act tree, but only languages in various
stages of growth, maturity, and decay. Nor do other logical distinctions
or even grammatical exactly correspond to the facts of language; for
they too are attempts to give unity and regularity to a subject which is
partly irregular.

We find, however, that there are distinctions of another kind by which
this vast field of language admits of being mapped out. There is the
distinction between biliteral and triliteral roots, and the various
inflexions which accompany them; between the mere mechanical cohesion of
sounds or words, and the 'chemical' combination of them into a new word;
there is the distinction between languages which have had a free and
full development of their organisms, and languages which have been
stunted in their growth,--lamed in their hands or feet, and never able
to acquire afterwards the powers in which they are deficient; there
is the distinction between synthetical languages like Greek and Latin,
which have retained their inflexions, and analytical languages like
English or French, which have lost them. Innumerable as are the
languages and dialects of mankind, there are comparatively few classes
to which they can be referred.

Another road through this chaos is provided by the physiology of speech.
The organs of language are the same in all mankind, and are only capable
of uttering a certain number of sounds. Every man has tongue, teeth,
lips, palate, throat, mouth, which he may close or open, and adapt in
various ways; making, first, vowels and consonants; and secondly, other
classes of letters. The elements of all speech, like the elements of
the musical scale, are few and simple, though admitting of infinite
gradations and combinations. Whatever slight differences exist in the
use or formation of these organs, owing to climate or the sense of
euphony or other causes, they are as nothing compared with their
agreement. Here then is a real basis of unity in the study of philology,
unlike that imaginary abstract unity of which we were just now speaking.

Whether we regard language from the psychological, or historical,
or physiological point of view, the materials of our knowledge are
inexhaustible. The comparisons of children learning to speak, of
barbarous nations, of musical notes, of the cries of animals, of the
song of birds, increase our insight into the nature of human speech.
Many observations which would otherwise have escaped us are suggested by