m 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
CiDtJcaliutmi. 
BY L. WETHEKELL. 
"IS BEING BUILT "-AGAIN. 
Mr. Editor: —I am not aware that my 
article on this subject, was written either in 
a dictatorial, “opinion”-ated, or “complain”- 
ing spirit. But having satisfied myself 
both of the analogical and philosophical 
accuracy of the disputed form of expres¬ 
sion, I expressed myself accordingly. I 
never “ complain” of others for not adopt¬ 
ing my views on any subject, or for not 
being convinced by my arguments, provid¬ 
ed they will weigh them carefully before 
condemning them. But let this pass. 
I ask the favor, however, of being heard 
again on this subject, and if we do not suc¬ 
ceed, either of us, in convincing the other, 
our labor may not be lost, as some may be 
beneGtted by the discussion. Discussion 
may elicit truth. 
You will allow me, then, to repeat the 
substance of a few lines from my last, for 
the purpose of correcting an error, either of 
the compositor, or of myself. I said, “ There 
are, analogically,' two forms of the verb, 
both in the Active, and in the Passive, 
Voice; the simple and the progressive: as* 
Active—Simp. I love; Prog., I am lov¬ 
ing. 
Passive—Simp. I am loved; Prog., I am 
being loved. 
Active—Simp. I build a house; Prog., 1 
am building a house. 
Passive—Simp. A house is built; Prog., 
A house is being built. 
The latter is, analogically and philosoph¬ 
ically, the progressive form of the Passive 
voice; denoting that the building of the 
house is now in progress. 
To make this still plainer, let us com¬ 
pare the Participles: 
Active — Imp. Loving; Perf. having loved. 
“ “ Building; “ having built. 
Passive “ • Being Loved; Perf. Loved 
having been loved. Imp. Being built; 
Perf. Having been built. 
Act.—Is loving, is building; Pas. Is being 
loved , is being built. The Active is formed 
by joining the imp. act. participle; the pas¬ 
sive, by joining the imp. pas. participle, to 
the verb “ be.” 
“ One of the greatest defects of the Eng 
lish tongue,” says Dr. Beattie, “with re 
gard to the verb, seems to be the want of 
an imperfect passive participle; (See Wells’ 
“ School Grammar,” 1847, p. 157.) and yet 
not only Dr. B., but every writer and speak, 
er, (even my honored and honorable oppo¬ 
nent,) must acknowledge that “being loved,” 
“being built,” &c., are the very participles 
(imp. pass.) which he (Dr. B.) says are 
wanting. We have neither use, nor room, 
for another. If this is not true, then all 
our grammars are w r rong, and the expres 
sion, •* Science of Language,” becomes an 
unmeaning phrase. 
I am well aware that there are “differ¬ 
ent opinions” on this subject, as there are 
on every other; but as no argument, except 
that of “ authority,” has been adduced by 
my opponent, it will only be necessary for 
me to notice this one. My opponent says: 
“ There are a few, who, perhaps, may be 
deemed respectable authors, that use the 
phraseology, &c.” I beg leave to dissent 
from this. “Facts are” not “against my 
opinion.” It is easy for us, when we have 
an object in view, to quote a few isolated 
examples of any particular form of expres¬ 
sion, from almost any author, without no¬ 
ticing how often he uses a different form; 
and my own reading and observation have 
satisfied me, that the form for which I con¬ 
tend, is used by “ some of our very best 
English writers,” and that its use is much 
more frequent than formerly. Some use 
both forms without apparent preference; 
and some use a third; as, “is building,” 
“is being built,” “is in process of erection.” 
The last, I think, will be found to be more i 
frequently used than the first, and many 
good writers use it almost exclusively, as it 
conveys the precise meaning of the second 
the very meaning which they wish to con¬ 
vey. If authorities are wanted, they can be 
furnished, even from those who condemn 
the “ new-fangled,” “uncouth,” “absurd,” 
phraseology. Many might be given, but 
at present one shall suffice: viz, that of my 
opponent himself. See “ Rural,” vol. II, 
No. 22, page 174, under “ Items, etc.,” near 
the bottom— “ Great efforts are being made 
to induce Jenny Lind, &c.” How much 
better than “are making!” But, 
A few' words on authorities, and I close. 
