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Title: The Mind of the Child, Part II - The Development of the Intellect, International Education - Series Edited By William T. Harris, Volume IX.
Author: Preyer, William T., 1841-1897
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Mind of the Child, Part II - The Development of the Intellect, International Education - Series Edited By William T. Harris, Volume IX." ***
International Education Series
EDITED BY WILLIAM T. HARRIS, A. M., LL. D.
_VOLUME IX_.
THE
INTERNATIONAL EDUCATION SERIES.
12mo, cloth, uniform binding.
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_INTERNATIONAL EDUCATION SERIES_
THE MIND OF THE CHILD
PART II
THE DEVELOPMENT
OF THE INTELLECT
_OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING
THE MENTAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE HUMAN BEING
IN THE FIRST YEARS OF LIFE_
BY
W. PREYER
PROFESSOR OF PHYSIOLOGY IN JENA
TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL GERMAN
BY H. W. BROWN
TEACHER IN THE STATE NORMAL SCHOOL AT WORCESTER, MASS.
NEW YORK
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1895
COPYRIGHT, 1889,
BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
EDITOR'S PREFACE.
This second volume contains the further investigations of Professor
Preyer on the mind of the child. The former volume contained the first
and second portions, devoted respectively to the development of the
senses and of the will. The present volume contains the third part,
treating of the development of the intellect; and three appendixes are
added containing supplementary matter.
Professor Preyer considers that the development of the power of using
language is the most prominent index to the unfolding of the intellect.
He differs with Professor Max Müller, however, on the question whether
the operation of thinking can be carried on without the use of words
(see the recent elaborate work of the latter on "The Science of
Thought").
At my suggestion, the painstaking translator of this book has prepared
a full conspectus, showing the results of Professor Preyer's careful
observations in a chronological order, arranged by months. This
considerable labor will render the book more practical, inasmuch as it
will enable each reader to see at a glance the items of development of
the child in the several departments brought together in epochs. This
makes it possible to institute comparative observations under the
guidance of Professor Preyer's method. I think that I do not exaggerate
the value of this conspectus when I say that it doubles the value of the
work to the reader.
WILLIAM T. HARRIS.
CONCORD, MASS., _November, 1888_.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
PREFACE BY THE EDITOR v
CONSPECTUS SHOWING THE PROGRESS OF THE CHILD BY MONTHS ix
THIRD PART.
_DEVELOPMENT OF THE INTELLECT._
CHAPTER
XVI.--DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHILD'S INTELLECT INDEPENDENT
OF LANGUAGE 3
XVII.--LEARNING TO SPEAK 33
1. Disturbances of Speech in Adults 34
(1) Periphero-Impressive or Perceptive Disturbances, 36.
(2) Central Disturbances, 37.
(3) Periphero-Expressive or Articulatory Disturbances, 38.
2. The Organic Conditions of Learning to Speak 42
3. Parallel between the Disturbances of Speech in
Adults and the Imperfections of Speech in the Child 45
I. Lalopathy, 47.
A. The Impressive Peripheral Processes
disturbed--Deafness, 47.
B. The Central Processes disturbed--Dysphasia, 47.
(1) The Sensory Processes centrally disturbed, 47.
(2) The Sensori-motor Processes of Diction
disturbed, 48.
(3) The Motor Processes centrally disturbed, 49.
C. The Expressive Peripheral Processes disturbed, 54.
(1) Dyslalia and Alalia, 54.
(2) Literal Pararthria or Paralalia, 56.
(3) Bradylalia, or Bradyarthria, 57.
II. Dysphasia, 58.
III. Dysmimia, 62.
4. Development of Speech in the Child 64
XVIII.--FIRST SOUNDS AND BEGINNINGS OF SPEECH IN THE CASE OF A
CHILD OBSERVED DAILY DURING HIS FIRST THREE YEARS 99
XIX.--DEVELOPMENT OF THE FEELING OF SELF, THE "I"-FEELING 189
XX.--SUMMARY OF RESULTS 208
APPENDIXES.
APPENDIX A.--Comparative Observations concerning the Acquirement
of Speech by German and Foreign Children 221
(_a_) Diary of the Child of the Baroness von Taube, of
Esthonia, 261.
APPENDIX B.--Notes concerning Lacking, Defective, and Arrested
Mental Development in the First Years of Life 272
APPENDIX C.--Reports concerning the Process of Learning
to See, on the part of Persons born blind, but acquiring
Sight through Surgical Treatment. Also some Critical
Remarks 286
I. The Chesselden Case, 286.
II, III. The Ware Cases, 288.
IV, V. The Home Cases, 296.
VI. The Wardrop Case, 300.
VII. The Franz Case, 306.
Final Remarks, 312.
A CONSPECTUS OF THE OBSERVATIONS OF PROFESSOR PREYER ON THE MIND OF THE
CHILD.
ARRANGED CHRONOLOGICALLY BY MONTHS, FOR THE CONVENIENCE OF THOSE WHO
WISH TO VERIFY THESE OBSERVATIONS, OR TO USE THEM AS A GUIDE IN THEIR
OWN INVESTIGATIONS.
BY H. W. BROWN.
FIRST MONTH.
SENSES.[A]
SIGHT.--_Light._--Five minutes after birth, slight sensibility to light
(2). Second day, sensitiveness to light of candle (3). Sixth and seventh
days, pleasure in moderately bright daylight (3, 4). Ninth and tenth
days, sensitiveness greater at waking than soon afterward (3). Sleeping
babes close the eyes more tightly when light falls on the eyes (4).
Eleventh day, pleasure in light of candle and in bright object (3).
_Discrimination of Colors._--Twenty-third day, pleasure in sight of
rose-colored curtain (6).
_Movements of Eyelids._--First to eleventh day, shutting and opening of
eyes (22). Irregular movements (23). Lid closed at touch of lashes from
sixth day on (26). Twenty-fifth day, eyes opened and shut when child is
spoken to or nodded to (30).
Pleasure shown by opening eyes wide, displeasure by shutting them
tightly; third, sixteenth, and twenty-first days (31).
_Movements of Eyes._--First day, to right and left (35). Tenth day,
non-coördinated movements (36). Third week, irregularity prevails (37).
_Direction of Look._--Eleventh day, to father's face and to the light
(43). Upward look (43). Twenty-third day, active looking begins (44).
Twenty-third and thirtieth days, a moving light followed (44).
_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--Twelfth day, hypermetropia (60).
HEARING.--First days, all children deaf (72). Fourth day, child hears
noises like clapping of hands (81). Eleventh and twelfth days, child
quieted by father's voice: hears whistling. Twenty-fifth day, pulsation
of lids at sound of low voice. Twenty-sixth day, starting at noise of
dish. Thirtieth day, fright at loud voice (82).
FEELING.--_Sensitiveness to Contact._--At birth (97-105). Second and
third days, starting at gentle touches. Seventh day, waked by touch on
face (105). Eleventh day, lid closed at touch of conjunctiva more slowly
than in adults (103).
_Perception of Touch._--First gained in nursing (110).
_Sensibility to Temperature._--At birth, cooling unpleasant. Warm bath
agreeable. Seventh day, eyes opened wide with pleasure from bath (112).
First two or three years, cold water disagreeable (114). Mucous membrane
of mouth, tongue, lips, very sensitive to cold and warmth (115).
TASTE.--_Sensibility._--At birth (116-118). First day, sugar licked
(118). Second day, milk licked (119). Differences among newly-born
(120). Sensation not merely general (122).
_Comparison of Impressions._--During nursing period child prefers sweet
taste (123). Second day, child accepts food that on the fourth he
refuses (124).
SMELL.--_Faculty at Birth._--Strong-smelling substances produce mimetic
movements (130).
_Discrimination._--Eighth day, groping about for nipple (134).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--_Pleasure._--First day, in nursing; in
the bath; in the sight of objects; in the light (141).
_Discomfort._--First days, from cold, wet, hunger, tight clothing, etc.
(147).
_Hunger._--First days, manifested in sucking movements, crying,
restlessness (152). Cry differs from that of pain or of satisfaction.
Other signs of hunger (153).
_Satiety._--Third to fifth week, the nipple pushed away with the lips:
mouth-piece of bottle ditto. Tenth day, smile after eating. Fourth week,
signs of satisfaction; laughing, opening and half shutting eyes;
inarticulate sounds (157).
_Fatigue._--From crying and nursing (159). Second and third weeks, from
use of senses (160). First month, sleep lasts two hours; sixteen of the
twenty-four hours spent in sleep (162).
WILL.
_Impulsive Movements._--Outstretching and bending of arms and legs just
after birth; contractions, spreading and bending of fingers (205).
Grimaces (207). Wrinkling of forehead (309). First day, arms and legs
take same position as before birth (206). Second week, stretching of
limbs after waking (205).
_Reflex Movements._--In case of light-impressions (34-42). First cry
(213). Sneezing of newly-born (214). Coughing, ditto. (216). Seventh
day, yawning (215). First day, spreading of toes when sole of foot is
touched (224). First day, hiccough (219). First five days, choking
(218). Wheezing, yawning (215). Seventh day, respiration irregular
(217). Ninth day, clasping (243). Tenth day, lips protruded (283).
Fourteenth day, movement of left hand toward left temple (220).
Twenty-fourth day, snoring (215).
_Instinctive Movements._--First to third day, hands to face. Fifth day,
fingers clasp firmly; toes do not. Sixth day, hands go into eye (244).
Seventh day, pencil held with toes, but no seizing. Ninth day, no
clasping by sleeping child (245). Sucking (257-261). At end of first
week, lateral movements of head (264). Third week, clasping with
fingers, not with thumb (245).
_Expressive Movements._--Twenty-sixth day, smile of contentment (296).
Twenty-third day, tears flow (307). Crying, with tears, and whimpering,
become signs of mental states (308).
INTELLECT.[B]
Memory first active in the departments of taste and of smell; then in
touch, sight, hearing (5). Comparison of tastes (I, 123). Vowel-sounds
in first month (67). Sounds in first six months (74). Sounds made in
crying and screaming, _u-ä_ (101). Twenty-second day, association of
the breast with nursing (I, 260).
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Under "Senses" and "Will" the numbers in parentheses indicate pages
in Vol. I.
[B] Under "Intellect" the numbers in parentheses indicate pages from
Vol. II, unless otherwise stated.
SECOND MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Light._--Bright or highly-colored objects give pleasure (4).
_Discrimination of Colors._--Forty-second day, pleasure in sight of
colored tassels (7).
_Movements of Eyelids._--Fifth week, irregular movements of lids. Eighth
week, lid covering iris (23). Twenty-fifth day, opening and shutting
eyes in surprise (30). Fifty-seventh and fifty-eighth days, winking.
Sixtieth day, quick opening and shutting in fright (26).
_Movements of Eyes._--Thirty-first day, strabismus rare. Forty-sixth to
fiftieth day, very rare. Fifty-fifth day, irregular movements rare, but
appearing in sleep till the sixtieth day (37).
_Direction of Look._--Fifth week, toward the Christmas-tree (45).
Thirty-ninth day, toward tassels swinging (46). Seventh week, moving
lamp or bright object followed (45).
HEARING.--Fifth week, child does not sleep if persons walk or speak.
Starting at noises. Sixth week, starting at slight noises even in sleep;
quieted by mother's singing. Seventh week, fright at noise is greater
(83). Sensibility to musical tones, ditto. Eighth week, tones of piano
give pleasure (84).
TOUCH.--Thirty-eighth day, movements caused by touch of water (107).
Forty-first day, reflex movement of arms caused by a general slight
agitation (105, 106). Fiftieth and fifty-fifth days, closing of eyelid
at touch of eyelash (103). Seventh week, upper lip sensitive (100).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Pleasure in musical sounds (141); in
sight of human face (142). Reflexive laughing (145). Sixth week,
fretfulness and hunger (155). Eighth week, fatigue after hearing
piano-playing (160). Sleep of three, sometimes of five or six hours
(162).
WILL.
_Impulsive Movements._--Of eyes before waking, also twistings and
raisings of trunk (206). Seventh week, number of respirations
twenty-eight to the minute (217).
_Reflex Movements._--Of right arm at touch of left temple (220).
Forty-third day, sneezing caused by witch-meal (215). Fifth week,
vomiting (219). Eighth week, laughing caused by tickling (225).
_Instinctive Movements._--Seventh week, clasping not yet with thumb.
Eighth week, the four fingers of the child embrace the father's finger
(245).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Forty-third day, first consonant; child says _am-ma_; also
vowel-sound _ao_. Forty-fourth day, syllables _ta-hu_; forty-sixth day,
_gö_, _örö_; fifty-first day, _ara_; eighth and ninth weeks, _örrö_,
_arra_, frequent (102).
THIRD MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Movements of the Eyelids._--Eyelid not completely
raised when child looked up (23). Irregular movements of eyes appear
(though rare) up to tenth week; at three months are no more observed
(37).
_Direction of Look._--Sixty-first day, child looked at his mother and
gave a cry of joy; the father's face made the child gay. Sixty-second
day, look directed at a swinging lamp (46).
_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--Ninth week, accommodation apparent
(54).
HEARING.--Ninth week, sound of watch arouses attention; other
noises (84). Eleventh week, head moved in direction of sound (85).
Eighty-first day ditto. (47). Twelfth week, sudden turning of head
toward sounding body (85).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--_Pleasure._--Smile at sight
of the mother's face (145).
_Unpleasant Feeling._--From some internal cause (151).
_Fatigue._--Sucking tiresome (159). Sleep of four or five hours without
waking (162).
_Hunger._--Tenth week, child hungry three times or more in a night
(155).
WILL.
_Reflex Movements._--Respirations, thirteenth week, twenty-seven to the
minute (217). Hiccough frequent; stopped by use of sweetened water
(219).
_Instinctive Movements._--Eleventh week, pencil held, but mechanically;
thumb not used in clasping (245). Twelfth week, eighty-fourth day,
contra-position of thumb reflexive (245, 246). Thirteenth week, thumb
follows fingers more readily (246). Eleventh week, head balanced
occasionally. Twelfth week, some gain in holding head. Thirteenth week,
head tolerably well balanced (264). Seizing merely apparent (246). No
voluntary movement (266).
INTELLECT.
Eighty-first day, seeking direction of sound (I, 47).
_Speech._--Consonant _m_ frequent (67). Sixty-fourth day, _ma_ (102).
Sixty-fifth day, _nei nei nei_ and once _a-omb_. Sixty-sixth day, _la_,
_grei_, _aho_, _ma_. Sixty-ninth day, _mömm_ and _ngö_. Seventy-first
day, _ra-a-ao_. Seventy-sixth day, _nä_ and _n[=a]i-n_. Seventy-eighth
day, _habu_. Twelfth week, _a-i_ and _u[=a]o_, _ä-o-a_, _ä-a-a_ and
_o-ä-ö_ (103).
_Feeling of Self._--Eleventh week, child does not see himself in mirror
(197).
FOURTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Movements of Eyelids._--Ninety-eighth day, brow wrinkled when
look is upward (24). Fifty-seventh day, winking (26). Fifteenth and
sixteenth weeks, ditto (27). Seventeenth week, objects seized are moved
toward eyes; grasping at objects too distant (55).
_Movements of Eyes._--No more non-coördinated (37).
_Direction of Look._--Fourteenth week, following person moving. One
hundred and first day, following pendulum. Sixteenth week, gazing at
sides and ceiling of carriage and at objects (48).
HEARING.--Sixteenth week, head turned toward sound with certainty of
reflex (85).
FEELING.--Seventeenth week, eyes are closed when a drop of water touches
lashes (103). Fourteenth week, sleeping child throws up arms at sudden
touch (106).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Pleasure in grasping at objects (142).
Fifteenth week, intervals between meals three or four hours (155). Sleep
lasts five or six hours (162). Twenty-second week, astonishment at
seeing father after separation (173). Fourteenth week, smile of satiety.
Seventeenth week, joy in seeing image in mirror (297).
WILL.
_Reflex Movements._--Fourteenth week, right hand to right eye (220).
_Instinctive Movements._--Fourteenth week, hands hold objects longer
and with contra-position of thumb. Fifteenth and sixteenth weeks, no
intentional seizing. One hundred and fourteenth day, ditto (246).
Seventeenth week, efforts to take hold of ball; ball moved to mouth
and eyes. One hundred and eighteenth day, frequent attempts at seizing;
following day, grasping gives pleasure (247). Fourteenth week, head
seldom falls forward. Sixteenth week, head held up permanently (264),
this the first distinct manifestation of will (265). Fourteenth week,
child sits, his back supported (267). Seventeenth week, biting (261).
_Imitative Movements._--Fifteenth week, beginnings of imitation; trying
to purse the lips (283). Seventeenth week, protruding tip of tongue
(284).
_Expressive Movements._--Sixteenth week, turnings of head and nodding,
not significant; head turned away in refusal (314).
_Deliberate Movements._--Fourteenth week, attentive looking at person
moving; one hundred and first day, at pendulum swinging (48). Fifteenth
week, imitation, pursing lips (283). Sixteenth and seventeenth weeks,
voluntary gazing at image in mirror (343).
INTELLECT.
Intellect participates in voluntary movements (I, 338).
_Speech._--Fourteenth week, _ntö_, _ha_, _lö_, _na_. Fifteenth week,
_nan-nana_, _n[=a]-n[=a]_, _nanna_, in refusal (103). Sixteenth week, in
screaming, _ä-[)u] ä-[)u] ä_, _[=a]-[)u] [=a]-[)u]_, _[)u]-ä [)u]-ä_,
_[=u]-[=u]-[=a]-ö_, _amme-a_; in discomfort,
_[=u][)a]-[=u][)a]-[=u][)a]-[=u][)a]_ (104).
_Feeling of Self._--Seventeenth week, child gazes at his own hand (193).
One hundred and thirteenth day, for the first time regards his image
with attention (197). One hundred and sixteenth day, laughs at his image
(198).
FIFTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Direction of Look._--Looking inquiringly (48).
_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--Reaching too short (55).
HEARING.--Nineteenth week, pleasure in sound of crumpling of paper by
himself. Twenty-first week, beating of gong enchains attention (85).
Disturbed by noise (86).
TOUCH.--Auditory canal sensitive (106).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Pleasure in crumpling paper, tearing
newspapers and rolling them into balls, pulling at glove or hair,
ringing of a bell (142, 143). Eighteenth week, discomfort shown by
depressing angles of mouth (149). Eighteenth week, nights of ten to
eleven hours without taking food (155). Eighteenth week, desire shown
by stretching out arms (247).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--Eighteenth week, objects seized are held
firmly and carried to the mouth (247). Nineteenth week, child takes
bit of meat and carries to mouth. One hundred and twenty-third day,
lips protruded in connection with seizing (248).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Consonant _k_, _gö_, _kö_, _[)a]gg[)e]gg[)e]kö_. First five
months, screaming sounds _u_, _ä_, _ö_, _a_, with _ü_ and _o_; _m_
almost the only consonant (104).
_Feeling of Self._--Discovery by child that he can cause sensations of
sound (192). Looking at his own fingers very attentively (194).
SIXTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Movements of Eyelids._--Twenty-fifth-week, winking caused by
puff of wind in face (27).
_Interpretation of what is seen._--Child laughs when nodded to by
father; observes father's image in mirror, etc. (62).
TASTE.--Medicine taken if sweetened (124). One hundred and fifty-sixth
day, child refuses breast, having had sweeter milk. End of twenty-third
week, milk of new nurse taken, also cow's milk, meat-broth (125).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Pleasure in grasping increases (142).
