the verb write has the active participles writing, having written, being about to write, about to write, and the passive participles written, having been written, being written, about to be written, being about to be written. Any of these except written, about to write, about to be written, may be a gerund also; but while the participle is an adjective, the gerund is a noun, differing from other nouns in retaining its power (if the active gerund of a transitive verb) of directly governing another noun.

Both these are of great importance for our purpose. The participle itself, even when confusion with the other cannot occur, is much abused; and the slovenly uses of it that were good enough in Burke’s time are now recognized solecisms. Again, the identity between the two forms leads to loose and unaccountable gerund constructions that will probably be swept away, as so many other laxities have been, with the advance of grammatical consciousness. We shall have to deal with both these points at some length.

It is indeed no wonder that the forms in -ing should require close attention. Exactly how many old English terminations -ing is heir to is a question debated by historical grammarians, which we are not competent to answer. But we may point out that writing may now be (1) participle—I was writing; I saw him writing; writing piously, he acts profanely—, (2) gerund or full verbal noun—I object to your writing that—, (3) hybrid between gerund and participle—I do not mind you writing it—, (4) detached verbal noun—Writing is an acquired art—, (5) concrete noun—This writing is illegible. Moreover, the verbal noun writing has the synonym to write, obligatory instead of it in some connexions, better in some, worse in some, and impossible in others; compare, for instance: I do not like the trouble of writing; I shall not take the trouble to write; the trouble of writing is too much for him; it is a trouble to write; writing is a trouble. The grammatical difficulties, that is, are complicated by considerations of idiom.

In these preliminary remarks, however, it is only with the distinction or want of distinction between participle and gerund that we are concerned. The participle is an adjective, and should be in agreement with a noun or pronoun; the gerund is a noun, of which it should be possible to say clearly whether, and why, it is in the subjective, objective, or possessive case, as we can of other nouns. That the distinction is often obscured, partly in consequence of the history of the language, will be clear from one or two facts and examples.

1. The man is building contains what we should all now call, whether it is so or not historically, a participle or verbal adjective: the house is building (older but still living and correct English for the house is being built) contains, as its remarkable difference of meaning prepares us to believe, a gerund or verbal noun, once governed by a now lost preposition.

2. In He stopped, laughing we have a participle; in He stopped laughing, a verbal noun governed directly by the verb; in He burst out laughing, a verbal noun governed by a vanished preposition.

3. Present usage does not bear out the definite modern ideas of the distinction between participle and gerund as respectively adjective and noun. So long as that usage continues, there are various degrees of ambiguity, illustrated by the three following examples. It would be impossible to say, whatever the context, whether the writer of the first intended a gerund or a participle. In the second, a previous sentence would probably have decided the question. In the third, though grammar (again as modified by present usage) leaves the question open, the meaning of the sentence is practically decisive by itself.

Can he conceive Matthew Arnold permitting such a book to be written and published about himself?—Times.

And no doubt that end will be secured by the Commission sitting in Paris.—Times.

Those who know least of them [the virtues] know very well how much they are concerned in other people having them.—Morley.

In the second of these, if sitting is a participle, the meaning is that the end will be secured by the Commission, which is described by way of identification as the one sitting in Paris. If sitting is gerund, the end will be secured by the wise choice of Paris and not another place for its scene. If Commission’s were written, there could be no doubt the latter was the meaning. With Commission, there is, by present usage, absolutely no means of deciding between the two meanings apart from possible light in the context. In the third, common sense is able to tell us, though grammar gives the question up, that what is interesting is not the other people who have them, but the question whether other people have them.

We shall, in the section on the gerund, take up the decided position that all gerunds ought to be made distinguishable from participles. We are quite aware, however, that in the first place a language does not remodel itself to suit the grammarian’s fancy for neat classification; that secondly the confusion is not merely wanton or ignorant, but the result of natural development; that thirdly the change involves some inconveniences, especially to hurried and careless writers. On the other hand it is certain that the permanent tendency in language is towards the correct and logical, not from it; it is merely hoped that the considerable number of instances here collected may attract the attention of some writers who have not been aware of the question, and perhaps convince them that the distinction is a useful one, that a writer ought to know and let us know whether he is using a participle or a gerund, and that to abandon the gerund when it cannot be distinguished without clumsiness need cause no difficulty to any but the very unskilful in handling words.

Participles

The unattached or wrongly attached participle is one of the blunders most common with illiterate or careless writers. But there are degrees of heinousness in the offence; our examples are arranged from 1. to 8. in these degrees, starting with perfect innocence.

1. Participles that have passed into prepositions, conjunctions, or members of adverbial phrases.

Considering the circumstances, you may go.

Seeing that it was involuntary, he can hardly be blamed.

Roughly speaking, all men are liars.

Looking at it in a shortened perspective of time, those years of transition have the quality of a single consecutive occurrence.—H. G. Wells.

The Bill ... will bring about, assuming that it meets with good fortune in the remaining stages of its passage through Parliament, a very useful reform.—Times.

Regarded as participles, these are incorrect. It is not you that consider, but I; not he that sees, but we; not men that roughly speak, but the moralist; not years that look, but philosophic historians; not the Bill that assumes, but the newspaper prophet. The development into prepositions, &c., is a natural one, however; the only question about any particular word of the kind is whether the vox populi has yet declared for it; when it has, there is no more to be said; but when it has not, the process should be resisted as long as possible, writers acting as a suspensive House of Lords; an instance will be found in 4.

Three quotations from Burke will show that he, like others of his time, felt himself more at liberty than most good writers would now feel themselves.

Founding the appeal on this basis, it was judged proper to lay before Parliament....—Burke.

Flattering themselves that their power is become necessary to the support of all order and government, everything which tends to the support of that power is sanctified.—Burke.

Having considered terror as producing an unnatural tension and certain violent emotions of the nerves; it easily follows.—Burke.

Similar constructions may be found on almost every page of Smollett.

2. Participles half justified by attachment to a pronoun implied in my, your, his, their. These are perhaps better avoided.

Having thus run through the causes of the sublime with reference to all the senses, my first observation will be found very nearly true.—Burke.

Being much interested in the correspondence bearing on the question ‘Do we believe?’, the first difficulty arising in my mind is....—Daily Telegraph.

My farm consisted of about twenty acres of excellent land, having given a hundred pounds for my predecessor’s good will.—Goldsmith.

3. Mere unattached participles for which nothing can be said, except that they are sometimes inoffensive if the word to be supplied is very vague.

Doubling the point, and running along the southern shore of the little peninsula, the scene changes.—F. M. Crawford.

The most trying ... period was this one of enforced idleness waiting for the day of entry.—Times.

Having acquired so many tropical colonies there is the undoubted duty attached to such possession of....—Times.

4. Participles that may some day become prepositions, &c.

Sir—Referring to your correspondent’s (the Bishop of Croydon’s) letter in to-day’s issue, he quotes at the close of it the following passage.—Daily Telegraph.

He must be the Bishop; for the immediately preceding Sir, marking the beginning of the letter, shows that no one else has been mentioned; but if we had given the sentence without this indication, no one could possibly have believed that this was so; referring is not yet unparticipled.

5. An unwary writer sometimes attaches a participle to the subject of a previous sentence, assuming that it will be the subject of the new sentence also, and then finds (or rather is not awake enough to find) himself mistaken. This is a trap into which good writers sometimes fall, and so dangerous to bad writers that we shall give many examples. It is important for the tiro to realize that he has not satisfied the elementary requirements of grammar until he has attached the participle to a noun in the same sentence as itself, not in another. He must also remember that, for instance, I went and he came, though often spoken of loosely as a sentence, is in fact as fully two sentences as if each half of it were ten lines long, and the two were parted by a full stop and not connected by a conjunction.

They had now reached the airy dwelling where Mrs. Macshake resided, and having rung, the door was at length most deliberately opened.—S. Ferrier.

The lovers sought a shelter, and, mutually charmed with each other, time flew for a while on downy pinions.—S. Ferrier.

A molecular change is propagated to the muscles by which the body is retracted, and causing them to contract, the act of retraction is brought about.—Huxley.

Joseph, as they supposed, by tampering with Will, got all my secrets, and was acquainted with all my motions—; and having also undertaken to watch all those of his young lady, the wise family were secure.—Richardson.

Miss Pinkerton ... in vain ... tried to overawe her. Attempting once to scold her in public, Rebecca hit upon the ... plan of answering her in French, which quite routed the old woman.—Thackeray.

But he thought it derogatory to a brave knight passively to await the assault, and ordering his own men to charge, the hostile squadrons, rapidly advancing against each other, met midway on the plain.—Prescott.

Alvarado, roused by the noise of the attack on this quarter, hastened to the support of his officer, when Almagro, seizing the occasion, pushed across the bridge, dispersed the small body left to defend it, and, falling on Alvarado’s rear, that general saw himself hemmed in on all sides.—Prescott.

Murtagh, without a word of reply, went to the door, and shouting into the passage something in Irish, the room was instantly filled with bog-trotters.—Borrow.

