The sister of this child, in the tenth month, applied the word mama to her mother, pap pap and papap to her father, but was less sure in this; tjē-tē were favorite syllables. When asked, "Where is Tick-tack?" she looks at the clock on the wall. A piercing scream is an utterance of joy. In the fifteenth month, Apapa is her word for grandfather, and is roguishly used for grandmother. She says aben for "haben" (have), tatta for "Tante" (aunt), apa (for uppa) means "I want to go up." Her imitation of what is said is very imperfect, but her understanding of it is surprising. In the nineteenth month she makes much use of her hands in gesture instead of speaking. Kuker is her word for "Zucker" (sugar), bildebu for "Bilderbuch" (picture-book). But she habitually calls a book omama or opapa (from the letters of her grandparents). Clara is pronounced clala, Christine, titine. In the twentieth month, her mother, after telling her a story, asked, "Who, pray, is this, I?" and the child replied, "Mamma" "And who is that, you?" "Bertha, Bertha" (the child's name) was the answer. At this period she said, Bertha will; also paren (for fahren, drive), pallen (fallen, fall), bot, (Brot, bread), atig (artig, good, well-behaved), mal (noch einmal, once more), muna (Mund, mouth), aujen (Augen, eyes), ol (Ohr, ear), tirn (Stirn, forehead), wanne (Wange, cheek, and Wanne, bath-tub), aua (August), dute (gute) mama, paesche (Equipage), wasar tinken (Wasser trinken, drink water) dabel (Gabel, fork), luessel (Schluessel, key), is nits (ist nichts, is nothing), mula (Milch, milk), ass (heiss, hot).

Another remarkable observation is the following from the fifteenth month. It reminds one of the behavior of hypnotized adults. On her grandmother's birthday the child said some rhymes that she did not easily remember (there were six short verses, thirty-four words). One night soon after the birthday festival the little girl said off the verses, "almost for the first time without any stumbling, in her sleep."

From this we see how much more quickly in regard to articulation and independent use of words both these girls (the first of whom weighed only six pounds at birth) learned to speak than did Sigismund's boy, my own boy, and others.

Darwin observed (A Biographical Sketch of an Infant in "Mind, a Quarterly Review of Psychology and Philosophy," July, 1877, pp. 285-294) in a son of his, on the forty-seventh day of his life, a formation of sounds without meaning. The child took pleasure in it. The sounds soon became manifold. In the sixth month he uttered the sound da without any meaning; but in the fifth he probably began to try to imitate sounds. In the tenth month the imitation of sounds was unmistakable. In the twelfth he could readily imitate all sorts of actions, such as shaking his head and saying "Ah." He also understood intonations, gestures, several words, and short sentences. When exactly seven months old, the child associated his nurse with her name, so that when it was called out he would look round for her. In the thirteenth month the boy used gestures to explain his wishes; for instance, he picked up a bit of paper and gave it to his father, pointing to the fire, as he had often seen and liked to see paper burned. At exactly the age of a year he called food mum, which also signified "Give me food," and he used this word instead of beginning to cry as formerly. This word with affixes signified particular things to eat; thus shu-mum signified sugar, and a little later licorice was called black-shu-mum. When asking for food by the word mum he gave to it a very strongly marked tone of longing (Darwin says an "interrogatory sound," which should mean the same thing). It is remarkable that my child also, and in the tenth week for the first time, said moemm when he was hungry, and that a child observed by Fritz Schultze (Dresden) said maem-maem. Probably the syllable has its origin from the primitive syllable ma and from hearing the word "mamma" when placed at the breast of the mother.

Of the facts communicated by the physiologist Vierordt concerning the language of the child ("Deutsche Revue" of January, 1879, Berlin, pp. 29-46) should be mentioned this, that a babe in its second month expressed pleasure by the vowel a, the opposite feeling by ae. This is true of many other children also. In the third and fourth months the following syllables were recognizable: mam, aemma, fu, pfu, ess, aeng, angka, acha, erra, hab. A lisping babe said, countless times, hab, hob, ha. These syllables coincide in part with those given by other observers. The pf and ss only have not been heard by me at this age, and I doubt whether f, for which teeth are needed, was produced with purity so early. In the second and third years a child pronounced the following words: beb (for boes, naughty); bebe (Besen, beesann, broom); webbe (Wasser, watja, water); wewe (Loewe, loewee, lion); ewebau (Elephant, elafant); webenau (Fledermaus, lebamaunz, bat); babaube (Blasebalg, ba-abats, bellows); ade (Hase, hare); emele (Schemel, footstool); gigod (Schildkroete, tortoise).

These examples illustrate very well the mogilalia and paralalia that exist in every child, but with differences in each individual. Sigmatism and parasigmatism and paralambdacism are strongly marked. At the same time the influence of dialect is perceptible (Tuebingen). The pronunciations given in parentheses in the above instances were regularly used by my boy in his twenty-sixth month when he saw the pictures of the objects named in his picture-book. (In Jena.) One would not suppose beforehand that watja and webbe have the same meaning. From the ten examples may be seen, further, that f, l, r, s, t present more difficulties of articulation than b, w, m, g, and d; but neither must this be made a general conclusion. The w (on account of the teeth) regularly comes later than the b, m, and r.

In the third year Vierordt noted down the following narration. I put in brackets the words omitted by the child:

id. mama ... papa gaege [Es] ist [eine] mama [und ein] papa gewesen unn die habe wai didi gabt und diese haben zwei Kinder gehabt, unn, didi ... waud. und [die] Kinder [sind in den] Wald [gegangen] unn habe ohd duh und haben Holz geholt; na ... an e gugeeide guju dann [sind sie] an ein Zuckerhaeuschen gegangen unn habe gaeg und haben gegessen; no ad die egg gag dann hat die Hexe gesagt: naeg naeg neidi "Nucker, Nucker Neisle wie. immi. eidi wer [krabbelt] mir am Hauesle?" no habe die didi gag dann haben die Kinder gesagt: die wid, de immi immi wid ["Der Wind, der Wind, das himmlische Kind"] Der Wind, der himmlische, himmlische Wind.

(There were once a mama and a papa, and they had two children. And the children went into the woods and fetched wood. Then they came to a little sugar house and ate. Then the witch said: "Nucker, Nucker Neisle, who is crawling in my little house?" Then the children said: "The wind, the wind, the heavenly child"—The wind, the heavenly, heavenly wind.)

I told the same story to my boy for the first time when he was two years and eighteen days old. He repeated, with an effort:

Ess ets aine mama unn ain papa edam (wesen). unn (unt) diesa abn wais (twai) kinna (tinder) ghatf (dehappt). unn die kinna sint (dsint) in den walt tegang (gangen). unn-daben (habn) holz (olz) gehōl (ohlt). dann sint (dsint) sie an ain utsom-haendom (zuke-haeussn) zezan (gangn). unn (unt) habn (abn) ge ... (dessen). dann hatt die hetse (hekksee) dsa (tsakt). nanuck (nuke nuke) nana nainle (naisle). wer ... (drabbelt) mir am haeultje (aeusle). dann baben (habn) die ... (tinder) ze-a (dsagt). der wiĕds (wind) ... (der fint). dsēr wenn daz (das) himmelae (immlis) khint (tint).

Where the periods are, his attempts were all vain. At any rate, he would say pta-pta as he usually did in fruitless efforts at imitating sounds. Just two months after these first attempts, the same child recited for me the narrative, using the expressions in the parentheses; this indicated a distinct progress in articulation. A year after the first attempt, he easily repeated the whole, with only a single error. He still said himmelae, and then himmliss, for "himmlische."

A third boy (Duesseldorf) repeated the narrative much better, as early as his twenty-fifth month. He made only the following errors, which were noted by his mother, and kindly communicated by her to me:

gewesa for gewesen gehat " gehabt gehat } gehakt } " gesagt gegannen " gegangen hamen " haben hind hie " sind sie kabbell " krabbelt himmli-he " himmlische fai " zwei kinner " kinder wlad " Wald hol-l-l-t " Holz uckerhaeussen " Zuckerhaeuschen hekes " Hexe neissel " neisle haeussel " Haeusle

The ss between two vowels was imperfect, reminding one of the English "th" and the German "sch" and "s." The child could not at this time be brought to learn by heart.

We see, from these three versions, how unequal the capacity for articulation is in its development, and how varied it is in regard to the omission of difficult consonants and the substitution of others in place of them, as well as in regard to transposition, e. g., in wand, walt, wlad (Wald), wenn, wid, wiĕds, fint (Wind)—and this even in the same individual.

