Before stating the peculiarities of the Yao language, I shall illustrate the subject by reference to the speech of children. This form of illustration applies to unwritten languages generally; and although not much alluded to in books on Philology, it is, I venture to think, exceedingly important, not only for the theory of language, but for the guidance of persons that are confronted with unwritten tongues. While children are learning to speak, their slowness comes not entirely from the intellect, but from want of command of the vocal organs. On encountering a word that they cannot pronounce, they frame a word of their own which they employ instead. In imitating the word table, a child may say dodo, a sound which at first sight seems to have no relation to the word “table”. Yet the child employs it uniformly, and often for more than a year. Such imperfect imitations are not by accident: they follow laws similar to those principles that operate in changing the same original sound into the quinque of Latin, the pump of Welsh, and the five of English.

Form of Words.—The syllable easiest for a child is a single consonant followed by a vowel. For basket a child says tase; for purse, he says tuse. Where two consonants come together, as the sk and rs of these words, the child throws out one of them. He also drops the final t in basket, and obtains a syllable ending with a vowel; and where no vowel exists he supplies one, as in tuse for purse (purs).

Beginning of Syllables.—Some maintain that we cannot begin a syllable without a consonant, or at least an aspirate like what the Greeks wrote. Children seem to be exceptions as they leave out a difficult consonant and begin with a vowel—that becomes at as well as tat but even in at there exists the kind of aspirate contended for. In the Yao language syllables almost always begin with a consonant. Here arises an important principle of spelling. I should not like to decide whether we ought to write Ya-o or Ya-wo. The natives themselves had no writing till we taught them, and on words like Yao, my best pupils were divided. Some pronounced and spelt Yao, others Yawo. I believe that the sound at first was Yawo, and etymology in many cases bears out my conclusion. But in course of time the original Yawo may be rendered Yao, as an original honest has become onest.

End of Syllables.—It is not so easy to end a syllable with a consonant. The child’s earlier syllables end with vowels as papa. The difficulty of pulling up the voice at once is seen in the utterance of certain words like rock, especially by Scotchmen who often unconsciously pronounce as if the word were rocka. All Yao syllables end with a vowel.

Parts of Speech.—The language of childhood shows that man observes things before he observes the relations between them. Nouns and verbs come before the other parts of speech, but when first employed they are more like interjections. The imperative of the verb, which is as near to an interjection as may be, forms a large element in infantile speech: thus adjectives when first used are in effect imperatives or interjections. The expression Doto dad (doctor bad) is synonymous with Doto, go-way (doctor, go away). Whether nouns or verbs come first is hardly worth discussing, because it is misleading to apply the distinction of parts of speech at a stage where speech has no parts. But it may be noted that what we call nouns are used by the child like verbs: thus, No tair (chair) means “Do not put me on the chair”.

The Meaning of Nouns.—Nouns at first denote individuals like papa, mamma. But the child by and by sums up in these words a great deal of meaning, and if he were placed in a world where he saw no white woman but his mother, the next female that appeared he would call mamma. So if the only animal he is acquainted with be a dog, he at first calls goats, sheep, or rabbits all dogs.

Inflexion of Nouns.—A child sees no need of inflexions, and forms his first sentences accordingly. He says more man for more men, see more camel for see more camels. After he feels the need of a plural, his first impulse is to express it by old materials, and then see more camel is used where the meaning undoubtedly is see the camels or see camels. The possessive case is similarly dispensed with: for John’s book we get John boop. This has a strong relevancy in the explanation of African tongues, where Kumlomba brother is used for Kumlomba’s brother.

Adjectives are at first used exactly like nouns. We tell a child it is hot in there, and he says hot in ’ere, and immediately adds fire in ’ere, thus showing that he considers hot as a substitute for the corresponding noun. Moreover adjectives, on their first appearance, are often used to make compound nouns in which the adjective meaning is lost. The child says, Dem dood-doy for James is a good boy. Dood-doy is really one word, and is rather a noun than an adjective. This explains why it is that in African tongues simple adjectives are very few. In the Yao language, adjectives being so unimportant, have no inflexion for comparison. Articles are entirely dispensed with by children. Look at the man, look at a man, are both rendered ook man.

Pronouns are not easily understood at first. A child hears the words, Come, and I will bathe you: by and by he asks for his bathe yow, bathe-you being understood as a single word, which he construes as a noun. It is long before he says I did it; he says James did it instead. Also for my boot he says Dem toot (James’ boot). Indeed, the interrogative pronoun who seems to be understood before the personal pronouns.