But, as before, Anne once more made me smart, and having equipped herself in a gown and bonnet of mine—not of the newest—off we set.—Crockett.

At this I was silent for a little, and then I resolved to speak plainly to Anne. But not being ready with my words, she got in first.—Crockett.

For many years I had to contend with much opposition in the nature of scepticism; but having had hundreds of successful cases and proofs it has become such an established fact in the eastern counties that many landowners, &c., would not think of sinking a well without first seeking the aid of a water diviner.—Times.

6. A more obvious trap, and consequently less fatal, is a change from the active construction that may have been intended to a passive, without corresponding alterations. If the writers of the next two had used we must admit instead of it must be admitted, a policy that they put forward, instead of a policy put forward, the participles hesitating and believing would have had owners.

While hesitating to accept this terrible indictment of French infancy, it must be admitted that French literature in all its strength and wealth is a grown-up literature.—Spectator.

He and those with whom he acted were responsible for the policy promulgated—a policy put forward in all seriousness and honesty believing it to be essential to the obtaining of the better government of Ireland.—Times.

7. Participles that seem to belong to a noun, but do not.

Letters on the constant stopping of omnibuses, thus causing considerable suffering to the horses.

Does causing agree with letters? Then the letters annoy the horses. With stopping? Then stopping causes suffering by stopping (thus). With omnibuses? The horses possibly blame those innocents, but we can hardly suppose a human being, even the writer of the sentence, so illogical. The word thus, however, is often considered to have a kind of dispensing power, freeing its participle from all obligations; so:

The Prince was, by the special command of his Majesty the Emperor, made the guardian of H.I.H. the Crown Prince, thus necessitating the Prince’s constant presence in the capital of Japan.—Times.

A very wealthy man can never be sure even of friendship,—while the highest, strongest and noblest kind of love is nearly always denied to him, in this way carrying out the fulfilment of those strange but true words:—‘How hardly shall he that is a rich man enter the Kingdom of Heaven!’—Corelli.

It is not love that carries out, but the power that denies love, which is not mentioned.

8. Really bad unattached or wrongly attached participles. The reader will generally find no difficulty in seeing what has led to the blunder, and if he will take the trouble to do this, will be less likely to make similar blunders himself.

And then stooping to take up the key to let myself into the garden, he started and looked as if he heard somebody near the door.—Richardson.

Sir—With reference to this question ‘Do we believe?’, while recognizing the vastness of the subject, its modern aspect has some definite features.—Daily Telegraph.

Taken in conjunction with the splendid white and brown trout-fishing of the Rosses lakes and rivers, anglers have now the opportunity of fishing one of the best, if not the best, fishery to be obtained in Ireland.—Advt.

Sir—Having read with much interest the letters re ‘Believe only’ now appearing in the Daily Telegraph, perhaps some of your readers might be interested to know the following texts which have led some great men to ‘believe only’.—Daily Telegraph.

Being pushed unceremoniously to one side—which was precisely what I wished—he usurped my place.—C. Brontë.

The higher forms of speech acquire a secondary strength from association. Having, in actual life, habitually heard them in connexion with mental impressions, and having been accustomed to meet with them in the most powerful writing, they come to have in themselves a species of force.—Spencer.

Standing over one of the sluices of the Aswan dam last January, not only was the vibration evident to the senses....—Times.

The following passage may be commended for use in examination papers. ‘Always beloved by the Imperial couple who are to-day the Sovereign lord and lady of Great Britain, their Majesties have, on many occasions since the Devonshire houses rejoiced in a mistress once more, honoured them by visits extending over some days.’—Times.

The last, as the Times reviewer has noticed, will repay analysis in several ways.

9. The absolute construction is not much to be recommended, having generally an alien air in English; but it is sometimes useful. It must be observed, first, that the case used should now invariably be the subjective, though it was otherwise in old English. Secondly, it is very seldom advisable to make an absolute construction and insert a pronoun for the purpose when the participle might simply be attached in ordinary agreement to a noun already to hand. Thirdly, it is very bad to use the construction, but omit to give the participle a noun or pronoun to itself. These three transgressions will be illustrated, in the same order, by the next three examples. But many of the wrong sentences in 5 above may be regarded as absolute constructions with the subject omitted.

I, with whom that Impulse was the most intractable, the most capricious, the most maddening of masters (him before me always excepted)....—C. Brontë.

‘Special’ is a much overworked word, it being loosely used to mean great in degree, also peculiar in kind.—R. G. White.

This is said now because, having been said before, I have been judged as if I had made the pretensions which were then and which are now again disclaimed.—R. G. White.

The Gerund

There are three questions to be considered: whether a writer ought to let us know that he is using a gerund and not a participle; when a gerund may be used without its subject’s being expressed; when a gerund with preposition is to be preferred to the infinitive.

1. Is the gerund to be made recognizable? And, in the circumstances that make it possible, that is, when its subject is expressed, is this to be done sometimes, or always?

It is done by putting what we call for shortness’ sake the subject of the gerund (i. e., the word me or my in me doing or my doing) in the possessive instead of in the objective or subjective case.

Take the typical sentence: I dislike my best friend(’s) violating my privacy. It cannot be a true account of the matter to say that friend is the object of I dislike, and has a participle violating attached to it. For (a) we can substitute resent, which never takes a personal object, for dislike, without changing the sense. (b) If we substitute a passive construction, also without changing the sense, we find that dislike has quite a different object—privacy.—I dislike my privacy being violated by my friend. (c) Many of us would be willing to adopt the sentiment conveyed who yet would not admit for a moment that they disliked their best friend even when he intruded; they condemn the sin, but not the sinner.

Violating then is not an ordinary participle. It does not follow yet that it is a gerund. It may be an extraordinary participle, fused into one notion with the noun, so that a friend violating means the-violation-by-a-friend. The Latin scholar here at once puts in the idiom of occisus Caesar, which does not generally mean Caesar after he was killed, as it naturally should, but the killing of Caesar, or the fact that Caesar had been killed. The parallel is close (though the use is practically confined to the passive in Latin), and familiar to all who know any Latin at all. But it shows not so much what the English construction is as how educated people have been able to reconcile themselves to an ambiguous and not very reasonable idiom—not very reasonable, that is, after language has thrown off its early limitations, and got over the first difficulty of accomplishing abstract expression of any kind. The sort of fusion assumed is further illustrated for the Latinist, though not so closely, by the Latin accusative and infinitive. This theory then takes violating for a participle fused into one notion with friend. There are two difficulties.

I. The construction in English is, though in the nature of things not as common, yet as easy in the passive as in the active. Now the passive of violating is either violated or being violated. It is quite natural to say, Privacy violated once is no longer inviolable. Why then should it be most unnatural to say, The worst of privacy violated once is that it is no longer inviolable? No one, not purposely seeking the unusual for some reason or other, would omit being before violated in the second. Yet as participles violated and being violated are equally good—not indeed always, but in this context, as the simpler Privacy sentence shows. The only difference between the two participles (except that in brevity, which tells against being violated) is that the longer form can also be the gerund, and the shorter cannot. The almost invariable choice of it is due to the instinctive feeling that what we are using is or ought to be the gerund. A more convincing instance than this mere adaptation of our original example may be added:

Many years ago I became impressed with the necessity for our infantry being taught and practised in the skilful use of their rifle.—Lord Roberts.

The necessity for our infantry taught and practised is absolutely impossible. But why, if being taught is participle, and not gerund?

II. Assuming that the fused-participle theory is satisfactory and recognized, whence comes the general, though not universal impression among those who, without being well versed in grammar, are habitually careful how they speak and write, that constructions like the following are ignorant vulgarisms?—It is no use he (his) doing it; it is no use him (his) doing it; that need not prevent us (our) believing; excuse me (my) interrupting you; a thing (thing’s) existing does not prove that it ought to exist; I was annoyed by Tom (Tom’s) hesitating; the Tsar (Tsar’s) leaving Russia is significant; it failed through the King (King’s) refusing his signature; without us (our) hearing the man, the facts cannot be got at; without the man (man’s) telling us himself, we can never know. With a single exception for one (not both) of the first two, none of these ought to cause a moment’s uneasiness to any one who was consciously or unconsciously in the fused-participle frame of mind; and if they do cause uneasiness it shows that that frame of mind is not effectively present.

The Fused-Participle Theory, having no sufficient answer to these objections, but seeing that the gerund’s case is also weak, naturally tries a counter-attack:—If on the other hand the gerund theory is satisfactory and recognized, how is it conceivable that people should leave out the possessive ’s in the reckless way they do? To which, however, the Gerund makes reply:—I regret that they do leave it out, but at least we can see how they come to; it is the combined result of a mistake and an inconvenience. The mistake is caused by certain types of sentence in which a real, not a fused participle is so used that the noun and its (unfused) participle give a sense hardly distinguishable from a possessive noun and a gerund. Examples are:

This plan has now been abandoned owing to circumstances requiring the convocation of representatives of the people at the earliest possible moment.—Times.

... by imposing as great difficulty as possible on parents and publicans using child messengers.—Times.