As no one thus far has instituted comparisons of this sort, one more example may be given. The verses taught by Sigismund to his child (for whom I use the sign S) of twenty-one months, were often repeated by my boy (A), of twenty-five months, to me, and by the boy from Duesseldorf (D), in his twenty-fifth month, to his mother:

S. A D. [_____] 21st month. 25th month. 27th month. 25th month. Guter tute tuten tuter guter Mond bohnd monn mond Mund Du gehst du tehz du gehts du dehst du gehs so stille so tinne so tilte so tille ho tille durch die duch die durch die durch die durch die Abendwolken aten-bonten aben-woltn abendwolkn abehtwolken him in in in hin gehst so tehz so gehts so dehst so gehs so traurig tautech (atich) treuja trauig terauhig und ich und ich unn ich und ich und ich fuehle buene felam fuehle fuehle dass ich dass ich dess ich dass ich dass ich ohne Ruhe one ule ohno ruhge ohne ruhe ohni ruhe bin bin bin bin bin Guter tute hotten tuter guter Mond bohnd mohn mond mond du darfst du atz du dafp du darfst du darf es wissen es bitten es witsen es wissen es wissen weil du so bein du so leil du so weil du so weil du ho verschwiegen bieten wereidsam verwiegen werwiegen bist bitz bits bist bits warum amum wa-um warum wahum meine meine meine meinhe meine Thraenen taenen taenen thraenen taenen fliessen bieten flietjam fliessen fliessen und mein und mein und mein und mein und mein Herz so aetz so hetz so erst so hetz ho traurig ist atich iz treutjam its trauig ist taudig ist Errors 24 26 13 18

The errors are very unlike, and are characteristic for each child. The fact that in the case of A the errors diminished by half within two months is to be explained by frequency of recitation. I may add that the inclination to recite was so often lacking that a good deal of pains was required to bring the child to it.

From the vocabulary of the second year of the child's life, according to the observations of Sigismund and myself, the following words of frequent use are also worthy of notice:

[ Vater Mutter Anna Milch Kuh Pferd (father) (mother) (milk) (cow) (horse) S. atte amme anne minne muh hotto aette aemme dodo tate aemmaem paed fatte maemme [ matte

{va-ata mama anna mimi mumuh otto P. {papa mukuh pfowed { fowid

Vogel Mund Nase Ohr Haare Finger Da (bird) (mouth) (nose) (ear) (hair) (there) S. piep-piep mund ase ohn ale finne da P. piep, pipiep mum nane o-a ha-i {finge da {wi-er

Adieu Guten Tag Fort Ja Nein (good-day) (away) (yes) (no) S. ade tag fot ja nein P. adjee tatach wott ja; jaja neinein

Grossmutter Kuk Zucker Karl Grete (grandmother) (sugar) {tosutte o-tute zucke all ete S. {abutte {osmutte

P. {a-mama kuk ucka kara dete {e-mama

Sigismund noticed the following names of animals (in imitation of words given to the children): bae, put, gikgak, waekwaek, huhu, ihz (Hinz). I did not find these with my child. Sigismund likewise observed baie-baie for Wiege (cradle), which my child was not acquainted with; paepae for verborgen (hidden); eichoenten for Eichhoernchen (squirrel); aepften for Aepfelchen (little apple); maedsen and maedis for Maedchen (girl); atatt for Bernhard; hundis for Hundchen, the Thueringian form of Huendchen (little dog); pot for Topf (pot); dot for dort (yonder). On the other hand, both children used wehweh for Schmerz (pain); caput for zerbrochen (broken to pieces); schoos, sooss for "auf den Schooss moecht ich" (I want to get up in the lap); auf for "hinauf moechte ich gehoben werden" (I want to be taken up); toich for Storch (stork); tul for Stuhl (chair). A third child in my presence called his grandmother mama-mama, i. e., twice-mamma, in distinction from the mother. This, however, does not necessarily imply a gift for invention, as the expression "Mamma's Mamma" may have been used of the grandmother in speaking to the child.

Other children of the same age do very much the same. The boy D, though he repeated cleverly what was said, was not good at naming objects when he was expected to do this of himself. He would say, e. g., pilla for Spiegel (mirror). At this same period (twenty-five months) he could not yet give the softened or liquid sound of consonants (mouilliren). He said n and i and a very plainly, and also i-a, but not nja, and not once "ja"; but, on the contrary, always turned away angrily when his father or I, or others, required it of him. But as late as the twenty-eighth month echolalia was present in the highest degree in this very vigorous and intelligent child, for he would at times repeat mechanically the last word of every sentence spoken in his hearing, and even a single word, e. g., when some one asked "Warum?" (why) he likewise said warum without answering the question, and he continued to do it for days again and again in a vacant way, with and without the tone of interrogation (which he did not understand). From this we see again plainly that the imitation of sounds is independent of the understanding of them, but is dependent on the functions of articulation.

These functions are discussed by themselves in the work of Prof. Fritz Schultze, of Dresden, "Die Sprache des Kindes" ("The Language of the Child," Leipsic, 1880, 44 pp.). The author defends in this the "principle of the least effort." He thinks the child begins with the sounds that are made with the least physiological effort, and proceeds gradually to the more difficult sounds, i. e., those which require more "labor of nerve and muscle." This "law" is nothing else than the "loi du moindre effort" which is to be traced back to Maupertuis, and which was long ago applied to the beginnings of articulation in children: e. g., by Buffon in 1749 ("Oeuvres completes," Paris, 1844, iv, pp. 68, 69), and, in spite of Littre, again quite recently by B. Perez[F] ("Les trois premieres Annees de l'Enfant," Paris, 1878, pp. 228-230, seq.) But this supposed "law" is opposed by many facts which have been presented in this chapter and the preceding one. The impossibility of determining the degree of "physiological effort" required for each separate sound in the child, moreover, is well known. Besides, every sound may be produced with very unequal expenditure of force; but the facts referred to are enough for refutation of the theory. According to Schultze, e. g., the vowels ought, in the process of development of the child's speech, to appear in the following order, separated in time by long intervals: 1. Ae; 2. A; 3. U; 4. O; 5. E; 6. I; 7. Oe; 8. Ue. It is correct that ae is one of the vowels that may be first plainly distinguished; but neither is it the first vowel audible—on the contrary, the first audible vowel is indistinct, and imperfectly articulated vowels are the first—nor can we admit that ae is produced with less of effort than is a. The reverse is the case. Further, oe is said to present "enormous difficulties," and hence has the place next to the last; but I have often heard the oe, short and long, perfectly pure in the second month, long before the i, and that not in my child alone. From the observations upon the latter, the order of succession appears to be the following: Indeterminate vowels, u, ae, a, oe, o, ai, ao, i, e, ue, oeu (French sound in coeur), au, oi. Thus, for the above eight vowels, instead of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, the order 3, 1, 2, 7, 4, 6, 5, 8, so that only i and ue keep their place. But other children give a varying order, and these differences in the order of succession of vowels as well as of consonants will certainly not be referred to the "influence of heredity." Two factors of quite another sort are, on the contrary, to be taken into account here in the case of every normal child without exception, apart from the unavoidable errors in every assigned order growing out of incomplete observation. In the earliest period and when the babbling monologues begin, the cavity of the mouth takes on an infinitely manifold variety of forms—the lips, tongue, lower jaw, larynx, are moved, and in a greater variety of ways than ever afterward. At the same time there is expiration, often loud expiration, and thus originates entirely at random sometimes one sound, sometimes another. The child hears sounds and tones new to him, hears his own voice, takes pleasure in it, and delights in making sounds, as he does in moving his limbs in the bath. It is natural that he should find more pleasure in some sounds, in others less. The first are more frequently made by him on account of the motor memories that are associated with the acoustic memories, and an observer does not hear the others at all if he observes the child only from time to time. In fact, however, almost all simple sounds, even the most difficult, are formed in purity before they are used in speaking in the first eight months—most frequently those that give the child pleasure, that satisfy his desires, or lessen his discomfort. It is not to be forgotten that even the ae, which requires effort on account of the drawing back and spreading out of the tongue, diminishes discomfort. The fretful babe feels better when he cries u-ae than when he keeps silent. The second factor is determined by the surroundings of the child. Those sounds which the child distinctly hears he will be able to imitate correctly sooner than he will other sounds: but he will be in condition to hear most correctly, first of all, the sounds that are most frequent, just because these most frequently excite the auditory nerve and its tract in the brain; secondly, among these sounds that are acoustically most sharply defined, viz., first the vowels, then the resonants (m, n, ng); last, the compound "friction-sounds" (fl, schl). But it is only in part that the surroundings determine this order of succession for the sounds. Another thing that partly determines and modifies this order is the child's own unwearied practice in forming consonant-sounds. He hears his own voice now better than he did at an earlier period when he was forming vowels only. He most easily retains and repeats, among the infinitely manifold consonants that are produced by loud expiration, those which have been distinctly heard by him. This is owing to the association of the motor and the acoustic memory-image in the brain. These are the most frequent in his speech. Not until later does the mechanical difficulty of articulation exert an influence, and this comes in at the learning of the compound sounds. Hence there can not be any chronological order of succession of sounds that holds good universally in the language of the child, because each language has a different order in regard to the frequency of appearance of the sounds; but heredity can have no influence here, because every child of average gifts, though it may hear from its birth a language unknown to its ancestors, if it hears no other, yet learns to speak this language perfectly. What is hereditary is the great plasticity of the entire apparatus of speech, the voice, and with it a number of sounds that are not acquired, as m. An essential reason for the defective formation of sounds in children born deaf is the fact that they do not hear their own voice. This defect may also be hereditary.

