lutionized biology and influenced all scientific thought of the century, may be said to be that all existing species of animals arose by gradual development from a few primordial forms, through an accumulation

of minute variations and through 'natural selection', and that the organisms best fitted for surrounding circumstances survived, while the weaker disappeared in the 'struggle for existence'.

This faculty has justly been considered as one of the chief distinctions between man and the lower animals. But man, as a highly comь petent judge, Archbishop Whately remarks, 'is not the only animal that can make use of language to express what is passing in his mind, and can understand, more or less, what 10 is so expressed by another.' In Paraguay the Cebus axare when excited utters at least six distinct sounds, which excite in other monkeys similar emotions. The movements of the 15 features and gestures of monkeys are understood by us, and they partly understand ours, as Rengger and others declare. It is a more remarkable fact that the dog, since being 20 domesticated, has learnt to bark in at least four or five distinct tones. Although barking is a new art, no doubt the wild species, the parents of the dog, expressed their feelings 25 by cries of various kinds. With the domesticated dog we have the bark of eagerness, as in the chase; that of anger; the yelping or howling bark of despair, as when shut up; 30 that of joy, as when starting on a walk with his master; and the very distinct one of demand or supplication, as when wishing for a door or window to be opened.

35

Articulate language is, however, peculiar to man; but he uses in common with the lower animals inarticulate cries to express his meaning, aided by gestures and the movements 40 of the muscles of the face. This

especially holds good with the more simple and vivid feelings, which are but little connected with our higher intelligence. Our cries of pain, fear, surprise, anger, together with their 45 appropriate actions, and the murmur of a mother to her beloved child, are more expressive than any words. It is not the mere power of articulation that distinguishes man from other 50 animals, for as every one knows, parrots can talk; but it is his large power of connecting definite sounds with definite ideas; and this obviously depends on the development of the 55 mental faculties.

As Horne Tooke, one of the founders of the noble science of philology, observes, language is an art, like brewing or baking; but writ- 60 ing would have been a much more appropriate simile. It certainly is not a true instinct, as every language has to be learnt. It differs, however, widely from all ordinary arts, 65 for man has an instinctive tendency to speak, as we see in the babble of our young children; whilst no child has an instinctive tendency to brew, bake, or write. Moreover, no philo- 70 logist now supposes that any language has been deliberately invented; each has been slowly and unconsciously developed by many steps. The sounds uttered by birds offer in several 76 respects the nearest analogy to language, for all the members of the same species utter the same instinctive cries expressive of their emotions; and all the kinds that have the 80

power of singing exert this power instinctively; but the actual song, and even the call-notes, are learnt from their parents or foster-parents. 85 These sounds, as Daines Barrington has proved, 'are no more innate than language is in man. The first attempts to sing may be compared to the imperfect endeavour in a child 90 to babble.' The young males continue practising, or, as the bird-catchers say, recording, for ten or eleven months. Their first essays show hardly a rudiment of the future song; 95 but as they grow older we can perceive what they are aiming at; and at last they are said to sing their song round.' Nestlings which have learnt the song of a distinct species, 100 as with the canary-birds educated in the Tyrol, teach and transmit their new song to their offspring. The slight natural differences of song in the same species inhabiting different 105 districts may be appositely compared, as Barrington remarks, 'to provincial dialects;' and the songs of allied, though distinct species may be compared with the languages of distinct 110 races of man. I have given the foregoing details to shew that an instinctive tendency to acquire an art is not a peculiarity confined to man.

With respect to the origin of articu115 late language, after having read on the one side the highly interesting works of Mr. Hensleigh Wedgwood, the Rev. F. Farrar, and Prof. Schleicher, and the celebrated lectures of Prof. 120 Max Müller on the other side, I cannot doubt that language owes its origin to the imitation and modification, aided by signs and gestures, of various natural sounds, the voices of 125 other animals, and man's own instinctive cries. When we treat of sexual selection we shall see that primeval man, or rather some early progenitor of man, probably used his

voice largely, as does one of the 180 gibbon-apes at the present day, in producing true musical cadences, that is in singing; we may conclude from a widely-spread analogy that this power would have been especially 185 exerted during the courtship of the sexes, serving to express various emotions, as love, jealousy, triumph, and serving as a challenge to their rivals. The imitation by articulate sounds 140 of musical cries might have given rise to words expressive of various complex emotions. As bearing on the subject of imitation, the strong tendency in our nearest allies, the 145 monkeys, in microcephalous idiots, and in the barbarous races of mankind, to imitate whatever they hear deserves notice. As monkeys certainly understand much that is said to them 150 by man, and as in a state of nature they utter signal-cries of danger to their fellows, it does not appear altogether incredible, that some unusually wise ape-like animal should have 155 thought of imitating the growl of a beast of prey, so as to indicate to his fellow monkeys the nature of the expected danger. And this would have been a first step in the for- 160 mation of a language.

