“―― ―― That one the names of things contrived, And that from him their knowledge all derived, ‘Tis fond to think.”[33] As long as the language lives in the mouth of a nation, the words are a progressive production and reproduction of the faculty to form words. In this manner only can we explain, without having recourse to a supernatural cause, how millions of men can agree to use the same words for every object, the same locution for every feeling. Language in general is the sensible exterior vestment of thought; it is the product of the intelligence, and the expression of the character of mankind; in particular it may be considered as the exterior manifestation of the genius of nations: their language is their genius, and their genius is their language. We see of what use the investigation of idioms may be in tracing the affinities of nations. History and geography must be taken as guides in the researches upon tongues; but these researches would be futile, if languages were the irregular product of hazard. No: profound feeling and immediate clearness of vivid intuition act with wonderful regularity, and follow an unerring analogy. The genesis of languages may be assimilated to that of works of genius――I mean, of that creative faculty which gives rules to an art. Thus is it the language which dictates the grammar. Moreover, the utmost perfection of which an idiom is susceptible is a line like that of beauty, which, once attained, can never be surpassed. This was the case with some ancient tongues. Since that time, mankind appear to have lost a faculty or a talent, inasmuch as they are no more actuated by that urgency of keen feeling which was the very principle of the high perfection of those languages. Comparative philology, a new science, sprung up within the last thirty years, but already grown to an unforeseen perfection, has fixed the principles by which the affinities of languages may be known, even among the apparently irregular disparities which various circumstances and revolutions of the different nations have created. This would have been impossible, if there did not exist a fundamental philosophy of language, however concealed, and a certain consistency, even in the seemingly most irregular modification of dialect, for instance, in that of pronunciation. But, even the permutation of letters in different and the most rude dialects, has its rules, and follows, within its own compass, a spontaneous analogy, such as is indispensable for the easy and common practice of a society more or less numerous. Thus sounds, grammatical forms, and even graphical signs of language have been subjected to analysis and comparison; the significant radical letters have been distinguished from the merely accidental letters, and a distinction has been established between what is fundamental, and what is merely historical and accidental. From these considerations I conclude: