Horace Greeley, obstreperous editor of the high-profile New York Tribune, couldn’t have disagreed more. His approach to editorial writing was to come out swinging. The Tribune avoided the jaunty slang and sensationalism of papers like the Sun and the Herald, but was fully committed to bluntness, especially when writing about politics. “We defy the Father of lies himself to crowd more stupendous falsehoods into a paragraph than this contains,” he writes in response to a rival paper’s article. An opinion piece advocating for pensions for Mexican War veterans begins, “Uncle Sam! you bedazzled old hedge-hog!” Of a persistent opponent, Greeley says, “We ought not to notice this old villain again.”28 (Greeley used villain as an insult so often that his political enemies nicknamed him Old Villain-You-Lie.)
Greeley had begun his journalism career much differently from White. The child of a poor day laborer, Greeley was born in Amherst, New Hampshire, in 1811, but his family moved frequently in search of a living. His scanty education ended when he was fourteen. Most of what he knew he picked up by reading library books and working at odd jobs in various small-town newspaper offices. In 1831, at the age of twenty, he left his parents’ home in Erie, Pennsylvania, and set out for New York City with $10 in his pocket and all his other belongings tied up in a handkerchief. He later described himself at that time as having an “unmistakably rustic manner and address.”29
Over the next ten years Greeley worked his way up in the journalism world with a succession of jobs, beginning with typesetting. Soon he was writing for magazines and newspapers, including the Daily Whig. In 1840 the Whig Party hired him to edit presidential candidate William Henry Harrison’s campaign weekly, the Log Cabin. After the election the Log Cabin ceased publication and Greeley launched the New York Tribune, a pro-Whig penny daily. Greeley’s goal, he later wrote, was to found a newspaper “removed alike from servile partisanship on the one hand, and from gagged, mincing neutrality on the other.”30
Greeley was never neutral and certainly never mincing. A man of deeply felt convictions, he expressed his views in forthright, pungent language. (He is best known today for the editorial advice, “Go west young man, and grow up with the country.”)31 Greeley’s attitudes were radical, occasionally bordering on eccentric. He wrote forcefully against slavery and was among the first to join the newly formed Republican Party when the Whigs split apart over the issue. He supported labor unions and opposed capital punishment. He also advocated Fourierism, based on the French philosopher Charles Fourier’s idea of organizing society into cooperative communities called phalanxes.
He believed in saying what he thought and, when criticized, vigorously defended his right to do so. In 1868 he wrote an opinion piece titled “Gov. Seymour as a Liar,” attacking Democratic presidential candidate and former New York governor Horatio Seymour for vastly overstating the amount of federal money being spent on Reconstruction. “Of all the evil-doers,” Greeley tells readers, “the Political Liar … is among the basest and most wicked.” After comparing Seymour’s numbers with the actual government figures, he ends the article by asking, “Is not the infamy of Horatio Seymour unspeakable?”32
The article provoked an outcry among the city’s more conservative editors. The Round Table, a weekly collection of financial and political news and literary reviews, printed a column titled “Mr. Greeley as a Gentleman.” It begins, “Mr. Horace Greeley has just disgraced himself, his newspaper, and the American press.” The writer informs Greeley that the language he has employed in his article “is such as to unfit him for the society of gentlemen” and advises him to take up the study of deportment.33
The New York Times also scolded Greeley for lack of professional courtesy. Whether or not Greeley’s accusations are true, says the Times, using “low” language to express them does not help his case. Greeley’s language has been “the language exclusively of blackguards and brutes … as is only used by persons of coarse natures.” It would justify a response in words that would make Greeley’s sound “tame and mealy-mouthed.” The Times writer winds up his lecture by opining that “if the whole Press of the country … adopted the teachings or followed the example of The Tribune … it would be quite as unfortunate for that journal as for the reputation of the country at large.”34
Greeley responds by inviting The New York Times to do its worst. “We would have The Times use such terms as most forcibly express its ideas,” he writes. “We especially beg it not to be ‘mealy-mouthed.’ So far from deeming it ‘unfortunate’ for us that other journals should be abusive, we insist that no one is ever harmed by any bad language except his own.”35 Greeley points out that while the Times article has been polite, the writer has failed to show that anything he said about Seymour was untrue.