1st, It should be remembered that many, 
(perhaps most) of “ our very best English 
authors” are the descendents of poorly ed¬ 
ucated parents, (I mean no disrespect,) 
from whom they firsL learned the use of 
language, adopting all their faulty modes of 
expression. J hat these errors, confirmed 
by habit, are not always corrected at the 
schools, not even at the higher institutions 
of learning: (For proof, I appeal to the 
graduates of our schools of every grade:) 
That the subsequent reading and study of 
these men, being pursued with reference to 
a profession, tend little to the correction of 
long-continued habits in the use of lan 
guage: And hence, finally, that their error 
are neither more, nor less, than the errors 
of common men, sanctioned by a “liberal 
education;” which, according to the doc 
trine of some, cease to be errors because 
used by “our best writers.” Examples 
will be furnished if required. But, 
2d. Those who contend that our best 
writers are the standard of propriety in the 
use of the English language, practically 
deny their own standard. Our best Eng¬ 
lish grammars abound in “Examples of 
halse Syntax,!’ .selected from our “best 
writers and speakers,” and none, not even 
those writers and speakers themselves, ever 
protest against such liberties of the gram 
marians. All submit in silence. Why 
this? If they are our standard, there 
should be no dissent from it. These “ Ex¬ 
amples” must be correct, or the standard 
ceases to be a standard. But this 
dissent proves the w r ant of a less capricious, 
a more reliable standard. 
3d. For such a standard, our great Lex¬ 
icographer, Noah Webster, laid the founda¬ 
tion, by devoting his life to the study of 
Language. What was his object, but to 
trace the words of the English language to 
their various roots, in order to arrive at 
their proper meaning? Thus far his great 
work is complete. He omitted, however, to 
make an application of the result of his la 
bors to the formation of a “ Standard,” and 
hence the reason why his English Gram¬ 
mar did not become a “ standard in Gram¬ 
mar,” as his Dictionary has in Lexicogra¬ 
phy. Had he “ vetoed” certain modes of 
expression, our language would not now be 
disfigured by their use. Ilad he construct¬ 
ed a grammar on the “ principles of lan¬ 
guage,” that, too, would have become a 
standard. All wmuld have bowed to such 
an authority. Such a standard would not 
have trammelled, but regulated, “Custom.’’ 
The want of such a standard is the cause 
of so great discrepancy among grammari¬ 
ans. H 
Down East, May 30th, 1851. 
SPIDER 
The Spider family ( Arachnides ) are well 
known to all our readers, yet perhaps but 
a portion of them have given this insect 
that notice which its wonderful structure 
and habits deserve. - 
In connection with the above engraving, 
we here sketch a few of their peculiarities. 
They have sometimes six, and sometimes 
eight eyes, set all around the head, two 
before, two behind, and the others on each 
side. Like those of all other insects, they 
are immovable, without eyelids, and pro¬ 
tected by a horny, transparent outer coat. 
They have eight legs—the two in front 
having claws like those of a cat, and with a 
small hole near the point of each through 
which poison is emitted of sufficient power 
to destroy its insect prey. These legs are 
jointed, and like those of the lobster, if a 
joint be torn away, or a leg cut off, a new 
one will quickly grow in its place. Their 
claws are also furnished with a sponge- 
like substance at the extremity, containing 
a glutinous liquid by which they can pass 
over the most nicely polished substances.— 
but though thus equipped they depend 
upon nets and stratagems for food, as the 
thousand webs in every corner, most abun¬ 
dantly show. 
The spider,” says the Library of Natu¬ 
ral History, “ is a most experienced hunter, 
and spreads its web where flies are most 
apt to shelter. There the little animal re¬ 
mains for days, nay, weeks together, in pa¬ 
tient expectation, seldom changing its situ¬ 
ation though ever so unsuccessful. 
