“I wish you to believe, that I would not wilfully hurt a fly.”  Here, in the opinion of H. Tooke, our modern conjunction that, is merely a demonstrative adjective, in a disguised form; and he attempts to prove it by the following resolution:  “I would not wilfully hurt a fly.  I wish you to believe that [assertion.”] Now, if we admit, that that is an adjective in the latter construction, it does not necessarily follow, that it is the same part of speech, nor that its associated meaning is precisely the same, in the former construction.  Instead of expressing our ideas in two detached sentences, by the former phraseology we have a quicker and closer transition of thought, and both the mode of employing that, and its inferential meaning, are changed.  Moreover, if we examine the meaning of each of these constructions, taken as a whole, we shall find, that they do not both convey the same ideas.  By the latter, I assert, positively, that “I would not wilfully hurt a fly:”  whereas, by the former, I merely wish you to believe that “I would not wilfully hurt a fly;” but I do not affirm, that as a fact.

That being the past part, of thean, to get, take, assume, by rendering it as a participle, instead of an adjective, we should come nearer to its primitive character.  Thus, “I would not wilfully hurt a fly.  I wish you to believe the assumed [fact or statement;] or, the fact assumed or taken.”

If, (formerly written gif, give, gin,) as previously stated, is the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon verb gifan, to give.  In imitation of Horne Tooke, some of our modern philosophical writers are inclined to teach pupils to render it as a verb.  Thus, “I will go, if he will accompany me:”—­“He will accompany me. Grant—­give that [fact] I will go.”  For the purpose of ascertaining the primitive meaning of this word, I have no objection to such a resolution; but, by it, do we get the exact meaning and force of if as it is applied in our modern, refined state of the language?  I trow not.  But, admitting we do, does this prove that such a mode of resolving sentences can be advantageously adopted by learners in common schools?  I presume it can not be denied, that instead of teaching the learner to express himself correctly in modern English, such a resolution is merely making him familiar with an ancient and barbarous construction which modern refinement has rejected.  Our forefathers, I admit, who were governed by those laws of necessity which compel all nations in the early and rude state of their language, to express themselves in short, detached sentences, employed if as a verb when they used the following circumlocution:  “My son will reform. Give that fact.  I will forgive him.”  But in the present, improved state of our language, by using if