By the time White and other verbal critics began mounting attacks on newspaper style, Greeley’s editing days were nearly over. Disappointed in the corrupt Grant administration, Greeley allowed himself to be drafted into running against the president in the 1872 election. He suffered a devastating defeat, carrying only six states. To add to his distress, his wife had died of tuberculosis just one month earlier. Greeley received yet another blow when he returned to the Tribune after the election. He discovered that during his long absence on the campaign trail, the newspaper, which was now owned by stockholders, had handed his editorial duties to others. Overwhelmed by these repeated shocks, Greeley’s physical and mental health failed and he died shortly afterward.
* * *
If Horace Greeley stood for fearless plain speaking, Sarah Josepha Hale represented the opposite end of the spectrum. Mrs. Hale, longtime editor of the popular women’s magazine Godey’s Lady’s Book (or editress, as she called herself), unabashedly promoted genteel speech. Through her magazine editorials and other writings, she introduced tens of thousands of women at all social levels to the idea that proper language use was an essential part of gracious living.
Hale was a remarkable woman. Born Sarah Josepha Buell in 1788, she grew up on a Newport, New Hampshire, farm. Sarah was unusually well educated. Besides the typical school subjects available to girls, she learned Latin and philosophy from her older brother. When she was twenty-five she married Newport lawyer David Hale, who encouraged her to continue educating herself. He also supported her first writing attempts—poems and articles that she submitted to local newspapers. Sarah Hale’s hobby turned into a career in 1822 when David Hale died suddenly, leaving her with five small children. The thirty-four-year-old widow decided to begin writing seriously with a view to earning money. Her first publication was a volume of poems. Over her long life Hale published nearly forty books, including poetry, novels, edited letters, anthologies, gift books, cookbooks, and advice books. Her most lastingly famous composition is the children’s poem that begins “Mary had a little lamb.”
Hale made her greatest mark as a magazine editor. In 1828 she became the first woman to hold such a position when the Boston-based Ladies Magazine offered her the job. Nine years later Philadelphia publisher Louis Godey bought the Ladies Magazine and merged it with his Lady’s Book. He kept Hale on as editor. She ran Godey’s Lady’s Book for the next forty years, writing her final editorial for the December 1877 issue when she was eighty-nine, only sixteen months before she died. During her tenure, the monthly magazine gained readers every year. By 1860 the number of subscribers had risen to 150,000 and Godey could boast that the Book was sent to “every State in the Union and to every Territory.”36
Godey’s Lady’s Book blends the educational, the inspirational, and the practical. A typical issue features several poems and short stories, including many by well-known authors; color plates of the latest fashions; knitting and sewing patterns; piano music; recipes and household hints; and book notices and reviews. Tucked into the spaces between the longer pieces are uplifting quotations and snippets of advice. One paragraph of advice begins, “Another rule for living happily with others is to avoid having stock subjects of disputation.” Another reminds readers, “Never suffer your
children to advance in years before you attend to their education.” A short entry titled “A Word for Grumblers” offers the consoling observation, “In every man’s cup, how so ever bitter,… there are some cordial drops … which if wisely extracted, are sufficient to make him contented.”
Hale’s voice is clearest in a section called “The Editor’s Table.” Here she offers opinion pieces and discussions of current events, focusing especially on women’s place in society. Although Hale championed women’s education—she was instrumental in the founding of Vassar, the first women’s college—and argued for women as teachers and health care providers, she firmly opposed the organized women’s movement of the time. Instead she believed that women should wield their influence as the moral and cultural arbiters of the home. Through her columns she gently shepherded Lady’s Book readers toward high principles, appropriate behavior, and refined taste.