For the purposes of making this web, 
nature has supplied this animal with a large 
quantity of glutinous matter, and five dugs 
or teats for spinning it into thread. This 
substance is contained in a little bag, and 
at first sight resembles soft glue; but when 
examined more accurately, it will be found 
twisted into many coils of an agate color, 
and upon breaking it the contents may easi¬ 
ly be drawn out into threads, from the te¬ 
nacity of the substance, not from those 
threads being already lormed. Those who 
have seen the machine by which wire is 
spun, will have an idea of the manner in 
which this animal forms the threads of its 
little net, the orifices of the five teats above 
mentioned, through which the thread is 
drawn, contracting or dilating at pleasure. 
The threads which we see, and appear so 
fine, are, notwithstanding, composed of five 
joined together, and these are many times 
doubled when the web is in formation. 
Remarks. —We have cheerfully complied with 
the request of our correspondent, H., in inserting 
his second communication on the anomolous 
phraseology whose type stands at the head of his 
article, though we do not, after careful study, dis¬ 
cover any new fact or argument to authorize its 
use in good English composition. We look upon 
the phrase as a solecism, and its use cannot, there¬ 
fore, be regarded by us as a matter of taste, as it 
may be, and is truly said of many other “phrases” 
in common use. 
“Zs being built,” is the phrase under consider¬ 
ation. The word “ built,” according to Webster 
signifies, “ constructed ,” and is a perfect partici¬ 
ple; “ being,” according to the same authority, 
signifies, when an imperfect participle, “ existing 
in a certain state;” and “ is” is used to supply, 
in part, the defects of the verb be, whose “ sense is 
to stand, remain, or be fixed.” Now', for exam¬ 
ple, a person in speaking, or writing uses the fol¬ 
lowing expression, to wit.—“ The house is being 
built.” According to the ordinary use of these 
words, as defined by Dr. Webster, the expres¬ 
sion, as quoted, means, if it means anything, that, 
constructed” house, or a “ built” house, is 
existing in a certain state, in which it is, i. e. con¬ 
structed, when the intention of the speaker, or 
writer w'as to convey the impression to the mind of 
the hearer or reader, that a house is in the progress 
of construction, or in the go.id old English form, 
is building”—a thing from its nature not acting, 
but signifying, as the expression does, a passive 
progressive condition of the house. , 
Again, as we said in our former remarks on this 
subject, the word "built,” and as we have also 
just shown, implies, completion of construction, 
while being as its termination shows, implies a 
continuous condition—in other words, an in-com- j 
When a spider proposes to begin a web, 
it first makes choice of some commodious 
spot, where there is an appearance of plun¬ 
der and security. The animal then distils 
one little drop of its glutinous liquor, which 
is very tenacious, and then creeping up the 
wall or plant, and joining its threads as it 
proceeds, it darts itself in a very surprising 
manner to the opposite place, where the 
other end of the web is to be fastened.— 
The first thread thus formed, drawrn tight 
and fixed at each end, the spider then runs 
upon it backward and forward, still assidu¬ 
ously employed in doubling and strength¬ 
ening it, as upon its force depends the 
strength and stability of the whole. The 
scaffolding thus completed, the spider makes 
a number of threads parallel to the first in 
the same manner, and then crosses them 
w'ith others; the clammy substance of which 
they are formed serving to bind them, when 
newly made, to each other. 
The insect, after this operation, doubles 
and trebles the thread that borders its web 
by opening all its teats at once, and secures 
the edges so as to prevent the wind from 
blowing the work away. The edges being 
thus fortified, the retreat is to be attended 
to; and this is formed like a funnel at the 
bottom of the web, where the little creature 
lies concealed. To this are two passages or 
outlets, one above and the other below, 
very artfully contrived, to give it an oppor¬ 
tunity of making excursions at proper sea¬ 
sons, of prying into every corner, and clean¬ 
ing those parts which are observed to be 
clogged or encumbered. Still attentive to 
its web, the spider, .from time to time, cleans 
away the dust that gathers round it, which 
might otherwise clog or incommode it; for 
this purpose, it gives the whole a shake 
with its paws; still, however, proportioning 
the blow so as not to endanger the fabric. 