The treatise of F. Schultze contains, besides, many good remarks upon the technique of the language of the child, but, as they are of inferior psychogenetic interest, they need not be particularly mentioned here. Others of them are only partially confirmed by the observations, as is shown by a comparison with what follows.

Gustav Lindner ("Twelfth Annual Report of the Lehrer-seminars at Zschopau," 1882, p. 13) heard from his daughter, in her ninth week, arra or aerrae, which was uttered for months. Also aeckn appeared early. The principle of the least effort Lindner finds to be almost absolutely refuted by his observations. He rightly remarks that the frequent repetitions of the same groups of sounds, in the babbling monologues, are due in part to a kind of pleasure in success, such as urges adults also to repeat their successful efforts. Thus his child used to imitate the reading of the newspaper (in the second half-year) by degattegattegatte. In the eleventh and twelfth months the following were utterances of hers in repeating words heard: omama, oia (Rosa), batta (Bertha), aechard (Richard), wiwi (Friedchen), agga (Martha), olla olla (Olga, her own name). Milch (milk) she called mimi, Stuhl (chair) tuhl, Laterne (lantern), katonne, the whistle of an engine in a neighboring factory, wuh (prolonged, onomatopoetic), Paul, gouch, danke (thank you), dagn or dagni, Baum (tree), maum. Another child substituted u for i and e, saying hund for "Kind," and uluwant for "Elephant"; thus, ein fomme hund lass waede much for "ein frommes Kind lass werden mich" (let me become a pious child). Lindner's child, however, called "werden" not waede but wegen; and "turnen" she called tung, "blau" balau. At the end of the second year no sound in the German language presented difficulties to the child. Her pronunciation was, however, still incorrect, for the correct pronunciation of the separate sounds does not by any means carry with it the pronunciation of them in their combinations. This remark of Lindner's is directly to the point, and is also confirmed, as I find, by the first attempts of the child of four years to read a word after having learned the separate letters. The learning of the correct pronunciation is also delayed by the child's preference of his original incorrect pronunciation, to which he is accustomed, and which is encouraged by imitations of it on the part of his relatives. Lindner illustrates this by good examples. His child continued to say mimela after "Kamilla" was easy for him. Not till the family stopped saying it did "Kamilla" take its place. At the age of three and a half years the child still said gebhalten for "behalten" and vervloren for "verloren," as well as gebhuete for "behuete." "Grosspapa" was called successively opapa, gropapa, grosspapa. Grossmama had a corresponding development. "Fleisch" (meat) was first called jeich, then leisch; "Kartoffeln" (potatoes) kaffom, then kaftoffeln; "Zschopau" sopau, schodau, tschopau; "Sparbuechse" (savings-box) babichse, spabichse, spassbuechse, sparzbuechse; "Haering" (herring, also gold-fish) haenging. A sound out of the second syllable goes into the first. The first question, isn das? from "Was ist denn das?" (what is that, pray?) was noticed in the twentieth month; the interrogative word was? (what) in the twenty-second month. Wo? (where) and Wohin? (whither) had the same meaning (that of the French ou?), and this as late as in the fourth year. The word "Ich" (I) made its appearance in the thirtieth month. As to verbs, it is to be mentioned that, with the child at two years of age, before the use of the tenses there came the special word denoting activity in general: thus he said, when looking at a head of Christ by Guido Reni, thut beten, instead of "betet" ("does pray," instead of "prays"). The verb "sein" (be) was very much distorted: Warum warst du nicht fleissig gebist? (gebist for gewesen) (why have you not been industrious?). (Cf., pp. 172, 177.) He inflected bin, binst (for bist), bint (ist), binn (sind), bint (sind and seid), binn (sind). Further, wir isn (wir sind, we are), and nun sei ich ruhig (sei for bin) (now I am quiet), and ich habe nicht ruhig geseit (habe for "bin" and geseit for "gewesen") (I have not been quiet), are worthy of note, because they show how strong an influence in the formation of words during the transition period is exerted by the forms most frequently heard—here the imperative. The child used first of all the imperative; last the subjunctive. The superlative and comparative were not used by this child until the fourth year.

The observations of Lindner (edited anew in the periodical "Kosmos" for 1882) are among the best we have.

In the case of four brothers and sisters, whose mother, Frau Dr. Friedemann, of Berlin, has most kindly placed at my disposal trustworthy observations concerning them, the first articulate sounds heard were aerae, haegae, aeche, and a deep guttural, rattling or snarling sound (Schnarren); but the last was heard from only one of the children.

The above syllables contain three consonants (r, h, ch) that are declared by many, wrongly, to be very late in their appearance. These children in their first attempts at speaking often left out the first consonant of a word pronounced for them, or else substituted for it the one last heard, as if their memory were not equal to the retaining of the sounds heard first: e. g., in the fifteenth month they would say tĕ, t for Hut (hat), Lale for Rosalie; in the twenty-fourth, kanke for danke (thank you), kecke for Decke (covering), kucker for Zucker (sugar), huch, huche for Schuh, Schuhe (shoe, shoes), fifteenth month. In the last two cases comes in, to explain the omission, also the mechanical difficulty of the Z and Sch. The oldest of these children, a girl, when a year old, used to say, when she refused anything, ateta, with a shake of the head. She knew her own image in the glass, and pointed at it, saying taete (for Kaete). In the following table the Roman figures stand for the month; F{1}, F{2}, F{3}, F{4}, for the four children in the order of their ages. No further explanation will be needed:

VIII. _papa_ distinctly (F_{1}); _dada_, _da_, _deda_, first syllables (F_{4}); _derta_ for _Bertha_ (F_{1}).

X. _dada_, name for all possible objects (F_{2}); _papa_ (F_{3}); _ada_, _mama_, _detta_ (F_{4}).

XII. puppe (doll) correctly; taete for Kaete (F{1}); ida, papa, tata for Tante (aunt); taete (F{4}).

XIII. mama, detta for Bertha; wauwau (F{2}); lala (F{4}).

XIV. _ba_ for _baden_ (bathe) (F_{2}).

XV. _hia_ for _Ida_; _ate_ for _artig_ (well-behaved); _da_ for _danke_; _bappen_ for _essen_ (eat); _piep_; _ja_, _nein_ (yes, no) correctly (F_{1}).

XVI. ei (egg) correctly; feisch for Fleisch (meat); waffer for Wasser (water); wuffe for Suppe (F{1}); tatte for Tante; tittak; Hut (F{3}).

XIX. at for Katze (cat); duh for Kuh (cow); wān for Schwan (swan); nine for Kaninchen (rabbit); betta for Blaetter (leaves); butta for Butterblume (buttercup); fiedemann for Friedemann; taeti for Kaeti (F{1}); gad for gerade (straight); kumm for krumm (crooked) (F{3}).

XX. _fidat_ for _Zwieback_ (biscuit); _tierdatten_ for _Thiergarten_ (zooelogical garden); _waden_ for _wagen_ (carriage); _naehnaden_ for _Naehnadel_ (needle); _wewette_ for _serviette_ (napkin); _teid_ for Kleid (dress); _weife_ for Seife (soap); _famm_ for _Schwamm_ (sponge); _tonnat_ for _Konrad_; _potne_ for _Portemonnaie_; _hauf_ for _herauf_ (up here); _hunta_ for _herunter_ (down here); _hiba papa_ for _lieber_ (dear) _papa_ (F_{1}); _tue_ for _Thuer_ (door); _bau_ for _bauen_ (build); _teta_ for _Kaete_; _manna_ for _Amanda; ta_ for _guten Tag_ (good-day); _ku_ for _Kugel_ (ball) (F_{2}); _appudich_ for _Apfelmuss_ (apple-sauce); _mich_ for _Milch_ (milk); _ule pomm_ for _Ulrich komm_ (Ulrich come); _ku_ for _Kuchen_ (cake); _lilte_ for _Mathilde_ (F_{3}).

XXI. teine for Steine (stones); bimelein for Bluemelein (little flowers); mamase for Mamachen (little mama); tettern for klettern (climb); Papa weint nis (Papa doesn't cry), first sentence (F{1}); Mamase, Taete artig—Tuss (means Mamachen, Kaete ist wieder artig, gib ihr einen Kuss) (Mamma, darling, Katy is good again, give her a kiss) (F{1}); Amanda's Hut, Mamases Hirm (for Schirm) (Amanda's hat, mamma's umbrella), first use of the genitive case (F{1}); Mein Buch (my book); dein Ball (thy ball) (F{1}); das? for was ist das? (what is that?) in the tone of interrogation (F{1}) dida for Ida; lala for Rosalie; fadi for Fahne (flag); bueda for Bruederchen (little brother); hu-e for Schuhe (shoes); mai maich, for meine Milch (my milk) (F{2}).

XXII. _kusch_ for _Kuss_ (kiss); _sch_ generally used instead of _s_ for months (F_{3}).

XXIII. koka for Cacao; batt for Bett (bed); emmu for Hellmuth (light-heartedness); nanna mommom (Bon-bon); papa, appel for Papa, bitte einen Apfel (Papa, please, an apple) (F{2}); petscher for Schwester (sister); till for still; bils for Milch; hiba vata for lieber Vater (dear father) (F{3}).

