ON THE MANUSCRIPTS OF GOD 



some word, or group of words, as delicately 

 adapted to their expression as are the pinions 

 of a bird to its weight and the apex of its 

 flight. Even for the finest fringes of fancy, 

 thought, and feeling, the half inarticulate 

 murmurs of the spirit, man can conjure from 

 syllables and words an ethereal embodiment 

 matching his mental content as its fragrant 

 petals match the soul of a rose. With its 

 ever recurring additions from every age and 

 race, and the individual impress of single 

 great spirits upon it, language is the com- 

 posite psychological photograph of the hu- 

 man race. Or, to change the figure, it is a 

 psychological scale for mental and emotional 

 weights and measures, more delicately ad- 

 justable than any used by chemist or apothe- 

 cary. 



By means of a vowel, consonant, or syl- 

 lable, more or less, an adjective, adverb, or 

 exclamation, man weighs his thoughts and 

 feelings as he has learned to weigh the 

 heavenly bodies. When no word or sentence 

 in its literal sense meets his need, he calls 

 upon his Ariel-like faculty, the imagination, 



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