It often happens also, that from the main 
web, there are several threads extended at 
some distance on every side; these are in 
some measure, the outworks of the fortifi¬ 
cation, which, whenever touched from with¬ 
out, the spider prepares for attack or self- 
defence. If the insect impinging be a fly, 
it springs forward with great agility; if, on 
the contrary, it be the assault of an enemy 
stronger than itself, it keeps within its for¬ 
tress, and never ventures out till the danger 
be over. Another advantage which the spi¬ 
der reaps from the contrivance of a cell, or 
retreat behind the web, is that it serves for 
a place where the creature can feast upon 
The writings of Clement, of Alexandria, who lived du¬ 
ring the second century of the Christian era, contains a 
hymn supposed to be the earliest Christian hymn extant, 
and was probably written in the time of the apostles. The 
following version will give some idea of its spirit: 
■Shepherd of tender youth, 
Guiding in love and truth 
Through devious ways; 
Christ, our triumphant king, 
We come thy name to sing, 
And here our children bring, 
To shout thy praise. 
Thou art wisdom’s high priest, 
Tlidh hast prepared the feast 
Of holy love; 
And in our mortal pain, 
Votle calls on thee in vain, 
Help thou dost not disdain. 
Help from above. 
Thou art our holy Lord, 
The all subduing Word, 
Healer of strife. 
Thou didst thyself abase, 
That from sin’s deep disgrace. 
Thou mightest save our race. 
And give us life. 
Ever be thus our guide, 
Our Shepherd, and our pride. 
Our staff and song; 
Jesus, thou Christ of God. 
By thy perennial word, 
Lead us where thou hast trod. 
Make our faith strong. 
So now, and till we die, 
Sound we thy praises high. 
And joyful sing; 
Infants, and the glad throng, 
Who to thy church belong, 
Unite and swell the tong, 
To Christ our King. 
OUR OWN CONSEQUENCE. 
its game with all safety, and conceal the 
fragments of those carcasses which it has 
picked, without exposing to public view the 
least trace of barbarity, that might create 
a suspicion in any insects that their enemy 
was near.” 
pletion of what is declared complete, finished, 
built,” constructed. Whenever “a verb de¬ 
notes continuous action, being may be properly 
applied to it, as consentaneous with the action of 
the verb: as being feared, expressive of a continu¬ 
ous condition.” The house spoken of, is either 
built, or it is not built. If built, then, why use 
the form of words signifying, that it is not built? 
—that is to say, if a solecistic phrase can be said 
to signify any thing—if not built, then why uso 
the word, built? Built may be and is used with 
auxiliaries denoting future time—as, a house will 
be built, (not will be being built, nor will be build¬ 
ing built,) or as we say in the present time the 
house is built, if completed, or is building, if in a 
state of progress toward completion. 
Again: the perfect participle is used both ac¬ 
tively and passively; e. g., he had loved his wife 
—his wife was loved by him. If this form of the 
verb, or the perfect participle can be used both ac¬ 
tively and passively, why may not the imperfect 
participle be used in the same, or a similar sense? 
e. g., if it is desirable to make the agent more 
prominent than the thing done, or doing, tho wri¬ 
ter, or speaker would employ the active voice, as 
Osburn is building the house; or if it is desirable 
to change the order, theu the passive voice would 
be employed; as, the house is building. 
Take the form of speech, “I am loved,”— 
what advantage is gained by introducing the sole¬ 
cistic as well as uneuphonious form—“ lam being 
loved.” The former phrase is passive, but the 
latter is any thing but passivo to the ear of him 
who is a lover of litorary harmony, to say nothing 
of pure English. When a person says, “I am 
loved,” what does he mean to say? Does he not 
clearly convey tho impression that he is in the con¬ 
dition of receiving the continuous, and indefinitely 
so, (so far as the expression is concerned,) exercise 
of the affection named? If so, and we do not be¬ 
lieve that any one will deny it, then what more is 
intended to be conveyed by the phrase, “ 1 nin 
being loved?” If the phrase as employed by 
those who use it, cannot imply any thing more 
than the other, as it does not, they themselves be- 
ii>g judges, then why employ three words,—to say 
nothing of the inelegancy,—to give utterance to 
what is much more forcibly expressed by two?— 
Wo have thus, though briefly, attempted to prove 
that the phraseology under consideration, is philo- 
logically, “ philosophically, and analogically” dc 
fective, and, ergo, cannot he, as it is not, inten¬ 
tionally used by the best English writers. Dr. 