Of course no obstacles should be put in the way of charitable people providing free or other meals if they think fit.—Times.

The notion of the Czar being addressed in such terms by the nobility of his capital would have been regarded as an absolute impossibility.—Spectator.

There is of course a difference. For instance, in the example about the Czar, as in a previous one about conceiving Matthew Arnold permitting, the participle has a pictorial effect; it invites us to imagine the physical appearance of these two great men under indignity instead of merely thinking of the abstract indignity, as we should have done if Czar’s and Arnold’s had shown that we had a gerund; but the difference is very fine; the possessive sign might be inserted without practical effect in all these four, and in hundreds like them. And unlearned people may be excused for deducing that the subject of the gerund can be used at pleasure without the possessive sign, while the learned comfort themselves with the fused-participle theory. That is the mistake. The inconvenience is this: it is easy enough to use the possessive adjectives (my, &c.), and to add the possessive sign to most names and many single nouns; but the subject of a gerund is often a long phrase, after which the sign is intolerable. So the mistake (that the gerund may have a subject not marked by the possessive) is eagerly applied to obviating the inconvenience (that long gerund subjects must be avoided). And that is why people drop their possessive ’s, and why you, the Fused Participle, flourish, defrauding both me, the Gerund, and the honest participle. Thus answered, the Fused Participle does not continue the argument, but pleads only that there is room for all three forms.

Before giving some examples to help in the decision, we shall summarize our own opinion. (1) It is not a matter to be decided by appeal to historical grammar. All three constructions may have separate legitimate descents, and yet in the interests of clear thought and expression it may be better for one of them to be abandoned. (2) There are two opposite tendencies at present: among careful writers, to avoid the fused participle (this, being negative, can naturally not be illustrated) and to put possessive signs in slightly uncomfortable places by way of compensation; among slovenly writers, to throw off all limits of length for the subject of the fused participle. (3) Long fused-participle phrases are a variety of abstract expression, and as such to be deprecated. Among the resources of civilization is the power of choosing between different ways of saying the same thing; and literary skill is very much a matter of exercising that power; a writer should recognize that if he cannot get round an ugly fused participle there is still much for him to learn. (4) Opportunities for ambiguity are so abundant in English, owing to the number of words whose parsing depends on context, that all aids to precision are valuable; and it is not too much to expect a writer to know and let us know whether he means a participle or a gerund.

a. That the possessive of all pronouns that have the form should be used instead of the objective or subjective is hardly disputed. Correct accordingly:

You may rely upon me doing all in my power.—Sir W. Harcourt.

The confounded fetterlock clapped on my movements by old Griffiths prevents me repairing to England in person.—Scott.

But when it comes to us following his life and example....—Daily Telegraph.

Nothing can prevent it being the main issue at the General Election.—Spectator.

One of them, if you will pardon me reminding you, is that no discussion is to pass between us.—E. F. Benson.

Frederick had already accepted the crown, lest James should object to him doing so.—Times.

... notwithstanding the fact that their suspicions of ease-loving, ear-tickling parsons prevent them supporting the commercial churches of our time.—Daily Telegraph.

b. Examples in which the possessive of nouns might be written without a qualm.

Nearly a week passed over without Mr. Fairford hearing a word directly from his son.—Scott.

Mrs. Downe Wright had not forgiven the indignity of her son having been refused by Mary.—S. Ferrier.

In no other religion is there a thought of man being saved by grace and not by merit.—Daily Telegraph.

And it is said that, on a visitor once asking to see his library, Descartes led him....—Huxley.

It is true that one of our objects was to prevent[10] children ‘sipping’ the liquor they were sent for.—Times.

Orders were sometimes issued to prohibit[1a] soldiers buying and eating cucumbers.—Times.

Renewed efforts at a settlement in 1891 failed through the Swedish Government leading off with a flippant and offensive suggestion.—Nansen.

Hurried reading results in the learner forgetting half of what he reads, or in his forming vague conceptions.—Sweet.

c. All the last set involved what were either actual or virtual names of persons; there is more difficulty with abstract nouns, compound subjects, and words of which the possessive is ugly. Those that may perhaps bear the possessive mark will be put first, and alterations suggested for the others.

We look forward to much attention being given.—Times.

He affirmed that such increases were the rule in that city on the change being made.—Times.

I live in hopes of this discussion resulting in some modification in our form of belief.—Daily Telegraph. (that this discussion may result)

The real objection to the possessive here is merely the addition to the crowd of sibilants.

In the event of the passage being found, he will esteem it a favour ... (if the passage is found)

Conceive my vexation at being told by Papa this morning that he had not the least objection to Edward and me marrying whenever we pleased.—S. Ferrier. (our)

Or, if the names are essential, did not in the least mind how soon Edward and I married.

It has been replied to the absurd taunt about the French inventing nothing, that at least Descartes invented German philosophy.—Morley. (Frenchmen’s)

d. A modern construction called the compound possessive was mentioned at the end of the section on Cases. It is sometimes ugly, sometimes inoffensive; that is a matter of degree and of knowing where to draw the line; there is no objection to it in principle. And the application of it will sometimes help out a gerund. The first quotation gives a compound possessive simply; the second, a gerund construction to which it ought to be applicable; the third and fourth, two to which it can be applied; and the last, one to which it cannot.

A protestation, read at Edinburgh, was followed, on Archibald Johnston of Warriston’s suggestion, by....—J. R. Green.

The retirement of Judge Stonor was made the subject of special reference yesterday on the occasion of Sir W. L. Selfe, his successor, taking his seat in Marylebone County Court.—Times.

The mere fact of such a premier being endured shows....—Bagehot.

There is no possibility of the dissolution of the legislative union becoming a vital question.—Spectator.

If some means could be devised for ... insisting upon many English guardians of the poor making themselves more acquainted....—Times.

The only objection to a possessive mark after successor is that the two commas cannot be dispensed with; we must say when ... took for on the occasion of ... taking. Such a premier’s will certainly pass. In the Spectator sentence, we should ourselves allow union’s; opinions will differ. But to put the ’s after poor in the last sentence would be ridiculous; that sentence must be rewritten—insisting that many English guardians of the poor should make—or else poor-law Guardians’ must be used.

e. Sometimes we can get over the difficulty without abandoning the gerund, by some slight change of order.

This incentive can only be supplied by the nation itself taking the matter up seriously.—Lord Roberts.

If itself’s is objected to, omit itself (or shift it to the end), and write nation’s.

f. But many types of sentence remain that will have to be completely changed if the gerund is to be recognizable. It will be admitted about most of our examples that the change is not to be regretted. The subject of the gerund is italicized in each, to emphasize its length.

We have to account for the collision of two great fleets, so equal in material strength that the issue was thought doubtful by many careful statisticians, ending in the total destruction of one of them and in the immunity of the other from damage greater than might well be incurred in a mere skirmish.—Times.

For account for ... ending write ascertain why ... ended. The sentence is radically bad, because the essential construction seems complete at collision—a false scent. That, which is one of the worst literary sins, is the frequent result of long fused participles. It is quite practically possible here for readers to have supposed that they were going to be told why the fleets met, and not why the meeting ended as it did. In the remaining sentences, we shall say when there is false scent, but leave the reader to examine it.

The success of the negotiations depends on the Russian Minister at Tokio being allowed to convince Japan that....—Times.

The compound possessive—Tokio’s—is tempting, but perhaps overbold. Insert whether after depends on, and write is for being.

So far from this being the case, the policy ... was actually decided upon before ... the question ... was raised.—Times.

Omit being the case.

We are not without tokens of an openness for this higher truth also, of a keen though uncultivated sense for it, having existed in Burns.—Carlyle.

For the first of write that, omit the second of, and omit having. False scent.

There is no apparent evidence of an early peace being necessitated by the pecuniary exigencies of the Russian Government.—Sir Howard Vincent.

For of ... being write that ... will be, if peace’s cannot be endured.

The general effect of his words was to show the absurdity of the Secretary of State for War, and our military authorities generally, denouncing the Militia as useless or redundant.—Spectator.

For the absurdity of ... denouncing write how absurd it was for ... to denounce. False scent, though less deceptive.

Apparently his mission was decided upon without that of the British and Spanish Ministers having been taken into account, or, at all events, without their having been sufficiently reckoned with.—Times.

Without regard (at all events without sufficient regard) to that of....

... capital seeking employment in foreign protected countries, in consequence of manufacturing business in many branches in which it might be employed at home being rendered unprofitable by our system of free trade.—Lord Goschen.

For in consequence of ... being write because ... has been. Bad false scent again.

So far from the relief given to agriculture by the State paying one-half of the rates being inequitable, it is but a bare act of justice.—Spectator.

Observe the fused participle within fused participle here; and read thus: So far from its being inequitable that the state should relieve, &c.

After these specimens, chosen not as exceptional ones, but merely as not admitting of simple correction by insertion of the possessive mark, the reader will perhaps agree that the long gerund subject—or rather noun phrase of the fused participle—is a monstrosity, the abolition of which would be a relief to him, and good discipline for the writer.