Relative pronouns come very much later. Hence in African tongues they are poorly represented. They resemble conjunctions, and are introduced into the vocabulary of childhood, we believe, even later than they.

Verbs.—Children are fond of viewing a complex phenomenon as an action. When we tell a child to look at the men tying on a sail, we call forth the expression tat tying on for that is a tying on. The subject and object are thus ignored in comparison with the action itself. So in African tongues the verb is of overwhelming importance. Besides the imperative, one part of the verb frequently used in childhood is the participle: as James eating food for James is eating his food. The eating is used as a noun or an infinitive. The infinitive is largely used in Yao to express action in general, and the indicative mood is formed from it.

Adverbs are by children often used as imperatives, as quick! (Adverbs of place as well as demonstrative adjectives are soon used in company with vocal gestures.) Negation is early expressed by putting no before verbs or nouns, as, Doto no go, for the doctor did not go, no home, for we will not go home.

Often adverbs make but one idea with the adjective or verb that they are attached to, as go-away. The same thing is seen in the case of prepositions. Put on your coat is rendered tut on toat and even ton toat, pu falling out and ton being used for a verb. So, put off your coat is toff toat. This principle illustrates what has been called applied verbs and causative verbs. A neuter verb like put is made transitive by placing another word like on after it, and this other word is liable to become part of the verb, as if put on was the transitive form of put. The principle is of the greatest use in explaining African derivative verbs. Again, children often omit prepositions. Look man, is used for look at a man; man ’os for a man on a horse.

As regards conjunctions, simple people like children are often content to express one idea or sentence at a time. When they have to join two ideas or sentences they put them side by side without any connecting word. James and papa becomes in the infantile language James, papa.

In the same way, connecting words like the logical copula, are at first omitted, as Dem dad boy, for James is a bad boy. The tendency to omit the copula, throws light on the earlier use of adjectives. When the child says bad-boy, the expression is to be taken as a single word, and we may call it a noun. But often the child sooner understands, boy bad, the equivalent to him, of the boy is bad; which thought is ultimately developed as it is written, though at first the child views it as being the equivalent of boy, go away.

Unwritten languages are marked by a peculiar graphicness, arising partly from the omission of connecting words, and partly from other causes. The expression, “if you be sufficiently warm, you will be sufficiently braw (well-dressed),” is very weak, when compared with the proverbial “warm enough, braw enough”. A savage, or a child, would feel it very tame to say, “if you do not cover your well, some one will walk into it”. He would say, “cover your well, a man will go into it, plump!” Instead of an intangible, “one cannot say what one would think, if one fell into a well,” the more natural language of childhood is, “I cannot say what I would think, &c.,” or, “you cannot tell what you would think, &c.” Instead of “he stabbed him very deeply,” we have, “he put the knife into him that length!”

The above remarks on the imitation of sounds and speech by infants, besides illustrating an unwritten language, will enable a reader, to whom the subject really is new, to understand how languages that are of the same family, may yet differ immensely. It is to be remembered that different individuals imitate differently. While some find it easier to throw out consonants, others put them in, as some men find it easy to say Amelia-r-an for Amelia Ann. Again, children often modify their vowels to compensate for some consonant they cannot pronounce. When a child says tate, for blanket, the a is emphasised through an effort to embrace the n. Some African races say Nyansa, others Nyasa, with the a so modified that we might write, Nyaasa, or Nyassa.

Like children beginning to speak, certain races have few consonants, and are obliged to throw much work upon them. Thus one tribe had to call Captain Cook, the first Englishman that they met, Taptain Toot, making the t do duty for the c (k).

When we think of the various ways in which a language may be modified, we are much struck by studying a work like Koelle’s Polyglotta Africana, which points to striking affinities, traceable among African tongues. Moreover, such works are liable to be at first obscured through misleading data. Perplexity is caused by words from languages that had not been perfectly studied at the time. Thus where there are two words for “woman,” the philologist may hear only one, which instead of being the proper instrument for tracing affinities, may be derived from another word within the special dialect. Again in one language an old word for “woman,” may have been superseded, although some derivatives from it yet remain. As more languages are gradually reduced, a rich harvest awaits the philologist in Africa.