As the voice was used more and more, the vocal organs would have been strengthened and perfected through the principle of the inherited 165 effects of use; and this would have reacted on the power of speech. But the relation between the continued use of language and the development of the brain has no doubt been 170 far more important. The mental powers in some early progenitor of man must have been more highly developed than in any existing ape, before even the most imperfect form 175 of speech could have come into use; but we may confidently believe that the continued use and advancement

of this power would have reacted on 180 the mind by enabling and encouraging it to carry on long trains of thought. A long and complex train of thought can no more be carried on without the aid of words, whether spoken or 185 silent, than a long calculation without the use of figures or algebra. It appears, also, that even ordinary trains of thought almost require some form of language, for the dumb, deaf, 190 and blind girl, Laura Bridgman, was observed to use her fingers whilst dreaming. Nevertheless a long succession of vivid and connected ideas, may pass through the mind without 196 the aid of any form of language, as we may infer from the prolonged dreams of dogs. We have, also, seen that retriever-dogs are able to reason to a certain extent; and this 200 they manifestly do without the aid of language. The intimate connection between the brain, as it is now developed in us, and the faculty of speech, is well shewn by those curious 205 cases of brain-disease, in which speech is specially affected, as when the power to remember substantives is lost, whilst other words can be correctly used. There is no more im210 probability in the effects of the continued use of the vocal and mental organs being inherited, than in the case of hand-writing, which depends partly on the structure of the hand 215 and partly on the disposition of the mind; and hand-writing is certainly inherited.

Why the organs now used for speech should have been originally 220 perfected for this purpose, rather than any other organs, it is not difficult to see. Ants have considerable powers of intercommunication by means of their antennæ, as shewn by Huber, 225 who devotes a whole chapter to their language. We might have used our fingers as efficient instruments, for

a person with practice can report to a deaf man every word of a speech rapidly delivered at a public meeting; 230 but the loss of our hands, whilst thus employed, would have been a serious inconvenience. As all the higher mammals possess vocal organs constructed on the same general plan 235 with ours, and which are used as a means of communication, it was obviously probable, if the power of communication had to be improved, that these same organs would have been 240 still further developed; and this has been effected by the aid of adjoining and well-adapted parts, namely the tongue and lips. The fact of the higher apes not using their vocal 245 organs for speech, no doubt depends on their intelligence not having been sufficiently advanced. The possession by them of organs, which with long-continued practice might have 250 been used for speech, although not thus used, is paralleled by the case of many birds which possess organs fitted for singing, though they never sing. Thus, the nightingale and crow 255 have vocal organs similarly constructed, these being used by the former for diversified song, and by the latter merely for croaking.

The formation of different lan- 260 guages and of distinct species, and the proofs that both have been developed through a gradual process, are curiously the same. But we can trace the origin of many words further 265 back than in the case of species, for we can perceive that they have arisen from the imitation of various sounds, as in alliterative poetry. We find in distinct languages striking 270 homologies due to community of descent, and analogies due to a similar process of formation. The manner in which certain letters or sounds change when others change is 275 very like correlated growth. We

have in both cases the reduplication of parts, the effects of long-continued use, and so forth. The frequent pres280 ence of rudiments, both in languages

and in species, is still more remarkable. The letter m in the word am, means I; so that in the expression I am, a superfluous and useless 285 rudiment has been retained. In the spelling also of words, letters often remain as the rudiments of ancient forms of pronunciation. Languages, like organic beings, can be classed 290 in groups under groups; and they

can be classed either naturally according to descent, or artificially by other characters. Dominant languages and dialects spread widely and lead 295 to the gradual extinction of other tongues. A language, like a species, when once extinct, never, as Sir C. Lyell remarks, reappears. The same language never has two birth300 places. Distinct languages may be crossed or blended together. We see variability in every tongue, and new words are continually cropping up; but as there is a limit to the powers 305 of the memory, single words, like whole languages, gradually become extinct. As Max Müller has well remarked: 'A struggle for life is constantly going on amongst the 310 words and grammatical forms in each language. The better, the shorter, the easier forms are constantly gaining the upper hand, and they owe their success to their own inherent 315 virtue.' To these more important causes of the survival of certain words, mere novelty may, I think, be added; for there is in the mind of man a strong love for slight 320 changes in all things. The survival The survival or preservation of certain favoured words in the struggle for existence is natural selection.

The perfectly regular and wonder825 fully complex construction of the

languages of many barbarous nations has often been advanced as a proof, either of the divine origin of these languages, or of the high art and former civilisation of their founders. 330 Thus F. von Schlegel writes: 'In those languages which appear to be at the lowest grade of intellectual culture, we frequently observe a very high and elaborate degree of art in 835 their grammatical structure. This is especially the case with the Basque and the Lapponian, and many of the American languages.' But it is assuredly an error to speak of any 340 language as an art in the sense of its having been elaborately and methodically formed. Philologists now admit that conjugations, declensions, &c., originally existed as distinct words, 345 since joined together; and as such words express the most obvious relations between objects and persons, it is not surprising that they should have been used by the men of 350 most races during the earliest ages. With respect to perfection, the following illustration will best shew how easily we may err : a Crinoid sometimes consists of no less than 355 150,000 pieces of shell, all arranged with perfect symmetry in radiating lines; but a naturalist does not consider an animal of this kind as more perfect than a bilateral one 360 with comparatively few parts, and with none of these alike, excepting on the opposite sides of the body. He justly considers the differentiation and specialisation of organs as 965 the the test of perfection. So with languages, the most symmetrical and complex ought not to be ranked above irregular, abbreviated, and bastardised languages, which have 370 borrowed expressive words and useful forms of construction from various conquering, or conquered, or immigrant races.