Arms moved up and down when child is nodded to (144). Twenty-third week,
depression of angles of mouth and cry of distress caused by harsh
address (149). Hunger apparent in persistent gaze at bottle, crying, and
opening of mouth (154). Sleep of six to eight hours (162). Astonishment
at seeing father after separation, and at sight of stranger (173).
WILL.
_Reflex Movements._--Sneezing caused, on one hundred and seventieth day,
by blowing on the child (215).
_Instinctive Movements._--Twenty-second week, child raised himself to
sitting posture (267). Twenty-third week, ditto; pleased at being placed
upright (275).
_Expressive Movements._--Laugh accompanied by raisings and droppings of
arms when pleasure is great (299). Arm-movements that seemed like
defensive movements (314). "Crowing" a sign of pleasure (II, 104).
INTELLECT.
Use of means to cause flow of milk (12).
_Speech._--Twenty-second week, _ögö_, _ma-ö-[)e]_, _h[)a]_, _[=a]_,
_ho-ich_. "Crowing" and aspirate _ha_, and _brrr-há_, signs of pleasure
(104). So _aja_, _örrgö_, _[=a]-[=a]-i-[)o]-[=a]_, _eu_ and _oeu_
(French) and _ä_ and _ö_ (German), also _ijä_; _i_ and _u_ rare (105).
_Feeling of Self._--Twenty-third week, discrimination between touch of
self and of foreign object (194; I, 109). Twenty-fourth week, child
gazes at glove and at his fingers alternately (194). Twenty fourth week,
sees father's image in mirror and turns to look at father. Twenty-fifth
week, stretches hand toward his own image. Twenty-sixth week, sees image
of father and compares it with original (198).
SEVENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Movements of Eyelids._--End of seventh month, opening and
shutting of fan causes opening and shutting of eyes (30).
_Direction of Look._--Twenty-ninth week, looking at flying sparrow (48).
Thirtieth week, child does not look after objects let fall (49).
_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--Accommodation is perfect (55).
_Interpretation of what is seen._--Staring at strange face (62).
HEARING.--Gaze at person singing; joy in military music (86).
FEELING.--Child became pale in bath (115).
TASTE.--New tastes cause play of countenance (124). One hundred and
eighty-fifth day, cow's milk boiled, with egg, is liked; leguminous food
not (125).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Pleasure in his image in mirror (142).
Child laughs when others laugh to him (145). Twenty-ninth week, crying
with hunger; spreading out tongue (153). Satiety shown by thrusting
mouth-piece out (157).
WILL.
_Impulsive Movements._--Nose becomes mobile. Babes strike about them
vigorously (207).
_Reflex Movements._--Sighing appears (216).
_Instinctive Movements._--Thirtieth week, seizing more perfect (249).
Child places himself upright on lap, twenty-eighth week (275).
_Imitative Movements._--Imitation of movements of head; of pursing lips
(283).
_Expressive Movements._--Averting head as sign of refusal; thrusting
nipple out of mouth (313, 314). Astonishment shown by open mouth and
eyes (55).
INTELLECT.
Child did not recognize nurse after absence of four weeks (7); but
children distinguish faces before thirtieth week (6).
_Speech._--When hungry, child screams _mä_, _ä_, _[)u]ä_, _[)u]ä[)e]_;
when contented, says _örrö_; _lä_, _[)u]-[=a]-[)u]-i-i_; _t_ seldom,
_k_ only in yawning, _p_ very rarely (106).
EIGHTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Movements of Eyelids._--Brow not wrinkled invariably in looking
upward (24). Play of lid on hearing new noises; no lifting of eyebrows
(30, 31). Thirty-fourth week, eyes opened wide with longing (31).
_Direction of Look._--Thirty-first week, gaze turned in direction of
falling object. Thirty-third week, objects moved slowly downward are
followed with close gaze. Thirty-fourth week, objects let fall by him
are seldom looked after (49).
_Interpretation of what is seen._--Interest in bottles (62).
HEARING.--Quick closing of lids at new impressions of sound (86).
TASTE.--Pleasure in the "prepared food" (125).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Discomfort accompanied by square form
of the mouth (149). Craving for food shown by cooing sound (155).
Strongest feeling connected with appeasing of hunger (157). Restless
nights (162). Astonishment at new sounds and sights; with fright (86).
Thirty-first week, at clapping of fan. Thirty-fourth week, at imitation
of voices of animals (173).
WILL.
_Impulsive Movements._--Accompanying movement of hand (210).
Thirty-fourth week, stretchings of arms and legs accompanying
utterance (II, 108).
_Instinctive Movements._--Thirty-second week, seizing with both hands
more perfect; attention more active (248). In same week, legs stretched
up vertically, feet observed attentively, toes carried to mouth with the
hands (249). Pulling objects to him; grasping at bottle (250).
Thirty-fourth week, carrying things to mouth (251).
_Expressive Movements._--Laugh begins to be persistently loud (299).
Thirty-second week, child no longer sucks at lips when he is kissed, but
licks them (305). Eyelid half closed in disinclination (315). Interest
in objects shown by stretching out hands (321).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Variety of sounds made in the first eight months at random
(76). Concept of bottle before language (79). Sounds in screaming
different (106). Once the sound _h[=a]-upp_; frequently _a-[(ei]_,
_a-[(au]_, _[)a]-h[(au]-[)a]_, _hörrö_. Also _nt[)e]-ö_, _mi-ja mija_;
once _o[)u][=a][)e]i_ (107).
FEELING OF SELF.--Thirty-second week, child looks at his legs and feet
as if they were foreign to him (194).
NINTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Movements of Eyes._--Eyes converged easily (38).
_Direction of Look._--Thirty-sixth week, objects that fall are not
regularly looked after, but slowly moving objects, e. g., tobacco-smoke,
are followed (49).
_Interpretation of what is seen._--Boxes are gazed at (62). More
interest shown in things in general (63).
HEARING.--Winking and starting at slamming noise (86).
TASTE.--Yolk of egg with cane-sugar taken with expression of surprise.
Water and bread liked (126).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Striking hands together and laughing
for joy (145). Eyes shut when something disagreeable is to be endured;
head turned away also (148). Cooing, as in eighth month (155). Fear of
dog (167, 168).
WILL.
_Reflex Movements._--Number of respirations (in fever) forty and
forty-two in a minute (217).
_Instinctive Movements._--Teeth-grinding (262). Turning over when laid
face downward (266). Thirty-fifth week, child places himself on arm and
hand of nurse, and looks over her shoulder (275). Thirty-ninth week,
likes to sit with support (267). Thirty-ninth week, stands on feet a
moment without support (269).
_Expressive Movements._--Loud laughing at new, pleasing objects (299).
Turns head to light when asked where it is (321).
_Deliberate Movements._--Things brought to mouth are put quickly on
tongue (329).
INTELLECT.
Question understood before child can speak (I, 321).
_Speech._--Voice more modulated: screaming varies with different causes
(107). Delight shown by crowing sounds: _mä-mä_, _ämmä_, _mä_, are
expressions of pleasure; _[=a]-au-[=a]-[=a]_, _[=a]-[)o]_, _a-u-au_,
_na-na_; _apa_, _ga-au-[)a]_, _acha_ (108).
FEELING OF SELF.--Feet are felt of, and toes are carried to mouth (190).
Thirty-fifth week, foot grasped and carried to mouth. Thirty-sixth week,
other objects preferred to hands and feet. Thirty-ninth week, in the
bath his own skin is looked at and felt of, also his legs (194).
Thirty-fifth week, his image in mirror is grasped at gayly (198).
TENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Movements of Eyelids._--Brow invariably wrinkled at looking
upward (24).
_Movements of Eyes._--Convergence of lines of vision disturbed (38).
_Direction of Look._--Forty-third week, objects thrown down are looked
at (49).
_Interpretation of what is seen._--Visual impressions connected with
food best interpreted (63).
HEARING.--Head turned at noise (87).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Joy at lighting of lamp (145).
WILL.
_Reflex Movements._--Inhibition of reflex (229).
_Instinctive Movements._--Forty-third week, carrying objects to mouth
(252). Taking a hair from one hand into the other (253). Finger bitten
(261). Bread crunched and swallowed (262). Turning over when laid on
face (266). Fortieth and forty-first weeks, trying to sit without
support (267). Forty-second week, sitting up without support in bath and
carriage (267, 268). Forty-first week, first attempts at walking (275).
Forty-second week, moving feet forward and sidewise; inclination to
walk. Forty-third week, foot lifted high; moving forward (276).
_Imitative Movements._--Beckoning imitated (285).
_Expressive Movements._--Laughing becomes more conscious and intelligent
(299). Crying in sleep (308). Striking hands together in sleep (319).
Object pointed at is carried to mouth and chewed (322). Body
straightened in anger (324). This not intentional (326).
INTELLECT.
Forty-third week, knowledge of weight of bodies (I, 50). A child
missed his parents when they were absent, also a single nine-pin
of a set (7, 8).
_Speech._--Child can not repeat a syllable heard (77). In
monologue, syllables are more distinct, loud, and varied when
child is left to himself than when other persons entertain him:
_ndä[)e]_, _b[=a]ë-b[=a]ë_, _ba ell_, _arrö_. Frequent are _mä_,
_pappa_, _tatta_, _appapa_, _babba_, _tätä_, _pa_, _rrrr_, _rrra_.
Hints at imitation (108).
_Feeling of Self._--Forty-first week, striking his own body and foreign
objects (191). Forty-first to forty-fourth week, image in mirror laughed
at and grasped at (198).
ELEVENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Direction of Look._--Forty-seventh week, child throws down
objects and looks after them (49).
_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--Forty-fourth week, new objects no
longer carried to eyes, but gazed at and felt. Forty-seventh week,
accommodation perfect (55).
_Interpretation of what is seen._--Trying to fixate objects (63).
HEARING.--Screaming is quieted by a "Sh!" or by singing. Three hundred
and nineteenth day, difference in sound of spoon on plate when plate was
touched by hand (87).
TASTE.--Meat-broth with egg taken; scalded skimmed milk rejected; dry
biscuit liked (126).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Forty-fourth week, astonishment at
strange face (173).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--Forty-fifth week, grasping at flame of lamp;
forty-seventh, at objects behind a pane of glass; gain in moving muscles
of arm; shreds of paper handled (252). Biting father's hand (261).
Smacking lips (262). Sitting becomes habit for life (268). Standing
without support; stamping; but standing only for a moment (269). End of
forty-seventh week, feet well placed, but lifted too high and put down
too hard (276).
_Expressive Movements._--Grasping at his image with laugh; jubilant
noise at being allowed to walk (299).
_Deliberate Movements._--Striking spoon against object and exchanging
objects (326, 327). Child takes biscuit, carries it to mouth, bites off
a bit, chews and swallows it; but can not drink from glass (329).
INTELLECT.
Syllables correctly repeated; intentional sound-imitation on the three
hundred and twenty-ninth day. Forty-fifth week, response made for
diversion: whispering begins (109). Three kinds of _r_-sounds: new
syllables, _ta-h[(ee]_, _dann-tee_, _[(aa]-n[(ee]_, _ngä_, _tai_, _bä_,
_dall_, _at-tall_, _kamm_, _akkee_, _praï-jer_, _tra_, _[=a]-h[(ee]_.
Some earlier sounds frequent; consonants _b_, _p_, _t_, _d_, _m_, _n_,
_r_; _l_, _g_, _k_: vowel _a_ most used, _u_ and _o_ rare, _i_ very rare
(110). Accentuation not frequent (111). Association of idea with
utterance in one case (111, 122). Forty-fifth week, to word "papa,"
response _rrra_ (113).
_Feeling of Self._--Forty-fifth to fifty-fifth week, discovery of his
power to cause changes (192).
TWELFTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--Fifty-first week, pleasure
in seeing men sawing wood at distance of more than one hundred feet
(55).
HEARING.--Screaming quieted by "Sh!" (87). Three hundred and sixty-third
day, hears noise in next room and looks in direction of sound (88).
TASTE.--Fastidious about food (126).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Grunting as indication of pleasure
(144). Fifty-second week, astonishment at new sound (173).
WILL.
_Impulsive Movements._--Accompanying movement of hand in drinking (209).
_Instinctive Movements._--Child seized father's hand, carried it to
mouth and bit it (261). Forty-eighth week, standing without support a
moment; stamping; pushing a chair (276). Forty-ninth week, child can not
raise himself without help or stand more than an instant. Fiftieth week,
can not place himself on his feet, or walk without help (277).
_Imitative Movements._--Trying to strike with spoon on tumbler; puffing
repeated in sleep (287).
_Expressive Movements._--End of year, imitative laughing; crowing (299).
Laughing in sleep (300). Opening of mouth in kissing (305). Arms
stretched out in desire (322).
_Deliberate Movements._--Biscuit put into mouth with few failures;
drinking from glass, breathing into the water (329).
INTELLECT.
Ideas gained before language (78). Logical activity applied to
perceptions of sound (I, 88). Abstraction, whiteness of milk (18).
_Speech._--Imitation more successful, but seldom correct. Articulate
sounds made spontaneously: _haja_, _jajajajaja_, _aja_, _njaja_,
_naïn-hopp_, _ha-a_, _pa-a_, _d[=e]wär_, _han-na_, _mömma_, _allda_,
_alldaï_, _apa-u-a_, _gägä_, _ka_, _ladn_; _atta_ is varied, no more
_dada_; _w_ for the first time. Ability to discriminate between words
(112). Fifty-second week, child of himself obeys command, "Give the
hand!" Quieting effect of sounds "sh, ss, st, pst" (113).
_Feeling of Self._--Striking hard substances against teeth; gnashing
teeth (189). Tearing of paper continued (192).
THIRTEENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
HEARING.--Child strikes on keys of piano; pleased with singing
of canary-bird (89).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Laughing almost invariably
follows the laugh of others (145). Sleep, fourteen hours daily (162).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--Standing some moments without support (270).
Fifty-third week, creeping. Fifty-fourth week, walking, with support;
movements in creeping asymmetrical (277).
_Expressive Movements._--No idea of kissing (305). Shaking head in
denial (315). Begging sound along with extending of hands in desire
(323).
INTELLECT.
Trying door after shutting it (15, 16). Hears the vowel-sounds in word
(68).
_Speech._--Desire expressed by _ä-na_, _ä-nananana_ (112). Awkwardness
continues; attention more lively. Tries to repeat words said for him.
Three hundred and sixty-ninth day, _papa_ repeated correctly (113, 114).
Syllables most frequent, _nja_, _njan_, _dada_, _atta_, _mama_, _papaï_,
_attaï_, _na-na-na_, _hatta_, _meen[)e]-meen[)e]-meen[)e],_ _mömm_,
_mömma_, _ao-u_: _na-na_ denotes desire, _mama_, mother. Fifty-fourth
week, joy expressed by crowing, some very high tones; first distinct
_s_, three hundred and sixty-eighth day (114). Understanding of words
spoken (115). Confusion of associations; first conscious act of
obedience (116).
_Feeling of Self._--Rapping head with hand (191). Finding himself a
cause; shaking keys, etc. (192). Fifty-fifth week, strikes himself and
observes his hands; compares fingers of others with his own (195).
FOURTEENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--Fifty-eighth week, grasping
at lamp above him (55).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Fear of falling (169). Fifty-eighth
week, astonishment at lantern (173).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--Child could be allowed to bite paper to
pieces; he took the pieces out of his mouth (253). Fifty-seventh week,
he hitches along on hands and knees; can not walk without support.
Sixtieth week, raises himself by chair (277).
_Imitative Movements._--For imitating swinging of arms an interval of
time was required (287). Coughing imitated (288). Nodding not imitated
(315).
_Expressive Movements._--Confounding of movements (322). Affection shown
by laying hand on face and shoulders of others (324).
_Deliberate Movements._--Child takes off and puts on the cover of a can
seventy-nine times (328).
INTELLECT.
Wrong understanding of what is heard (89).
_Speech._--No doubt that _atta_ means "going"; _brrr_, practiced and
perfected; _dakkn_, _daggn_, _taggn_, _attagn_, _attatn_; no special
success in repeating vowels and syllables (117). Child tries and laughs
at his failures, if others laugh; parrot-like repetition of some
syllables (118). Gain in understanding of words heard; association of
definite object with name (119). More movements executed on hearing
words (120). Confounding of movements occurs, but grows rare; begging
attitude seen to be useful (121).
_Feeling of Self._--Four hundred and ninth day, child bit himself on the
arm (189). Pulling out and pushing in a drawer, turning leaves of book,
etc. (192). Fifty-seventh week, child looks at his image in hand-mirror,
puts hand behind glass, etc. (198). Fifty-eighth week, his photograph
treated in like manner; he turns away from his image in mirror; sixtieth
week, recognizes his mother's image in mirror as image (199).
FIFTEENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Direction of Look._--Sixty-third to sixty-fifth week, objects
thrown down and looked after (50).
_Interpretation of what is seen._--Grasps at candle, puts hand into
flame, but once only (63).
HEARING.--Laughing at new noises, as gurgling or thunder (89).
SMELL.--Coffee and cologne make no impression till end of month (134).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--Sixty-second week, child stands a few seconds
when support is withdrawn. Sixty-third week, walks, holding on to a
support (277). Sixty-fourth week, can walk without support, if he thinks
he is supported; sixty-fifth week, walks holding by one finger of
another's hand; raises himself to knees, stands up if he can hold to
something (278).
_Imitative Movements._--Coughing. Learns to blow out candle (288).
Opening and shutting of hand (289).
_Expressive Movements._--Laughing at new sounds (299). The words "Give a
kiss" produce a drawing near of head and protruding of lips (306).
Wrinkling of brow in attempts at imitation (310). Deprecating movement
of arm (314). Sixty-fourth week, nodding sometimes accompanies the word
"no"; four hundred and forty-fifth day, an accompanying movement (316).
First shrugging of shoulders (317). Begging gesture made by child when
he wants something (318). Same made in asking for amusement (319). Wish
expressed by handing a ring, looking at glasses to be struck, and saying
_hay-[)u]h_ (323).
INTELLECT.
Hunting for scraps of paper, etc. (17). After burning his finger in
flame of candle, the child never put it near the flame again, but would,
in fun, put it in the direction of the candle. He allowed mouth and chin
to be wiped without crying (20).
_Speech._--New sound _wa_; astonishment expressed by
_h[=a]-[=a]-[)e][=a]-[)e]_, joy by crowing in high and
prolonged tones, strong desire by _häö_, _hä-[)e]_, pain,
impatience, by screaming in vowels passing over into one
another (121). The _atta_ still used when a light is dimmed
(122). Advance in repeating syllables. Child is vexed
when he can not repeat a word. One new word, _heiss_ (hot)
(123). The _s_ is distinct; _th_ (Eng.) appears; _w_;
smacking in sixty-fifth week; tongue the favorite plaything
(124). Understands words "moon," "clock," "eye," "nose,"
"cough," "blow," "kick," "light"; affirmative nod at "ja"
in sixty-fourth week; negative shaking at "no"; holding
out hand at words "Give the hand" or "hand"; more time
required when child is not well (125).
_Feeling of Self._--Child bit his finger so that he cried out with pain
(191). Sixty-second week, playing with his fingers as foreign objects;
pressing one hand down with the other (195). Sixty-first week, trying to
feel of his own image in the mirror (199).
SIXTEENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--Sixty-eighth week, reaching
too short, too far to left or right, too high or too low (56).
_Interpretation of what is seen._--Grasping at jets of water (63).
HEARING.--Child holds watch to his ear and listens to the ticking (89).
SMELL.--Smell and taste not separated; a flower is taken into mouth
(135).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Fear of high tones (169).
WILL.
_Impulsive Movements._--Sleeping child raised hand to eye (202).
Accompanying movement of fingers in drinking (210).
_Reflex Movements._--Respirations, in sleep, twenty-two to twenty-five a
minute (217).
_Instinctive Movements._--Sixty-sixth week, four hundred and
fifty-seventh day, child runs alone (278). Next day, stops and stamps.
Four hundred and sixty-first day, can walk backward, if led, and can
turn round alone. At the end of the week can look at objects while
walking. Sixty-seventh week, a fall occurs rarely. Sixty-eighth week,
walking becoming mechanical (279).
_Imitative Movements._--A ring put on his head in imitation (289).
Waiting attitude (318).
_Expressive Movements._--Lips protruded almost like a snout (302).
Shaking head meant "No" and "I do not know" (316). Child shrugs
shoulders when unable to answer (317). Waiting attitude becomes a sign
(318).
_Deliberate Movements._--Opening and shutting cupboards, bringing
objects, etc. Holding ear-ring to ear (327).
INTELLECT.
Child holds an ear-ring to his ear with understanding (I, 327). A
begging movement at seeing box from which cake had come (11). Small
understanding shown in grasping at ring (13).
_Speech._--Progress in repeating words spoken for him and in
understanding words heard. Desire expressed by _hä!_ _hä-ö!_ _hä-[)e]!_
_h[)e]-[)e]!_ More seldom _hi_, _gö-gö_, _gö_, _f-pa_, _[(au]_; more
frequently, _ta_, _dokkn_, _tá-ha_, _a-bwa-bwa_, _b[)u][=a]-b[)u][=a]_;
once _dagon_. Child "reads" the newspaper (126). Pain expressed by
screaming; joy by crowing with vowel _i_; _a_ repeated on command; _mö_
and _ma_; imitation tried (127). Touches eye, ear, etc., when these are
named--not with certainty (128). Understands "bring," "give," etc.
(129).
_Feeling of Self._--Putting thumbs against the head and pushing,
experimenting (191). Sixty-sixth week, child strikes at his image in
mirror. Sixty-seventh week, makes grimaces before mirror; turns round to
see his father, whose image appeared in mirror (199). Sixty-ninth week,
signs of vanity (200).
SEVENTEENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Interpretation of what is seen._--Child grasps at tobacco-smoke
(64).
HEARING.--Holding watch to ear (89).
TASTE.--Surprise at new tastes (119).
SMELL.--Inability to separate smell and taste (135).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Prolonged sleep; ten hours at a time
(162).
WILL.
_Reflex Movements._--Right hand moved when right nostril is touched
(221).
_Instinctive Movements._--Clasping of finger in sleep (243). Seventieth
week, child raises himself from floor alone; seventy-first week, steps
over threshold (279).
_Expressive Movements._--Shaking head means "I do not wish" (316).
Throwing himself on floor and screaming with rage (323).
INTELLECT.
Child brings traveling-bag to stand upon in order to reach (12). Play of
"hide and seek" (17).
_Speech._--Screaming, whimpering, etc. (101). Increase of
discrimination: _bibi_, _nä-nä-nä_, _t-tó_, _höt-tó_; voluntary
imitation (129). Associations of words heard with objects and movements
(130).
_Feeling of Self._--Making grimaces before mirror (200).
EIGHTEENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Direction of Look._--Seventy-eighth week, throwing away of
playthings is rare (50).
_Interpretation of what is seen._--Anxiety on seeing man dressed in
black (64).
SMELL.--Objects no longer carried to mouth (135).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Laughing at thunder (170).
WILL.
_Impulsive Movements._--Holding little finger apart from others (209).
_Instinctive Movements._--Walks over threshold by holding on (275).
Seventy-seventh week, runs around table; seventy-eighth, walks over
threshold without holding on (280).
_Imitative Movements._--Blowing horn (290).
_Expressive Movements._--Trying to hit with foot, striking, etc. (315).
Waiting attitude (318).
_Deliberate Movements._--Full spoon carried to mouth with skill (329).
INTELLECT.
Memory of towel (8). Watering flowers with empty pot (16). Plays (17).
Giving leaves to stag, etc. (18). Stick of wood put in stove (20).
_Speech._--Understanding of words increases (130). Repeating of
syllables is rare; _atta_ becomes _tto_, _t-tu_, _ftu_; feeling
recognized by tone of voice (131).
_Feeling of Self._--Recognition of himself as cause of changes (192).
NINETEENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
HEARING.--Hearing watch on his head (89).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Fear of strangers ceases (150). Laugh
at thunder and lightning (170).
WILL.
_Imitative Movements._--Combing and brushing hair, washing hands, etc.
(290).
_Expressive Movements._--Fastidious about kissing (306). Pride in
baby-carriage (324).
_Deliberative Movements._--Spoon taken in left hand (329).
INTELLECT.
Father recognized after absence (8). Bringing cloth for wrap and begging
for door to be opened (12). Grunting in order to be taken away (13).
Induction, watch and clock (18). Crying seen to be useless (20).
_Speech._--Imitation of whistle (91). Spontaneous sound imitations more
frequent (131). Gazing after objects thrown and whispering, reading
newspaper (132). Response to _pa_ correctly given (133). Objects
correctly pointed out; memory of tricks (134).
_Feeling of Self._--Attempt to give his foot (190).
TWENTIETH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--First color-tests. Eighty-fifth
week, no discrimination (7). Eighty-sixth and eighty-seventh weeks, no
results (8).
_Movements of the Eyes._--Readiness of convergence, pupils very wide
open (38).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Prolonged sleep habitual, etc. (163).
WILL.
_Reflex Movements._--Respirations twenty-two and more (217).
_Instinctive Movements._--Eighty-fifth week, thresholds stepped over
quickly; inclines forward in running (280).
_Imitative Movements._--Use of comb and brush, putting on collar (290).
Scraping feet, putting pencil to mouth, marking on paper (291).
_Expressive Movements._--Proximity essential in kissing; bends head when
"kiss" is said (306). Antipathy expressed by turning head at approach of
women in black (315).
_Deliberate Movements._--Carries spoon with food to mouth cleverly
(329).
INTELLECT.
As in nineteenth month, grunting (12,13).
_Speech._--_Rodi_, _otto_, _rojo_ (93). Understanding of the word
"other" (128, 129). Five hundred and eighty-fourth day, important
advance in repeating words said (135). Imagination; can not repeat
three syllables; laughs when others laugh (136). Single words more
promptly understood (137). One new concept, expressed by _d[=a]_ and
_nd[=a]_, or _t[=a]_ and _nt[=a]_. Eighty-seventh week, _attah_ said
on railway-train; _papa_ and _bät_ or _bit_ (for "bitte") rightly
used; much outcry (138). Crowing tones not so high; loud readings
continued (139).
TWENTY-FIRST MONTH.
SENSES.
HEARING.--Dancing not rhythmical (89, 90).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Fear of the sea (170).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--Eighty-ninth week, running is awkward, but
falling rare (280).
_Imitative Movements._--Imitation without understanding (290, 291).
_Expressive Movements._--Ninetieth week, pointing as expression of wish
(321).
INTELLECT.
Recognition of father (8). Association of biscuit with coat and wardrobe
(11).
_Speech._--Imitations more frequent. Eighty-ninth week, babbling
different, more _consonants_; _ptö-ptö_, _pt-pt_, and _verlapp_, also
_dla-dla_; willfulness shown in articulate sounds and shaking head
(139). Unlike syllables not repeated, _dang-gee_ and _dank-kee_;
tendency to doubling syllables, _tete_, _bibi_; babbling yields great
pleasure; _bibi_ for "bitte" rightly used. New word _mimi_, when hungry
or thirsty (140). Understands use and signification of sound, _neinein_;
and answers of his own accord _jaja_ to question in ninety-first week.
Strength of memory for sounds; points correctly to nose, mouth, etc.
(141). Astonishing progress in understanding what is said. Few
expressions of his own with recognizable meaning, _j[=a][)e]_ excepted.
_Att_, _att_, _att_, unintelligible. Tried to imitate sound of steam of
locomotive (142).
_Feeling of Self._--Placing shells and buttons in rows (193). Puts lace
about him; vanity; laughs and points at his own image in mirror (200).
The same on six hundred and twentieth day (201).
TWENTY-SECOND MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--New impressions enchain attention; the mysterious more
attractive (64).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Progress in understanding; orders executed with surprising
accuracy (142). Strength of word-memory; facility of articulation;
spontaneous utterance of _pss_, _ps_, _ptsch_, _pth_; _pa-ptl-dä-pt_;
greeting with _h[=a][=a]-ö_, _ada_ and _ana_. Singing, _rollo_, _mama_,
_mämä_, etc. More certainty in reproducing sounds: "pst, anna, otto,
lina," etc. Three-syllabled words correctly repeated, _a-ma-ma_,
_a-pa-pa_ (143). Words too hard are given back with _tap[)e]ta_,
_p[)e]ta_, _pta_, _ptö-ptö_ or _rateratetat_. _Ja ja_ and _nein nein_,
with _da_ and _bibi_ and _mimi_, used properly in request. Cry of pain
a strong contrast with the crowing for joy (144).
TWENTY-THIRD MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--Ninety-sixth week, does not
appreciate distance (56).
WILL.
_Imitative Movements._--Imitative impulse seems like ambition;
ceremonious movements imitated (291).
_Expressive Movements._--Kiss given as a mark of favor (306). Striking
hands together in applause and desire for repetition (319). Tears of
sorrow instead of anger; tries to move chair to table, etc. (324).
INTELLECT.
Joy at seeing playthings after absence of eleven and a half weeks (8).
Concept of "cup" not sharply defined (16). Use of adjective for the
first spoken judgment (96).
_Speech._--_Heiss_ (hot) means "The drink is too hot," and "the stove is
hot" (144). _Watja_ and _mimi_; _mimmi_, _mömö_, _m[=a]m[=a]_, mean
food; _atta_, disappearance; spontaneous articulation, _[(oi]_, _[(eu]_,
_ana_, _ida_, _didl_, _dadl_, _dldo-dlda_; in singing-tone, _opojö_,
_apojopojum aui_, _heissa_; calls grandparents _e-papa_ and _e-mama_;
knows who is meant when these are spoken of. Understands words more
easily, as "drink, eat, shut, open" (145). Word-memory becoming firm;
imagination. Great progress in reproducing syllables and words (146).
Child's name, "Axel," is called _Aje_, _Eja_. "Bett, Karre, Kuk,"
repeated correctly. Echolalia reappears (147). Words are best pronounced
by child when he is not called upon to do it (148).
_Feeling of Self._--Child holds biscuit to his toes (190).
TWENTY-FOURTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Interpretation of what is seen._--Moving animals closely
observed (64).
HEARING.--Trying to sing, and beating time (90).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Astonishment more seldom apparent
(174).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--Child turns, of himself, dancing in time to
music; beats time (280).
_Imitative Movements._--Ceremonious movements imitated, salutation,
uncovering head (291).
_Expressive Movements._--Roguish laughing first observed (299).
INTELLECT.
Understanding of actions and of use of utensils more developed than
ability to interpret representations of them (I, 64, 65).
_Speech._--Voluntary sound-imitations gain in frequency and accuracy;
genuine echolalia (148). Imperfect imitations (149). Multiplicity of
meanings in the same utterance (150). Distinguishing men from women.
Combination of two words into a sentence, seven hundred and seventh day;
words confounded; also gestures and movements; but not in the expression
of joy and grief (151, 152).
TWENTY-FIFTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--Color-tests, red and green; seven
hundred and fifty-eighth day, eleven times right, six wrong; seven
hundred and fifty-ninth, seven right, five wrong; seven hundred and
sixtieth, nine right, five wrong (8). Does not yet _know_ what blue and
green signify. Moves and handles himself well in twilight (21).
_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--One hundred and eighth week, power
of accommodation good; small photographic likenesses recognized (56).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Progress is extraordinary. Does not pronounce a perfect "u."
All sound-imitations more manifold, etc.; begins saying "_so_" when any
object is brought to appointed place (152). Has become more teachable,
repeats three words imperfectly. Evidence of progress of memory,
understanding and articulation in answers given. No word invented by
himself; calls his nurse _wolá_, probably from the often-heard "ja
wohl." Correct use of single words picked up increases surprisingly
(153). Misunderstandings rational; words better understood; reasoning
developed (154). Inductive reasoning. Progress in forming sentences.
Sentence of five words. Pronouns signify objects or qualities (155,
156).
TWENTY-SIXTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--Seven hundred and sixty-third day,
15 right, 1 wrong. Three colors pointed out; disinclination to continue
(8). Seven hundred and sixty-fifth day, green confounded with yellow.
One hundred and tenth week, right 73, wrong 22. Blue added. End of one
hundred and tenth week to one hundred and twelfth week, right 124, wrong
36. Yellow more surely recognized than other colors. Violet added (9).
Colors taken separately. One hundred and twelfth week, right 44, wrong
11. Tests in both ways; attention not continuous. Gray is added. One
hundred and twelfth and one hundred and thirteenth weeks, right 90,
wrong 27 (10, 11). Child does not know what "green" means in one hundred
and twelfth week (21).
_Seeing Near and Distant Objects._--One hundred and thirteenth week,
articles of furniture recognized in pictures at distance of three inches
or three feet (56).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--First attempts at climbing (331).
INTELLECT.
Child points out objects in pictures, and repeats names given to them;
list of results (156). Points out of his own accord, with certainty, in
the picture-book. Appropriates many words not taught him, _tola_ for
"Kohlen," _dals_ for "Salz." Others correctly said and used (157). Some
of his mutilated words not recognizable; "sch" sometimes left out,
sometimes given as _z_ or _ss_. Independent thoughts expressed by words
more frequently; "Good-night" said to the Christmas-tree (158). Verb
used (in the infinitive) showing growth of intellect; learning of tricks
decreases (159). No notion of number; does not understand "Thank you,"
but thanks himself. More names of animals, learned from adults; no
onomatopoeia (160).
TWENTY-SEVENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--Color-tests, from one hundred and
fourteenth to one hundred and sixteenth week, four trials, colors mixed;
result, 59 right, 22 wrong (11). Blue especially confounded with violet,
also with green. Four trials in one hundred and fourteenth and one
hundred and fifteenth weeks; result, 58 right, 32 wrong (12). Two trials
in one hundred and fifteenth week; result, 25 right, 16 wrong (13).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Uncomfortable feeling through pity;
child weeps if human forms cut out of paper are in danger of mutilation
(150, 151).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--Pleasure in climbing begins (280).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Activity of thought. Observation and comparison. Gratitude
does not appear (161). Wishes expressed by verbs in the infinitive or by
substantives. Adverbs; indefinite pronouns. Seven hundred and
ninety-sixth day, makes the word _Messen_ (162). _Wolà_ and _atta_ have
almost disappeared. Independent applications of words (163). Monologues
less frequent. Begs apple to give to a puppet. Echolalia prominent.
Tones and noises imitated (164). Laughing when others laugh; fragments
of a dialogue repeated. Feeble memory for answers and numbers. Eight
hundred and tenth day, gave his own name for first time in answer to a
question (165). No question yet asked by the child. The article is not
used. Pronunciation slowly becoming correct (166).
TWENTY-EIGHTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--One hundred and twenty-first week,
greater uncertainty (13).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Fear of pigs (168).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--Going on all-fours; jumping, climbing gives
pleasure (280).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Rapid increase of activity in forming ideas, and greater
certainty in use of words. Ambition; observation and combination;
beginning of self-control; use of his own name and of names of parents;
independent thinking (167). Increase in number of words correctly
pronounced; attempt to use prepositions; first intelligent use of the
article (168). Questioning active; first spontaneous question on eight
hundred and forty-fifth day. "Where?" is his only interrogative word.
Reproduction of foreign expressions (169). Imagination lively; paper
cups used like real ones. Articulation better, but still deficient. Many
parts of the body named correctly (170). Child makes remarks for a
quarter of an hour at a time concerning objects about him, sings,
screams in sleep (171).
TWENTY-NINTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--One hundred and twenty-fourth week,
right, 58; wrong, 49. Eight hundred and sixty-eighth day, child takes
colors of his own accord and names them; confounding rose, gray, and
pale-green, brown and gray, blue and violet. One hundred and
twenty-fourth and one hundred and twenty-fifth weeks, right, 80; wrong,
34 (14). Red and yellow generally named rightly; blue and green not. Red
and yellow are removed; child is less interested. One hundred and
twenty-fifth and one hundred and twenty-sixth weeks, right, 80; wrong,
63. Orange confounded with yellow, blue with violet, green with gray,
black with brown. Failure of attempt to induce child to put like colors
together, or to select colors by their names (15).
_Direction of Look._--One hundred and twenty-fourth week, gaze follows
ball thrown (50).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Fear of dogs (168).
INTELLECT.
Personal pronoun used in place of his own name. Inflection of verbs
appears, but the infinitive is generally used for imperative; regular
and irregular verbs begin to be distinguished (171). Desire expressed by
infinitive. Numbering active; numerals confounded. Eight hundred and
seventy-eighth day, nine-pins counted "one, one, one," etc. (172).
Questioning increases; "too much" is confounded with "too little." Yet
memory gains (173). Sounds of animals well remembered. Slow progress in
articulation (174).
_Feeling of Self._--Personal pronoun in place of his own name; "me" but
not yet "I" (202).
THIRTIETH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--One hundred and twenty-sixth, one
hundred and twenty-seventh, and one hundred and twenty-eighth weeks,
four trials with single color at a time; 75 right, 34 wrong. Eight
hundred and ninety-eighth day, every color rightly named; some guessing
on blue and green (16).
_Interpretation of what is seen._--Persistent desire daily to "write"
locomotives (66).
HEARING.--While eating, by chance puts hand to ear while kettle of
boiling water stood before him; notices diminution in force of sound
(88).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--Mounting a staircase without help; ten days
later with hands free (280, 281).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Independent activity of thought. When language fails, he
considers well (174). Deliberation without words; concepts formed.
Intellectual advance shown in first intentional use of language (175).
Only interrogative word is still "Where?" "I" does not appear, but "me"
is used. Sentences independently applied (176). More frequent use of the
plural in nouns; of the article; of the strong inflection; auxiliaries
omitted or misemployed. Twofold way of learning correct pronunciation
(177). Memory for words denoting objects good; right and left confounded
(178).
THIRTY-FIRST MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--Nine hundred and thirty-fourth day,
child says he can not tell green and blue. Green mostly called gray;
blue, violet (17).
FEELING.--_Sensibility to Temperature._--Child laughs joyously in cold
bath (115).
WILL.
Weakness of will shown by ceasing to eat when told that he has had
enough (344).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Onomatopoeia: imitation of locomotive-whistle (91). Two new
questions. Indefinite article more frequent. Individual formations of
words, as comparative of "high"; "key-watch." Confounding of "to-day"
and "yesterday" (178). Forming of sentences imperfect. Reporting of
faults. Calls things "stupid" when he is vexed by them. Changes
occupation frequently. Imitation less frequent. Singing in sleep. "Sch"
not yet pronounced (179).
