idiosphaerotheca, the archoplasmic vesicle; but the idioectosome disappears in the metamorphosis of the spermatid into a sphere, the idiophtharosome. The separation of the calyptosome from the cryptosome antedates the transformation of the idiosphaerotheca into the spermiocalyptrotheca.

But maybe the writer of this was discussing something that should be kept from the ears of the layman. If so, his secret is safe. If the Bolsheviks could only evolve a sociological vocabulary to match this, they could propagandize to their heart's content without fear of detection.

The second example of the scientist's pellucid and prismatic English has to do with a homelier subject. It runs as follows:

In our precious cabbage-patches the holo

metabolous insecta are the hosts of parasitic polyembryonic hymenoptera, upon the prevalence of which rests the psychic and somatic stamina of our fellow-countrymen; for the larvae of Pieris brassicae, vulgarly cabbagebutterfly, are parasitiased by the Apantales glomeratus, which in turn has a hyperparasite, the Mesochorus pallidus. It is tragic to think that the fate of a plant, the dietetic and pharmaceutical virtues of which have been so extolled by Cato, and upon which two of my Plinean colleags of uncertain date, Chrysippus and Dieuches, wrote monographs-it fills one with terror to think that a crop so dear to Hodge (et veris cymata! the Brussels sprouts of Columella) should depend on the deposition in the ovum of the Pieris of another polyembryonic egg. The cytoplasm or oöplasm of this forms a trophoamnion.

Now that that is clear, let us pass on to certain reflections that suggest themselves. These quotations were chosen because they are extreme examples of the scientist's jargon. It is not from the laboratory alone, however, that we hear these unintelligible expositions—that is, unintelligible to any one save an expert in the particular field discussed. The sociologist frequently sins as glaringly

as the biologist. There is no justification of an over-technical vocabulary in the writing of any book on sociology or economics or in the writing of any scientific discussion that is supposed to be read by others than doctors of philosophy.

Clergymen need a new vocabulary as badly as scientists. Too frequently, sermons are preached in a language that is about as far from the vocabulary of the pew-holder as Greek would be. We are likely to forget that the men who wrote the Old and the New Testament were speaking and writing the language of their time. They used the thoughtforms and language-forms of their day and generation. Isaiah and Paul would use an entirely different vocabulary today. And yet clergyman after clergyman persists in talking to the men and women of 1921 in the thought-forms and

language-forms used by Isaiah and Paul. All meaning, in the sense of meaning something to the hearer, has gone out of most of the traditional When the phrases of the church.

clergyman persists in using words and phrases which are simply the sloughedoff skins of ideas, his whole ministry is robbed of vitality, and the blight of unreality rests upon his pulpit utterances. I do not mean that prayer can be couched in the language of the counting-room, but the blight of dead phrases rests even upon the prayers of the church. Even a hasty reading of the little volume of prayers written by Walter Rauschenbush will show the added vitality a modernized and humanized vocabulary would bring to public prayer in the church. But it is in the pulpit that the ancient vocabulary, with its theological and philosophical jargon, is deadly. If to-morrow every clergyman in America should drop every traditional phrase that he would not coin naturally in an attempt to speak to men and women here and now, and would speak naturally and simply, I believe that America would be swept by a genuine "revival" of Christianity.

MW