Two sentences are added to show the chaotic state of present practice. Noticing the bold use of the strict gerund in the first, we conclude that the author is a sound gerundite, faithful in spite of all temptations; but a few pages later comes the needless relapse into fused participle.

I remember old Colney’s once, in old days, calling that kind of marriage a sarcophagus.—Meredith.

She had thought in her heart that Mr. Barmby espousing the girl would smoothe a troubled prospect.—Meredith.

The following looks like a deliberate avoidance of both constructions by a writer who is undecided between the two. Its being is what should have been written.

I do not say that the advice is not sound, or complain that it is given. I do deprecate that it should be taken.—Times.

And perhaps a shyness of something’s being shown accounts for the next odd arrangement; it is true that entire recasting is what is called for.

There being shown to be something radically defective in the management of the Bank led to the appointment of a Committee.—H. D. Macleod.

2. When must the subject of the gerund (or infinitive) be expressed, and when omitted?

This is not a controversial matter like the last; the principles are quite simple, and will be accepted; but it is necessary to state and illustrate them because they are often forgotten. As the same mistakes are sometimes made with the infinitive, that is to be considered as included.

Roughly, the subject of the gerund (or infinitive) should be expressed if it is different from, and omitted if it is the same as, the subject of the sentence. To omit it when different is positively wrong, and may produce actual ambiguity or worse, though sometimes there is only a slipshod effect; to insert it when the same is generally clumsy.

No one would say ‘I succeeded to his property upon dying’, because, I being the subject of the sentence, my is naturally suggested instead of the necessary his as subject of the gerund; the his must be inserted before dying, even though the nature of the case obviates ambiguity. To take an instance that will show both sides, the following is correct:

I shut the door and stood with my back to it. Then, instead of his philandering with Bess, I, Clementina MacTaggart, had some plain speech with John Barnaby.—Crockett.

Subject of the sentence, I; subject of the gerund, he; they are different; therefore the he must be expressed, in the shape of his. Now rewrite the main sentence as—John Barnaby heard some plain speech from me, Clementina MacTaggart. The sense is the same; but the his before philandering at once becomes superfluous; it is not yet seriously in the way, because we do not know what is the subject of philandering, the name only coming later. Now rewrite it again as—Then John Barnaby heard some plain speech from ... instead of ... The his is now so clumsy as to be almost impossible.

The insertion of superfluous subjects is much less common than the omission of necessary ones; but three examples follow. The first is a rare and precious variety; the second has no apparent justification; for the third it may be said that the unusual his has the same effect as the insertion of the parenthetic words as he actually does after limiting would have had.

You took food to him, but instead of he reaching out his hand and taking it, he kept asking for food.—Daily Telegraph.

Harsh facts: sure as she was of her never losing her filial hold of the beloved.—Meredith.

I have said that Mr. Chamberlain has no warrant for his limiting the phrase ... to the competitive manufacture of goods.—Lord Goschen.

In giving the rule summarily, we used the phrase subject of the sentence. That phrase is not to be confined to the subject of the main sentence, but to be referred instead, when necessary, to the subject of the subordinate clause in which the gerund may stand. For instance:

The good, the illuminated, sit apart from the rest, censuring their dullness and vices, as if they thought that, by sitting very grand in their chairs, the very brokers, attorneys, and congressmen would see the error of their ways, and flock to them.—Emerson.

Here by sitting breaks the rule, though the subject of sitting is the same as that of the main verb sit, because the subject of the clause in which sitting comes is not the good, but brokers, &c. The right way to mend this is not to insert their before sitting—which after all is clumsy, though correct—but to make the good the subject of the clause also, by writing as if they thought that by sitting ... they would make the brokers ... see the error.

And sometimes subject of the sentence is to be interpreted still more freely as the word grammatically dominant in the part of the sentence that contains the gerund. For instance:

From the Bible alone was she taught the duties of morality, but familiarized to her taste by hearing its stories and precepts from the lips she best loved.—S. Ferrier.

Here the dominant word is Bible, to which familiarized belongs. So, though she does happen to be the main subject, her must be inserted because the familiarized phrase removes the gerund from the reach of the main subject.

After these explanations we add miscellaneous instances. It will be seen that transgression of the rule, though it seldom makes a sentence ambiguous enough to deceive, easily makes it ambiguous enough to amuse the reader at wrong moments, or gives an impression of amateurish work. Mistakes are mended, sometimes by inserting the subject of the gerund (or infinitive), sometimes by changing the main subject to make it the same as that of the gerund, sometimes by other recasting.

... an excellent arrangement for a breeching, which, when released, remains with the carriage, so that lead or centre horses can be put in the wheel without having to affix a new breeching.—Times.

Lucky, reflects the reader, since horses are not good at affixing breechings. Write the drivers can put ... horses ... without having to affix.

I cultivated a passionless and cold exterior, for I discovered that by assuming such a character, certain otherwise crafty persons would talk more readily before me.—Corelli.

Write if I assumed; or else I should induce certain ... persons to talk. It will be noticed that the mistake here, and often, is analogous to the most frequent form of wrongly attached participle (participle, 5); the writer does not observe that he has practically passed from the sphere of the sentence whose subject was the word that he still allows to operate.

After following a country Church of England clergyman for a period of half a century, a newly-appointed, youthful vicar, totally unacquainted with rural life, comes into the parish, and at once commences to alter the services of the Church, believed in by the parishioners for generations.—Daily Telegraph.

Grammar gives his, i. e., the new vicar’s, as subject of following; it is really either my or the parishioners’. Insert my or our, or write After we (I) have followed.

I am sensible that by conniving at it it will take too deep root ever to be eradicated.—Times.

Insert our, or write if connived at.

This was experienced by certain sensitive temperaments, either by sensations which produced shivering, or by seeing at night a peculiar light in the air.—Times.

Who or what sees? Certainly not this, the main subject. Not even temperaments, which have no eyes. Write Persons of sensitive temperament experienced this, &c.

But the commercial interests of both Great Britain and the United States were too closely affected by the terms of the Russo-Chinese agreement to let it pass unnoticed.—Times.

It is not the interests that cannot let it pass, but the countries. Insert for those countries before to let; or write Both Great Britain and the United States were too closely affected in their interests to let....

And it would be well for all concerned, for motor drivers and the public alike, if this were made law, instead of fixing a maximum speed.—Times.

Write if the law required this....

And in order to bring her to a right understanding, she underwent a system of persecution.—S. Ferrier.

Write they subjected her to for she underwent.

Her friendship is too precious to me, not to doubt my own merits on the one hand, and not to be anxious for the preservation of it on the other.—Richardson.

Write I value her friendship too highly not to....

One cannot do good to a man whose mouth has been gagged in order not to hear what he desires for his welfare.—Times.

Grammar suggests that his mouth—or, if indulgent, that he—is not to hear; but the person meant is one. Write one has gagged for has been gagged.

Germany has, alas! victories enough not to add one of the kind which would have been implied in the retirement of M. Delcassé.—Times.

It is France, not Germany, that should not add. Write without France’s adding.

In order to obtain peace, ordinary battles followed by ordinary victories and ordinary results will only lead to a useless prolongation of the struggle.—Times.

This is a triumph of inconsequence. Write If peace is the object, it should be remembered that ordinary....

It will have occurred to the reader that, while most of the sentences quoted are to be condemned, objection to a few of them might be called pedantic. The fact is that every writer probably breaks the rule often, and escapes notice, other people’s, his own, or both. Different readers, however, will be critical in different degrees; and whoever breaks the rule does so at his own risk; if his offence is noticed, that is hanging evidence against him by itself; if it is not noticed, it is not an offence. Of saying on page 127 Mistakes are mended sometimes by inserting the subject, we plead Guilty if we were caught in the act, but otherwise Not Guilty.

3. Choice between the gerund with preposition and the infinitive.

It was said in the preliminary section on the Participle and Gerund that writing—the verbal noun or gerund—and to write—the infinitive—are in some sense synonyms; but phrases were given showing that it is by no means always indifferent which of the two is used. It is a matter of idiom rather than of grammar; but this seems the most convenient place for drawing attention to it. To give satisfactory rules would require many more examples and much more space than can be afforded. But something will be gained if students are convinced (1) that many of the mistakes made give sentences the appearance of having been written by a foreigner or one who is not at home with the literary language; (2) that the mistakes are nearly always on one side, the infinitive being the form that should only be used with caution; (3) that a slight change in arrangement may require a change from infinitive to gerund or vice versa.

a. When the infinitive or gerund is attached to a noun, defining or answering the question what (hope, &c.) about it, it is almost always better to use the gerund with of; not quite always, however; for instance, an intention to return, usually, and a tendency to think always.

The vain hope to be understood by everybody possessed of a ballot makes us in the United States perhaps guiltier than public men in Great Britain in the use of that monstrous muddled dichotomy ‘capital and labour’.—Times.

What hope?—That of being understood. Write it so, and treat all the following similarly:

The habitual necessity to amass [of amassing] matter for the weekly sermon, set him noting...—Meredith.