_Feeling of Self._--Causing change in objects, pouring water into and
out of vessels (193). Laughing at image of self in mirror (201).
THIRTY-SECOND MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--One hundred and thirty-eighth and a
few previous weeks, six trials, child taking colors and naming them;
right 119, wrong, 38 (16, 17). Green and blue called "nothing at all."
Unknown colors named green; leaves of roses called "nothing," as are
whitish colors. One hundred and thirty-eighth and one hundred and
thirty-ninth weeks, three trials; right, 93, wrong, 39 (17, 18). Green
begins to be rightly named, blue less often (18).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--"I" begins to displace the name of child. Sentence correctly
applied. Clauses formed. Particle separated in compound verbs. Longer
names and sentences distinctly spoken, but the influence of dialect
appears (180). Memory improved, but fastidious; good for what is
interesting and intelligible to child (181).
_Feeling of Self._--Fourfold designation of self (202).
THIRTY-THIRD MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--One hundred and thirty-ninth, one
hundred and forty-first, and one hundred and forty-sixth weeks, took
colors of his own accord and named them; result of three trials, 66
right, 19 wrong (18).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Fear of even smallest dog (168).
INTELLECT.
Understanding that violations of well-known precepts have unpleasant
consequences (21).
_Speech._--Strength of memory shown in characteristic remarks Narrative
of feeding fowls (181). Interest in animals and other moving objects;
lack of clearness in concepts of animal and machine; meaning of word
"father" includes also "uncle"; selfhood more sharply manifested.
Confounds "too much" with "too little," etc. (182).
_Feeling of Self._--"I" especially used in "I want that," etc. (202).
THIRTY-FOURTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--"Green" rightly applied to leaves
and grass (18). Order in which colors are rightly named up to this time;
right, one thousand and forty-four; wrong, four hundred and forty-two:
right, 70.3 per cent; wrong, 29.7. Yellow and red much sooner named
rightly than green and blue (19).
WILL.
_Instinctive Movements._--First gymnastic exercises (281).
_Expressive Movements._--Kissing an expression of thankfulness (306).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Repeating, for fun, expressions heard. Calls, without
occasion, the name of the nurse; calls others by her name, sometimes
correcting himself. Seldom speaks of himself in third person; gradually
uses "Du" in address; uses "What?" in a new way. One thousand and
twenty-eighth day, "Why?" first used; instinct of causality expressed in
language (183). Questioning repeated to weariness. Articulation
perfected, with some exceptions (184).
_Feeling of Self._--Repeats the "I" heard, meaning by it "you" (202).
THIRTY-FIFTH MONTH.
WILL.
_Reflex Movements._--Responsive movement in sleeping child (221).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Fondness for singing increases; pleasure in compass and power
of his voice (185).
THIRTY-SIXTH MONTH.
SENSES.
HEARING.--Musical notes C, D, E, could not be rightly named by child, in
spite of teaching (90).
INTELLECT.
"When?" not used until close of the third year (184). Great pleasure in
singing, but imitation here not very successful, though surprisingly so
in regard to speech. Grammatical errors more rare. Long sentences
correctly but slowly formed. Ambition manifested in doing things without
help (185).
Invention in language rare. Participles well used (186).
THIRTY-SEVENTH MONTH.
SENSES.
SIGHT.--_Discrimination of Colors._--Colors named correctly except very
dark or pale ones (21).
ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS.--Night's sleep from eleven to twelve
hours; day-naps no longer required (163). Fear (in sleep) of pigs (168).
INTELLECT.
_Speech._--Child's manner of speaking approximates more and more rapidly
to that of the family (186).
FORTIETH MONTH.
INTELLECT.
_Feeling of Self._--Fortieth month, pleased with his shadow (201).
THE MIND OF THE CHILD.
THIRD PART.
_DEVELOPMENT OF THE INTELLECT._
The development of the intellect depends in so great measure upon the
modification of innate endowments through natural environment and
education, even before systematic instruction begins, and the methods of
education are so manifold, that it is at present impossible to make a
complete exposition of a normal intellectual development. Such an
exposition would necessarily comprise in the main two stages:
1. The _combination_ of sensuous _impressions_ into _perceptions_
(Wahrnehmungen); which consists essentially in this--that the sensation,
impressing itself directly upon our experience, is by the intellect, now
beginning to act, co-ordinated in space and time.
2. The _combination_ of _perceptions_ into _ideas_; in particular into
_sense-intuitions_ and _concepts_. A sense-intuition (Anschauung) is a
perception together with its cause, the object of the sensation; a
concept (Begriff) results from the union of the previously separated
perceptions, which are then called separate marks or qualities.
The investigation of each of these stages in the child is in itself a
great labor, which an individual may indeed begin upon, but can not
easily carry through uniformly in all directions.
I have indeed tried to collect recorded facts, but have found only
very little trustworthy material, and accordingly I confine myself
essentially to my own observations on my child. These are not merely
perfectly trustworthy, even to the minutest details (I have left out
everything of a doubtful character), but they are the most
circumstantial ever published in regard to the intellectual
development of a child. But I have been acquainted with a sufficient
number of other children to be certain that the child observed by me
did not _essentially_ differ from other healthy and intelligent boys
in regard to the principal points, although the time at which
development takes place, and the rapidity of it, differ a good deal in
different individuals. Girls often appear to learn to speak earlier
than boys; but further on they seem to possess a somewhat inferior
capacity of development of the logical functions, or to accomplish
with less ease abstractions of a higher order; whereas in boys the
emotional functions, however lasting their reactions, are not so
delicately graduated as in girls.
Without regard to such differences, of which I am fully aware, the
following chapters treat exclusively of the development of purely
intellectual cerebral activity in both sexes during the first years.
I acknowledge, however, that I have found the investigation of the
influence of the affectional movements, or emotions, upon the
development of the intellect in the child during the first years
so difficult, that I do not for the present enter into details
concerning it.
The observations relate, first, to the non-dependence of the child's
intellect upon language; next, to the acquirement of speech; lastly,
to the development of the feeling of self, the "I"-feeling.
CHAPTER XVI.
DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHILD'S INTELLECT INDEPENDENTLY OF LANGUAGE.
A wide-spread prejudice declares, "Without language, no understanding"!
Subtile distinctions between understanding and reason have limited the
statement to the latter term. But even in the restricted form, "Without
verbal language, no reason," it is at least unproved.
_Is there any thinking without words?_ The question takes this shape.
Now, for the thinker, who has long since forgotten the time when he
himself learned to speak, it is difficult, or even impossible, to give a
decided answer. For the thinking person can not admit that he has been
thinking without words; not even when he has caught himself arriving at
a logical result without a continuity in his unexpressed thought. A
break occurred in the train. There was, however, a train of thought.
Breaks alone yield no thought; they arise only after words have been
associated with thoughts, and so they can by no means serve as evidence
of a thinking without words, although the ecstasy of the artist, the
profundity of the meta-physician, may attain the last degree of
unconsciousness, and a dash may interrupt the thought-text.
But the child not yet acquainted with verbal language, who has not been
prematurely artificialized by training and by suppression of his own
attempts to express his states of mind, who learns _of himself_ to
_think_, just as he learns of himself to see and hear--such a child
shows plainly to the attentive observer that long before knowledge of
the word as a means of understanding among men, and long before the
first successful attempt to express himself in articulate words--nay,
long before learning the pronunciation of even a single word, he
combines ideas in a logical manner--i. e., he _thinks_. Thinking is,
it is true, "internal speech," but there is a speech without words.
Facts in proof of this have already been given in connection with
other points (Vol. I, pp. 88, 327, 328); others are given further on.
It will not be superfluous, however, to put together several
observations relating to the development of the childish intellect
without regard to the acquirement of speech; and to present them
separately, as a sort of introduction to the investigation of the
process of learning to speak.
Memory; a causative combination of the earliest recollections, or
memory-images; purposive, deliberate movements for the lessening of
individual strain--all these come to the child in greater or less
measure independently of verbal language. The, as it were, embryonic
logic of the child does not need words. A brief explanation of the
operation of these three factors will show this. Memory takes the
first place in point of time.
Without memory no intellect is possible. The only material at the
disposal of the intellect is received from the senses. It has been
provided solely out of sensations. Now a sensation in itself alone, as
a simple fundamental experience affecting primarily the one who has
the sensation, can not be the object of any intellectual operation
whatever. In order to make such activity possible there must be
several sensations: two of different kinds, of unequal strength; or
two of different kinds, of the same strength; or two of the same kind
unequally strong; in any case, two unlike sensations (cf. my treatise
"Elemente der reinen Empfindungslehre," Jena, 1876), if the lowest
activity of the intellect, _comparison_, is to operate. But because
the sensations that are to be compared can not all exist together,
recollection of the earlier ones is necessary (for the comparison);
that is, individual or personal memory.
This name I give to the memory formed by means of individual impressions
(occurrences, experiences) in contrast with the _phyletic_ memory, or
instinct, the memory of the race, which results from the inheritance of
the traces of individual experiences of ancestors; of this I do not here
speak.
All sensations leave traces behind in the brain; weak ones leave such as
are easy to be obliterated by others; strong ones, traces more enduring.
At the beginning of life it seems to be the department of taste (sweet)
and of smell (smell of milk) in which memory is first operative (Vol. I,
p. 124). Then comes the sense of touch (in nursing). Next in order the
sense of sight chiefly asserts itself as an early promoter of memory.
Hearing does not come till later.
If the infant, in the period from three to six months of age, is brought
into a room he has not before seen, his expression changes; he is
astonished. The new sensations of light, the different apportionment of
light and dark, arouse his attention; and when he comes back to his
former surroundings he is not astonished. These have lost the _stimulus
of novelty_--i. e., a certain _reminiscence_ of them has remained with
the child, they have _impressed_ themselves upon him.
Long before the thirtieth week, healthy children distinguish human faces
definitely from one another; first, the faces of the mother and the
nurse, then the face of the father, seen less often; and all three of
these from every strange face. Probably faces are the first thing
frequently perceived clearly by the eye. It has been found surprising
that infants so much earlier recognize human faces and forms, and follow
them with the gaze, than they do other objects. But human forms and
faces, being large, moving objects, awaken interest more than other
objects do; and on account of the manner of their movements, and because
they are the source from which the voice issues, are essentially
different from other objects in the field of vision. "In these movements
they are also characterized as a coherent whole, and the face, as a
whitish-reddish patch with the two sparkling eyes, is always a part of
this image that will be easy to recognize, even for one who has seen it
but a few times" (Helmholtz).
Hence the memory for faces is established earlier than that for other
visual impressions, and with this the ability to recognize members of
the family. A little girl, who does not speak at all, looks at pictures
with considerable interest in the seventh month, "and points meantime
with her little forefinger to the heads of the human figures" (Frau von
Strümpell).
My child in the second month could already localize the face and voice
of his mother, but the so-called knowing ("Erkennen") is a recognition
(Wiedererkennen) which presupposes a very firm _association of the
memory-images_. This fundamental function attached to the memory can
have but a slow development, because it demands an accumulation of
memory-images and precision in them.
In the second three months it is so far developed, at least, that
strange faces are at once known as strange, and are distinguished from
those of parents and nurse; for they excite astonishment or fear
(crying) while the faces of the latter do not. But the latter, if
absent, are not yet, at this period, missed by most children. Hence it
is worthy of note that a girl in her twelfth month recognized her
nurse after six days' absence, immediately, "with sobs of joy," as the
mother reports (Frau von Strümpell); another recognized her father,
after a separation of four days, even in the tenth month (Lindner).
In the seventh month my child did _not_ recognize his nurse, to whom
he had for months been accustomed, after an absence of four weeks.
Another child, however, at four months noticed at evening the absence
of his nurse, who had been gone only a day, and cried lustily upon the
discovery, looking all about the room, and crying again every time
after searching in vain (Wyma, 1881). At ten months the same child
used to be troubled by the absence of his parents, though he bore
himself with indifference toward them when he saw them again. At this
period a single nine-pin out of the whole set could not be taken away
without his noticing it, and at the age of a year and a half this
child knew at once whether one of his ten animals was missing or not.
In the nineteenth and twenty-first months my boy recognized his father
immediately from a distance, after a separation of several days, and
once after two weeks' absence; and in his twenty-third month his joy
at seeing again his playthings after an absence of eleven and a half
weeks (with his parents) was very lively, great as was the child's
forgetfulness in other respects at this period. A favorite toy could
often be taken from him without its being noticed or once asked for.
But when the child--in his eighteenth month--after having been
accustomed to bring to his mother two towels which he would afterward
carry back to their place, on one occasion had only one towel given
back to him, he came with inquiring look and tone to get the second.
This observation, which is confirmed by some similar ones, proves that
at a year and a half the memory for visual and motor ideas that belong
together was already well developed without the knowledge of the
corresponding words. But artificial associations of this sort need
continual renewing, otherwise they are soon forgotten; the remembrance
of them is speedily lost even in the years of childhood.
It is noteworthy, in connection with this, that what has been lately
acquired, e. g., verses learned by heart, can be recited more fluently
during sleep than in the waking condition. At the age of three years
and five months a girl recited a stanza of five lines on the occasion
of a birthday festival, not without some stumbling, but one night soon
after the birthday she repeated the whole of the rhymes aloud in her
sleep without stumbling at all (Frau von Strümpell).
It is customary, generally, to assume that the memory of adults does
not extend further back than to the fourth year of life. Satisfactory
observations on this point are not known to exist. But it is certainly
of the first consequence, in regard to the development of the faculty
of memory, whether the later experiences of the child have any
characteristic in common with the earlier experiences. For many of
these experiences no such agreement exists; nothing later on reminds
us of the once existing inability to balance the head, or of the
former inability to turn around, to sit, to stand, to walk, of the
inborn difficulty of hearing, inability to accommodate the eye, and to
distinguish our own body from foreign objects; hence, no man, and no
child, remembers these states. But this is not true of what is
acquired later. My child when less than three years old remembered
very well--and would almost make merry over himself at it--the time
when he could not yet talk, but articulated incorrectly and went
imperfectly through the first, often-repeated performances taught by
his nurse, "How tall is the child?" and "Where is the rogue?" If I
asked him, after he had said "Frühstücken" correctly, how he used to
say it, he would consider, and would require merely a suggestion of
accessory circumstances, in order to give the correct answer _Fritick_
and so with many words difficult to pronounce. The child of three and
even of four years can remember separate experiences of his second
year, and a person that will take the pains to remind him frequently
of them will be able easily to carry the recollections of the second
and third years far on into the more advanced years of childhood. It
is merely because no one makes such a useless experiment that older
children lose the memory-images of their second year. These fade out
because they are not combined with new ones.
At what time, however, the first natural association of a particular
idea with a new one that appears weeks or months later, takes place
without being called up by something in the mean time, is very hard to
determine. On this point we must first gather good observations out of
the second and third half-years, like the following:
"In the presence of a boy a year and a half old it was related that
another boy whom he knew, and who was then in the country far away,
had fallen and hurt his knee. No one noticed the child, who was
playing as the story was told. After some weeks the one who had fallen
came into the room, and the little one in a lively manner ran up to
the new-comer and cried, 'Fall, hurt leg!'" (Stiebel, 1865).
Another example is given by G. Lindner (1882): "The mother of a
two-year-old child had made for it out of a postal-card a sled
(Schlitten), which was destroyed after a few hours, and found its way
into the waste-basket. Just four weeks later another postal-card comes,
and it is taken from the carrier by the child and handed to the mother
with the words,'_Mamma, Litten!_' This was in summer, when there was
nothing to remind the child of the sled. Soon after the same wish was
expressed on the receipt of a letter also."
I have known like cases of attention, of recollection, and of
intelligence in the third year where they were not suspected. The
child, unnoticed, hears all sorts of things said, seizes on this or
that expression, and weeks after brings into connection, fitly or
unfitly, the memory-images, drawing immediately from an insufficient
number of particular cases a would-be general conclusion.
Equally certain with this fact is the other, less known or less
noticed, that, _even before the first attempts at speaking, such a
generalizing and therefore concept-forming combination of
memory-images regularly takes place_.
All children in common have inborn in them the ability to combine all
sorts of sense-impressions connected with food, when these appear
again individually, with one another, or with memory-images of such
impressions, so that adaptive movements suited to the obtaining of
fresh food arise as the result of this association. In the earlier
months these are simple and easier to be seen, and I have given
several examples (Vol. I, pp. 250, 260, 329, 333). Later such
movements, through the perfecting of the language of gesture and the
growth of this very power of association, become more and more
complicated: e. g., in his sixteenth month my boy saw a closed box,
out of which he had the day before received a cake; he at once made
with his hands a begging movement, yet he could not speak a word. In
the twenty-first month I took out of the pocket of a coat which was
hanging with many others in the wardrobe a biscuit and gave it to the
child. When he had eaten it, he went directly to the wardrobe and
looked in the right coat for a second biscuit. At this period also the
child can not have been thinking in the unspoken words, "Get
biscuit--wardrobe, coat, pocket, look," for he did not yet know the
words.
Even in the sixth month an act of remarkable _adaptiveness_ was once
observed, which can not be called either accidental or entirely
voluntary, and if it was fully purposed it would indicate a
well-advanced development of understanding in regard to food without
knowledge of words. When the child, viz., after considerable
experience in nursing at the breast, discovered that the flow of milk
was less abundant, he used to place his hand hard on the breast as if
he wanted to force out the milk by pressure. Of course there was here
no insight into the causal connection, but it is a question whether
the firm laying on of the little hand was not repeated for the reason
that the experience had been once made accidentally, that after doing
this the nursing was less difficult.
On the other hand, an unequivocal complicated act of deliberation
occurred in the seventeenth month. The child could not reach his
playthings in the cupboard, because it was too high for him; he ran
about, brought a traveling-bag, got upon it, and took what he wanted.
In this case he could not possibly think in words, since he did not
yet know words.
My child tries further (in the nineteenth and twentieth months) in a
twofold fashion to make known his eager wish to leave the room, not
being as yet able to speak. He takes any cloth he fancies and brings
it to me. I put it about him, he wraps himself in it, and, climbing
beseechingly on my knee, makes longing, pitiful sounds, which do not
cease until after I have opened a door through which he goes into
another room. Then he immediately throws away the cloth and runs about
exulting.
The other performance is this: When the child feels the need of
relieving his bowels, he is accustomed to make peculiar grunting
sounds, by means of a strain of the abdomen, shutting the mouth and
breathing loud, by jerks, through the nose. He is then taken away.
Now, if he is not suited with the place where he happens to be, at any
time, he begins to make just such sounds. If he is taken away, no such
need appears at all, but he is in high glee. Here is the expectation,
"I shall be taken away if I make that sound."
Whether we are to admit, in addition, an intentional _deception_ in this
case, or whether only a logical process takes place, I can not decide.
In the whole earlier and later behavior of the child there is no ground
for the first assumption, and the fact that he employs this artifice
while in his carriage, immediately after he has been waited on, is
directly against it.
To how small an extent, some time previous to this, perceptions were
made use of _to simplify his own exertions_, i. e., were combined and
had motor effect, appears from an observation in the sixteenth month.
Earlier than this, when I used to say, "Give the ring," I always laid an
ivory ring, that was tied to a thread, before the child, on the table. I
now said the same thing--after an interval of a week--while the same
ring was hanging near the chair by a red thread a foot long, so that the
child, as he sat on the chair, could just reach it, but only with much
pains. He made a grasp now, upon getting the sound-impression "ring,"
not at the thread, which would have made the seizure of the ring,
hanging freely, very easy for him, but directly at the ring hanging far
below him, and gave it to me. And when the command was repeated, it did
not occur to him to touch the thread.