These illustrations from the speech of children, include nearly all that will be expected from one giving a general account of an African language. We are aware of the danger of converting illustrations into principles without stating their limitations: as did the man who wanted to prove that all speech was but a development of the utterances of the lower animals. After making observations on two of his children, he found his theory much confirmed; but when he tried the third child, its first utterance was, “Don’t tease, go away”. This wonderful sentence brought his theory into discredit; but it is clear that I may claim this child in confirmation of what I have adduced. Its first utterance is made up of imperatives, and this on our principles, is just what it ought to be!

It remains only to give a short account of points not yet touched on.

Sounds. Vowels and consonants are much modified for euphony. The consonant changes may be exemplified in connection with the letter n, e.g., ku-n-lola becomes kundola; and in ku-n-sosa the n is entirely dropped, but the preceding vowel is lengthened, and the word might be written kuusosa. In this way,

In African spelling, some advocate the disbanding of j and ch in favour of tsh and dzh, but the changes of ch and j after the letter n afford an argument against writing these letters tsh and dzh in the Yao language. Thus, for kunchondelela (kuntshondelela) we hear kunjondelela (kundzhondelela), and not kundshondelela. But such questions turn greatly on expediency.

Words.—An English word like loved, is found to consist of two elements, a simpler word love, and the ending d. If the simpler word love be not traced farther back it is called a root. The other element d indicates the modification of the root. In order to give an account of such a word we have to explain (1) the root, (2) the modification of it. The modification of it by the addition of d is well explained when we have found that d is for did.

But how do roots arise? A great many are imitations of sounds in nature, others may be utterances which were at first accidentally associated with certain objects.

Yao words we may explain in the following manner. In the case of kulemba (to write, mark), we may suppose that the root lemb or rather lembe expresses the sound made by some scratching instrument. Hence we have lemba the shortest form of the verb. From this verbal root we may form ten nouns which express different meanings and fall into ten classes. Strangely enough these classes correspond to a great extent with the classifications of the noun stated in some English grammars (see Bain’s Grammar). They may be exemplified as follows:—

These ten classes of nouns may be formed in connection with every verb. The 2nd class, besides embracing abstract nouns includes the names of all trees that begin with m; while the third class embraces the names of birds and animals, especially such as appear in flocks; as deer, sheep; and the words in this class have now no plural though there is some evidence that they had a plural formerly.

Sentences.—A noun in a sentence demands the concord of adjectives, pronouns, and verbs. This is the only important concord in the language. The absence of gender is a great peculiarity. A native may make a long speech about a person while his audience do not know whether it is a man or a woman that is spoken of. Again, when a native speaks of persons it may be impossible to tell whether he means one person, or several. Originally, the singular of the third person was distinct from the plural, but by the use of a plural of excellence one man is habitually spoken of as they. This is a refinement of politeness.[15] In the same way the English language employs you instead of thou: these natives go farther on the same lines, throwing away not only number, but person also. In England, where the question is asked “where are you going” the reply will be “I am going to your house”. The African for the same meaning would reply “I am going to his house”. Traces of the same refinement exist in England: thus, instead of “What do you want” we may hear “What does his Reverence want?”

The following will show the method of tense formation. The present indicative, I love, may be analysed into I-a-loving or I-to-love (person, preposition, and verb). The perfect tense, indicating completed action, is made up of the root meaning love, and an affix which seems to be akin to a demonstrative pronoun, and signifies that the action is there or at a distance now. One future tense is formed from a participle with a negative, so that I shall love = I-a-loving but-not-yet.

These are the three leading tenses, but the fertility of tense forms is amazing—thus we have a tense for “Why should I neglect to love?” Yao has a great wealth of participles, which seem to be wanting entirely in Chinyasa.

Derived verbs are numerous. From a word leka, to leave, we have lechela (for lekela) leave for; lechesya and lekasya (whose terminations remind one of the Greek idso) with causative meanings; lekana (= leka na; na = with) leave each other, or together; lekanya, separate with causative lekanisya; as also lekwa and lecheka with passive and neuter meanings.

In the study of these languages we are often reminded that what are now to us familiar words, were really formed with much difficulty, and we are not so ready to laugh at the Etymologist who derived the Latin word nihil for nothing from a bean, as if it originally meant “not a single pea”! In some African dialects there is great difficulty in getting a word to translate “nothing”. Yet, after all, the English language has not much to boast of here; some of these dialects can also furnish a derivative word like no-thing.