We wish to be among the first to felicitate Mr. Whitelaw Reid upon his opportunity to exercise [of exercising] again the distinguished talents which...—Times.

Men lie twenty times in as many hours in the hope to propitiate [of propitiating] you.—Corelli.

We left the mound in the twilight, with the design to return [of returning] the next morning.—Emerson.

The main duties of government were omitted—the duty to instruct [of instructing] the ignorant, to supply [of supplying] the poor with work and good guidance.—Emerson.

Mr. Hay’s purpose to preserve or restore [of preserving or restoring] the integrity of the administrative entity of China has never been abandoned.—Times.

My custom to be dressed [of being dressed] for the day, as soon as breakfast is over, ... will make such a step less suspected.—Richardson.

He points out that if Russia accepted the agreement, she would not attain her object to clear [of clearing] the situation, inasmuch as....—Times.

What accounts for these mistakes is the analogy of forms like: Our design was to return; it is a duty to instruct; man has power to interpret (but the power of interpreting); it is my custom to be dressed.

When, however, the noun thus defined is more or less closely fused into a single idea with the verb that governs it, the infinitive becomes legitimate, though seldom necessary.

The menace to have secreted Solmes, and that other, that I had thoughts to run away with her foolish brother, ... so much terrified the dear creature....—Richardson.

I passed my childhood here, and had a weakness here to close my life.—Beaconsfield.

Before ten o’clock in the evening, Gasca had the satisfaction to see the bridge so well secured that....—Prescott.

Almagro’s followers made as little scruple to appropriate to their own use such horses and arms as they could find.—Prescott.

Had thoughts means was planning; had a weakness means desired; had the satisfaction, was pleased; made as little scruple, scrupled as little.

Again, an interval between the noun defined and the infinitive or gerund makes the former more tolerable.

The necessity which has confronted the Tokio War Office, to enlarge their views of the requirements of the situation.—Times.

Or the infinitive is used to avoid a multiplication of of.

He had as much as any man ever had that gift of a great preacher to make the oratorical fervour which persuades himself while it lasts into the abiding conviction of his hearers.—Lowell.

The pastures of Tartary were still remembered by the tenacious practice of the Norsemen to eat horseflesh at religious feasts.—Emerson.

If the noun has the indefinite article the infinitive is better sometimes.

But our recognition of it implies a corresponding duty to make the most of such advantages.—Times.

A duty to make: the duty of making. Compare power and the power above.

The following is probably an adaptation (not to be commended) of it is necessary for Russia to secure—for Russia to secure being regarded as a fused infinitive like the Latin accusative and infinitive.

His views on the necessity for Russia to secure the command of the sea....—Times.

b. Though the gerund with of is the usual construction after nouns, they sometimes prefer the gerund with other prepositions also to the infinitive. The gerund with in should be used, for instance, in the following. But euphony operates again in the first.

... the extraordinary remissness of the English commanders to utilize their preponderating strength against the Boers.—Times.

Lord Kenyon reminded the House of the resistance met with to vaccination, to [of?] the possible effect of the proposal to increase that resistance....—Times.

I think sculpture and painting have an effect to teach us manners and abolish hurry.—Emerson.

Such a capitulation would be inconsistent with the position of any Great Power, independently of the humiliation there would be for England and France to submit their agreement for approval and perhaps modification to Germany.—Times.

The humiliation there would be in submitting; or the humiliation it would be to submit.

c. After verbs and adjectives the infinitive is much more common; but no one will use a gerund where an infinitive is required, while many will do the reverse.

But history accords with the Japanese practice to show [in showing] that....—Times.

We must necessarily appeal to the intuition, and aim much more to suggest than to describe [at suggesting than at describing].—Emerson.

But they can only highly serve us, when they aim not to drill, but to create [at drilling, but at creating].—Emerson.

So far from aiming to be mistress of Europe, she was rapidly sinking into the almost helpless prey of France.—J. R. Green.

This is to avoid aiming at being; compare the avoidance of double of above.

Lose no time, I pray you, to advise.—Richardson.

In advising may have been avoided as ambiguous.

Egotism has its root in the cardinal necessity by which each individual persists to be [in being] what he is.—Emerson.

I do not despair to see [of seeing] a motor public service.—Guernsey Advertiser.

Their journeymen are far too declamatory, and too much addicted to substitute [substituting] vague and puerile dissertations for solid instruction.—Morley.

In the common phrase addicted to drink, drink is a noun, not a verb.

His blackguard countrymen, always averse, as their descendants are, to give [giving] credit to anybody, for any valuable quality.—Borrow.

Is he to be blamed, if he thinks a person would make a wife worth having, to endeavour [for endeavouring] to obtain her?—Richardson.

d. If a deferred subject, anticipated by it, is to be verbal, it must of course be either the infinitive or a gerund without preposition.

Fortune, who has generally been ready to gratify my inclinations, provided it cost her very little by so doing....—Borrow.

Shall and Will

It is unfortunate that the idiomatic use, while it comes by nature to southern Englishmen (who will find most of this section superfluous), is so complicated that those who are not to the manner born can hardly acquire it; and for them the section is in danger of being useless. In apology for the length of these remarks it must be said that the short and simple directions often given are worse than useless. The observant reader soon loses faith in them from their constant failure to take him right; and the unobservant is the victim of false security.

Roughly speaking, should follows the same rules as shall, and would as will; in what follows, Sh. may be taken as an abbreviation for shall, should, and should have, and W. for will, would, and would have.

In our usage of the Sh. and W. forms, as seen in principal sentences, there are elements belonging to three systems. The first of these, in which each form retains its full original meaning, and the two are not used to give different persons of the same tense, we shall call the pure system: the other two, both hybrids, will be called, one the coloured-future, the other the plain-future system. In Old English there was no separate future; present and future were one. Shall and will were the presents of two verbs, to which belong also the pasts should and would, the conditionals should and would, and the past conditionals should have and would have. Shall had the meaning of command or obligation, and will of wish. But as commands and wishes are concerned mainly with the future, it was natural that a future tense auxiliary should be developed out of these two verbs. The coloured future results from the application to future time of those forms that were practically useful in the pure system; they consequently retain in the coloured future, with some modifications, the ideas of command and wish proper to the original verbs. The plain future results from the taking of those forms that were practically out of work in the pure system to make what had not before existed, a simple future tense; these have accordingly not retained the ideas of command and wish. Which were the practically useful and which the superfluous forms in the pure system must now be explained.

Thou shall not steal is the type of shall in the pure system. We do not ordinarily issue commands to ourselves; consequently I shall is hardly required; but we often ask for orders, and therefore shall I? is required. The form of the shall present in the pure system is accordingly:

Shall I? You shall. He shall. Shall we? They shall.

As to the past tense, orders cannot be given, but may be asked about, so that, for instance, What should I do? (i. e., What was I to do?) can be done all through interrogatively.

In the conditionals, both statement and question can be done all through. I can give orders to my imaginary, though not to my actual self. I cannot say (as a command) I shall do it; but I can say, as a conditional command, I should do it.

I shall and we shall are accordingly the superfluous forms of the present shall in the pure system.

Again, with will, I will meaning it is my will, it is obvious that we can generally state this only of ourselves; we do not know the inside of other people’s minds, but we can ask about it. The present runs, then,

I will. Will you? Will he? We will. Will they?

The past tense can here be done all through, both positively and interrogatively. For though we cannot tell other people’s present will, we can often infer their past will from their actions. So (I was asked, but) I would not, and Why would I do it? all through. And similarly in the conditionals, I would not (if I could), &c.

The spare forms supplied by the present will, then, are you will, he will, they will; and these, with I shall, we shall, are ready, when the simple future is required, to construct it out of. We can now give

Rule 1. The Pure System

When Sh. and W. retain the full original meanings of command and wish, each of them is used in all three persons, so far as it is required.

The following examples show most of what we inherit directly from the pure system.

Thou shalt not steal. Not required in first person.

Shall I open the door? Not required in second.

You should not say such things. In all persons.

And shall Trelawny die? Hardly required in second.

Whom should he meet but Jones? (... was it his fate....) In all.

Why should you suspect me? In all.

It should seem so. (It would apparently be incumbent on us to believe) Isolated idiom with third.

I will have my way. Not required in second and third; but see below.

I (he) asked him (me) to do it, but he (I) would not. In all.

I would not have done it for the world. In all.

I would be told to wait a while (Habitual). In all.

Will you come with me? Not required in first.

I would I were dead. Not required in second and third.

He will bite his nails, whatever I say. In all.

He will often stand on his head. In all.

You will still be talking (i. e., you always are). Not required in first.

A coat will last two years with care.

It will be noticed that the last four forms are among those that were omitted as not required by the pure system. Will would rarely be required in second and third person statements, but would of course be possible in favourable circumstances, as in describing habitual action, where the will of another may be inferred from past experience. The last of all is a natural extension of the idiom even to things that have no will. All these ‘habitual’ uses are quite different from I will have my way; and though you will have your way is possible, it always has the ‘habitual’ meaning, which I will have my way is usually without.

