The first aim of the elders was to clear it of coarse or vulgar suggestion. But, as they proceeded, they found their horizon widen; and the intricacies, ambiguities, and pitfalls showed themselves the most serious evils of all. It became absolutely necessary, if they were to have a clear and unrefractive medium of expression, to give a definite meaning to every word, and to have one word for every meaning or shade of meaning. The task extended itself through years. But then they knew that, until it was thoroughly done, their science would be like shifting clouds, and their progress would be over quicksands. If their language was treacherous, their civilisation was but a mirage. So they toiled on sustained by the hope that they were making sure their footsteps in the pursuit of truth. When their work was done, they found it was only begun. For it took a generation to make the new and purified language the natural medium of the whole people, and by that time new sub-meanings had crept into most of the common words, and new shadings had discoloured most of the everyday phraseology. The new and less used words, and the purely technical and scientific words stood where they were. Everything that lived had shifted ground. Everything that was purely artificial and had taken no root had remained as it began, had been in short petrified. It was clear that with living language there must be perpetual vigilance and superintendence. And the whole people had to become a council for the preservation of its purity and translucence. Every citizen set a watch upon his words, as he used them from day to day or as he heard them used, and reported any drift in the sense and any new shade of meaning; and after deliberation in council and careful consideration by the elders a new form was moulded for each new signification. This form had to pass the ordeal of universal use for some time, and if it stood the test, it was finally accepted as part of the language.