There is, however, a difference between the way in which these results look to us now, and the way in which they originally organised themselves. The child who begins to learn a language in the lesson-books and the grammars finds the members of it all, as it were, upon one level: adjectives, adverbs, prepositions, and verbs confront him with the same authority and rank. This appearance is deceptive: it may easily suggest that the words are not members in an organism, in and out of which they have developed. And this organism of thought has its individual types, expressed in the great families of human speech. Its generic form (as drawn out in a logical system) appears in different grades, with different degrees of fullness, in Altaic and Dravidian from what it does in Malay, or in Chinese, and these again have their own predominant categories as compared with those used in the American or African languages, or in Indo-Germanic and Semitic. If the Altaic languages e. g. are wanting in the verb proper, and manage with possessive suffixes and nouns; if the Semitic tenses display a poverty which contrasts with their wealth in Greek; and yet each group performs its function, we may infer that each speech has a complete organism, though it does not bring all its parts to adequate expression. All this distinction of 'parts of speech,' of forms, prefixes and suffixes, &c., is part of the life of language, embodying in more or less distinct organs the organisation of thought in the individual form it reached in that speech-type. Thus in Chinese there are strictly speaking no isolated words, nouns, or verbs: there are only abstract parts of a concrete sentence; and grammar in Chinese therefore has no accidence (no declensions, conjugations, &c.) but only syntax. Yet it is these abstract fragments which exist and seem to have independence and inherent meaning: whereas the unity in which they cohere to form a concrete context is the fleeting sentence of the moment. At the opposite extreme, again, the Mexican family of languages tend to incorporate relations to subject and object with the verb, in such a degree that the word almost becomes a sentence. Facts like these suggest that a science of the forms of language, in proportion as it generalises, tends to approach logic; and that logic will have a converse tendency to elevate to an unduly typical position the grammatical form of the languages with which the logician is best acquainted.