Hale’s advice often covered language use. In her 1866 etiquette book, Manners: Or, Happy Homes and Good Society All the Year Round, she explains the importance of understanding the “true meaning” of everyday words. Although a knowledge of words is not enough in itself to guarantee clear thought processes, she believes that “the study of correctness is a great help to mental activity.” Furthermore, “as women are the first teachers of every human being, it follows that women must be well instructed in their own language.” Later in the book, she underlines the importance of correct language use, saying, “Words are things of mighty influence. The manner of speech indicates the habit of mind.”37
Hale shared some of the same concerns as White and other language arbiters. One issue that offended all of them was the increasing use of male and female to refer to human beings. While indiscriminate use of lady and gentleman put people on an artificially equal footing, referring to them as males and females went to the opposite extreme. It seemed to bring people down to the same level as animals. White says of female, “The use of this word for woman is one of the most unpleasant and inexcusable of the common perversions of language.” Mathews also remarks disapprovingly on this so-called “modern improvement” in speech, insisting that woman is a “more elegant and more distinctive title” than female.38
Hale heartily agrees. The expanded use of male and female that has crept into English has “injured its precision, weakened its power, and fatally corrupted its delicacy,” she writes in an article titled “Grammatical Errors.” She repeats this criticism in her etiquette book, saying “The practice of using the term ‘female’ as a synonym for ‘woman’ is vulgarizing our style of writing and our mode of speech.” She says she has been writing against this “serious error” for years in the hopes of correcting it.39
On other points, Hale and the verbal critics part ways. Although she warns her readers to avoid using fancy words that they don’t completely understand, she disagrees with White’s strictures against vocabulary derived from Latin. She notes that Mr. White denounces initiate as a long, pretentious word for begin, but argues that the two terms provide different shades of meaning. She points out that English is full of word pairs such as fatherly and paternal or ripe and mature, with broadly similar but not exactly synonymous connotations. In general, she says, “Anglo-Saxon gives vigor … and Latin adds learning.” “Fastidious scholars” might choose to limit themselves to simple Anglo-Saxon words, while “self-taught writers” might be tempted to search out the most elaborate terms, but the best writer is the one who “has the largest stock of words at his command, and knows how to use them accurately.”40
Hale also takes a stand in favor of euphemisms. “There are many colloquial expressions, used by the best writers and speakers,” she says, “which do not accord with the strict laws of etymology or grammar, but which it would be highly unjust to term underbred.” She defends words that White stigmatizes as inaccurate or affected. She believes, for example, that the new meaning of obnoxious is acceptable because it is less harsh than saying that someone is offensive. She also approves of persuasion for sect, avocation for employment, and party for person. Their use “proceeds from a sentiment which is the very essence of good breeding—the desire to spare the feelings of others.” In Hale’s view, courtesy encompassed knowing how to choose the right euphemism when one was called for.
Although concerned with delicacy and tact, she was broader minded than White when it came to accepting useful new words. In an essay titled “Words under Ban” she defends reliable, donate, and several other terms that White rejects. She concludes, “The language cannot afford to lose any word, however uncouth, which expresses an idea.”41
Hale was especially firm in defending terms that had been feminized with the –ess ending, such as authoress, editress, poetess, and actress. The verbal critics felt that these forms crossed the line into overrefinement. White calls the words distasteful, although he admits that mistress, prioress, deaconess, and similar terms are well established and therefore –ess words generally should probably be allowed into the vocabulary. Gould reacts more strongly, calling them “spurious words.” He, too, recognizes the need for traditional feminine titles like princess, baroness, and countess, as well as feminine forms of words “suggestive of men”—priest, ambassador, governor, hunter—but otherwise thinks the ending is superfluous. Hale saw feminized labels differently. To her they expressed respect for a woman’s unique cultural position. “Why should the cumbrous paraphrase, female author, be used,” she asks, “when authoress would more properly and elegantly express the meaning?”42
As the guiding spirit of American women’s favorite magazine, Hale wielded enormous influence. She used it partly to reinforce the notion that correct language use was a moral virtue. Women who wanted to appear well bred took care to sidestep the twin faults of vulgarity and ostentation, and to keep their language free from grammatical errors.