It is likewise a sign of small understanding that the mouth is always
opened in smelling of a fragrant flower or perfume (Vol. I, p. 135).
Deficiencies of this kind are, indeed, quite logical from the standpoint
of childish experience. Because, at an earlier period the pleasant smell
(of milk) always came in connection with the pleasant taste, therefore,
thinks the child, in every case where there is a pleasant smell there
will also be something that tastes good. The common or collective
concept _taste-smell_ had not yet (in the seventeenth month) been
differentiated into the concepts taste and smell.
In the department of the sense of hearing the differentiation generally
makes its appearance earlier; memory, as a rule, later. Yet children
whose talent for music is developed early, retain _melodies_ even in
their first year of life. A girl to whom some of the Froebel songs were
sung, and who was taught appropriate movements of the hands and feet,
always performed the proper movement when one of the melodies was merely
hummed, or a verse was said (in the thirteenth month), without
confounding them at all. This early and firm association of sound-images
with motor-images is possible only when interest is attached to it--i. e.,
when the attention has been directed often, persistently, and with
concentration, upon the things to be combined. Thus, this very child (in
the nineteenth month), when her favorite song, "Who will go for a
Soldier?" ("Wer will unter die Soldaten?") was sung to her, could not
only join in the rhyme at the end of the verse, but, no matter where a
stop was made, she would go on, in a manner imperfect, indeed, but
easily intelligible (Frau Dr. Friedemann).
Here, however, in addition to memory and attention, heredity is to be
considered; since such a talent is wholly lacking in certain families,
but in others exists in all the brothers and sisters.
In performances of this kind, a superior understanding is not by any
means exhibited, but a stronger memory and faculty of association. These
associations are not, however, of a logical sort, but are habits
acquired through training, and they may even retard the development of
the intellect if they become numerous. For they may obstruct the
formation, at an early period, of independent ideas, merely on account
of the time they claim. Often, too, these artificial associations are
almost useless for the development of the intellect. They are too
special. On this ground I am compelled to censure the extravagancies,
that are wide-spread especially in Germany, of the Froebel methods of
occupying young children.
The _logic of the child_ naturally operates at the beginning with much
more extensive, and therefore less intensive, notions than those of
adults, with notions which the adult no longer forms. But the child does
not, on that account, proceed illogically, although he does proceed
awkwardly. Some further examples may illustrate.
The adult does not ordinarily try whether a door that he has just bolted
is fast; but the one-year-old child tests carefully the edge of the
door he has shut, to see whether it is really closed, because he does
not understand the effect of lock and bolt. For even in the eighteenth
month he goes back and forth with a key, to the writing-desk, with the
evident purpose of opening it. But at twelve months, when he tries
whether it is fast, he does not think of the key at all, and does not
yet possess a single word.
An adult, before watering flowers with a watering-pot, will look to see
whether there is water in it. The child of a year and a half, who has
seen how watering is done, finds special pleasure in going from flower
to flower, even with an empty watering-pot, and making the motions of
pouring upon each one separately, as if water would really come out. For
him the notion "watering-pot" is identical with the notion "filled
watering-pot," because at first he was acquainted with the latter only.
Much of what is attributed to imagination in very young children rests
essentially on the formation of such vague concepts, on the inability to
combine constant qualities into sharply defined concepts. When, in the
twenty-third month, the child holds an empty cup to his mouth and sips
and swallows, and does it repeatedly, and with a serene, happy
expression, this "play" is founded chiefly on the imperfect notion
"filled cup." The child has so often perceived something to drink,
drinking-vessel, and the act of drinking, in combination with one
another, that the one peremptorily demands the other when either appears
singly; hence the pleasure in pouring out from empty pitchers into empty
cups, and in drinking out of empty cups (in second to fifth years).
When adults do the same in the play of the theatre, this action always
has a value as language, it signifies something for other persons; but
with the child, who plays in this fashion entirely alone, the pleasure
consists in the production of familiar ideas together with agreeable
feelings, which are, as it were, crystallized with comparative clearness
out of the dull mass of undefined perceptions. These memory-images
become real existences, like the hallucinations of the insane, because
the sensuous impressions probably impress themselves directly--without
reflection--upon the growing brain, and hence the memory-images of them,
on account of their vividness, can not always be surely distinguished
from the perceptions themselves. Most of the plays that children invent
of themselves may be referred to this fact; on the other hand, the play
of hide-and-seek (especially in the seventeenth and eighteenth months),
and, nearly allied to this, the hunting after scraps of paper, bits of
biscuit, buttons, and other favorite objects (in the fifteenth month),
constitute an intellectual advance.
By practice in this kind of seeking for well-known, purposely concealed
objects, the intelligence of little children can easily be increased to
an astonishing degree, so that toward the end of the second year they
already understand some simple tricks of the juggler; for example,
making a card disappear. But after I had discontinued such exercises for
months, the ordinary capacity for being duped was again present.
This ease with which children can be deceived is to be attributed to
lack of experience far more than to lack of intelligence. When the child
of a year and a half offers leaves to a sheep or a stag, observes the
strange animal with somewhat timid astonishment, and a few days after
holds out some hastily plucked grass-blades to a chaffinch he sees
hopping across the road, supposing that the bird will likewise take them
from his hand and eat them--an observation that I made on my child
exactly as Sigismund did on his--it is not right to call such an act
"stupid"; the act shows ignorance--i. e., inexperience--but it is not
illogical. The child would be properly called stupid only in case he did
not _learn_ the difference between the animals fed. When, on the other
hand, the child of two and a half years, entirely of his own accord,
holds a watch first to his left ear, then to his right, listens both
times, and then says, "The watch goes, goes too!" then, pointing with
his finger to a clock, cries with delight, "The clock goes too," we
rightly find in such independent induction a proof of intellect. For the
swinging of the pendulum and the ticking had indeed often been
perceived, but to connect the notion of a "going clock" with the visible
but noiseless swinging, just as with the audible but invisible ticking
of the watch, requires a pretty well advanced power of abstraction.
That the ability to _abstract_ may show itself, though imperfectly, even
in the first year, is, according to my observations, certain. Infants
are struck by a quality of an object--e. g., the white appearance of
milk. The "taking away" or "abstracting" then consists in the isolating
of this quality out of innumerable other sight-impressions and the
blending of the impressions into a concept. The _naming_ of this, which
begins months later, by a rudimental word, like _mum_, is an outward
sign of this abstraction, which did not at all lead to the formation of
the concept, but followed it, as will be shown in detail further on (in
the two following chapters).
It would be interesting to collect observations concerning this
reasoning power in the very earliest period, because at that time
language does not interfere to help or to hinder. But it is just such
observations that we especially lack. When a child in the twelfth month,
on hearing a watch for the first time, cries out, "Tick-tick," looking
meantime at the clock on the wall, he has not, in doing this, "formed,"
as G. Lindner supposes, "his first concept, although a vague and empty
one as yet," but he had the concept before, and has now merely given a
name to it for the first time.
The first observation made in regard to his child by Darwin, which
seemed to him to prove "a sort of practical reflection," occurred on the
one hundred and forty-fourth day. The child grasped his father's finger
and drew it to his mouth, but his own hand prevented him from sucking
the finger. The child then, strangely enough, instead of entirely
withdrawing his hand, slipped it along the finger so that he could get
the end of the finger into his mouth. This proceeding was several times
repeated, and was evidently not accidental but intentional. At the age
of five months, associations of ideas arose independently of all
instruction. Thus, e. g., the child, being dressed in hat and cloak, was
very angry if he was not at once taken out of doors.
How strong the _reasoning power without_ words may be at a later period,
the following additional observations show:
From the time when my child, like Sigismund's (both in the fifteenth
month), had burned his finger in the flame of the candle, he could not
be induced to put his finger near the flame again, but he would
sometimes put it in fun toward the flame without touching it, and he
even (eighteen months old) carried a stick of wood of his own accord to
the stove-door and pushed it in through the open slide, with a proud
look at his parents. There is surely something more than an imitation
here.
Further, my child at first never used to let his mouth and chin be wiped
without crying; from the fifteenth month on he kept perfectly quiet
during the disagreeable operation. He must have noticed that this was
finished sooner when he was quiet.
The same thing can be observed in every little child, provided he is not
too much talked to, punished, yielded to, or spoiled. In the nineteenth
month it happened with my child that he resisted the command to lie down
in the evening. I let him cry, and raise himself on his bed, but did not
take him up, did not speak to him, did not use any force, but remained
motionless and watchful near by. At last he became tired, lay down, and
fell asleep directly. Here he acquired an understanding of the
uselessness of crying in order to avoid obedience to commands.
The _knowledge_ of right (what is allowed and commanded) and of wrong
(what is forbidden) had been long since acquired. In the seventeenth
month, e. g., a sense of cleanliness was strongly developed, and later
(in the thirty-third month) the child could not, without lively protest,
behold his nurse acting contrary to the directions that had been given
to himself--e. g., putting the knife into her mouth or dipping bread
into the milk. Emotions of this kind are less a proof of the existence
of a sense of duty than of the _understanding_ that violations of
well-known precepts have unpleasant consequences--i. e., that certain
actions bring in their train pleasant feelings, while other acts bring
unpleasant feelings. How long before the knowledge of words these
emotions began to exist I have, unfortunately, not succeeded in
determining.
But in many of the above cases--and they might without difficulty be
multiplied by diligent observation--there is not the least indication of
any influence of spoken words. Whether no attempt at speaking has
preceded, or whether a small collection of words may have been made, the
cases of child-intelligence adduced in this chapter, observed by myself,
prove that without knowledge of verbal language, and independently of
it, the logical activity of the child attains a high degree of
development, and no reason exists for explaining the intelligent actions
of children who do not yet speak at all--i. e., do not yet clothe their
ideas in words, but do already combine them with one another--as being
different specifically from the intelligent (not instinctive) actions of
sagacious orangs and chimpanzees. The difference consists far more in
this, that the latter can not form so many, so clear, and so abstract
conceptions, or so many and complicated combinations of ideas, as can
the gifted human child in the society of human beings--_even before he
has learned to speak_. When he has learned to speak, then the gap widens
to such an extent that what before was in some respects almost the
equal of humanity seems now a repulsive caricature of it.
In order, then, to understand the real difference between brute and man,
it is necessary to ascertain how a child and a brute animal may have
ideas without words, and may combine them for an end: whether it is
done, e. g., with memory-images, as in dreaming. And it is necessary
also to investigate the _essential character of the process of learning
to speak_.
Concerning the first problem, which is of uncommon psychogenetic
interest and practical importance, a solution seems to be promised in
the investigation of the formation of concepts in the case of those born
deaf, the so-called deaf and dumb children. On this point I offer first
the words of a man of practical experience.
The excellent superintendent of the Educational Institute for the Deaf
and Dumb in Weimar, C. Oehlwein (1867), well says:
"The deaf-mute in his first years of life looks at, turns over, feels of
objects that attract him, on all sides, and approaches those that are at
a distance. By this he receives, like the young child who has all his
senses, sensations and sensuous ideas;[C] and from the objects
themselves he apprehends a number of qualities, which he compares with
one another or with the qualities of other objects, but always refers to
the object which at the time attracts him. Herein he has a more correct
or less correct sense-intuition of this object, according as he has
observed, compared, and comprehended more or less attentively. As this
object has affected him through sight and feeling, so he represents it
to other persons also by characteristic signs for sight and indirectly
for feeling also. He shapes or draws a copy of the object seen and felt
with life and movement. For this he avails himself of the means that
Nature has placed directly within human power--the control over the
movement of the facial muscles, over the use of the hands, and, if
necessary, of the feet also. These signs, _not obtained from any one's
suggestion_, self-formed, which the deaf-mute employs directly in his
representation, are, as it were, the given outline of the image which he
has found, and they stand therefore in the closest relation to the inner
constitution of the individual that makes the representation.
"But we find not only that the individual senses of the deaf-mute, his
own observation and apprehension, are formative factors in the
occurrences of sensation and perception, as is of course the case, but
that the qualities of the objects observed by him, and associated,
according to his individual tendencies, are also raised by him, through
comparison, separation, grouping--through his own act, therefore--to
general ideas, concepts, although as yet imperfect ones, and they are
named and recognized again by peculiar signs intelligible to himself.
"But in this very raising of an idea to a general idea, to a concept--a
process connected with the forming of a sign--is manifested the
influence of the lack of hearing and of speech upon the psychical
development of the deaf-mute. It appears at first to be an advantage
that the sign by which the deaf-mute represents an idea is derived from
the impression, the image, the idea, which the user of the sign himself
has or has had; he expresses by the sign nothing foreign to him, but
only what has become his own. But this advantage disappears when
compared with the hindrance caused by this very circumstance in the
raising of the individual idea to a general idea, for the fact that the
latter is designated by the image, or the elements of the image in which
the former consists, is no small obstacle to it in attaining complete
generality. The same bond that unites the concept with the conceiver
binds it likewise to one of the individual ideas conceived--e. g., when,
by pointing to his own flesh, his own skin, he designates the concept
flesh, skin (in general also the flesh or the skin of animals); whereas,
by means of the word, which the child who has all his senses is obliged
to learn, a constraint is indeed exercised as something foreign, but a
constraint that simply enforces upon his idea the claim of generality.
"One example more. The deaf-mute designates the concept, or general
idea, 'red' by lightly touching his lips. With this sign he indicates
the red of the sky, of paintings, of dress-stuffs, of flowers, etc.
Thus, in however manifold connection with other concepts his concept
'red' may be repeated, it is to him as a concept always _one_ and the
same only. It is _common_ to _all_ the connections in which it
repeatedly occurs."
But before the thinking deaf-mute arrived at the concept "red," he
formed for himself the ideas "lip, dress, sky, flower," etc.
For a knowledge of intellectual development in the child possessed of
all the senses, and of the great extent to which he is independent of
verbal language in the formation of concepts, it is indispensable to
make a collection of such concepts as uneducated deaf-mutes not
acquainted either with the finger-alphabet or with articulation express
by means of their own gestures in a manner intelligible to others. Their
language, however, comprises "not only the various expressive changes of
countenance (play of feature), but also the varied movements of the
hands (gesticulations), the positions, attitudes, bearing, and movements
of the other parts of the entire body, through which the deaf-mute
naturally, i. e., _untouched by educational influences_, expresses his
ideas and conceptions." But I refrain from making such a catalogue here,
as we are concerned with the fact that _many concepts are, without any
learning of words whatever, plainly expressed and logically combined
with one another_, and their correctness is proved by the conduct of any
and every untaught child born deaf. Besides, such a catalogue, in order
to possess the psychogenetic value desired by me, needs a critical
examination extremely difficult to carry through as to whether the
"educational influences" supposed to be excluded are actually wholly
excluded in all cases as they really are in some cases, e. g., in regard
to food.
Degerando (1827) has enumerated a long list of concepts, which
deaf-mutes before they are instructed represent by pantomimic
gesture. Many of these forms of expression in French deaf-mutes are
identical with those of German. It is most earnestly to be wished
that this international language of feature and gesture used by
children entirely uninstructed, born deaf, may be made accessible to
psycho-physiological and linguistic study by means of pictorial
representations--photographic best of all. This should be founded on
the experiences of German, French, English, Russian, Italian, and
other teachers of deaf-mutes.
For there is hardly a better proof that thinking is not dependent on the
language of words than the conduct of deaf-mutes, who express, indeed,
many more concepts of unlike content in the same manner than any verbal
language does--just as children with all their senses do before they
possess a satisfactory stock of words--but who, by gesticulation and
pantomime before receiving any instruction, demonstrate that concepts
are formed without words.
With reference to the manner in which uneducated deaf-mutes speak, the
following examples are characteristic performances in gesture-language:
One deaf-mute asks another, "Stay, go you?" (look of inquiry). Answer:
"Go, I" (i. e., "Do you stay or go?" "I go"). "Hunter hare shoots."
"Arm, man, be strong," means, "The man's arm is strong."
"N., spectacles, see," means, "N. sees with the spectacles."
"Run I finished, go to sleep," means, "When I had finished running, I
went to sleep." "Money, you?" means, "Have you money?"
One of the most interesting sights I know of, in a psychological and
physiological point of view, is a conversation in gesture and pantomime
between two or three children born totally deaf, who do not know that
they are observed. I am indebted to Director Oehlwein, of Weimar, for
the opportunity of such observations, as also for the above questions
and answers. Especially those children (of about seven years) not yet
instructed in articulation employ an astonishing number of looks and
gestures, following one upon another with great rapidity, in order to
effect an understanding with one another. They understand one another
very easily, but, because their gestures, and particularly their
excessively subtilized play of feature, do not appear in ordinary life,
these children are just as hard to understand for the uninitiated as are
men who speak a wholly foreign language without any gestures. Even the
eye of the deaf-mute has a different expression from that of the person
who talks. The look seems more "interested," and manifestly far fewer
unnecessary movements of the eyes and contractions of the facial muscles
are made by the deaf-mute than by the child of the same age who has his
hearing.
Further, deaf-mutes, even those of small ability, imitate all sorts of
movements that are plainly visible much better, in general, than do
persons with all their senses. I made, in presence of the children,
several not very easy crossings of the fingers, put my hands in
different positions, and the like--movements that they could not ever
have seen--and I was surprised that some of the children at once made
them deftly, whereas ordinary children, first consider a long time, and
then imitate clumsily. It is doubtless this exaltation of the imitative
functions in deaf-mute children which makes it appear as if they
themselves invented their gestures (see above, p. 23). Certainly they do
not get their first signs through "any one's suggestion," they form them
for themselves, but, so far as I see, only through imitation and the
hereditary expressive movements. The signs are in great part themselves
unabridged imitations. The agreement, or "convention," which many
teachers of deaf-mutes assume, and which would introduce an entirely
causeless, not to say mysterious, principle, consists in this, that all
deaf-mutes in the beginning imitate the same thing in the same way.
Thus, through this perfectly natural accord of all, it comes to pass
that they understand one another. When they have gained ideas, then they
combine the separate signs in manifold ways, as one who speaks combines
words, in order to express new ideas; they become thereby more and more
difficult to be understood, and often are only with difficulty
understood even among themselves; and they are able only in very limited
degree to form concepts of a higher order. "Nothing, being dead,
space"--these are concepts of a very high order for them.
For this reason it is easy to comprehend that a deaf-mute child,
although he has learned but few words through instruction in
articulation, weaves these continually into his pantomimic
conversation in place of his former elaborate gestures. I observed
that individual children, born totally deaf, preferred, even in
conversation with one another, and when ignorant of the fact that I
was observing them, the articulate words just learned, although these
were scarcely intelligible, to their own signs.
Thus mighty is the charm of the spoken word, even when the child does
not himself hear it, but merely feels it with his tongue.
But the schooling the deaf-mute must go through in order to become
acquainted with the sensations of sight, touch, and movement that go
with the sound, is unspeakably toilsome.