All the forms in the above list, and others like them, have three peculiarities—that they are not practically futures as distinguished from presents; that they use Sh. for all persons, or W. for all persons, if the idea is appropriate to all persons; and that the ideas are simply, or with very little extension, those of command or obligation and wish.

The coloured-future system is so called because, while the future sense is more distinct, it is still coloured with the speaker’s mood; command and wish receive extensions and include promise, permission, menace, consent, assurance, intention, refusal, offer, &c.; and the forms used are invariably those—from both Sh. and W.—that we called the practically useful ones in the pure system. That is, we have always

I will, shall I? You shall, will you? He shall, will he? We will, shall we? They shall, will they?

And the conditionals, should and would, should have and would have, are used with exactly the same variations. It will be borne in mind, however, that no clear line of division can be drawn between the pure system and the coloured-future system, since the latter is developed naturally (whereas the plain-future system is rather developed artificially) out of the former. And especially the questions of the coloured future are simply those of the pure system without any sort of modification.

Rule 2. The Coloured-Future System

In future and conditional statements that include (without the use of special words for the purpose) an expression of the speaker’s (not necessarily of the subject’s) wish, intention, menace, assurance, consent, refusal, promise, offer, permission, command, &c.—in such sentences the first person has W., the second and third persons Sh.

I will tell you presently. My promise.

You shall repent it before long. My menace.

He shall not have any. My refusal.

We would go if we could. Our conditional intention.

You should do it if we could make you. Our conditional command.

They should have had it if they had asked. My conditional consent.

The only questions possible here are the asking for orders and the requests already disposed of under Rule 1.

Observe that I would like (which is not English) is not justified by this rule, because the speaker’s mood is expressed by like, and does not need double expression; it ought to be I should like, under Rule 3.

Observe also that I sha’n’t, You will go to your room and stay there, are only apparent exceptions, which will be explained under Rule 3.

The archaic literary forms You shall find, A rogue shall often pass for an honest man, though now affected and pretentious, are grammatically defensible. The speaker asks us to take the fact on his personal assurance.

The forms little required in the pure system, and therefore ready to hand for making the new plain future, were I, and we, shall; you, he, and they, will. These accordingly constitute the plain future, and the corresponding forms of the plain conditional are used analogously. Questions follow the same rule, with one very important exception, which will be given a separate rule (4). We now give

Rule 3. The Plain-Future System

In plain statements about the future, and in the principal clause, result, or apodosis, of plain conditional sentences (whether the subordinate clause, condition, or if-clause, is expressed or not), the first person has Sh., the second and third persons W. Questions conform, except those of the second person, for which see Rule 4.

Some apparent exceptions, already anticipated, must here be explained. It may be said that I shall execute your orders being the speaker’s promise, You will go to your room being the speaker’s command, and Sha’n’t (the nursery abbreviation for I shall not do it) being the speaker’s refusal, these are all coloured futures, so that Sh. and W. should be reversed in each. They are such in effect, but they are not in form. In each, the other form would be possible and correct. The first is a promise only so far as the hearer chooses to take as a promise the plain future or impersonal prophecy; but the speaker emphasizes his obedience by implying that of course, since the order has been given, it will be executed; the matter is settled without his unimportant consent. The other two gain force by the opposite assumption that the speaker’s will and the future are absolutely identical, so that what he intends may be confidently stated as a future fact. In the first example the desired submissiveness, in the other two the desired imperiousness, supercilious or passionate, are attained by the same impersonality.

Before giving the rule for second-person questions, we observe that questions generally follow the rule of the class of statement they correspond to. This was shown in the pure system (Rule 1). There are no questions (apart from those already accounted for by the pure system) belonging to the coloured future (Rule 2). In the plain future (Rule 3), first and third person questions are like the plain-future statements. But second-person questions under the plain future invariably use Sh. or W. according as the answer for which the speaker is prepared has Sh. or W. Care is necessary, however, in deciding what that answer is. In Should (would) you like a bathe? should is almost always right, because the answer expected is almost always either Yes, I should, or No, I should not, the question being asked for real information. It is true that Would you like? is very commonly used, like the equally wrong I would like; but it is only correct when the answer is intended to be given by the asker:—No, of course you would not. A clearer illustration of this is the following sentence, which requires Sh. or W. according to circumstances: Will (shall) you, now so fresh and fair, be in a hundred years nothing but mouldering dust?. This might possibly be asked in expectation of an answer from the person apostrophized—Yes, I shall. Much more probably it would be asked in expectation of the answer from the speaker himself to his own question—Alas! yes, you will. And shall ought to be used for the question only in the first case, will in the second case. Similarly, Ah, yes, that is all very well; but will (shall) you be able to do it? Use will if the answer is meant to be No, of course you will not; shall, if the answer expected is Yes, I shall, or No, I shall not.

In practice, Sh. is more commonly required, because questions asked for information are commoner than rhetorical ones. But observe the common Would you believe it?, Answer, No, of course you would not. Should you believe it?, also possible, would indicate real curiosity about the other person’s state of mind, which is hardly ever felt. Would you believe it?, however, might also be accounted for on the ground that the answer would be No, I would not, which would be a coloured-future form, meaning I should never consent to believe.

Rule 4. Second-person Questions

Second-person questions invariably have Sh. or W. by assimilation to the answer expected.

It may be added, since it makes the application of the rule easier, that the second-person questions belonging not to the plain future but to the pure system are also, though not because of assimilation, the same in regard to Sh. and W. as their answers. Thus Will you come? Yes, I will (each on its merits), as well as Shall you be there? Yes, I shall (assimilation). Should you not have known? Yes, I should (each on its merits; should means ought), as well as What should you think? I should think you were right (assimilation). The true form for all second-person questions, then, can be ascertained by deciding what the expected answer is.

This completes what need be said about principal sentences, with the exception of one important usage that might cause perplexity. If some one says to me ‘You would think so yourself if you were in my position’, I may either answer ‘No, I should not’ regularly, or may catch up his word, and retain the W., though the alteration of person requires Sh. Thus—‘Would I, though? No, I wouldn’t’. Accordingly,

Rule 5. Echoes

A speaker repeating and adapting another’s words may neglect to make the alteration from Sh. to W., or from W. to Sh., that an alteration of the person strictly requires.

We have now all the necessary rules for principal sentences, and can put down a few examples of the right usage, noteworthy for various reasons, and some blunders, the latter being illustrated in proportion to their commonness. The number of the rule observed or broken will be added in brackets for reference. The passage from Johnson with which the correct examples begin is instructive.

Right.

I would (2) injure no man, and should (3) provoke no resentment; I would (2) relieve every distress, and should (3) enjoy the benedictions of gratitude. I would (2) choose my friends among the wise, and my wife among the virtuous; and therefore should (3) be in no danger from treachery or unkindness. My children should (2) by my care be learned and pious, and would (3) repay to my age what their childhood had received.—Johnson.

Chatham, it should (1) seem, ought to have taken the same side.—Macaulay.

For instance, when we allege, that it is against reason to tax a people under so many restraints in trade as the Americans, the noble lord in the blue riband shall (2) tell you....—Burke.

The ‘critic fly’, if it do but alight on any plinth or single cornice of a brave stately building, shall (2) be able to declare, with its half-inch vision, that here is a speck, and there an inequality.—Carlyle.

John, why should you waste yourself (1) upon those ugly giggling girls?—R. G. White.

It wouldn’t be quite proper to take her alone, would it? What should (4) you say?—R. G. White.

Whether I have attained this, the future shall decide (2. I consent to accept the verdict of the future).—Times.

Wrong.

We give first many examples of the mistake that is out of all proportion the commonest—using the coloured future when the speaker’s mood is sufficiently given by a separate word. In the second example, for instance, I would ask the favour would be quite right, and would mean I should like to ask. As it stands, it means I should like to like to ask. The same applies to the other instances, which are only multiplied to show how dangerous this particular form is.

Among these ... I would be inclined to place (3) those who acquiesce in the phenomenalism of Mr. Herbert Spencer.—Daily Telegraph.

As one of the founders of the Navy League, I would like (3) to ask the favour of your well-known courtesy....—Times.

I would be glad (3) to have some account of his behaviour.—Richardson.

I would like (3) also to talk with you about the thing which has come to pass.—Jowett.

But give your definition of romance. I would like to hear it (3).—F. M. Crawford.

These are typical of thousands of paragraphs in the newspaper.... We would (3) wish for brighter news.—Westminster Gazette.

I have already had some offers of assistance, and I would be glad (3) to receive any amount towards the object.—Times.

Some examples follow that have not this excuse; and the first two deserve comment—the first because it results in serious ambiguity, the second because it is possibly not wrong.

The two fleets present seven Russian battleships against four Japanese—less than two to one; two Russian armoured cruisers against eight, and seven Russian torpedo-boat destroyers against an indefinite number of the enemy. Here we will (3) not exaggerate in attributing to the Japanese three or four to one.—Mahan.