XXIV. _pija eine_ for _eine Fliege_ (a fly); _pipik_ for _Musik_. Sentences begin to be formed (F_{3}).

XXV. _pater_ for _Vater_ (father); _appelsine_ for _Apfelsine_ (orange) (F_{2}).

All these observations confirm my results in regard to articulation, viz., that in very many cases the more difficult sounds, i. e., those that require a more complicated muscular action, are either omitted or have their places supplied by others; but this rule does not by any means hold good universally: e. g., the sound preferred by F_{3}, _sch_, is more difficult than _s_, and my child very often failed to produce it as late as the first half of the fourth year.

In the twenty-second month, in the case of the intelligent little girl F_{1}, numbering began suddenly. She took small stones from a table in the garden, one after another, and counted them distinctly up to the ninth. The persons present could not explain this surprising performance (for the child had not learned to count) until it was discovered that on the previous day some one had counted the stairs for the child in going up. My child did not begin to count till the twenty-ninth month, and, indeed, although he knew the numbers (their names, not their meaning), he counted only by adding one to one (cf. above, p. 172). Sigismund's boy, long before he formed sentences, on seeing two horsemen, one following the other at a short interval, said, _eite_ (for Reiter)! _noch eins!_ This proves the activity of the faculty of numbering.

The boy F_{3}, at the age of two and two thirds years, still said _schank_ for _Schrank_ and _nopf_ for _Knopf_, and, on being told to say _Sch-r-ank_ plainly, he said _rrr-schank_. This child from the thirty-first month on made much use of the interrogative words. _Warum?_ _weshalb?_ he asked at every opportunity; very often, too, _was?_ _wer?_ _wo?_ (Why? wherefore? what? who? where?); sometimes _was?_ four or five times when he had been spoken to. When the meaning of what had been said was made plain, then the child stopped asking questions.

The little girl F_{4}, in her thirteenth month, always says, when she sees a clock, _didda_ (for "tick-tack," which has been said to her), and imitates with her finger the movement of the pendulum. It was noticed of this child that, when not yet five months old, she would accompany a song, sung for her by her mother, with a continuous, drawling _aeh-aeh-aeh_; but, as soon as the mother stopped, the child became silent also. The experiment was one day (the one hundred and forty-fifth of the child's life) repeated nine times, with the same result.

I have myself repeatedly observed that babes in the fourth month respond to words spoken in a forcible, pleasant manner with sounds indeterminate often, with oe-ĕ and other vowels. There is no imitation in this, but a reaction that is possible only through participation of the cerebrum, as in the case of the joyous sounds at music at an earlier period.

The date at which the words heard from members of the family are for the first time clearly imitated, and the time when the words of the mother-tongue are first used independently, depends, undoubtedly, with children in sound condition, chiefly upon the extent to which people occupy themselves with the children. According to Heinr. Feldmann (De statu normali functionum corporis humani. Inaugural dissertation, Bonn, 1833, p. 3), thirty-three children spoke for the first time (prima verba fecerunt) as follows:

14 15 16 17 18 19 Month. 1 8 19 3 1 1 Children.

Of these there could walk alone

8 9 10 11 12 Month. —^— —-^—- 3 24 6 Children.

According to this, it is generally the case (the author presumably observed Rhenish children) that the first independent step is taken in walking several months earlier than the first word is spoken. But the statement of Heyfelder is not correct, that the average time at which sound children learn to walk ("laufen lernen") comes almost exactly at the completion of the twelfth month. The greater part of them are said by him to begin to walk a few days before or after the 365th day. R. Demme observed that the greater part began to walk between the twelfth and eighteenth months, and my inquiries yield a similar result. Sigismund's boy could run before he imitated words and gestures, and he did not yet form a sentence when he had more than sixty words at his command. Of two sisters, the elder could not creep in her thirteenth month, could walk alone for the first time in the fifteenth month, step over a threshold alone in the eighteenth, jump down alone from a threshold in the nineteenth, run nimbly in the twentieth; the younger, on the other hand, could creep alone cleverly at the beginning of the tenth month, even over thresholds, could take the first unsteady steps alone in the thirteenth, and stride securely over the threshold alone in the fifteenth. In spite of this considerable start the younger child was not, by a great deal, so far advanced in articulation, in repeating words after others, and in the use of words, in her fifteenth month, as the elder was in her fifteenth. The latter spoke before she walked, the former ran before she spoke (Frau von Struempell). My child could imitate gestures (beckoning, clinching the fist, nodding the head) and single syllables (heiss), before he could walk, and did not learn to speak till after that; whereas the child observed by Wyma could stand firmly at nine months, and walk soon after, and he spoke at the same age. Inasmuch as in such statistical materials the important thing is to know what is meant by "speaking for the first time," whether it be saying mama, or imitating, or using correctly a word of the language that is to be spoken later, or forming a sentence of more than one word—and yet on these points data are lacking—we can not regard the laborious inquiries and collections as of much value. Children in sound condition walk for the most part before they speak, and understand what is said long before they walk. A healthy boy, born on the 13th of July, 1873, ran alone for the first time on the 1st of November, 1874, and formed his first sentence, hia muta ji ("Marie! die Mutter ist ausgegangen," ji = adieu) (Mary, mother has gone out), on the 21st of November, 1875, thus a full year later (Schulte).

More important, psychogenetically, are observations concerning the forming of new words with a definite meaning before learning to speak—words not to be considered as mutilations, imperfectly imitated or onomatopoetic forms (these, too, would be imitations), or as original primitive interjections. In spite of observations and inquiries directed especially to this point, I have not been able to make sure that any inventions of that sort are made before there has taken place, through the medium of the child's relatives, the first association of ideas with articulate sounds and syllables. There is no reason for supposing them to be made by children. According to the foregoing data, they are not thus made. All the instances of word-inventions of a little boy, communicated by Prof. S. S. Haldemann, of the University at Philadelphia, in his "Note on the Invention of Words" ("Proceedings of the American Philological Association," July 14, 1880) are, like those noted by Taine, by Holden (see below), by myself, and others, onomatopoetic (imitative, pp. 160, 91). He called a cow m, a bell tin-tin (Holden's boy called a church-bell ling-dong-mang [communicated in correspondence]), a locomotive tshu, tshu, the noise made by throwing objects into the water boom, and he extended this word to mean throw, strike, fall, spill, without reference to the sound. But the point of departure here, also, was the sound. In consideration of the fact that a sound formed in imitation of it, that is, a repetition of the tympanic vibrations by means of the vibrations of the vocal cords, is employed as a word for a phenomenon associated with the sound—that this is done by means of the faculty of generalization belonging to children that are intelligent but as yet without speech—it is perfectly allowable, notwithstanding the scruples and objections of even a Max Mueller, to look for the origin of language in the imitation of sounds and the repetition of our own inborn vocal sounds, and so in an imitation. For the power of forming concepts must have manifested itself in the primitive man, as is actually the case in the infant, by movements of many sorts before articulate language existed. The question is, not whether the roots of language originated onomatopoetically or interjectionally, but simply whether they originated through imitation or not. For interjections, all of them, could in no way come to be joined together so as to be means of mutual understanding, i. e., words, unless one person imitated those of another. Now if the alalic child be tested as to whether he forms new words in any other way than by imitation and transformation of what he imitates, i. e., whether he forms them solely of his own ability, be it by the combination of impulsive sounds of his own or of sounds accidentally arising in loud expiration, we find no sure case of it. Sound combinations, syllables—and those not in the least imitated—there are in abundance, but that even a single one is, without the intervention of the persons about the child, constantly associated with one and the same idea (before other ideas have received their verbal designation—likewise by means of the members of the family—and have been made intelligible to the child), can not be shown to be probable. My observations concerning the word atta (p. 122 et al.) would tend in that direction, were it not that the atta, uttered in the beginning without meaning, had first got the meaning of "away," through the fact that atta was once said by somebody at going away.

So long as proof is wanting, we can not believe that each individual child discovers anew the fundamental fact of the expression of ideas by movements of the tongue; but we have to admit that he has inherited the faculty for such expression, and simply manifests it when he finds occasion for imitations.

The first person that has attempted to fix the number of all the words used by the child, independently, before the beginning of the third year of life (and these only), is an astronomer, E. S. Holden, director of the Observatory of the University at Madison, Wisconsin. His results in the case of three children have been recently published (in the "Transactions of the American Philological Association," 1887, pp. 58-68).

Holden found, by help of Webster's "Unabridged Dictionary," his own vocabulary to consist of 33,456 words, with a probable error of one per cent. Allowing a probable error of two per cent, his vocabulary would be comprised between the limits of 34,125 words and 32,787 words. A vocabulary of 25,000 words and over is, according to the researches of himself and his friends, by no means an unusual one for grown persons of average intelligence and education.