W. Gude says in his treatise, remarkable alike for acuteness and
clearness, "Principles and Outlines of the Exposition of a Scheme of
Instruction for an Institution for Deaf-Mutes" ("Grundsätze und
Grundzüge zur Aufstellung eines Lehrplans für eine Taubstummen-Anstalt,"
1881): "The utterances of tones and of articulate sounds called forth by
involuntary stimulus during the first years, in deaf-mutes, are such
unimportant motor phenomena that they are not immediately followed by a
motor sensation. But when the deaf-mute child is more awake mentally, he
perceives that his relatives make movements of the mouth in their
intercourse, and repeated attempts of those about him to make themselves
intelligible by pronouncing certain words to him are not entirely
without effect upon the deaf-mute that is intellectually active. When
such deaf-mutes now direct their attention to the matter, they succeed
in regard to only a part of the sounds--those that are conspicuous to
the eye in their utterance--in getting a tolerable imitation. Individual
deaf-mutes go so far, in fact, as to understand various words correctly
without repeating them; others succeed gradually in repeating such words
as 'papa, mamma,' so that one can understand what is meant. Those who
are deaf-mutes from birth do not, however, of themselves, succeed in
imitating accurately other vocal sounds in general."
A deaf-mute, who had not been instructed, explained to Romanes, at a
later period when he had learned the sign-language, that he had before
thought in "images," which means nothing else than that he, in place of
the words heard (in our case) and the digital signs seen (in his case),
had made use of memory-images gained from visual impressions, for
distinguishing his concepts. Laura Bridgman, too, a person in general
the subject of very incorrect inferences, who was not blind and deaf
from birth, could form a small number of concepts that were above the
lowest grade. These originated from the materials furnished by the sense
of touch, the muscular sense and general sensibility, before she had
learned a sort of finger-language. But she had learned to speak somewhat
before she became dumb and blind. Children with sight, born deaf, seem
not to be able to perform the simplest arithmetical operations, e. g.,
214-96 and 908 X 70 (according to Asch, 1865), until after several years
of continuous instruction in articulate speaking. They do succeed,
however, and that without sound-images of words, and perhaps, too,
without sight-images of words; in mental arithmetic without knowledge of
written figures, by help of the touch-images of words which the tongue
furnishes.
In any case uneducated persons born deaf can count by means of the
fingers without the knowledge of figures; and, when they go beyond 10,
the notched stick comes to their aid (Sicard and Degerando).
The language of gesture and feature in very young children, born dumb
and not treated differently from other children, shows also, in most
abundant measure, that concepts are formed without words. The child born
deaf uses the primitive language of gesture to the same extent as does
the child that has his hearing; the former makes himself intelligible by
actions and sounds as the latter does, so that his deficiency is not
suspected. This natural language is also _understood_ by the child born
deaf, so far as it is recognizable by his eye. In the look and the
features of his mother he reads her mood. But he very early becomes
quiet and develops for himself, "out of unconscious gesticulation, the
gesture language, which at first is not conventional, nay, is not in the
strict sense quite a sign-language, but a mimetic-plastic representation
of the influences experienced from the external world," since the
deaf-mute imitates movements perceived, and the attitude of persons and
the position of objects. Upon this pantomime alone rests the possibility
of coming to an understanding, within a certain range, with deaf-mutes
that have had no instruction at all. It can not, therefore, in its
elementary form be conventional, as Hill, to whom I owe these data,
rightly maintains. He writes concerning the child born deaf: "His voice
seems just like that of other children. He screams, weeps, according as
he feels uncomfortable; he starts when frightened by any noise. Even
friendly address, toying, fun, serious threats, are understood by him as
early as by any child." But he does not hear his own voice; it is not
sound that frightens him, but the concussion; it is not the pleasant
word that delights him, but the pleasant countenance of his mother. "It
even happens, not seldom, that through encouragement to use the voice,
these children acquire a series of articulate sounds, and a number of
combinations of sounds, which they employ as the expression of their
wishes." They not only _point out_ the object desired, not only
_imitate_ movements that are to procure what they want, but they also
outline the forms of objects wished for. They are able to conduct
themselves so intelligently in this, that the deaf-mute condition is not
discovered till the second year, or even later, and then chiefly by
their use of the eye, because in case of distant objects only those seen
excite their attention.
From this behavior of infants born deaf it manifestly follows that even
without the possibility of natural imitation of sounds, and without the
knowledge of a single word, qualities may be blended with qualities into
concepts. Thus, _primitive thinking is not bound up with verbal
language_. It demands, however, a certain development of the cerebrum,
probably a certain very considerable number of ganglionic cells in the
cerebral cortex, that stand in firm organic connection with one another.
The difference between an uninstructed young deaf-mute and a cretin is
immense. The former can learn a great deal through instruction in
speaking, the latter can not. This very ability to learn, in the child
born deaf, is greater than in the normal child, in respect to pantomime
and gesture. If a child with his hearing had to grow up among
deaf-mutes, he would undoubtedly learn their language, and would in
addition enjoy his own voice without being able to make use of it; but
he would probably be discovered, further on, without testing his
hearing, by the fact that he was not quite so complete a master of this
gesture-language as the deaf-mutes, on account of the diversion of his
attention by sound.
The total result of the foregoing observations concerning the capacity
of accomplishment on the part of uneducated deaf-mutes in regard to the
natural language of gesture and feature, demonstrates more plainly than
any other fact whatever that, without words and without signs for words,
thought-activity exists--that thinking takes place when both words and
signs for words are wanting. Wherefore, then, should the logical
combination of ideas in the human being born perfect begin only with the
speaking of words or the learning to speak? Because the adult supposes
that he no longer thinks without words, he easily draws the erroneous
conclusion that no one, that not even he himself, could think before the
knowledge of verbal language. In truth, however, it was _not language
that generated the intellect; it is the intellect that formerly invented
language: and even now the new-born human being brings with him into the
world far more intellect than talent for language_.
FOOTNOTES:
[C] Empfindungsvorstellungen.
CHAPTER XVII.
LEARNING TO SPEAK.
No human being remembers how he learned his mother-tongue in early
youth, and the whole human race has forgotten the origin of its
articulate speech as well as of its gestures; but every individual
passes perceptibly through the stage of learning to speak, so that a
patient observer recognizes much as conformable to law.
The acquisition of speech belongs to those physiological problems which
can not be solved by the most important means possessed by physiology,
vivisection. And the speechless condition in which every human being is
born can not be regarded as a disease that may be healed by instruction,
as is the case with certain forms of acquired aphasia. A set of other
accomplishments, such as swimming, riding, fencing, piano-playing, the
acquirement of which is physiological, are learned like articulate
speech, and nobody calls the person that can not swim an anomaly on that
account. The _inability to appropriate_ to one's self these and other
co-ordinated muscular movements, this alone is abnormal. But we can not
tell in advance in the case of any new-born child whether he will learn
to speak or not, just as in the case of one who has suffered an
obstruction of speech or has entirely lost speech, it is not certain
whether he will ever recover it.
In this the normal child that does _not yet_ speak perfectly,
resembles the diseased adult who, for any cause, _no longer_ has
command of language. And to compare these two with each other is the
more important, as at present no other empirical way is open to us for
investigating the nature of the process of learning to speak; but this
way conducts us, fortunately, through pathology, to solid, important
physiological conclusions.
1. Disturbances of Speech in Adults.
The command of language comprises, on the one hand, the understanding of
what is spoken; on the other hand, the utterance of what is thought. It
is at the height of its performance in free, intelligible, connected
speech. Everything that disturbs the _understanding of words heard_ must
be designated disturbance of speech equally with everything that
disturbs _the production of words_ and sentences.
By means of excellent investigations made by many persons, especially by
Broca, Wernicke, Kussmaul, it has become possible to make a topical
division of most of the observed disturbances of speech of both kinds.
In the first class, which comprises the _impressive_ processes, we have
to consider every functional disturbance of the peripheral ear, of the
auditory nerve and of the central ends of the auditory nerve; in the
second class, viz., the _expressive_ processes, we consider every
functional disturbance of the apparatus required for articulation,
including the nerves belonging to this in their whole extent, in
particular the hypoglossus, as motor nerve of the tongue, and certain
parts of the cerebral hemispheres from which the nerves of speech are
excited and to which the sense-impressions from without are so conducted
by connecting fibers that they themselves or their memory-images can
call forth expressive, i. e., motor processes. The diagram, Fig. 1,
illustrates the matter.
[Illustration: FIG. 1.]
The peripheral ear _o_, with the terminations of the auditory nerve, is
by means of sensory fibers _a_, that are connected with the auditory
nerve, in connection with the storehouse of sound-impressions, K. This
is connected by means of the intercentral paths _v_ with the motor
speech-center M. From it go out special fibers of communication, _h_, to
the motor nerves of speech which terminate in the external instruments
of articulation, _z_.
The impressive nerve-path, _o_ _a_ K, is centripetal; the expressive,
M _h_ _z_, centrifugal; _v_, intercentral.
When the normal child learns to speak, _o_ receives the
sound-impressions; by _a_ the acoustic-nerve excitations are passed
along to K, and are here stored up, every distinctly heard sound (a
tone, a syllable, a word) leaving an impression behind in K. It is
very remarkable here that, among the many sounds and noises that
impress themselves upon the portions of the brain directly connected
with the auditory nerve, a selection is made in the sound-field of
speech, K, since all those impressions that can be reproduced, among
them all the acoustic images necessary for speech, are preserved, but
many others are not, e. g., thunder, crackling. Memory is indistinct
with regard to these. From K, when the sound-images or
sound-impressions have become sufficiently strong and numerous, the
nerve-excitement goes farther through the connecting paths _v_ to M,
where it liberates motor impulses, and through _h_ sets in activity
the peripheral apparatus of speech, _z_.
Now, speech is disturbed when at any point the path _o_ _z_ is
interrupted, or the excitation conducted along the nerve-fibers and
ganglionic cells upon the hearing of something spoken or upon the
speaking of something represented in idea (heard inwardly) is arrested,
a thing which may be effected without a total interruption of the
conduction, e. g., by means of poison and through anatomical lesions.
On the basis of these physiological relations, about which there is no
doubt, I divide, then, all pure disturbances of speech, or
_lalopathies_, into three classes:
(1) Periphero-Impressive or Perceptive Disturbances.
The organ of hearing is injured _at its peripheral extremity_, or else
the acusticus in its course; then occurs _difficulty of hearing_ or
_deafness_. What is spoken is not correctly heard or not heard at all:
the utterance is correct only in case the lesion happened late. If it
is inborn, then this lack of speech, alalia, is called _deaf-mutism_,
although the so-called deaf and dumb are not in reality dumb, but only
deaf. If words spoken are incorrectly heard on account of acquired
defects of the peripheral ear, the patient mis-hears, and the abnormal
condition is called paracusis.
(2) Central Disturbances.
_a._ The higher impressive central paths are disturbed: _centro-sensory
dysphasia and aphasia_, or _word-deafness_. Words are heard but not
understood. The hearing is acute. "Patients may have perfectly correct
ideas, but they lack the correct expression for them; not the thoughts
but the words are confused. They would understand the ideas of others
also if they only understood the words. They are in the position of
persons suddenly transported into the midst of a people using the same
sounds but different words, which strike upon their ear like an
unintelligible noise." (Kussmaul.) Their articulation is without defect,
but what they say is unintelligible because the words are mutilated and
used wrongly. C. Wernicke discovered this form, and has separated it
sharply from other disturbances of speech. He designated it sensory
aphasia. Kussmaul later named this abnormal condition word-deafness
(surditas verbalis).
_b._ The connections between the impressive sound-centers and the motor
speech-center are injured. Then we have intercentral conductive
dysphasia and aphasia. What is spoken is heard and understood correctly
even when _v_ is completely interrupted. The articulation is not
disturbed, and yet the patient utters no word of himself. He can,
however, read aloud what is written. (Kussmaul.) The word that has just
been read aloud by the patient can not be repeated by him, neither can
the word that has been pronounced to him; and, notwithstanding this, he
reads aloud with perfect correctness. In this case, then, it is
impossible for the patient of his own motion, even if the memory of the
words heard were not lost, to set in activity the expressive mechanism
of speech, although it might remain uninjured.
_c._ The motor speech-center is injured. Then we have centro-motor
dysphasia and aphasia. If the center is completely and exclusively
disturbed, then it is a case of pure ataxic aphasia. Spontaneous
speaking, saying over of words said by another, and reading aloud of
writing, are impossible. (Kussmaul.) On the other hand, words heard are
understood, although the concepts belonging with them can not be
expressed aloud. The verbal memory remains; and the patient can still
express his thoughts in writing and can copy in writing what he reads or
what is dictated to him.
(3) Periphero-Expressive or Articulatory Disturbances.
The centrifugal paths from the motor speech-center to the motor nerves
of speech and to their extremities, or else these nerves themselves,
are injured. Then occurs _dysarthria_, and, if the path is totally
impassable at any place, _anarthria_. The hearing and understanding of
words are not hindered, but speaking, repeating the words of others,
and reading aloud are, as in the last case (2, _c_), impossible. In
general this form can not be distinguished from the foregoing when
both are developed in an extreme degree, except in cases of peripheral
dysarthria, i. e., dyslalia, since, as may be easily understood, it
makes no difference in the resulting phenomena whether the motor
center itself is extirpated or its connections with the motor outlet
are absolutely cut off just where the latter begins; but if this
latter is injured nearer to the periphery, e. g., if the hypoglossus
is paralyzed, then the phenomena are different (paralalia, mogilalia).
Here belongs all so-called mechanical dyslalia, caused by defects of
the peripheral speech-apparatus.
Of these five forms each occurs generally only in connection with
another; for this reason the topical diagnosis also is often
extraordinarily difficult. But enough cases have been accurately
observed and collected to put it almost beyond a doubt that each form
may also appear for a short time purely by itself. To be sure, the
anatomical localization of the impressive and expressive paths is not
yet ascertained, so that for the present the centripetal roads from
the acusticus to the motor speech-center, and the intercentral fibers
that run to the higher centers, are as much unknown as the centrifugal
paths leading from them to the nuclei of the hypoglossus; but that the
speech-center discovered by Broca is situated in the posterior portion
of the third frontal convolution (in right-handed men on the left, in
left-handed on the right) is universally acknowledged.
Further, it results from the abundance of clinical material, that the
acoustic-center K must be divided into a sound-center L, a
syllable-center S, a word-center W, each of which may be in itself
defective, for cases have been observed in which sounds were still
recognized and reproduced, but not syllables and words, also cases in
which sounds and syllables could be dealt with but no words; and,
finally, cases in which all these were wanting. The original diagram
is thereby considerably complicated, as the simple path of connection
between K and M has added to it the arcs L S M and L S W M (Fig. 2).
[Illustration: FIG. 2.]
The surest test of the perfect condition of all the segments is afforded
by the repetition of sounds, syllables, and words pronounced by others.
Syllables and sounds, but no words, can be pronounced if W is missing
or the path S W or W M is interrupted; no syllables if S is missing or
L S or S M is interrupted. If L is missing, then nothing can be
repeated from hearing. If L M is interrupted, then syllables and words
are more easily repeated than simple sounds, so far as the latter are
not syllables. If L S is interrupted, then simple sounds only can be
repeated. All these abnormal states have been actually observed. The
proofs are to be found in Kussmaul's classic work on the disturbances
of speech (1877). Even the strange case appears in which, L M being
impracticable, syllables are more easily repeated than simple sounds.
If _a_ is interrupted before the acquirement of speech, and thus chronic
deafness is present in very early childhood, articulation may still be
learned through visual and tactile impressions; but in this case the
sound-center L is not developed. Another, a sound-touch-center, comes in
its place in deaf-mutes when they are instructed, chiefly through the
tactile sensations of the tongue; and, when they are instructed in
reading (and writing), a sound-sight-(or letter) center. This last is,
on the contrary, wanting to those born blind; and both are wanting to
those born blind and deaf. Instead is formed in them through careful
instruction, by means of the tactile sensations of the finger-tips, a
center for signs of sound that are known by touch (as with the printed
text for the blind).
Accordingly, the eye and ear are not absolutely indispensable to the
acquirement of a verbal language; but for the thorough learning of the
verbal language in its entire significance both are by all means
indispensable. For, the person born blind does not get the significance
of words pertaining to light and color. For him, therefore, a large
class of conceptions, an extensive portion of the vocabulary of his
language, remains empty sound. To the one born deaf there is likewise an
extensive district of conceptions closed, inasmuch as all words
pertaining to tone and noise remain unintelligible to him.
Moreover, those born blind and deaf, or those born blind and becoming
deaf very early, or those born deaf and becoming blind very early,
though they may possess ever so good intelligence, and perhaps even
learn to write letters, as did the famous Laura Bridgman, will
invariably understand only a small part of the vocabulary of their
language, and will not articulate correctly.
Those born deaf are precisely the ones that show plainly how necessary
hearing is for the acquirement of perfectly articulate speech. One who
is deaf from birth does not even learn to speak half a dozen sounds
correctly without assistance, and the loss of speech that regularly
follows deafness coming on in children who have already learned to
speak, shows how inseparably the learning and the development of perfect
articulation are bound up with the hearing. Even the deafness that comes
on in maturer years injures essentially the agreeable tone, often also
the intelligibility, of the utterance.
2. The Organic Conditions of Learning to Speak.
How is it, now, with the normal child, who is learning to speak? How is
it as to the existence and practicability of the nervous conduction, and
the genesis of the centers?
In order to decide these questions, a further extension of the diagram
is necessary (Fig. 3).
[Illustration: FIG. 3.]
For the last diagram deals only with the hearing and pronouncing of
sounds, syllables, and single words, not with the grammatical formation
and syntactical grouping of these; there must further be a center of
higher rank, the _dictorium_, or center of diction (Kussmaul), brought
into connection with the centers L S and W. And, on the one hand, the
word-image acquired (by hearing) must be at the disposition of the
diction-center, an excitation, therefore, passing from W to D (through
_m_); on the other hand, an impulse must go out from the diction-center
to pronounce the word that is formed and placed so as to correspond to
the sense (through _n_). The same is true for syllables and sounds,
whose paths to and from are indicated by _k_ and _l_, as well as by _g_
and _i_. These paths of connection must be of twofold sort. The
excitement can not pass off to the diction-center D on the same
anatomical path as the return impulse from D, because not a single case
is known of a nerve-fiber that in natural relations conducts both
centrifugally _and_ centripetally, although this possibility of double
conduction does occur under artificial circumstances. Apart, then, from
pathological experience, which seems to be in favor of it, the
separation of the two directions of the excitement seems to be justified
anatomically also. On the contrary, it is questionable whether the
impulse proceeding from D does not arrive directly at the motor
speech-center, instead of passing through W, S, or L. The diagram then
represents it as follows (Fig. 4). Here the paths of direct connection
_i_, _l_, and _n_ from D to M represent that which was just now
represented by _i_ L _d_ and _l_ S _e_ and _n_ W _f_, respectively; in
Fig. 4, _i_ conducts only sound-excitations coming from L, _l_ only
excitations coming from S, and _n_ only those coming from W, as impulses
for M. For the present, I see no way of deciding between the two
possibilities. They may even exist both together. All the following
statements concerning the localization of the disturbances of speech and
the parallel imperfections of child-speech apply indifferently to either
figure; it should be borne in mind that the nerve-excitement always goes
_only_ in the direction of the arrows, never in the opposite direction,
through the nervous path corresponding to them. Such a parallel is not
only presented, as I have found, and as I will show in what follows, by
the most superficial exhibition of the manifold deviations of
child-speech from the later perfect speech, but is, above all, necessary
for the answering of the question: what is the condition of things in
learning to speak?
[Illustration: FIG. 4.]
3. Parallel between the Disturbances of Speech in Adults and the
Imperfections of Speech in the Child.
