es of trees, is an
endless profusion and variety. The laws of vegetation are invariable,
but no two plants, no two leaves of the forest are precisely the same.
The laws of language are invariable, but no two languages are alike, no
two words have exactly the same meaning. No two sounds are exactly of
the same quality, or give precisely the same impression.

It would be well if there were a similar consensus about some other
points which appear to be still in dispute. Is language conscious or
unconscious? In speaking or writing have we present to our minds the
meaning or the sound or the construction of the words which we are
using?--No more than the separate drops of water with which we quench
our thirst are present: the whole draught may be conscious, but not the
minute particles of which it is made up: So the whole sentence may be
conscious, but the several words, syllables, letters are not thought of
separately when we are uttering them. Like other natural operations, the
process of speech, when most perfect, is least observed by us. We do
not pause at each mouthful to dwell upon the taste of it: nor has the
speaker time to ask himself the comparative merits of different modes of
expression while he is uttering them. There are many things in the use
of language which may be observed from without, but which cannot be
explained from within. Consciousness carries us but a little way in
the investigation of the mind; it is not the faculty of internal
observation, but only the dim light which makes such observation
possible. What is supposed to be our consciousness of language is
really only the analysis of it, and this analysis admits of innumerable
degrees. But would it not be better if this term, which is so
misleading, and yet has played so great a part in mental science, were
either banished or used only with the distinct meaning of 'attention
to our own minds,' such as is called forth, not by familiar mental
processes, but by the interruption of them? Now in this sense we may
truly say that we are not conscious of ordinary speech, though we are
commonly roused to attention by the misuse or mispronunciation of a
word. Still less, even in schools and academies, do we ever attempt
to invent new words or to alter the meaning of old ones, except in
the case, mentioned above, of technical or borrowed words which are
artificially made or imported because a need of them is felt. Neither in
our own nor in any other age has t