Holden now determined in the most careful manner the words actually used by two children during the twenty-fourth month of their lives. A friend in England ascertained the same for a third child. All doubtful words were rigidly excluded. For example, words from nursery rhymes were excluded, unless they were independently and separately used in the same way with words of daily and common use. In the first two cases the words so excluded are above 500 in number. Again, the names of objects represented in pictures were not included unless they were often spontaneously used by the children. The lists of words are presented in the order of their initial letters, because the ease or difficulty of pronouncing a word, the author is convinced, largely determines its early or late adoption. In this I can not fully agree with him, on the ground of my own experience (particularly since I have myself been teaching my child English, in his fourth year; he learns the language easily). It is not correct that the pronunciation rather than the meaning makes the learning of a word difficult. Thus, in all three of Holden's cases, the words that have the least easy initial (s) predominate; the child, however, avoided them and substituted easy ones. Holden makes no mention of this; and in his list of all the words used he puts together, strangely, under one and the same letter, without regard to their sound-(phonic) value, vocables that begin with entirely different sounds. Thus, e. g., under c are found corner (k), chair (tsch), cellar (s); under k, actually knee (n) and keep (k), and, under s, words that begin with the same s-sound as in cellar, e. g., soap, and also words beginning with the sch-sound, sugar, and with st, sw, sm, and many others. As the words of the three children are grouped, not according to the sounds with which they begin, but according to their initial letters, into twenty-six classes, the author's conclusions can not be admitted. The words must first all be arranged according to their initial sounds. When this task is accomplished, which brings no and know, e. g., into one class, wrap and rag into a second—whereas they were put in four different classes—then we find by no means the same order of succession that Holden gives. The author wrote to me, however, in 1882, that his oldest child understood at least 1,000 words more than those enumerated here, i. e., than those published by him, and that with both children facility of pronunciation had more influence in regard to the use of words than did the ease with which the words could be understood; this, however, does not plainly follow from the printed statements before me, as he admits. When the first-born child was captivated by a new word, she was accustomed to practice it by herself, alone, and then to come and employ it with a certain pride. The second child did so, too, only in a less striking manner. The boy, on the contrary, who was four years old in December, 1881, and who had no ear for music and less pride than his sisters, did not do as they did.

Further, the statements of the number of all the nouns, adjectives, verbs, and adverbs used by a child of two years are of interest, although they present several errors: e. g., supper makes its appearance twice in the case of the same child under s, and enough figures as an adjective. For the three girls, in their twenty-fourth month, the results were:

- - - Parts of Speech. First child. Second child. Third child. - - - Nouns 285 230 113 Verbs 107 90 30 Adjectives 34 37 13 Adverbs 29 17 6 Other parts of speech 28 25 11 - - Total 483 399 173

A fourth child, brother of the first and second, made use (according to the lists kindly communicated to me by the author), in his twenty-fourth month, of 227 nouns—some proper names among them—105 verbs, 22 adjectives, 10 adverbs, and 33 words of the remaining classes (all these figures being taken from the notes of the child's mother).

From these four vocabularies of the twenty-fourth month it plainly results that the stock of words and the kinds of words depend primarily on the words most used in the neighborhood of the child, and the objects most frequently perceived; they can not, therefore, be alike in different children. The daughters of the astronomer, before their third year, name correctly a portrait of Galileo, and one of Struve. A local "tone," or peculiarity of this sort, attaches to every individual child, a general one to the children of a race. I may add that the third child (in England) seems to have been less accurately observed than the others (in Madison, Wisconsin). Great patience and attention are required to observe and note down every word used by a child in a month.

Without mentioning the name of Holden, but referring to his investigations, which, in spite of the defects mentioned, are of the very highest merit, M. W. Humphreys, Professor of Greek in Vanderbilt University, Nashville, has published a similar treatise, based on observations of his own ("A Contribution to Infantile Linguistic," in the "Transactions of the American Philological Association," 1880, xi, pp. 6-17). He collected, with the help of a dictionary, all the words that a little girl of just two years "had full command of," whether correctly pronounced or not, and whether they appeared exactly in the twenty-fourth month or earlier. He simply required to be convinced that every one of the words was understood and had been spontaneously used, and could still be used. He did not include proper names, or words (amounting to hundreds) from nursery-rhymes, or numerals, or names of the days of the week, because he was not sure that the child had a definite idea associated with them. The vocabulary thus numbered 1,121 words: 592 nouns, 283 verbs, 114 adjectives, 56 adverbs, 35 pronouns, 28 prepositions, 5 conjunctions, and 8 interjections. In this table irregular verb-and noun-forms are not counted as separate words, except in the case of defective verbs, as am, was, been. The author presents the 1,121 words according to their classification as parts of speech, and according to initial letters, not according to initial sounds, although he himself declares this an erroneous proceeding, as I did in discussing Holden's paper. The only reason for it was convenience.

In the adoption of a word by the child, difficulty of utterance had some influence in the first year; when the little girl was two years old, this had ceased to have any effect whatever. She had by that time adopted certain substitutes for letters that she could not pronounce, and words containing these letters were employed by her as freely as if the substitutes had been the correct sounds. In regard to the meaning, and the frequency of use dependent upon it, it is to be observed that the simplest ideas are most frequently expressed. When two words are synonymous, one of them will be used exclusively by a child, because of the rarer employment of the other by persons speaking in the child's presence. Here, too, the local "tone" that has been mentioned made itself felt; thus, the little girl used the word "crinoid" every day, to designate sections of fossil crinoid stems which abounded in neighboring gravel walks.

As to parts of speech, nouns were most readily seized; then, in order, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, pronouns. Prepositions and conjunctions the child began to employ early, but acquired them slowly. Natural interjections—wah, for instance—she used to some extent from the beginning; conventional ones came rather late.

The following observations by Humphreys are very remarkable, and are, in part, up to this time unique:

When about four months old the child began a curious and amusing mimicry of conversation, in which she so closely imitated the ordinary cadences that persons in an adjacent room would mistake it for actual conversation. The articulation, however, was indistinct, and the vowel-sounds obscure, and no attempt at separate words, whether real or imaginary, was made until she was six months old, when she articulated most syllables distinctly, without any apparent effort.

When she was eight months old it was discovered that she knew by name every person in the house, as well as most of the objects in her room, and the parts of the body, especially of the face. She also understood simple sentences, such as, "Where is the fire?" "Where is the baby in the glass?" to which she would reply by pointing. In the following months she named many things correctly, thus using words as words in the proper sense. The pronunciation of some final consonants was indistinct, but all initial consonants were distinctly pronounced, except th, t, d, n, l. These the child learned in the eleventh month. At this period she could imitate with accuracy any sound given her, and had a special preference for ng (ngang, ngeng), beginning a mimicry of language again, this time using real or imaginary words, without reference to signification. But an obscurity of vowel-sounds had begun again. After the first year her facility of utterance seemed to have been lost, so that she watched the mouths of others closely when they were talking, and labored painfully after the sounds. Finally, she dropped her mimicry of language, and, at first very slowly, acquired words with the ordinary infant pronunciation, showing a preference for labials (p, b, m) and linguals (t, d, n, not l). Presently she substituted easy sounds for difficult ones. In the period from eighteen months to two years of age, the following defects of articulation appeared regularly: v was pronounced like b, th (this) like d, th (thin) like t, z like d, s like t, r like w, j like d, ch like t, sh like t; further:

Initial. Final. f like w, f like p, l not at all, l correctly, g like d, g correctly, k like t, k correctly,

and in general correctly, m, b, p, n, d, t, h, ng, w. On the other hand, the initial sounds bl, br, li, pr, fl, fr, dr, tr, thr, sp, st, became b, b, p, p, w, w, d, t, t, p, t; and the initial sounds sk, sw, sm, sn, sl, gl, gr, kw, kl, kr, hw, became t, w, m, n, t (for s), d, w, w, t, w, hw (h weak). The letter y was not pronounced at all, at first.

From this table, as Humphreys rightly observes, may be drawn the following conclusions in regard to the initial sounds of words:

When a letter which could be pronounced correctly preceded another, the first was retained, but, if both were represented by substitutes, the second was retained. If, however, the second was one which the child made silent, then she pronounced the first. Thus, tr = t, kr = w (for r), kl = t (for k, l being one of her silent letters). With these results should be compared those presented in regard to German children, in the paper of Fritz Schultze (p. 239 above) (which likewise are not of universal application).

The accent was for the most part placed on the last syllable. Only one case of the invention of a new word could be established. When the child was about eighteen months old, a fly flew all about her plate when she was eating, and she exclaimed, "The old fly went wiggely-waggely." But at this time the child had already learned to speak; she knew, therefore, that perceptions are expressed by words. Notwithstanding, the original invention remains remarkable, unless there may be found in it a reminiscence of some expression out of nursery-talk (cf., p. 238). Until the eighteenth month, "no" signified both "yes" and "no."

At the end of two years subordinate propositions were correctly employed. This was the case also with a German girl in Jena, who, for instance, said, "The ball which Puck has" (P. Fuerbringer). In the case of my boy such sentences did not make their appearance till much later.

I had hoped to find trustworthy observations in several other works besides those mentioned. Their titles led one to expect statements concerning the acquirement of speech by little children; thus, "Das Kind, Tagebuch eines Vaters" ("The Child, A Father's Diary"), by H. Semmig (second edition, Leipsic, 1876), and the book of B. Perez, already named (p. 239). But inasmuch as for the former of these writers the first cry of the newly-born is a "triumphal song of everlasting life," and for the second author "the glance" is associated with "the magnetic effluvia of the will," I must leave both of these works out of consideration. The second contains many statements concerning the doings and sayings of little children in France; but these can not easily be turned to account.