* * *
Although the verbal critics were dismissive of formal grammar study, it remained as relevant as ever for most people. Spurred on by the critiques of White and others, educators debated whether grammar should continue to be taught—a few advanced school districts even deleted it from the curriculum—but the grammar-book-using public was largely unaware of any controversy. Most children still studied grammar in school and adults consulted grammar books at home, just as they’d always done.
Etiquette books—a burgeoning form of literature aimed at the rising middle class—always included a section on proper speech. A typical example, American Etiquette and Rules of Politeness, advises, “To use correct language in conversation is another matter of very great importance. It is exceedingly unpleasant to hear the English language butchered by bad grammar.” The author goes on to recommend simplicity and purity in speech. Echoing the verbal critics, he says, “It is the uneducated and those who are only half-educated that use long words and high-sounding phrases.” Vulgarisms and slang—like good gracious and immensely jolly—should likewise be avoided.43
The verbal critics themselves felt the necessity to touch on grammar at least briefly in their books. Besides the issues that White addresses, like incorrect use of shall, the critics were especially bothered by the kinds of mistakes that arise from trying too hard to be correct. They pointed out, for instance, the use of whom as an embedded subject, as in I don’t know whom else is expected, and the appearance of nominative pronouns after a verb or preposition, as in It’s pointless for you and I to quarrel.
These usages were not new. Early grammar book authors occasionally note them, along with examples of their appearance in Shakespeare, Milton, or the Bible. Murray discusses the incorrect use of nominative pronouns and whom. Frequently, however, eighteenth-century grammarians either didn’t discuss these issues at all or limited them to a footnote. Presumably, most grammarians of that time didn’t consider them serious errors. That attitude was now beginning to change. “Split” infinitives, which were not a concern for eighteenth-century grammar book writers, also began to draw attention. By the turn of the twentieth centur
y inserting an adverb between to and a verb would emerge as a full-blown grammatical outrage.
Grammar teaching had also changed since the early days. New grammar books in the 1870s were designed to elicit the principles of grammar naturally rather than asking students to memorize the rules. William Swinton’s popular New Language Lessons is an example of this approach to grammar teaching. The author explains in his preface that his object is to help children acquire good grammar by “practice and habit” rather than the study of rules and definitions. He tells teachers, “the bristling array of classifications, nomenclatures, and paradigms has been wholly discarded.” Pupils are encouraged to “deal with speech” and “handle sentences” so they can see correct grammar in action.44
Yet Murray cast a long shadow. Swinton’s students may have started out traveling a different path from those long-ago children who memorized Murray’s English Grammar, but in the end they arrived at the same place. The book’s first section, “Classes of Words,” begins with a list of sentences in which the nouns are italicized. The sentences are followed by analysis—“The word ‘Columbus’ is the name of a person; the word ‘America’ is the name of a place;” and so on, until all the nouns have been identified. After the analysis comes the explanation—“Words that are used as names of persons, places, things, actions, or qualities … are called nouns.” These familiar words are followed by a definition that reaches even further into the past. Swinton’s “A noun is the name of anything existing or conceived by the mind” closely paraphrases Murray’s (originally Lowth’s) “a noun is the name of any thing conceived to subsist, or of which we have any notion.”45
A Practical Grammar of the English Language by Thomas Harvey, first published in 1868, is more conventional than Swinton. Harvey divides his book into the time-honored four sections of orthography, etymology, syntax, and prosody. Although many definitions are modernized, the usual parts of speech make their appearance, along with the typical verb conjugations, parsing exercises, and examples of false syntax.
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