rases
should be studied as symbols of ideas, and as we become thoroughly
familiar with them they will play an unconscious but effective part in our
daily expression.

We acquire our vocabulary largely from our reading and our personal
associates. The words we use are an unmistakable indication of our thought
habits, tastes, ideals, and interests in life. In like manner, the
habitual language of a people is a barometer of their intellectual, civil,
moral, and spiritual ideals. A great and noble people express themselves
in great and noble words.

Ruskin earnestly counsels us to form the habit of looking intensely at
words. We should scrutinize them closely and endeavor to grasp their
innermost meaning. There is an indefinable satisfaction in knowing how to
choose and use words with accuracy and precision. As Fox once said, "I am
never at a loss for a word, but Pitt always has the word."

All the great writers and orators have been diligent students of words.
Demosthenes and Cicero were indefatigable in their study of language.
Shakespeare, "infinite in faculty," took infinite pains to embody his
thought in words of crystal clearness. Coleridge once said of him that
one might as well try to dislodge a brick from a building with one's
forefinger as to omit a single word from one of his finest passages.

Milton, master of majestic prose, under whose touch words became as living
things; Flaubert, who believed there was one and one only best word with
which to express a given thought; De Quincey, who exercised a weird-like
power over words; Ruskin, whose rhythmic prose enchanted the ear; Keats,
who brooded over phrases like a lover; Newman, of pure and melodious
style; Stevenson, forever in quest of the scrupulously precise word;
Tennyson, graceful and exquisite as the limpid stream; Emerson, of
trenchant and epigrammatic style; Webster, whose virile words sometimes
weighed a pound; and Lincoln, of simple, Saxon speech,--all these
illustrious men were assiduous in their study of words.

Many persons of good education unconsciously circumscribe themselves
within a small vocabulary. They have a knowledge of hundreds of desirable
words which they do not put into practical use in their speech or writing.
Many, too, are conscious of a poverty of language, which engenders in them
a sense of timidity and self-depreciation. The method used for building a
large vocabulary has usually been confined to the study of single words.
Th