contrasted as “error” and “truth.” The second great turning-point was the use of _grammar_. Besides the name there was now the sentence, besides the verbal designation the verbal relation, and thereupon reflection--which is a thinking in word-relations that follows from the perception of things for which word-labels exist--became the decisive characteristic of man’s waking-consciousness. The question whether the communication-languages already contained effective “sentences” before the appearance of the genuine “name” is a difficult one. The sentence, in the _present_ acceptation of the word, has indeed developed within these languages according to its own conditions and with its own phases, but nevertheless it postulates the _prior_ existence of the name. Sentences as conceptual relations become possible only with the intellectual change that accompanied their birth. And we must assume further that within the highly developed wordless languages one character or trait after another, in the course of continuous practical use, was transformed into verbal form and as such fell into its place in an increasingly solid structure, the prime form of our present-day languages. Thus the inner build of all verbal languages rests upon foundations of far older construction, and for its further development is _not_ dependent upon the stock of words and its destiny. It is in fact just the reverse. For with syntax the original group of individual _names_ was transformed into a system of words, whose character was given, not by their proper, but by their grammatical significance. The name made its appearance as something novel and entirely self-contained. But word-species arose as elements of the sentence, and thereafter the contents of waking-consciousness streamed in overflowing profusion into this world of words, demanding to be labelled and represented in it, until finally even “all” became, in one shape or another, a word and available for the thought-process.