The uneasiness arising from our wants expresses itself by signs whenever help in supplying these wants is needed; hence the cries of children. They cry a great deal, and this is natural. Since all their sensations are those of feeling, children enjoy them in silence, when the sensations are pleasant; otherwise they express them in their own language, and ask relief. Now as long as children are awake they cannot be in a state of indifference; they either sleep or are moved by pleasure and pain. All our languages are the result of art. Whether there is a natural language, common to all mankind, has long been a matter of investigation. Without doubt there is such a language, and it is the one that children utter before they know how to talk. This language is not articulate, but it is accentuated, sonorous, intelligible. The using of our own language has led us to neglect this, even so far as to forget it altogether. Let us study children, and we shall soon acquire it again from them. Nurses are our teachers in this language. They understand all their nurslings say, they answer them, they hold really connected dialogues with them. And, although they pronounce words, these words are entirely useless; the child understands, not the meaning of the words, but the accent which accompanies them. To the language of the voice is added the no less forcible language of gesture. This gesture is not that of children's feeble hands; it is that seen in their faces. It is astonishing to see how much expression these immature countenances already have. From moment to moment, their features change with inconceivable quickness. On them you see the smile, the wish, the fear, spring into life, and pass away, like so many lightning flashes. Each time you seem to see a different countenance. They certainly have much more flexible facial muscles than ours. On the other hand, their dull eyes tell us almost nothing at all. Such is naturally the character of their expression when all their wants are physical. Sensations are made known by grimaces, sentiments by looks. As the first state of man is wretchedness and weakness, so his first utterances are complaints and tears. The child feels his need and cannot satisfy it; he implores aid from others by crying. If he is hungry or thirsty, he cries; if he is too cold or too warm, he cries; if he wishes to move or to be kept at rest, he cries; if he wishes to sleep or to be moved about, he cries. The less control he has of his own mode of living, the oftener he asks those about him to change it. He has but one language, because he feels, so to speak, but one sort of discomfort. In the imperfect condition of his organs, he does not distinguish their different impressions; all ills produce in him only a sensation of pain.