With will, the meaning must be: We won’t call them three or four to one, because that would be exaggeration. But the meaning is intended to be: We will call them that, and it will be no exaggeration. Shall is absolutely necessary, however, to make it bear that interpretation.

This character who delights us may commit murder like Macbeth, or fly the battle for his sweetheart as did Antony, or betray his country like Coriolanus, and yet we will rejoice (3) in every happiness that comes to him.—W. B. Yeats.

It is possible that this is the use of will described as the ‘habitual’ use—he will often stand on his head—under Rule 1. But this is very rare, though admissible, in the first person of the present. We shall rejoice, or simply we rejoice, would be the plain way of saying it.

If this passion was simply painful, we would (3) shun with the greatest care all persons and places that could excite such a passion.—Burke.

What would (3) we be without our appetites?—S. Ferrier.

If I was ever to be detected, I would (3) have nothing for it but to drown myself.—S. Ferrier.

I will (3) never forget, in the year 1858, one notorious revivalist.—Daily Telegraph.

As long as I am free from all resentment, hardness, and scorn, I would (3) be able to face the life with much more calm and confidence than I would....—Wilde.

In the next two, if ‘I think’, and the if-clause, were removed, the shall and will would stand, expressing resolve according to Rule 2. But with those additions it is clear that prophecy or pure future is meant; and shall and will should be will and shall.

Nothing, I think, shall ever make me (3) forgive him.—Richardson.

We were victorious in 1812, and we will (3) be victorious now at any cost, if we are strong in an alliance between the governing class and the governed.—Times.

We now proceed to Subordinate Clauses, and first to the Substantival. The word ‘reported’ will mean ‘made indirect’ or ‘subordinated substantivally’, not always actually reported.

Reported statement is quite simple when it is of the pure system or the coloured future; the Sh. or W. of the original statement is retained in the reported form, unaffected by any change of person that the reporting involves. Thus: (Pure system) He forgave me (you, or her), though he said I (you, or she) should not have left him in the lurch like that. (Coloured future) You said I (or he) should repent it; either of these is a report of either You shall repent it or He shall repent it. (Coloured future) You said you (or I said I) would apologize; both are reports of I will apologize.

But with the plain-future system there is difficulty and some inconsistency. The change of person sometimes required by reported speech has almost always the effect here of introducing Sh. if I or we appears in the words as reported, and usually the effect of introducing W. if you, he, or they, appears. The following are all the types in which doubt can arise, except that each of these may occur in either number, and in past or present. The form that would be required by analogy (keeping the original Sh. or W.) is given first, and the one generally used instead is added in brackets. Reporting I shall never succeed, we get

You said you should (would) never succeed.

He says he shall (will) never succeed.

Reporting you will (or he will) never succeed, we get

You say I will (shall) never succeed.

He said I would (should) never succeed.

Even those persons who have generally a just confidence in their own correctness about Sh. and W. will allow that they have some doubt about the first pair; and nearly every one will find W. in the second pair, however reasonable and consistent, intolerable.

If the reader will now go through the four sentences again, and substitute for succeed the phrase do it (which may or may not mean succeed), he will see that the orthodox should and shall of the first pair become actually more natural than the commoner would and will; and that even in the second pair will and would are now tolerable. The reason is that with do it there is risk of confusion with the reported forms of I will never do it and you shall never do it, which are not plain futures, but coloured futures meaning something quite different.

Reported questions present the same difficulties. Again those only are doubtful that belong to the plain future. There, for instance, reporting Shall you do it? we can say by the correct analogy I asked him whether he should; and we generally do so if the verb, as here, lends itself to ambiguity: I asked him whether he would do it is liable to be mistaken for the report of Will you do it?—a request. If on the other hand (as in reporting Shall you be there?) there is little risk of misunderstanding, I asked him whether he would is commoner. And again it is only in extreme cases, if even then, that the original W. can be kept when the report introduces I in place of the original question’s you or he. For instance, the original question being How will he be treated?, it may be just possible to say You had made up your mind how I would be treated, because You had made up your mind how I should be treated almost inevitably suggests (assisted by the ambiguity of making up your mind, which may imply either resolve or inference) that the original question was How shall he be treated?

It would be well, perhaps, if writers who take their responsibilities seriously would stretch a point sometimes to keep the more consistent and less ambiguous usage alive; but for practical purposes the rule must run:

Rule 6. Substantival Clauses.

In these (whether ‘reported’ strictly or otherwise subordinated) pure-system or coloured-future forms invariably keep the Sh. or W. of the original statement or question, unaffected by any change of person. Reports of plain-future forms do this also, if there would be serious danger of ambiguity, but almost always have Sh. in the first person, and usually W. in the second and third persons.

As the division of substantival clauses into indirect (or reported or subordinate or oblique) statements, questions, and commands, is familiar, it may be well to explain that in English the reported command strictly so called hardly exists. In what has the force of a reported command it is in fact a statement that is reported. For instance, He said I was to go, though used as the indirect form of Go, is really the indirect of the statement You are to go. He ordered that they should be released (though the actual words were Be they, or Let them be, released) is formed on the coloured-future statement, They shall be released. It is therefore unnecessary to give special rules for reported command. But there are one or two types of apparent indirect command about which, though there is no danger of error, the reader may feel curious.

a. I stipulate that I shall, you shall, he shall, do it. Why shall in all persons? because the original form is: I (you, he) shall do it, I stipulate that, where shall means am to, are to, is to; that is, it is a pure-system form.

b. I beg that you (or he) will do it. He begs that I will do it. Again the original is pure-system: You (or he) will (i. e., you consent to) do it: that is what I beg. I will (i. e., I consent to) do it: that is what he begs.

c. I beg that I (or he) shall not suffer for it. You begged that I should not suffer for it. Observe that b. has will and a. and c. shall, because it is only in b. that the volition of the subject of shall or will is concerned.

d. I wish you would not sneeze. Before subordination this is: You will not sneeze: that is what I wish. W. remains, but will becomes would to give the remoteness always connected with wish, which is seen also, for instance, in I wish I were instead of I wish I be.

Before going on to examples of substantival clauses, we also register, again rather for the curious than for the practical reader, the peculiar but common use of should contained in the following:

It is not strange that his admiration for those writers should have been unbounded.—Macaulay.

In this use should goes through all persons and is equivalent to a gerund with possessive: that a man should be is the same as a man’s being. We can only guess at its origin; our guess is that (1) should is the remote form for shall, as would for will in d. above, substituted in order to give an effect of generality; and (2) the use of shall is the archaic one seen in You shall find, &c. So: a man shall be afraid of his shadow; that a man should be afraid (as a generally observed fact) is strange.

After each of the substantival clauses, of which examples now follow, we shall say whether it is a reported (subordinated) statement, or question, and give what we take to be the original form of the essential words, even when further comment is unnecessary.

Examples of Sh. and W. in Substantival clauses.

Right.

You, my dear, believe you shall be unhappy, if you have Mr. Solmes: your parents think the contrary; and that you will be undoubtedly so, were you to have Mr. Lovelace.—Richardson.

Statement. The original of the first is I shall be; of the second, she will be. In this and the next three the strictly analogical form that we recommended is kept.

I have heard the Princess declare that she should not willingly die in a crowd.—Johnson.

Statement. I should not.

People imagine they should be happy in circumstances which they would find insupportably burthensome in less than a week.—Cowper.

Statement. We should. They would is not ‘reported’.

Do you really fancy you should be more beholden to your correspondent, if he had been damning you all the time for your importunity?—Stevenson.

Statement. I should be.

The nation had settled the question that it would not have conscription.—Times.

Statement. We will not. The blundering insertion of the question—perhaps due to some hazy notion of ‘putting the question’—may be disregarded.

When the war will end still depends on Japan.—Times.

Question. When will it end?

Shaftesbury’s anger vented itself in threats that the advisers of this dissolution should pay for it with their heads.—J. R. Green.

Statement. You shall pay.

He [i. e., James II] regarded his ecclesiastical supremacy as a weapon.... Under Henry and Elizabeth it had been used to turn the Church of England from Catholic to Protestant. Under James it should be used to turn it back again.—J. R. Green.

Statement. Under me it shall be. The reporting word not expressed.

She could not bear the sight of all these things that reminded her of Anthony and of her sin. Perhaps she should die soon; she felt very feeble.—Eliot.

Statement. I shall. Again the reporting word absent.

There will never perhaps be a time when every question between London and Washington shall be laid at rest.—Times.

This is not properly speaking reported speech. But the shall is accounted for by a sort of allusion to a supposed prophecy—every question shall one day be laid at rest. In that prophecy, shall would convey that the prophet gave his personal guarantee for it, and would come under Rule 2. This is not to be confused with the use of shall in indefinite clauses that will be noticed later.

Wrong.

The four began their descent, not knowing at what step they should meet death nor which of them should reach the shore alive.—F. M. Crawford.

Questions. At what step shall we meet? Which of us will reach? The first is accordingly right, the second wrong. The modern writer—who has been at the pains to use the strictly correct should in the first place rather than the now common would—has not seen, as Richardson did in the first of the right examples, that his two clauses are dissimilar.