The same author has issued a new edition, in abridged form, of the "Memoirs," written, according to him, by Dietrich Tiedemann, of a son of Tiedemann two years of age (the biologist, Friedrich Tiedemann, born in 1781). (Thierri Tiedemann et la science de l'enfant. Mes deux chats. Fragment de psychologie comparee par Bernard Perez. Paris, 1881, pp. 7-38; Tiedemann, 39-78. "The First Six Weeks of Two Cats.") But it is merely on account of its historical interest that the book is mentioned here, as the scanty (and by no means objective) notes of the diary were made a hundred years ago. The treatises of Pollock and Egger, mentioned in the periodical "Mind" (London, July, 1881, No. 23), I am not acquainted with, and the same is true of the work of Schwarz (mentioned above, p. 224).

Very good general statements concerning the child's acquisition of speech are to be found in Degerando ("L'education des sourds-muets de naissance," 1 vol., Paris, 1827, pp. 32-57). He rightly maintains that the child learns to speak through his own observation, without attention from other persons, far more than through systematic instruction; the looks and gestures of the members of the family when talking with one another are especially observed by the child, who avails himself of them in divining the meaning of the words he hears. This divining, or guessing, plays in fact a chief part in the learning of speech, as I have several times remarked.

New comprehensive diaries concerning the actions of children in the first years of life are urgently to be desired. They should contain nothing but well-established facts, no hypotheses, and no repetitions of the statements of others.

Among the very friendly notes that have been sent to me, the following particularly conform to the above requirements. They were most kindly placed at my disposal by the Baroness von Taube, of Esthonia, daughter of the very widely and honorably known Count Keyserling. They relate to her first-born child, and come all of them from the mother herself:

In the first five months I heard from my son, when he cried, all the vowels. The sound ae was the first and most frequent. Of the consonants, on the other hand, I heard only g, which appeared after seven weeks. When the child was fretful he often cried gege; when in good humor he often repeated the syllables agu, agoe, aeou, ogoe, eia; then l came in, uel.

The same sounds in the case of my daughter; but from her I heard, up to her tenth month, in spite of all my observation, no other consonants than g, b, w, rarely l, and finally m-sounds. With my son at the beginning of the seventh month an R-sound appeared—grr, grrr, plainly associated with d in dirr dirr. These sounds were decidedly sounds of discomfort, which expressed dissatisfaction, violent excitement, sleepiness; and they are made even now by the boy at four years of age when, e. g., he is in pain. In the ninth month dada and b, bab-a, baeb-ae are added. Agoe also is often said, and oe still more often. This oe is already a kind of conscious attempt at speaking, for he uses it when he sees anything new, e. g., the dog Caro, which he observes with eager attention, as he does the cat, uttering aloud meanwhile oe, oe.

If any one is called, the child calls in a very loud voice, Oe, oe! First imitation. (Gestures have been imitated since the eighth month, and the making of grimaces in the child's presence had to be strictly forbidden.) Understanding for what is said is also present, for when one calls "Caro, Caro," in his hearing, he looks about him as if he were looking for the dog. In the tenth month he often repeats Pap-ba, but it has no significance.

If "Backe backe kuchen" ("bake cakes," corresponding to our

"pat-a-cake") is said to him, he immediately pats his hands as if preparing bread for baking. In the eleventh month Pap-ba is dropped. He now says often daedaedaedae, and, when he is dull or excited (erregt) or sleepy, drin, drin. These r-sounds do not occur with my daughter; but since her tenth month she uses m-sounds, maemmae when she is sleepy or dull. The boy now stretches out his hand and beckons when he sees any one at a distance. At sight of anything new, he no longer says oe, but aeda (twelfth month). He likes to imitate gestures with his arms and mouth; he observes attentively the movements of the lips of one who is speaking, sometimes touching at the same time the mouth of the speaker with his finger.

At ten months the first teeth came. In the eleventh month the child was for the first time taken out into the open air. Now the g-sounds again become prominent—aga, ga, gugag. The child begins to creep, but often falls, and while making his toilsome efforts keeps crying out in a very comical manner, aech, aech, aech!

At eleven and a half months a great advance. The child is now much out of doors, and enjoys seeing horses, cows, hens, and ducks. When he sees the hens he says gog, gog, and even utters some croaking sounds. He can also imitate at once the sound prrr when it is pronounced to him. If papa is pronounced for him (he has lost this word), he responds regularly wawa or wawawa. I have only once heard wauwau from him. If he hears anybody cough, he immediately gives a little imitative cough in fun (vol. i, p. 288), and this sounds very comical.

He makes much use of od, aedo, and aed, and this also when he sees pictures. When the boy had reached the age of a year, he was weaned; from that time his mental development was very rapid. If any one sings to him gi ga gack, he responds invariably gack.

He begins to adapt sounds to objects: imitation of sound is the chief basis of this adaptation. He calls the ducks with gaek, gaek, and imitates the cock, after a fashion, names the dog aua (this he got from his nurse), not only when he sees the animal, but also when he hears him bark. E. g., the child is playing busily with pasteboard boxes; the dog begins to bark outside of the house; the child listens and says aua. I roll his little carriage back and forth; he immediately says brrr, pointing to it with his hand; he wants to ride, and I have to put him in (he had heard burra, as a name for riding, from his nurse). When he sees a horse, he says prr (this has likewise been said for him).

I remark here that the notion that the child thinks out its own language—a notion I have often met with, held by people not well informed in regard to this matter—rests on defective observation. The child has part of his language given to him by others; part is the result of his own sound-imitations—of animals, e. g.—and part rests on mutilations of our language. At the beginning of the thirteenth month he suddenly names all objects and pictures, for some days, dodo, toto, which takes the place of his former oe; then he calls them niana, which he heard frequently, as it means "nurse" in Russian. Everything now is called niana: dirr continues to be the sign of extreme discomfort.

Papba is no more said, ever; on the other hand, mamma appears for the first time, but without any significance, still less with any application to the mother.

The word niana becomes now the expression of desire, whether of his food or of going to somebody or somewhere. Sometimes, also, under the same circumstances, he cries maemmae and mamma; the dog is now decidedly called aua, the horse prr.

14th Month.—He now names also single objects in his picture-book: the dog, aua, the cats, tith (pronounced as in English), kiss kiss having been said for him; horses, prr, all birds, gock or gack. In the house of a neighbor he observes at once the picture, although it hangs high up on the wall, of the emperor driving in a sleigh, and cries prrr. Animals that he does not know he calls, whether in the book or the real animals, aua or ua, e. g. cows.

His nurse, to whom he is much attached, he now calls decidedly niania, although he continues to use this word in another sense also. If she is absent for some time, he calls, longingly, niania, niania. He sometimes calls me mamma; but not quite surely yet. He babbles a good deal to himself; says over all his words, and makes variations in his repertory, e. g., niana, kanna, danna; repeats syllables and words, producing also quite strange and unusual sounds, and accumulations of consonants, like mba, mpta. As soon as he wakes in the morning he takes up these meaningless language-exercises, and I hear him then going on in an endless babble.

When he does not want a thing, he shakes his head as a sign of refusal; this no one has taught him. Nodding the head as a sign of assent or affirmation he is not yet acquainted with, and learns it much later.

The nurse speaks with me of Caro; the child attends and says aua; he knows what we were talking about. If his grandmother says, "Give the little hand," he at once stretches it out toward her. He understands what is said, and begins consciously to repeat it. His efforts to pronounce the word Grossmama (grandmamma) are comical; in spite of all his pains, he can not get beyond the gr; says Gr-mama, and finally Goo-mama, and makes this utterance every time he sees his grandmother. At this time he learns also from his nurse the word koppa as a name for horse, instead of prr, burra, which, from this time forth, denotes only going in a carriage. Koppa is probably a formation from "hoppa koppati," an imitation of the sound of the hoofs.

At the end of the fourteenth month, his stock of words is much enlarged. The child plays much in the open air, sees much, and advances in his development; words and sounds are more and more suited to conceptions. He wakes in the night and says appa, which means "Give me some drink." The ball he calls Ball; flower, Bume (for Blume); cat, katz and kotz (Katze)—what kalla, kanna, kotta signify we do not know. He imitates the barking of the dog with auauauau. He says teine for Steine (stones); calls Braten (roast meat) paati and paa, and Brod (bread) the same. If he hits against anything in creeping, he immediately says ba (it hurts). If he comes near a dangerous object, and some one says to him, ba, he is on his guard at once.

A decided step in advance, at the end of the fourteenth month, is his calling me Mama. At sight of me he often cries out, in a loud voice and in a coaxing tone, ei-mamma! just as he calls the nurse ei-niana. His father he now calls Papa, too, but not until now, although this sound, papba, made its appearance in the tenth month, after which time it was completely forgotten. His grandmother, as he can not get beyond the gr, is now called simply grrru; not until later, Go-mamma.