In undertaking to draw such a parallel, I must first of all state that
in regard to the pathology of the subject, I have not much experience of
my own, and therefore I rely here upon Kussmaul's comprehensive work on
speech-disturbances, from which are taken most of the data that serve to
characterize the individual deviations from the rule. In that work also
may be found the explanations, or precise definitions, of almost all the
names--with the exception of the following, added here for the sake of
brevity--skoliophasia, skoliophrasia, and palimphrasia. On the other
hand, the statements concerning the speech of the child rest on my own
observations of children--especially of my own son--and readers who give
their attention to little children may verify them all; most of them,
indeed, with ease. Only the examples added for explaining mogilalia and
paralalia are taken in part from Sigismund, a few others from Vierordt.
They show more plainly (at least concerning rhotacism) than my own
notes, some imperfections of articulation of the child in the second
year, which occur, however, only in single individuals. In general the
defects of child-speech are found to be very unequally distributed among
different ages and individuals, so that we can hardly expect to find all
the speech-disturbances of adults manifested in typical fashion in one
and the same child. But with very careful observation it may be done,
notwithstanding; and when several children are compared with one another
in this respect, the analogies fairly force themselves upon the
observer, and there is no break anywhere.
The whole group into which I have tried to bring in organic connection
all the kinds of disturbances and defects of speech in systematic form
falls into three divisions:
1. Imperfections not occasioned by disturbance of the intelligence--pure
speech-disturbances or _lalopathies_.
2. Imperfections occasioned solely by disturbances of the
intelligence--disturbances of continuous speech or discourse
(Rede)--_dysphrasies_.
3. Imperfections of the language of gesture and feature--_dysmimies_.
I. LALOPATHY.
A. THE IMPRESSIVE PERIPHERAL PROCESSES DISTURBED.
_Deafness._--Persons able to speak but who have become deaf do not
understand what is spoken simply because they can _no longer_ hear. The
newly born do not understand what is spoken because they can _not yet_
hear. The paths _o_ and _a_ are not yet practicable. All those just born
are deaf and dumb.
_Difficulty of Hearing._--Persons who have become hard of hearing do not
understand what is spoken, or they misunderstand, because they _no
longer_ hear distinctly. Such individuals easily hear wrong (paracusis).
Very young infants do not understand what is spoken, for the reason that
they do _not yet_ hear distinctly; _o_ and _a_ are still difficult for
the acoustic nerve-excitement to traverse. Little children very easily
hear wrong on this account.
B. THE CENTRAL PROCESSES DISTURBED.
_Dysphasia._--In the child that can use only a small number of words,
the cerebral and psychical act through which he connects these with his
ideas and gives them grammatical form and syntactical construction in
order to express the movement of his thought is _not yet_ complete.
(1) The Sensory Processes centrally disturbed.
_Sensory Aphasia_ (Wernicke), _Word-Deafness_ (Kussmaul).--The child, in
spite of good hearing and sufficiently developed intelligence, can _not
yet_ understand spoken words because the path _m_ is not yet formed and
the storehouse of word images W is still empty or is just in the stage
of origination.
_Amnesia, Amnesic Dysphasia and Aphasia, Partial and Total Word-Amnesia,
Memory-Aphasia._--The child has as yet no word-memory, or only a weak
one, utters meaningless sounds and sound-combinations. He can _not yet_
use words because he does not yet have them at his disposal as acoustic
sound-combinations. In this stage, however, much that is said to him can
be repeated correctly in case W is passable, though empty or imperfectly
developed.
(2) The Sensori-motor Processes of Diction disturbed.
_Acataphasia_ (Steinthal).--The child that has already a considerable
number of words at his disposal is _not yet_ in condition to arrange
them in a sentence syntactically. He can _not yet_ frame correct
sentences to express the movement of his thought, because his
diction-center D is still imperfectly developed. He expresses a whole
sentence by a word; e. g., _hot!_ means as much as "The milk is too hot
for me to drink," and then again it may mean "The stove is too hot!"
_Man!_ means "A strange man has come!"
_Dysgrammatism_ (Kussmaul) _and Agrammatism_ (Steinthal).--Children can
_not yet_ put words into correct grammatical form, decline, or
conjugate. They like to use the indefinite noun-substantive and the
infinitive, likewise to some extent the past participle. They prefer the
weak inflection, ignore and confound the articles, conjunctions,
auxiliaries, prepositions, and pronouns. In place of "I" they say their
own names, also _tint_ (for "Kind"--child or "baby"). Instead of "Du,
er, Sie" (thou, he, you), they use proper names, or man, papa, mamma.
Sometimes, too, the adjectives are placed after the nouns, and the
meaning of words is indicated by their position with reference to
others, by the intonation, by looks and gestures. Agrammatism in
child-language always appears in company with acataphasia, often also in
insane persons. When the imbecile Tony says, "Tony flowers taken,
attendant come, Tony whipped" (Tony Blumen genommen, Wärterin gekommen,
Tony gehaut), she speaks exactly like a child (Kussmaul), without
articles, pronouns, or auxiliary verbs, and, like the child, uses the
weak inflection. The connection _m_ of the word-image-center W with the
diction-center D, i. e., of the word-memory with grammar, and the
centers themselves, are as yet very imperfectly developed, unused.
_Bradyphasia._--Children that can already frame sentences take a
surprising amount of time in speaking on account of the slowness of
their diction. In D and W _m_ in the cerebral cortex the hindrances are
still great because of too slight practice.
(3) The Motor Processes centrally disturbed.
_a. Centro-motor Dysphasia and Aphasia, Aphemia, Asymbolia,
Asemia._--Children have not yet learned, or have hardly learned, the use
of language, although their intelligence is already sufficient. There is
no longer any deficiency in the development of the external organs of
speech, no muscular weakness, no imperfection of the nervous structures
that effect the articulation of the separate sounds, for intelligence
shows itself in the child's actions; he forms the separate sounds
correctly, unintentionally; his hearing is good and the sensory
word-memory is present, since the child already obeys. His _not yet_
speaking at this period (commonly as late as the second year) must
accordingly be essentially of centro-motor character.
In the various forms of this condition there is injury or lack of
sufficient relative development either in the centro-motorium M or in
the paths that lead into it, _d_, _e_, _f_ as well as _i_, _l_, _n_.
_[alpha]. Central Dysarthria and Anarthria._--In the child at the stage
of development just indicated articulation is _not yet_ perfect,
inasmuch as while he often unintentionally pronounces correctly sounds,
syllables, and single words, yet he can not form these intentionally,
although he hears and understands them aright. He makes use of gestures.
_Ataxic Aphasia (Verbal Anarthria)._--The child that already understands
several words as sound-combinations and retains them (since he obeys),
can not yet use these in speech because he has not yet the requisite
centro-motor impulses. He forms correctly the few syllables he has
already learned of his future language, i. e., those he has at the time
in memory as sound-combinations (sensory), but can _not yet_ group them
into new words; e. g., he says _bi_ and _te_ correctly, learns also to
say "_bitte_," but not yet at this period "tibe," "tebi." He lacks still
the motor co-ordination of words.
At this period the gesture-language and modulation of voice of the child
are generally easy to understand, as in case of pure ataxic aphasia (the
verbal asemia or asymbolia of Finkelnburg) are the looks and gestures
of aphasic adults. Chiefly _n_, _f_, and M are as yet imperfectly
developed.
_Central Stammering and Lisping (Literal Dysarthria)._--Children just
beginning to form sentences stammer, not uttering the sounds correctly.
They also, as a rule, lisp for a considerable time, so that the words
spoken by them are still indistinct and are intelligible only to the
persons most intimately associated with them.
The paths _d_ and _i_, and consequently the centro-motorium M, come
chiefly into consideration here; but L also is concerned, so far as from
it comes the motor impulse to make a sound audible through M.
The babbling of the infant is not to be confounded with this. That
imports merely the unintentional production of single disconnected
articulate sounds with non-coördinated movements of the tongue on
account of uncontrolled excitement of the nerves of the tongue.
_Stuttering (Syllabic Dysarthria)._--Stutterers articulate each separate
sound correctly, but connect the consonants, especially the explosive
sounds, with the succeeding vowels badly, with effort as if an obstacle
were to be overcome. The paths _i_ and _l_ are affected, and hence M is
not properly excited. S, too, comes under consideration in the case of
stuttering, so far as impulses go out from it for the pronunciation of
the syllables.
Children who can not yet speak of themselves but can repeat what is said
for them, exert themselves unnecessarily, making a strong expiratory
effort (with the help of abdominal pressure) to repeat a syllable still
unfamiliar, and they pause between the doubled or tripled consonant and
vowel. This peculiarity, which soon passes away and is to be traced
often to the lack of practice and to embarrassment (in case of threats),
and which may be observed _occasionally_ in every child, is stuttering
proper, although it appears more seldom than in stutterers. Example: The
child of two years is to say "Tischdecke," and he begins with an
unnecessary expiratory effort, _T-t-itt-t_, and does not finish.
Stuttering is by no means a physiological transition-stage through which
every child learning to speak must necessarily pass. But it is easily
acquired, in learning to speak, by imitation of stutterers, in frequent
intercourse with them. Hence, stutterers have sometimes stuttering
children.
_[beta]. Stumbling at Syllables._--Children that already articulate
correctly separate sounds, and do so intentionally, very often put
together syllables out of the sounds incorrectly, and frame words
incorrectly from the syllables, where we can not assume deficient
development of the external organs of speech; this is solely because the
co-ordination is still imperfect. The child accordingly says _beti_
before he can say _bitte_; so too _grefessen_ instead of _gefressen_.
The tracts _l_ and _n_ are still incompletely developed; also S and W,
so far as impulses come thence to utter syllables by means of M.
_b. Paraphasia._--Children have learned some expressions in their future
language, and use them independently but wrongly; they put in the place
of the appropriate word an incorrect one, confounding words because they
can _not yet_ correctly combine their ideas with the word-images. They
say, e. g., _Kind_ instead of "Kinn," and _Sand_ instead of "Salz"; also
_Netz_ for "Nest" and _Billard_ for "Billet," _Matrone_ for "Patrone."
The connection of D with M through _n_ is still imperfect, and perhaps
also M is not sufficiently developed.
_Making Mistakes in Speaking (Skoliophasia)._--In this kind of
paraphasia in adults the cause is a lack of attention; therefore purely
central concentration is wanting, or one fails to "collect himself";
there is distraction, hence the unintentional, frequently unconscious,
confounding of words similar in sound or connected merely by remote,
often dim, reminiscences. This kind of mis-speaking through carelessness
is distinguished from skoliophrasia (see below) by the fact that there
is no disturbance of the intelligence, and the correction easily
follows.
Skoliophasia occurs regularly with children in the second and third
years (and later). The child in general has not yet the ability to
concentrate his attention upon that which is to be spoken. He _wills_ to
do it but _can_ not yet. Hence, even in spite of the greatest effort,
occur often erroneous repetitions of words pronounced for him (aside
from difficulties of articulation, and also when these are wanting);
hence confounding (of words), wrong forms of address, e. g., _Mama_ or
_Helene_ instead of "Papa," and _Papa_ instead of "Marie."
_c. Taciturnity (Dumbness)._--Individual human beings of sound physical
condition who can speak very well are dumb, or speak only two or three
words in all for several years, because they no longer _will_ to speak
(e. g., in the belief that silence prevents them from doing wrong).
This taciturnity is not to be confounded with the paranoic aphrasia in
certain insane persons--e. g., in catatonia, where the will is
paralyzed.
It also occurs--seldom, however--that children who have already learned
to speak pretty well are dumb, or speak only a few words--among these
the word _no_--during several months, or speak only with certain
persons, because they _will not_ speak (out of obstinacy, or
embarrassment). Here an organic obstacle in the motor speech-center is
probable. For voluntary dumbness requires great strength of will, which
is hardly to be attributed to the child. The unwillingness to speak that
is prompted by _fun_ never lasts long.
C. THE EXPRESSIVE PERIPHERAL PROCESSES DISTURBED.
(1) Dyslalia and Alalia (Peripheral Dysarthria and Anarthria).
The infant can _not yet_ articulate correctly, or at all, on account of
the still deficient development, and afterward the lack of control, of
the nerves of speech and the external organs of speech. The complete
inability to articulate is called alalia. The newly born is alalic.
Dyslalia continues with many children a long time even after the
learning of the mother-tongue. This is always a case simply of
imperfections in _h_ and _z_.
_a. Bulbo-nuclear Stammering (Literal Bulbo-nuclear Dysarthria and
Anarthria)._--Patients who have lost control over the muscles of speech
through bulbo-nuclear paralysis, stammer before they become speechless,
and along with paralysis and atrophy of the tongue occur regularly
fibrillar contractions of the muscles of the tongue. The tongue is _no
longer_ regulated by the will.
The child that has not yet gained control over his vocal muscles
stammers before he can speak correctly, and, according to my
observations, regularly shows fibrillar contractions of the muscles of
the tongue along with an extraordinary mobility of the tongue. The
tongue is _not yet_ regulated by the will. Its movements are aimless.
_b. Mogilalia._--Children, on account of the as yet deficient control of
the external organs of speech, especially of the tongue, can _not yet_
form some sounds, and therefore omit them. They say, e. g., _in_ for
"hin," _ätz_ for "Herz," _eitun_ for "Zeitung," _ere_ for "Schere."
_Gammacism._--Children find difficulties in the voluntary utterance of K
and Ks (_x_), and indeed of G, and therefore often omit these sounds
without substituting others; they say, e. g., _atsen_ for "Klatschen,"
_atten_ for "Garten," _asse_ for "Gasse," _all_ for "Karl," _ete_ for
"Grete" (in the second year), _wesen_ for "gewesen," _opf_ for "Kopf."
_Sigmatism._--All children are late in learning to pronounce correctly
S, and generally still later with Sch, and therefore omit both, or in a
lisping fashion put S in place of Sch; more rarely Sch in place of S.
They say, e. g., _saf._ in place of "Schaf," _int_ for "singt," _anz_
for "Salz," _lafen_ and _slafen_ for "schlafen," _iss_ for "Hirsch,"
_pitte_ for "Splitter," _tul_ for "Stuhl," _wein_ for "Schwein,"
_Tuttav_ for "Gustav," _torch_ for "Storch" (second year), _emele_ for
"Schemel," _webenau_ for "Fledermaus," but also _Kusch_ for "Kuss." But
in no case have I myself heard a child regularly put "sch" in place of
_s_, as _Joschef_ for "Josef." This form, perhaps, occurs in Jewish
families; but I have no further observations concerning it as yet.
_Rhotacism._--Many children do not form R at all for a long time and put
nothing in place of it. They say _duch_ for "durch," _bot_ for "Brot,"
_unte_ for "herunter," _tautech_ for "traurig," _ule_ for "Ruhe,"
_tänen_ for "Thränen," _ukka_ for "Zucker." On the contrary, some form
early the R lingual, guttural, and labial, but all confound now and then
the first two with each other.
_Lambdacism._--Many children are late in learning to utter L, and often
omit it. They say, e. g., _icht_ for "Licht," _voge_ for "Vogel,"
_atenne_ for "Laterne," _batn_ for "Blatt," _mante_ for "Mantel."
(2) Literal Pararthria or Paralalia.
Children who are beginning to repeat intentionally what is said, often
put another sound in place of the well-known correct (no doubt intended)
one; this on account of deficient control of the tongue or other
peripheral organs of speech. E. g., they say _t_ in place of _p_, or _b_
for _w_ (_basse_ for "Wasser" and for "Flasche"), _e_ for _i_ and _o_
for _u_, as in _bete_ for "bitte," and _Ohr_ for "Uhr."
_Paragammacism._--Children supply the place of the insuperably difficult
sounds G, K, X by others, especially D and T, also N, saying, e. g.,
_itte_ for "Rike," _finne_ for "Finger," _tein_ for "Klein," _toss_ for
"gross," _atitte_ for "Karnickel," _otute_ for "Kuk," _attall_ for
"Axel," _wodal_ for "Vogel," _tut_ for "gut," _tatze_ for "Katze."
_Parasigmatism._--Children are late in learning to utter S and Sch
correctly. They often supply the place of them, before acquiring them,
by other sounds, saying, e. g., _tule_ for "Schule," _ade_ for "Hase,"
_webbe_ for "Wasser," _beb_ for "bös," _bebe_ for "Besen," _gigod_ for
"Schildkröte," _baubee_ for "Schwalbe."
_Pararhotacism._--Most children, if not all, even when they have very
early formed R correctly (involuntarily), introduce other sounds in
place of it in speaking--e. g., they say _moigjen_ for "morgen," _matta_
for "Martha," _annold_ for "Arnold," _jeiben_ for "reiben," _amum_ for
"warum," _welfen_ for "werfen."
_Paralambdacism._--Many children who do not learn until late to utter L
put in its place other sounds; saying, e. g., _bind_ for "Bild," _bampe_
for "Lampe," _tinne_ for "stille," _degen_ for "legen," _wewe_ for
"Löwe," _ewebau_ for "Elephant."
(3) Bradylalia or Bradyarthria.
Children reciting for the first time something learned by heart
speak not always indistinctly, but, on account of the incomplete
practicability of the motor-paths, slowly, monotonously, without
modulation. Sounds and syllables do _not yet_ follow one another
quickly, although they are already formed correctly. The syllables
belonging to a word are often separated by pauses like the words
themselves--a sort of dysphasia-of-conduction on account of the more
difficult and prolonged conduction of the motor-impulse. I knew a boy
(feeble-minded, to be sure) who took from three to eight seconds for
answering even the simplest question; then came a regular explosion of
utterance. Yet he did not stutter or stammer. When he had only _yes_ or
_no_ to answer, the interval between question and answer was shorter.
Here belong in part also the imperfections of speech that are occasioned
by too large a tongue (macroglossia). When a child is born with too
large a tongue, he may remain long alalic, without the loss of
intellectual development, as was observed to be the case by Paster and
O. von Heusinger (1882).
II. DYSPHRASIA (DYSLOGICAL DISTURBANCES OF SPEECH).
The child that can already speak pretty correctly deforms his speech
after the manner of insane persons, being moved by strange caprices,
because his understanding is not yet sufficiently developed.
_Logorrhoea_ (_Loquaciousness_).--It is a regular occurrence with
children that their pleasure in articulation and in vocal sound often
induces them to hold long monologues, sometimes in articulate sounds and
syllables, sometimes not. This chattering is kept up till the grown
people present are weary, and that by children who can not yet talk; and
their screaming is often interrupted only by hoarseness, just as in the
case of the polyphrasia of the insane.
_Dysphrasia of the Melancholy._--Children exert themselves perceptibly
in their first attempts to speak, answer indolently or not at all, or
frequently with embarrassment, always slowly, often with drawl and
monotone, very frequently coming to a stop. They also sometimes begin to
speak, and then lose at once the inclination to go on.
_Dysphrasia of the Delirious_ (_Wahnsinnigen_).--Children that have begun
to speak often make new words for themselves. They have already invented
signs before this; they are also unintelligible often-times because they
use the words they have learned in a different sense.
_Dysphrasia of the Insane_ (_Verrückten_).--The child is not yet
prepared to speak. He possesses only non-co-ordinated sounds and
isolated rudiments of words, primitive syllables, roots, as the
primitive raw material of the future speech.
In many insane persons only the disconnected remains or ruins of their
stock of words are left, so that their speech resembles that of the
child at a certain stage.
