at this day? Many of even the most "advanced thinkers," who reject the supernatural element of the Bible, put all religions upon the same level, and deem Shakespeare as truly inspired as the Apostles, style themselves "Christians."

Even in science happy names have had much to do with the general reception of truth. "Hardly any original thoughts on mental or social subjects," says a writer, ever make their way among mankind, or assume their proper proportions even in the minds of their inventors, until aptly selected words or phrases have, as it were, nailed them down and held them fast." How much is the study of the beautiful science of botany hindered by such "lexical superfetations" as chrysanthemum leukanthemum, Myosotis scorpioeides,-" scorpion-shaped mouse's ear"; and how much is that of astronomy promoted by such popular terms as "the bear," "the serpent," "the milky way"! How much knowledge is gathered up in the compact and easily remembered phrase, "correlation of forces"; and to what an extent the wide diffusion of Darwin's speculations is owing to two or three felicitous and comprehensive terms, such as "the struggle for existence," "survival of the fittest," "the process of natural selection"! Who that has felt the painfulness of doubt has not desired to know something of "the positive philosophy" of Comte? On the other hand, the well-known anatomist, Professor Owen, complains with just reason of the embarrassments produced in his science by having to use a long description instead of a name. Thus a particular bone is called by Soemmering "pars occipitalis stricte sic dicta partis occipitalis ossis

spheno-occipitalis," a description so clumsy that only the direst necessity would lead one to use it.

Even great authors, who are supposed to have "sovereign sway and masterdom" over words, are often bewitched and led captive by them. Thus Southey, Coleridge and Wordsworth were bent on establishing their Pantisocracy on the banks of the Susquehanna, not because they knew anything of that locality, but because Susquehanna was "such a pretty name." Again, to point an epigram or give edge to a sarcasm, a writer will stab a rising reputation as with a poniard; and, even when convicted of misrepresentation, will sooner stick to the lie than part with a jeu d'esprit, or forego a verbal felicity. Thus Byron, alluding to Keats's death, which was supposed to have been caused by Gifford's savage criticism in the "Quarterly," said:

"Strange that the soul, that very fiery particle,
Should let itself be snuffed out by an article!"

Though he was afterward informed of the untruth of these lines, Byron, plethoric as he was with poetic wealth and wit, could not willingly let them die; and so the witticism yet remains to mislead and provoke the laughter of his readers.

Again, there are authors who, to meet the necessities of rhyme, or to give music to a period, will pad out their sentences with meaningless expletives. They employ words as carpenters put false windows into houses; not to let in light upon their meaning, but for symmetry. Or, perhaps, they imagine that a certain degree of distension of the intellectual stomach is required to enable it to act with its full powers,-just as some of the Russian peasantry mix sawdust with the train oil they drink, or as

hay and straw, as well as corn, are given to horses, to supply the necessary bulk. Thus Dr. Johnson, imitating Juvenal, says:

"Let observation, with extensive view,
Survey mankind from China to Peru."

This, a lynx-eyed critic contended, was equivalent to saying: "Let observation, with extensive observation, observe mankind extensively." If the Spartans, as we are told, fined a citizen because he used three words where two would have done as well, how would they have punished such prodigality of language?

It is an impressive truth which has often been noticed by moralists, that indulgence in verbal vice speedily leads to corresponding vices in conduct. If a man talk of any mean, sensual, or criminal practice in a familiar or flippant tone, the delicacy of his moral sense is almost sure to be lessened, he loses his horror of the vice, and, when tempted to do the deed, he is far more likely to yield. Many a man, without dreaming of such a result, has thus talked himself into vice, into sensuality, and even into ruin. The apostle James was so impressed with the significance of speech that he regarded it as an unerring sign of character. "If any man offend not in word," he declares," the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole body." Again he declares that "the tongue is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison"; commenting upon which, Rev. F. W. Robertson observes: "The deadliest poisons are those for which no test is known; there are poisons so destructive that a single drop insinuated into the veins produces death in three seconds. In that drop of venom which distils from the sting of the smallest insect, or the spikes of the nettle-leaf,