tion to the wants of the community, and how they may be correctly
and successfully employed. Grammar considered in this light forms a
department in the science of the mind by no means unimportant. And it
can not fail to be deeply interesting to all who would employ it in the
business, social, literary, moral, or religious concerns of life. Those
who have thoughts to communicate, or desire an acquaintance with the
minds of others, can not be indifferent to the means on which such
intercourse depends. I am convinced, therefore, that you will give me
your most profound attention as I pursue the subject of the present
lecture somewhat in detail. And I hope you will not consider me tedious
or unnecessarily prolix in my remarks.

I will not be particular in my remarks upon the changes of spoken and
written language, altho that topic of itself, in the different sounds
and signs employed in different ages and by different nations to express
the same idea, would form a most interesting theme for several lectures.
But that work must be reserved for a future occasion. You are all
acquainted with the signs, written and spoken, which are employed in our
language as vehicles (some of them like omnibusses) of thought to carry
ideas from one mind to another. Some of you doubtless are acquainted
with the application of this fact in other languages. In other words,
you know how to sound the name of a thing, how to describe its
properties as far as you understand them, and its attitudes or changes.
This you can do by vocal sounds, or written, or printed signs.

On the other hand, you can receive a similar impression by hearing the
description of another, or by seeing it written or printed. But here you
will bear in mind the fact that the word, spoken or written, is but the
sign of the idea derived from the thing signified. For example: Here is
an apple. I do not now speak of its composition, the skin, the pulp,
&c.; nor of its qualities, whether sour, or sweet, or bitter, good or
bad, great or small, long or short, round or flat, red, or white, or
yellow. I speak of a single thing--an apple. Here it is, present before
you. Look at it. It is now removed. You do not see it. Your minds are
occupied with something else, in looking at that organ, or this
representation of Solomon's temple, or, perhaps, lingering in melancholy
review of your old systems of grammar thro which you plodded at a
tedious rate, goaded on by the stimulus of the ferule