I hope that our sympathy shall survive these little revolutions undiminished.—Stevenson.

Statement. Will survive. It is possible, however, that the original was thought of, or rather felt, as Our sympathy shall survive. But as the effect of that is to give the speaker’s personal guarantee for the truth of the thing, it is clearly not a proper statement to make dependent on the doubtful word hope.

After mentioning the advance made in reforms of the military force of the country he [Lord Lansdowne] announced that the Government should not oppose the motion, readily availing themselves of Lord Wemyss’s suggestion that....—Times.

Statement. We shall not, or the Government will not. Probably Lord Lansdowne said we, and that accounts for should. But if The Times chooses to represent we by the Government, it must also represent shall by would.

It came with a strange stunning effect upon us all—the consciousness that never again would we hear the grind of those positive boot-heels on the gravel.—Crockett.

Statement. We shall never.

I think that if the matter were handed over to the parish councils ... we would within a twelvemonth have exactly such a network of rifle clubs as is needed.—Conan Doyle.

Statement. We should. Of these two instances it may be thought that the writers would have made the mistake in the original unsubordinated sentence, instead of its arising in the process of subordination; our experience is, however, that many people do in fact go wrong in subordinate clauses who are alive to the danger in simple sentences.

The Prime Minister ... would at once have asked the Opposition if they could suggest any further means for making the inquiry more drastic and complete, with the assurance that if they could suggest any such means, they would at once be incorporated in the Government scheme.—Spectator.

Statement. They shall be incorporated. We have classed this as wrong on the assumption, supported by the word assurance, that the Prime Minister gave a promise, and therefore used the coloured future, and did not state a fact and use the plain future.

Another type of subordinate clause important for Sh. and W. is the conditional protasis or if-clause. It is not necessary, nor with modern writers usual, to mark the future or conditional force of this separately, since it is sufficiently indicated by the apodosis. For instance, If you come I shall be glad; if you came I should be glad; if you had come I should have been glad. But in formal style or with a slight difference of meaning, it is often superfluously done in the protasis too. Sh. is then used for all persons, as, If he should come, you would learn how the matter stands. So:

Japan will adhere to her pledge of neutrality unless Russia shall first violate hers.—Times.

But to the rule that the protasis takes shall there are three exceptions, real or apparent; W. is found under the following circumstances:

(1.) An original pure-system or coloured-future W. is not changed to Sh. by being used in subordination to if (or unless). It is retained with its full original force instead of some verb like wish or choose. In If we would believe we might move mountains, the meaning is If we chose to believe, different from that of If we believed or should believe. So

It would be much better if you would not be so hypocritical, Captain Wybrow.—Eliot.

If you consented not to be, or did not insist on being.

It would be valuable if he would somewhat expand his ideas regarding local defence by Volunteers.—Times.

If he consented to.

(2.) When the if-clause (though a genuine condition) is incorrectly expressed for the sake of brevity and compresses two verbs into one, the W. proper to the retained verb is sometimes necessarily used instead of the Sh. proper to the verb that, though it contains in strict logic the essential protasis, has been crushed out. Thus: If it will be useless I shall prefer not to do it. It is not the uselessness that is the condition of the preference; for the use or uselessness is subsequent to the decision; it is my conviction of the uselessness; so that the full form would be If I shall be (or am in ordinary speech) convinced that it will be useless, I shall prefer, &c. The following example can be defended on this ground, if never again will he standing for if he shall realize that he will never; the feebleness that decides his not wishing is subsequent to it, and can only condition it if taken in the sense of his anticipation of feebleness.

And if there is to be no recovery, if never again will he be young and strong and passionate, if the actual present shall be to him always like a thing read in a book or remembered out of the far-away past; he will not greatly wish for the continuance of a twilight that....—Stevenson.

The next is more difficult only because, besides the compression, the if-clause is protasis not to the expressed main sentence, but to another that is suppressed.

I shall wait for fine weather, if that will ever come.—R. G. White.

Given fully, this would run: I shall wait for fine weather; (at least I should say so) if (I were sure that) that will ever come.

(3.) When an if-clause is not a condition at all, as for instance where it expresses contrast, and is almost equivalent to although, the ordinary plain-future use prevails. Thus: If annihilation will end our joys it will also end our griefs. Contrast with this the real condition, in: If annihilation shall end (or ends) our joys, we shall never regret the loss of them.

Indefinite clauses, relative or other, bearing the same relation to a conditional or future principal sentence that a conditional protasis bears to its apodosis follow the same rules. Thus Whoever compares the two will find is equivalent to If any one compares; When we have won the battle we can decide that question is equivalent to If ever we have won. Accordingly we can if we choose write Whoever shall compare, and When we shall have won; but we cannot write When we will have won, and must only write Whoever will compare if we distinctly mean Whoever chooses to compare. As there is sometimes difficulty in analysing indefinite clauses of this sort, one or two instances had better be considered.

The candidate who should have distinguished himself most was to be chosen.

This is clear enough; it is equivalent to if any one should have ... he was....

We must ask ourselves what victory will cost the Russian people when at length it will become possible to conclude the peace so ardently desired.—Times.

Equivalent to If ever it at length becomes. Will is therefore wrong; either becomes, or shall become.

Nothing can now prevent it from continuing to distil upwards until there shall be no member of the legislature who shall not know....—Huxley.

This is a complicated example. The shalls will be right if it appears that each shall-clause is equivalent to a conditional protasis. We may show it by starting at the end as with the house that Jack built and constructing the sentence backwards, subordinating by stages, and changing will to shall as the protases come in; it will be allowed that until means to the time when, and that when may be resolved into if ever. Thus we get: a. One will know. b. None will be a member of the legislature unless one shall know. c. It will distil to the time if ever none shall be a member unless one shall know.

Think what I will about them, I must take them for politeness’ sake.—R. G. White.

Although think what I will is an indefinite relative clause, meaning practically whatever I think, will here is right, the strict sense being whatever I choose to think. Indeed the time of think is probably not, at any rate need not be, future at all; compare Think what I will, I do not tell my thoughts.

We now give

Rule 7. Conditional protasis and Indefinite Clauses

In the protasis or if-clause of conditional sentences Sh. may be used with all persons. Generally neither Sh. nor W. is used. W. is only used (1) when the full meaning of wish is intended; it may then be used with all persons; (2) when the protasis is elliptically expressed; W. may then be necessary with the second and third persons; (3) when the if-clause is not a real conditional protasis; there is then no reason for Sh. with second and third persons. Indefinite classes of similar character follow the same rules.

A few right but exceptional, and some wrong subordinate clauses may now be added.

Examples of Sh. and W. in Subordinate Clauses.

Right.

As an opiate, or spirituous liquors, shall suspend the operation of grief....—Burke.

We may conceive Mr. Worldly Wiseman accosting such an one, and the conversation that should thereupon ensue.—Stevenson.

She is such a spare, straight, dry old lady—such a pew of a woman—that you should find as many individual sympathies in a chip.—Dickens.

In these three we have the archaic shall of personal assurance that comes under Rule 2, and its corresponding conditional, appearing in subordinate clauses. There is no objection to it except that, in modern writers, its context must be such as to exonerate it from the charge of affectation.

The longing of the army for a fresh struggle which should restore its glory.—J. R. Green.

This use of Sh. after final relatives is seen, if the compound sentence is resolved, to point to an original coloured future: We long for a fresh struggle; a fresh struggle shall restore (that is, we intend it to restore) our glory.

He was tormented by that restless jealousy which should seem to belong only to minds burning with the desire of fame.—Macaulay.

This is the should seem explained under Rule 1 appearing also as subordinate.

Wrong.

It should never be, but often is, forgotten that when the apodosis of a conditional sentence (with or without expressed protasis) is subordinate it is nevertheless still an apodosis, and has still Sh. in the first, W. in the second and third persons.

In ‘he struck him a blow’, we do not feel the first object to be datival, as we would in ‘he gave him a blow’.—H. Sweet.

I cannot let the moment pass at which I would have been enjoying a visit to you after your severe illness without one word of sympathy.—Gladstone.

It would mean that I would always be haunted by an intolerable sense of disgrace.—Wilde.

But though I would not willingly part with such scraps of science, I do not set the same store by them.—Stevenson.

We must reconcile what we would like to do with what we can do.—Times.

All these are wrong; in the last two the mistake is perhaps accounted for by the presence of willingly and like. I would not willingly can indeed be defended at the cost of admitting that willingly is mere tautology, and saying that I would not means I should not consent to, according to Rule 2.

It may be worth while to add that the subordinate apodosis still follows the rule even if it is subordinated to if, so that it is part of the protasis of another conditional sentence. The following, which is of course quite correct, seems, but only seems, to break the rules both for protasis and apodosis: If you would be patient for yourself, you should be patient for me. But we have W. with second person in the protasis because would be patient is also apodosis to the implied protasis if occasion should arise; and the should with second person in the apodosis is not a conditional should at all, but a pure-system should, which would be the same with any person; it means simply you ought, or it would be your duty.