text_original: 'Truth,' he says in this letter, 'is one and poor, like the cruse of Elijah's widow. Imagination is the bold face that multiplies its oil: and thou, the old cracked pipkin, that could not believe it could be put to such purposes.' It was to his correspondents, indeed to the incitement of their wakeful friendship, that he owes more perhaps than the mere materials of his miracles.
text_transcription: TRUTH HE SAYS IN HIS LETTER IS ONE AND POOR LIKE THE CRUISE OF ELIJAH'S WIDOW IMAGINATION IS THE BOLD FACE THAT MULTIPLIES ITS OIL AND THOU THE OLD CRACKED PINKIN THAT COULD NOT BELIEVE IT COULD BE PUT TO SUCH PURPOSES IT WAS TO HIS CORRESPONDENTS INDEED TO THE EXCITEMENT OF THEIR WAKEFUL FRIENDSHIP THAT HE OWES MORE PERHAPS THAN THE MERE MATERIALS OF HIS MIRACLES
phonemes: tɹˈuːθ,hiː sˈɛz ɪn ðɪs lˈɛɾɚ, ɪz wˈʌn ænd pˈʊɹ, lˈaɪk ðə kɹˈuːs ʌv ᵻlˈaɪdʒəz wˈɪdoʊ. ɪmˌædʒᵻnˈeɪʃən ɪz ðə bˈoʊld fˈeɪs ðæt mˌʌltɪplˈaɪz ɪts ˈɔɪl: ænd ðˈaʊ, ðɪ ˈoʊld kɹˈækt pˈɪpkɪn, ðæt kʊd nˌɑːt bᵻlˈiːv ɪt kʊd biː pˌʊt tə sˈʌtʃ pˈɜːpəsᵻz.ɪt wʌz tə hɪz kˌɔːɹɪspˈɑːndənts, ˌɪndˈiːd tə ðɪ ɪnsˈaɪtmənt ʌv ðɛɹ wˈeɪkfəl fɹˈɛndʃɪp, ðæt hiː ˈoʊz mˈɔːɹ pɚhˈæps ðɐn ðə mˈɪɹ mətˈɪɹiəlz ʌv hɪz mˈɪɹəkəlz.