15th Month.—He now says Guten Tag (good-day), but not always at the right time; also Guttag. He likes to see pictures, and calls picture-books ga or gock, probably because a good many birds are represented in them. He likes to have stories told to him, and to have pictures explained or rather named.

"Hinauf" (up) he calls ueppa, e. g., when he is to be lifted into his chair. For "unten, hinab" (below, down), he says patz. Not long ago he repeated unweariedly pka, pta (pp. 139, 144), mba, mbwa.

At this period he begins to raise himself erect, holding on by chairs and such things.

Of horses he is passionately fond; but he begins to use the word koppa, as the Chinese do their words, in various meanings. He calls my large gold hair-pins koppa. Perhaps in his imagination they represent horses, as do many other objects also with which he plays. Berries he now calls mamma. He has a sharp eye for insects, and calls them all putika, from the Esthonian puttukas (beetle), which he has got from the maid.

All large birds in the picture-book he now calls papa, the word being probably derived from Papagei (parrot), which he also pronounces papagoi. The smaller birds are called gog and gack.

His image in the glass he calls titta (Esthonian designation for child, doll). Does he recognize himself in it (p. 196, et seq.)?

Once he heard me in the garden calling some one in a loud voice. He immediately imitated me, and afterward when he was asked "What does mamma do?" he understood the question at once, put out his lips, and made the same sound. He is very uneasy in strange surroundings, in strange places, or among strangers.

My bracelet, too, he now calls kopita. Mann is a new word. O-patz means "playing on the piano," as well as "below, down there." When the piano is played he sings in a hoarse voice, with lips protruded, as well as he can, but does not get the tune. He likes to dance, and always dances in time.

Nocho (noch, yet) is a new word, which he uses much in place of mehr (more), e. g., when he wants more food.

He often plays with apples, which for this reason, and very likely because they are round, he calls Ball, as he does his rubber ball. Yesterday he had baked apples, mashed, with milk. He recognized the apple at once in this altered form, and said as he ate, Ball! At this time he was not yet sixteen months old.

16th Month.—He is often heard to beg, or rather order, Mamma opatz (play the piano). If I do not at once obey, he moves his little hands like a piano-player and begs tatata, tatata, imitating the music. He likes also to hear songs sung, and can already tell some of them, as Gigagack, kucka tralla. He joins in singing the last of these.

17th Month.—He speaks his own name correctly, and when asked "Where is Adolph?" he points to his breast. As he is always addressed in the third person, i. e., by his name, he does not know any personal pronouns.

The syllable ei he often changes to al; e. g., he says Papagal instead of "Papagei."

He had some grapes given to him for the first time, and he at once called them mammut (berries). Being asked, "How do you like them?" he pressed his hand on his heart in an ecstasy of delight that was comical, crying ach! ach!

18th Month.—He comprehends and answers questions; e. g., "Where are you going?" Zu Tuhl (to the chair). "What is that?" Bett tuddu, i. e., a bed for sleeping. "Who gave you this?" Mamma, Pappa.

He can now say almost any word that is said to him, often mutilating it; but, if pains be taken to repeat it for him, he pronounces it correctly. He often tacks on the syllable ga, as if in endearment, mammaga, pappaga, nianiaga. The forming of sentences is also beginning, for he joins two words together, e. g., Mamma kommt (comes), Papa gut (good), Ferd (for Pferd) halt (horse stop). He says wiebacka for Zwieback (biscuit), Brati for Braten (roast meat), Goossmama for Grossmama (grandmamma). He pronounces correctly "Onkel Kuno, Suppe, Fuchs, Rabe, Kameel."

When others are conversing in his presence, he often says to himself the words he hears, especially the last words in the sentence. The word "Nein" (no) he uses as a sign of refusal; e. g., "Will you have some roast meat?" Nein. Ja (yes), on the other hand, he does not use, but he answers in the affirmative by repeating frequently with vehemence what he wants, e. g., "Do you want some roast?" Brati, Brati (i. e., I do want roast).

He gives names to his puppets. He calls them Grandmamma, Grandpapa, Uncle Kuno, Uncle Gruenberg, gardener, cook, etc. The puppets are from his Noah's ark.

Now appear his first attempts at drawing. He draws, as he imagines, all kinds of animals: ducks, camels, tigers. He lately made marks, calling out Torch und noch ein Torch (a stork and another stork). (cf. pp. 172, 247.)

The book of birds is his greatest delight. I have to imitate the notes of birds, and he does it after me, showing memory in it. He knows at once stork, woodpecker, pigeon, duck, pelican, siskin, and swallow. The little verses I sing at the same time amuse him, e. g., "Zeislein, Zeislein, wo ist dein Haeuslein?" (Little siskin, where is your little house?); and he retains them when he hears them often. Russian words also are repeated by him.

For the first time I observe the attempt to communicate to others some experience of his own. He had been looking at the picture-book with me, and when he went to the nurse he told her, Mamma, Bilder, Papagei (Mamma, pictures, parrot).

19th Month.—From the time he was a year and a half old he has walked alone.

He speaks whole sentences, but without connectives, e. g., Niana Braten holen (nurse bring roast); Caro draussen wauwau (Caro outside, bow-wow); Mamma tuddut (sleeps, inflected correctly); Decke um (cover over); Papa koppa Stadt (Papa driven to city); Mamma sitzt tuhl (Mamma sits chair); Adolph bei Mama bleiben (Adolph stay with mamma); Noch tanzen (more dance); Pappa Fuchs machen (Papa make fox).

Certain words make him nervous. He does not like the refrain of the children's song of the goat. If I say "Darum, darum, meck, meck, meck," he looks at me indignantly and runs off. Sometimes he lays his hand on my mouth or screams loudly for the nurse. He gives up any play he is engaged in as soon as I say "darum, darum." Pax vobiscum has the same effect.

The songs amuse him chiefly on account of the words, particularly through the imitations of the sounds of animals.

He knows the songs and asks of his own accord for Kucku Esaal, Kater putz, Kucku tralla, but commonly hears only the first stanza, and then wants a different song. Lately, however, he listened very earnestly to the three stanzas of "Moepschen," and when I asked "What now?" he answered Noch Mops (more Mops). Playing with his puppets, he hummed to himself, tu, tu, errsen, tu tu errsen. I guessed that it was "Du, du liegst mir im Herzen," which he had on the previous day wanted to hear often and had tried to repeat.

20th Month.—Now for the first time ja is used for affirmation, chiefly in the form ja wohl (yes, indeed, certainly), which he retains. "Do you want this?" Ja wohl.

Being asked "Whose feet are these?" he answers correctly, Mine; but no personal pronouns appear yet. He often retains a new and difficult word that he has heard only once, e. g., "Chocolade."

To my question, after his grandfather had gone away, "Where is Grandpapa now?" he answers sorrowfully, verloren (lost). (Cf. p. 145.)

In his plays he imitates the doings and sayings of adults, puts a kerchief about his head and says, Adolph go stable, give oats.

Not long ago, as he said good-night to us, he went also to his image in the glass and kissed it repeatedly, saying, Adolph, good-night!

24th Month.—He knows a good many flowers, their names and colors; calls pansies "the dark flowers."

He also caught the air and rhythm of certain songs, e. g., Kommt a Vogel angeflogen, Du, du, liegst mir im Herzen, machst mir viel Serzen, and used to sing to himself continually when he was on a walk. Now that he is four years old, on the contrary, he hardly ever sings.

25th Month.—Beetles have a great interest for him. He brings a dead beetle into the parlor, and cries, "Run now!" His astonishment is great that the creature does not run.

If he sees something disagreeable (e. g., he saw the other day an organ-grinder with a monkey), he covers his face with his hands weeping aloud and crying, Monkey go away. So, too, when he sees strangers.

The Latin names of flowers and insects are easily retained by him. They are not taught him, he simply hears them daily.

26th and 27th Months.—Of his childish language he has retained only the term mammut, for berries. Milk, which he used to call mima, is now called milch (cf., pp. 140, 157).

The child's use of the personal pronoun is strange. During my absence an aunt of his took my place, and she addressed him for the first time with the word "Du" (thou), and spoke of herself as "I," whereas I always called myself "Mama." The consequence was that the boy for a long time used "thou" as the first person, "I" as the second person, with logical consistency. He hands me bread, saying, I am hungry, or, when I am to go with him, I come too. Referring to himself, he says, You want flowers; you will play with Niania. All other persons are addressed with "I" instead of "you."

He tells his uncle, There's an awfully pretty gentian in the yard. He gets the nurse occasionally to repeat the Latin names, because they are difficult for her, and his correction of her is very comical.

28th Month.—He speaks long sentences. Papa, come drink coffee, please do. Papa, I drive (for "you drive") to town, to Reval, and bring some parrots (Bellensittiche).

He often changes the form of words for fun, e. g., guten Porgen (for guten Morgen). On going out, he says, with a knowing air, "Splendid weather, the sun shines so warm." He alters songs also, putting in different expressions: e. g., instead of Lieber Vogel fliege weiter, nimm a Kuss und a Gruss, Adolph sings, Lieber Vogel fliege weiter in die Wolken hinein (dear bird, fly farther, into the clouds, instead of take a kiss and a greeting). It is a proof of logical thinking that he asks, at sight of the moon, The moon is in the sky, has it wings?

