those ideas_
to others.

On these obvious principles rest the whole superstructure of all
language, spoken or written. Objects are presented to the mind,
impressions are there made, which, retained, constitute the idea, and,
by agreement, certain words are employed as the future signs or
representations of those ideas. If we saw an object in early life and
knew its _name_, the mention of that name will recal afresh the idea
which had long lain dormant in the memory, (if I may so speak,) and we
can converse about it as correctly as when we first saw it.

These principles, I have said, hold good in all languages. Proof of this
may not improperly be offered here, provided it be not too prolix. I
will endeavor to be brief.

In an open area of sufficient dimensions is congregated a delegation
from every language under heaven. All are so arranged as to face a
common center. A white horse is led into that spot and all look at the
living animal which stands before them. The same impression must be made
on all minds so far as a single animal is concerned. But as the whole is
made up of parts, so their minds will soon diverge from a single idea,
and one will think of his size, compared with other horses; another of
his form; another of his color. Some will think of his noble appearance,
others of his ability to travel, or (in jockey phrase) his _speed_. The
farrier will look for his blemishes, to see if he is _sound_, and the
jockey at his teeth, to _guess_ at his _age_. The anatomist will, in
thought, dissect him into parts and see every bone, sinew, cartilage,
blood vessel, his stomach, lungs, liver, heart, entrails; every part
will be laid open; and while the thoughtless urchin sees a single
object--a white horse--others will, at a single glance, read volumes of
instruction. Oh! the importance of knowledge! how little is it
regarded! What funds of instruction might be gathered from the lessons
every where presented to the mind!

One impression would be made on all minds in reference to the single
tangible object before them; no matter how learned or ignorant. There
stands an animal obvious to all. Let him be removed out of sight, and a
very exact picture of him suspended in his place. All again agree. Here
then is the proof of our first general principle, viz. all language
depends on the fixed and unvarying laws of nature.

Let the picture be removed and a man step forth and pronounce the word,
_ippos_. The Greek starts