Beattie, notwithstanding “his regrets,” writes 
without scruple, “ Actions that are now peiform¬ 
ing.” 
Notwithstanding the high praise that is bestow¬ 
ed on Dr. Webster as a “standard,” by our cor¬ 
respondent, he repudiates the Doctor’s orthography 
in writing as above, as do nearly all who praise 
hi in as a standard. The Doctor is not our stand¬ 
ard in cither, orthography or orthoepy. We are 
an eclectic in this malter. What H. quotes from 
the Rural was not written by his “ opponent.” 
—[Ed. Educational Department. 
Dr. Darwin was of opinion that if a deaf 
person dreamed of hearing, the internal 
parts, essential to the function, were unim¬ 
paired. The same remark, says Dr. Smith, 
of Boston, is applicable to the blind. I 
have invariably found that the incurably 
deaf, as well as incurably blind, never dream 
of hearing or seeing. 
We think of our own consequence; our 
talents; our entertainments. We think 
what a breacli tflll be made when we die. 
We think of the mourners who will gather 
round us with their broken hearts. We 
think of the solemn, sad procession that will 
go with us to the tomb:—forgetting how 
seldom it is that the hearts of any consid¬ 
erable portion of a funeral procession are 
serious and solemn at all, or care anything 
»bout the dead. We look at our own aL 
fairs and press them forward, as if every¬ 
thing else should give way to them, and as 
if the world had no interest so great that 
they may not be required to yield to our 
convenience. 
Now, how contrary all this is to truth and 
reality, it is hardly necessary to attempt to 
show. Few will care about it when we die; 
and the world at large will care nothing 
and know nothing about it. A very little 
circle of friends will be affected—as a little 
circle of water is agitated when a drop of 
rain falls into the ocean. At the centre of 
that small circle of friends, there will be 
some deep emotion, some tears of genuine 
grief will be shed; at a very little distance, 
the emotion will be fainter and feebler, at 
a point but a little more remote there will 
be none, and soon, very soon, all the agita¬ 
tion there was will have died away, as 
when the little drops of rain fall into the 
ocean. 
The gay will laugh, 
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care, 
Plod on, and each one as before wiil chase 
His favorite phantom. 
A few friends will go and bury us; and 
then they will turn away to their own con¬ 
cerns, forgetful that we are sleeping in the 
grave. Affection will rear a stone and 
plant a few flowers over our grave —but 
the hand that reared the stone or planted 
>theflowers, will soon become unable todeep- 
en the letters as they are obliterated, or 
to cultivate the flowers—and in a brief pe¬ 
riod the little hillock will be smoothed down, 
and the stone will fall, and neither friend 
nor stranger will be concerned to ask which 
one of the forgotten millions of the earth 
was buried there. No “ Old Mortality ” 
will go to cut again those effaced words 
which told our name, and the time of our 
birth and of our death. Every vestige 
that we ever lived upon the earth, will have 
vanished away. All the little memorials of 
our remembrance—the lock of hair encased 
in gold, or the portrait that hung in our 
dwelling, will cease to have the slightest 
value to any living being, nor will even mo¬ 
mentary curiosity be excited to know who 
wore that hair, or whose countenance is de¬ 
lineated there. 
On my grassy gravo 
The men of future times wiil cureless tread, 
And rend iny name upon I he sculptured stone; 
Nor will the sound f uni liar to their eqrs, 
Recall my vanished memory. 
— Rev. Albert Barnes. 
A Beautiful Picture.— A mother teach¬ 
ing her child to pray, is an object at once 
the most sublime and tender the imagina¬ 
tion can conceive. Elevated above earth¬ 
ly things she seems like one of those guar¬ 
dian angels the companions of our earthly 
pilgrimage, through whose ministrations 
we are inclined to do good and turn from 
evil. 
All virtues are in agreement; all vices 
are at variance. 
It is the perfection of holiness to do what 
God loves and love what God does. 