I had been sick; when I was better and was caressing him again, he said, Mama is well, the dear Jesus has made mama well with sealing-wax. "With sealing-wax?" I asked, in astonishment. Yes, from the writing-desk. He had often seen his toys, when they had been broken, "made well", as he called it, by being stuck together with sealing-wax.

He now asks, Where is the dear Jesus? "In heaven." Can he fly then; has he wings?

Religious conceptions are difficult to impart to him, even at a much later period: e. g., heaven is too cold for him, his nose would freeze up there, etc.

He now asks questions a good deal in general, especially What is that called? e. g., What are chestnuts called? "Horse-chestnuts." What are these pears called? "Bergamots." He jests: Nein, Bergapots, or, What kind of mots are those? He will not eat an apple until he has learned what the name of it is.

He would often keep asking, in wanton sport, What are books called? or ducks? or soup?

He uses the words "to-day, to-morrow," and the names of the days of the week, but without understanding their meaning.

Instead of saying "zu Mittag gehen" (go to noon-meal), he says, logically, "zu Nachmittag gehen" (go to afternoon-meal).

The child does not know what is true, what is actual. I never can depend on his statements, except, as it appears, when he tells what he has had to eat. If riding is spoken of, e. g., he has a vivid picture of riding in his mind. To-day, when I asked him "Did you see papa ride?" he answered, Yes, indeed, papa rode away off into the woods. Yet his father had not gone to ride at all.

In the same way he often denies what he has seen and done. He comes out of his father's room and I ask, "Well, have you said good-night to papa?" No. His father told me afterward that the child had done it.

In the park we see some crested titmice, and I tell the nurse that, in the previous autumn, I saw for the first time Finnish parrots or cross-bills here, but that I have not seen any since. When the child's father asked later, "Well, Adolph, what did you see in the park?" Crested titmice, with golden crests (he adds out of his own invention) and Finnish parrots. He mixes up what he has heard and seen with what he imagines.

Truth has to be taught to a child. The less this is done, the easier it is to inoculate him with religious notions, i. e., of miraculous revelation; otherwise one must be prepared for many questions that are hard to answer.

29th month.—Sad stories affect him to tears, and he runs away.

Names of animals and plants he remembers often more easily than I do, and informs me. He reasons logically. Lately, when he asked for some foolish thing, I said to him, "Sha'n't I bring the moon for you, too?" No, said he, you can't do that, it is too high up in the clouds.

30th to 33d months.—He now often calls himself "Adolph," and then speaks of himself in the third person. He frequently confounds "I" and "you," and does not so consistently use the first person for the second, and the reverse. The transition is very gradually taking place to the correct use of the personal pronoun. Instead of my mamma, he repeats often, when he is in an affectionate mood, your mamma, your mamma.

Some new books are given to him. In the book of beetles there are shown to him the party-colored and the gray, so-called "sad," grave-digger (necrophorus). The latter now becomes prominent in his plays. "Why is he called the sad?" I asked the child yesterday. Ah! because he has no children, he answered, sorrowfully. Probably he has at some time overheard this sentence, which has no meaning for him, from a grown person. Adult persons' ways of speaking are thus employed without an understanding of them; pure verbal memory.

In the same way, he retains the names, in his new book, of butterflies (few of them German) better than I do, however crabbed and difficult they may be.

This (pure) memory for mere sounds or tones has become less strong in the now four-year-old boy, who has more to do with ideas and concepts, although his memory in other respects is good.

In the thirty-seventh month he sang, quite correctly, airs he had heard, and he could sing some songs to the piano, if they were frequently repeated with him. His fancy for this soon passed away, and these exercises ceased. On the other hand, he tells stories a great deal and with pleasure. His pronunciation is distinct, the construction of the sentences is mostly correct, apart from errors acquired from his nurse. The confounding of the first and second persons, the "I" and "you," or rather his use of the one for the other, has ceased, and the child designates himself by I, others by thou and you. Men are ordinarily addressed by him with thou, as his father and uncle are; women with you, as are even his mother and nurse. This continues for a long time. The boy of four years counts objects, with effort, up to six; numbers remain for a long time merely empty words (pp. 165, 172). In the same way, he has, as yet, but small notion of the order of the days of the week, and mixes up the names of them. To-day, to-morrow, yesterday, have gradually become more intelligible to him.

Notwithstanding the aphoristic character of these extracts from a full and detailed diary of observations, I have thought they ought to be given, because they form a valuable supplement to my observations in the nineteenth chapter, and show particularly how far independent thought may be developed, even in the second and third years, while there is, as yet, small knowledge of language. The differences in mental development between this child and mine are no less worthy of notice than are the agreements. Among the latter is the fact, extremely important in a pedagogical point of view, that, the less we teach the child the simple truth from the beginning, so much the easier it is to inoculate him permanently with religious notions, i. e., of "miraculous revelation." Fairy tales, ghost-stories, and the like easily make the childish imagination, of itself very active, hypertrophic, and cloud the judgment concerning actual events. Morals and nature offer such an abundance of facts with which we may connect the teaching of language, that it is better to dispense with legends. AEsop's fables combine the moral and the natural in a manner unsurpassable. My child tells me one of these fables every morning.

FOOTNOTES:

[D] The vowels have the Continental, not the English, sounds.

[E] Or possibly for the word drink, which a child of my acquaintance called ghing.—EDITOR.

[F] "The First Three Years of Childhood," edited and translated by Alice M. Christie; published in Chicago, 1885.

B.

NOTES CONCERNING LACKING, DEFECTIVE, AND ARRESTED MENTAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE FIRST YEARS OF LIFE.

The data we have concerning the behavior of children born, living, without head or without brain, and of microcephalous children, as well as of idiots and cretins more advanced in age, are of great interest, as helping us to a knowledge of the dependence of the first psychical processes upon the development of the brain, especially of the cerebral cortex. Unfortunately, these data are scanty and scattered.

Very important, too, for psychogenesis, are reports concerning the physiological condition and activity of children whose mental development has seemed to be stopped for months, or to be made considerably slower, or to be unusually hastened.

Scanty as are the notes I have met with on this matter, after much search, yet I collect and present some of them, in the hope that they will incite to more abundant and more careful observation in the future than has been made up to this time.

A good many data concerning the behavior of cretin children are to be found in the very painstaking book, "Neue Untersuchungen ueber den Kretinismus oder die Entartung des Menschen in ihren verschiedenen Graden und Formen" ("New Investigations concerning Cretinism, or Human Deterioration, in its Various Forms and Degrees"), by Maffei and Roesch (two vols, Erlangen, 1844). But, in order that these data should be of value, the observed anomalies and defects of the cerebral functions ought to be capable of being referred to careful morphological investigations of the cretin brain. As the authors give no results of post-mortem examinations, I simply refer to their work here.

I once had the opportunity myself of seeing a hemicephalus, living, who was brought to the clinic of my respected colleague, Prof. B. Schultze, in Jena. The child was of the male sex, and was born on the 1st of July, 1883, at noon, along with a perfectly normal twin sister. The parents are of sound condition. I saw the child for the first time on the 3d of July, at two o'clock. I found all the parts of the body, except the head, like those of ordinary children born at the right time. The head had on it a great red lump like a tumor, and came to an end directly over the eyes, going down abruptly behind; but, even if the tumor were supposed to be covered with skin, there would by no means be the natural arched formation of the cranium of a newly-born child. The face, too, absolutely without forehead, was smaller in comparison than the rest of the body. I found now, in the case of this child, already two days old, a remarkably regular breathing, a very cool skin—in the forenoon a specific warmth of 32 deg. C. had been found—and slight mobility. The eyes remained closed. When I opened them, without violence, the pupil was seen to be immobile. It did not react in the least upon the direct light of the sun on either side. The left eye did not move at all, the right made rare, convulsive, lateral movements. The conjunctiva was very much reddened. The child did not react in the least to pricks of a dull needle tried on all parts of the body, and reacted only very feebly to pinches; not at all to sound-stimuli, but regularly to stronger, prolonged cutaneous stimuli; in particular, the child moved its arms after a slap on the back, just like normal new-born children, and uttered very harsh, feeble tones when its back was rubbed. When I put my finger in its mouth vigorous sucking movements began, which induced me to offer the bottle—this had not yet been done. Some cubic centimetres of milk were vigorously swallowed, and soon afterward the breast of a nurse was taken. While this was going on I could feel quite distinctly with my finger, under the chin, the movements of swallowing. It was easy to establish the further fact that my finger, which I laid in the hollow of the child's hand, was frequently clasped firmly by the little fingers, which had well-developed nails. Not unfrequently, sometimes without previous contact, sometimes after it, the tip of the tongue, and even a larger part of the tongue, was thrust out between the lips, and once, when I held the child erect, he plainly gave a prolonged yawn. Finally, the fact seemed to me very noteworthy that, after being taken and held erect, sometimes also without any assignable outward occasion, the child inclined its head forward and turned it vigorously both to the right and to the left. When the child had sucked lustily a few times, it opened both eyes about two millimetres wide, and went on with its nursing. An assistant physician saw the child sneeze.