, or the fear of
being called ignorant. From that unhappy reverie I recal your minds, by
saying _apple_. An apple? where? There is none in sight. No; but you
have distinct recollections of a single object I just now held before
you. You see it, mentally, and were you painters you might paint its
likeness. What has brought this object so vividly before you? The single
sound _apple_. This sound has called up the idea produced in your mind
on looking at this object which I now again present before you. Here is
the thing represented--the apple. Again I lay it aside, and commence a
conversation with you on the varieties of apples, the form, color,
flavor, manner of production, their difference from other fruit, where
found, when, and by whom. Here! look again. What do you see?
A-P-P-L-E--_Apple_. What is that? The representation of the idea
produced in the mind by a certain object you saw a little while ago.
Here then you have the spoken and written signs of this single object I
now again present to your vision. This idea may also be called up by the
sense of feeling, smelling, or tasting, under certain restrictions. Here
you would be no more liable to be mistaken than by seeing. We can indeed
imagine things which would feel, and smell, and taste, and look some
like an apple, but it falls to the lot of more abstruse reasoners to
make their suppositions, and then account for them--to imagine things,
and then treat of them as realities. We are content with the knowledge
of things as they do exist, and think there is little danger of
mistaking a potato for an apple, or a squash for a pear. Tho in the dark
we may lay hold of the Frenchman's _pomme de terre_--apple of the earth,
the first bite will satisfy us of our mistake if we are not too
metaphysical.

The same idea may be called up in your minds by a picture of the apple
presented to your sight. On this ground the picture writing of the
ancients may be accounted for; and after that, the hieroglyphics of
Egypt and other countries, which was but a step from picture writing
towards the use of the alphabet. But these signs or vehicles for the
conveyance or transmission of their thoughts, compared with the present
perfect state of language, were as aukward and uncomly as the carriages
employed for the conveyance of their bodies were compared with those now
in use. They were like ox carts drawn by mules, compared with the most
splendid barouches drawn by elegant dapple-greys.

A