_Dysphrasia of the Feeble-minded._--The child at first reacts only upon
strong impressions, and that often indolently and clumsily and with
outcry; later, upon impressions of ordinary strength, without
understanding--laughing, crowing, uttering disconnected syllables.
So the patient reacts either upon strong impressions only, and that
indolently, bluntly, with gestures that express little and with rude
words, or he still reacts upon impressions of ordinary strength, but in
flat, silly, disconnected utterances.
_Dysphrasia of Idiots._--Children have command at the beginning of no
articulate sounds; then they learn these and syllables; after this also
words of one syllable; then they speak short words of more than one
syllable and sentences, but frequently babble forth words they have
heard without understanding their meaning, like parrots.
Imbeciles also frequently command only short words and sentences or
monosyllabic words and sounds, or, finally, they lack all articulate
sound. Many microcephalous idiots babble words without understanding
their meaning, like little children.
_Echo-speech or Echolalia_ (_Imitative Reflex Speech_).--Children not
yet able to frame a sentence correctly like to repeat the last word of a
sentence they have heard; and this, according to my observations and
researches, is so general that I am forced to call this echolalia a
physiological transition stage. Of long words said to them, the children
usually repeat only the last two syllables or the last syllable only.
The feeble-minded also repeat monotonously the words and sentences said
by a person in their neighborhood without showing an awakened attention,
and in general without connecting any idea with what they say.
(Romberg.)
_Interjectional Speech._--Children sometimes have a fancy for speaking
in interjections. They express vague ideas by single vowels (like _ä_),
syllables (e. g., _na_, _da_), and combinations of syllables, and
frequently call out aloud through the house meaningless sounds and
syllables. D and W are as yet undeveloped.
Often, too, children imitate the interjections used by members of the
family--_hop!_ _patsch_, _bauz!_ an interjectional echolalia. Many
deranged persons express their feelings in like manner, in sounds,
especially vowels, syllables, or sound-combinations resembling words,
which are void of meaning or are associated merely with obscure ideas
(Martini). Then D is connected with M only through L and S, and so
through _i_ and _e_.
_Embolophrasia._--Many children, long after they have overcome
acataphasia and agrammatism, delight in inserting between words sounds,
syllables, and words that do not belong there; e. g., they double the
last syllable of every word and put an _eff_ to it: _ich-ich-eff_, _bin
in-eff_, etc., or they make a kind of bleat between the words
(Kussmaul); and, in telling a story, put extra syllables into their
utterance while they are thinking.
Many adults likewise have the disagreeable habit of introducing certain
words or meaningless syllables into their speech, where these do not at
all belong; or they tack on diminutive endings to their words. The
syllables are often mere sounds, like _eh_, _uh_; in many cases they
sound like _eng_, _ang_ (angophrasia--Kussmaul).
_Palimphrasia._--Insane persons often repeat single sounds, syllables,
or sentences, over and over without meaning; e. g., "I am-am-am-am."
"The phenomenon in many cases reminds us of children, who say or sing
some word or phrase, a rhyme or little verse, so long continuously, like
automata, that the by-standers can endure it no longer. It is often the
ring of the words, often the sense, often both, by which the children
are impressed. The child repeats them because they seem to him strange
or very sonorous." (Kussmaul.)
_Bradyphrasia._--The speech of people that are sad or sleepy, and of
others whose mental processes are indolent, often drags along with
tedious slowness; is also liable to be broken off abruptly. The speaker
comes to a standstill. This is not to be confounded with bradyphasia or
with bradyarthria or bradylalia (see above).
In children likewise the forming of the sentence takes a long time on
account of the as yet slow rise and combination of ideas, and a simple
narrative is only slowly completed or not finished at all, because the
intellectual processes in the brain are too fatiguing.
_Paraphrasia._--Under the same circumstances as in the case of
bradyphrasia the (slow) speech may be marred and may become
unintelligible because the train of thought is confused--e. g., in
persons "drunk" with sleep--so that words are uttered that do not
correspond to the original ideas.
In the case of children who want to tell something, and who begin right,
the story may be interrupted easily by a recollection, a fresh train of
thought, and still they go on; e. g., they mix up two fairy tales,
attaching to the beginning of one the end of another.
_Skoliophrasia._--Distracted and timid feeble-minded persons easily make
mistakes in speaking, because they can not direct their attention to
what they are saying and to the way in which they are saying it, but
they wander, allowing themselves to be turned aside from the thing to be
said by all sorts of ideas and external impressions; and, moreover, they
do not notice afterward that they have been making mistakes (cf. p. 53).
Children frequently put a wrong word in place of a right one well known
to them, without noticing it. They allow themselves to be turned aside
very easily from the main point by external impressions and all sorts of
fancies, and often, in fact, say the opposite of what they mean without
noticing it.
III. DYSMIMIA.
Disturbances of Gesture-Language (Pantomime).
_Perceptive Asemia._--Patients have lost the ability to _understand_
looks and gestures (Steinthal).
Children can not yet understand the looks and gestures of persons about
them.
_Amnesic Amimia._--Aphasic persons can sometimes imitate gestures, but
can not execute them when bid, but only when the gestures are made for
them to imitate. Children that do not yet speak can imitate gestures if
these are made for them to see, but it is often a long time before they
can make them at the word of command.
_Ataxic Dysmimia and Amimia_ (_Mimetic Asemia_).--Patients can _no
longer_ execute significative looks and gestures, on account of
defective co-ordination.
Children can not express their states of desire, etc., because they do
_not yet_ control the requisite co-ordination for the corresponding
looks and gestures.
_Paramimia_ (_Paramimetic Asemia_).--Many patients can make use of looks
and gestures, but confound them.
Children have not yet firmly impressed upon them the significance of
looks and gestures; this is shown in their interchanging of these; e. g.,
the head is shaken in the way of denial when they are affirming
something.
_Emotive Language_ (_Affectsprache_) _in Aphrasia._--In Aphrasia it
happens that smiling, laughing, and weeping are _no longer_ controlled,
and that they break out on the least occasion with the greatest
violence, like the spinal reflexes in decapitated animals.
(Hughlings-Jackson.)
Emotive language may continue when the language of ideas
(Begriffssprache) is completely extinguished, and idiotic children
without speech can even sing.
In children, far slighter occasions suffice normally to call forth
smiles, laughter, and tears, than in adults. These emotional utterances
are _not yet_ often voluntarily inhibited by the child that can not yet
speak; on the contrary, they are unnecessarily repeated.
_Apraxia._--Many patients are _no longer_ in condition, on account of
disturbed intellect, to make right use of ordinary objects, the use of
which they knew well formerly; e. g., they can no longer find the way to
the mouth; or they bite into the soap.
Children are _not yet_ in condition, on account of deficient practice,
to use the common utensils rightly; e. g., they will eat soup with a
fork, and will put the fork against the cheek instead of into the mouth.
4. Development of Speech in the Child.
We may now take up the main question as to the condition of the
child that is learning to speak, in regard to the development and
practicability of the nerve-paths and of the centers required for
speech. For the comparison of the disturbances of speech in adults
with the deficiencies of speech in the child, on the one hand, and
the chronological observation of the child, on the other hand,
disclose to us what parts of the apparatus of speech come by
degrees into operation. First to be considered are the _impressive_
and _expressive_ paths in general.
All new-born human beings are deaf or hard of hearing, as has already
been demonstrated. Since the hearing but slowly grows more acute during
the first days, no utterances of sound at this period can be regarded as
responses to any sound-impressions whatever. The first cry is purely
reflexive, like the croaking of the decapitated frog when the skin of
his back is stroked (Vol. I, p. 214). The cry is not heard by the
newly-born himself and has not the least value as language. It is on a
par with the squeaking of the pig just born, the bleating of the
new-born lamb, and the peeping of the chick that is breaking its shell.
Upon this first, short season of physiological deaf-mutism follows the
period during which crying expresses bodily conditions, feelings such as
pain, hunger, cold. Here, again, there exists as yet no connection of
the expressive phenomena with acoustic impressions, but there is already
the employment of the voice with stronger expiration in case of strong
and disagreeable excitations of other sensory nerves than those of
general sensation and of the skin. For the child now cries at a dazzling
light also, and at a bitter taste, as if the unpleasant feeling were
diminished by the strong motor discharge. In any case the child cries
because this loud, augmented expiration lessens for him the previously
existing unpleasant feelings, without exactly inducing thereby a
comfortable condition.
Not until later does a sudden sound-impression, which at first called
forth only a start and then a quivering of the eyelids, cause also
crying. But this loud sign of fright may be purely reflexive, just like
the silent starting and throwing up of the arms at a sudden noise, and
has at most the significance of an expression of discomfort, like
screaming at a painful blow.
It is otherwise with the first loud response to an acoustic impression
_recognized_ as new. The indefinable sounds of satisfaction made by the
child that hears music for the first time are no longer reflexive, and
are not symptoms of displeasure. I see in this reaction, which may be
compared with the howling of the dog that for the first time in his life
hears music--I see in this reaction of the apparatus of voice and of
future speech, _the first sign of the connection now just established
between impressive_ (acoustic) and _expressive_ (having the character of
emotive language) _paths_. The impressive, separately, were long since
open, as the children under observation after the first week allowed
themselves to be quieted by the singing of cradle-songs, and the
expressive, separately, must likewise have been open, since various
conditions were announced by various sorts of crying.
Everything now depends on a well-established _intercentral
communication_ between the two. This is next to be discussed.
The primitive connection is already an advance upon that of a reflex
arc. The sound-excitations arriving from the ear at the central endings
of the auditory nerve are not directly transformed into motor
excitations for the laryngeal nerves, so that the glottis contracts to
utter vocal sound. When the child (as early as the sixth to the eighth
week) takes pleasure in music and laughs aloud, his voice can not in
this case (as at birth) have been educed by reflex action, for without a
cerebrum he would not laugh or utter joyous sounds, whereas even without
that he cries.
From this, however, by no means follows the existence of a speech-center
in the infant. The fact that he produces sounds easily articulated,
although without choice, like _tahu_ and _amma_, proves merely the
functional capacity of the peripheral apparatus of articulation (in the
seventh week) at a period long before it is intentionally used for
articulation. The unintentionally uttered syllables that make their
appearance are, to be sure, simple, at least in the first half-year. It
is vowels almost exclusively that appear in the first month, and these
predominate for a long time yet. Of the consonants in the third month
_m_ alone is generally to be noted as frequent. This letter comes at a
later period also, from the raising and dropping of the lower jaw in
expiration, an operation that is besides soon easy for the infant with
less outlay of will than the letter _b_, which necessitates a firmer
closing of the lips.
But in spite of the simplicity of all the vocal utterances and of the
defectiveness of the articulatory apparatus, the child is able (often
long before the seventh month) to respond to address, questions,
chiding, either with inarticulate sounds or with vowels or by means of
simple syllables, like _pa_, _ta_, _ma_, _na_, _da_, _mä_, _mö_, _gö_,
_rö_ [_a_ as in _father_; ä as in _fate_; ö like _i_ in _bird_.] Since
these responses are entirely, or almost entirely, lacking in
microcephali and in children born deaf, they are not purely reflexive,
like sneezing, e. g.; therefore there must be in the case of these a
cerebral operation also, simple indeed, but indubitably intellectual,
interposed between sound-perception and vocal utterance, especially as
the infant behaves differently according to what he hears, and he
discriminates very well the stern command from the caress, forbidding
from allowing, in the voice of the person speaking to him. Yet it is
much more the _timbre_, the accent, the pitch, the intensity of the
voice and the sounds, the variation of which excites attention, than it
is the spoken word. In the first half-year the child hears the vowels
much better than he does the consonants, and will imperfectly
understand or divine the sense of a few sounds only--e. g., when his
name is uttered in a threatening tone he will hear merely the accented
vowel, for at the first performance taught him, purposely postponed to a
very late period (in his thirteenth month), it made no difference to my
child whether we asked without changing a feature, "Wie gross?" (how
tall?) or "ooss?" or "oo?" In all three cases he answered with the same
movement of the hand.
Now, although all infants in normal condition, before they can repeat
anything after others or can understand any word whatever, _express_
their feelings by various sounds, even by syllables, and _distinguish_
vowels and many consonants in the words spoken to them, yet this does
not raise them above the intelligent animal. The response to friendly
address and loud chiding by appropriate sounds is scarcely to be
distinguished as to its psychical value from the joyous barking and
whining of the poodle.
The pointer-dog's understanding of the few spoken utterances that are
impressed upon him in his training is also quite as certain at least
as the babe's understanding of the jargon of the nurse. The correctly
executed movements or arrests of movement following the
sound-impressions "Setz dich! Pfui! Zurück! Vorwärts! Allez! Fass!
Apporte! Such! Verloren! Pst! Lass! Hierher! Brav! Leid's nicht!
Ruhig! Wahr Dich! Hab Acht! Was ist das! Pfui Vogel! Pfui Hase! Halt!"
prove that the bird-dog understands the meaning of the sounds and
syllables and words heard as far as he needs to understand them. The
training in the English language accomplishes the same result with
"Down! Down charge! Steady! Toho! Fetch! Hold up!" as the training in
the French language, with yet other words--so that we can by no means
assume any hereditary connection whatever between the quality of the
sound heard and the movement or arrest of movement to be executed,
such as may perhaps exist in the case of the chick just hatched which
follows the clucking of the hen. Rather does the dog learn afresh in
every case the meaning of the words required for hunting, just as the
speechless child comprehends the meaning of the first words of its
future language without being able to repeat them himself--e. g.,
"Give! Come! Hand! Sh! Quiet!" Long before the child's mechanism of
articulation is so far developed that these expressions can be
produced by him, the child manifests his understanding of them
unequivocally by corresponding movements, by gestures and looks, by
obedience.
No doubt this behavior varies in individual cases, inasmuch as in some
few the imitative articulation may be to some extent earlier developed
than the understanding. There are many children who even in their first
year have a monkey-like knack at imitation and repeat all sorts of
things like parrots without guessing the sense of them. Here, however,
it is to be borne in mind that such an echo-speech appears only after
the _first_ understanding of some spoken word can be demonstrated; in no
case before the fourth month. Lindner relates that when he one day
observed that his child of eighteen weeks was gazing at the swinging
pendulum of the house-clock, he went with him to it, saying,
"Tick-tack," in time with the pendulum; and when he afterward called
out to the child, who was no longer looking at the clock, "Tick-tack!"
this call was answered, at first with delay, a little later immediately,
by a turning of the look toward the clock. This proved that there was
understanding long before the first imitation of words. Progress now
became pretty rapid, so that at the end of the seventh month the
questions, "Where is your eye? ear? head? mouth? nose? the table? chair?
sofa?" were answered correctly by movements of hand and eyes. In the
tenth month this child for the first time himself used a word as a means
of effecting an understanding, viz., _mama_ (soon afterward, indeed, he
called both parents _papa_). The child's inability to repeat distinctly
syllables spoken for him is not to be attributed, shortly before the
time at which he succeeds in doing it, to a purely psychical adynamy
(impotence), not, as many suppose, to "being stupid," or to a weakness
of will without organic imperfections determined by the cerebral
development, for the efforts, the attention, and the ability to repeat
incorrectly, show that the will is not wanting. Since also the
peripheral impressive acoustic and expressive phonetic paths are intact
and developed, as is proved by the acuteness of the hearing and the
spontaneous formation of the very syllables desired, the cause of the
inability to repeat correctly must be solely organic-centro-motor. The
connecting paths between the sound-center and the syllable-center, and
of both these with the speech motorium, are not yet or not easily
passable; but the imitation of a single sound, be it only _a_, can not
take place without the mediation of the cerebral cortex. Thus in the
very first attempt to repeat something heard there exists an
unquestionable advance in brain development; and the first successful
attempt of this kind proves not merely the augmented functional ability
of the articulatory apparatus and of the sound-center, and the
practicability of the impressive paths that lead from the ear to the
sound-center--it proves, above all, the establishment of intercentral
routes that lead from the sound-center and the syllable-center to the
motorium.
In fact, the correct _repeating_ of a sound heard, of a syllable, and,
finally, of a word pronounced by another person, is the surest proof of
the establishment and practicability of the entire impressive, central,
and expressive path. It, however, proves nothing as to the
_understanding_ of the sound or word heard and faultlessly repeated.
As the term "understanding" or "understand" is ambiguous, in so far
as it may relate to the ideal content (the meaning), and at the same
time to the mere perception of the word spoken (or written or
touched)--e. g., when any one speaks indistinctly so that we do not
"understand" him--it is advisable to restrict the use of this
expression. _Understand_ shall in future apply only to the _meaning_
of the word; _hear_--since it is simply the perceiving of a word
through the hearing that we have in view--will relate to the sensuous
impression. It is clear, then, that all children who can hear but can
not yet speak, repeat many words without understanding them, and
understand many words without being able to repeat them, as Kussmaul
has already observed. But I must add that the repeating of what is
not understood begins only after some word (even one that can not be
repeated) has been understood.
Now it is certain that the majority, if not all, of the children
that have good hearing develop the understanding more at first,
since the impressive side is practiced more and sooner than the
expressive-articulatory. Probably those that imitate early and
skillfully are the children that can speak earliest, and whose
cerebrum grows fastest but also soonest ceases to grow; whereas those
that imitate later and more sparingly, generally learn to speak later,
and will generally be the more intelligent. For with the higher sort
of activity goes the greater growth of brain. While the other children
cultivate more the centro-motor portion, the sensory, the
intellectual, is neglected. In animals, likewise, a brief, rapid
development of the brain is wont to go along with inferior
intelligence. The intelligence gets a better development when the
child, instead of repeating all sorts of things without any meaning,
tries to guess the meaning of what he hears. Precisely the epoch at
which this takes place belongs to the most interesting in intellectual
development. Like a pantomimist, the child, by means of his looks and
gestures, and further by cries and by movements of all sorts, gives
abundant evidence of his understanding and his desires, without
himself speaking a single word. As the adult, after having half
learned a foreign language from books, can not speak (imitate) it, and
can not easily understand it when he hears it spoken fluently by one
that is a perfect master of it, but yet makes out _single_ expressions
and understands them, and divines the meaning of the whole, so the
child at this stage can distinctly hear single words, can grasp the
purport of them, and divine correctly a whole sentence from the looks
and gestures of the speaker, although the child himself makes audible
no articulate utterance except his own, for the most part meaningless,
variable babble of sounds and syllables and outcries.
The causes of the slowness of the progress in expressing in articulate
words what is understood and desired, on the part of normal children, is
not, however, to be attributed, as it has often been, to a slower
development of the expressive motor mechanism, but must be looked for in
the difficulty of establishing the connection of the various central
storehouses of sense-impressions with the intercentral path of
connection between the acoustic speech-centers and the speech-motorium.
For the purely peripheral articulatory acts are long since perfect,
although as yet a simple "_a_" or "_pa_" can not be repeated after
another person; for these and other sounds and syllables are already
uttered correctly by the child himself.
The order of succession in which these separate sounds appear, without
instruction, is very different in individual cases. With my boy, who
learned to speak rather late, and was not occupied with learning by
heart, the following was the order of the perfectly pure sounds heard by
me:
On the left are the sounds or syllables indicated by one letter; on the
right, the same indicated by more than one letter; and it is to be borne
in mind that the child needs to pronounce only fourteen of the nineteen
so-called consonants of the German alphabet in order to master the
remaining five also; for
c = ts and k
v = f and w
x = ks and gs
q = ku and kw
z = ts and ds
and of the fourteen four require no new articulation, because
p is a toneless b
t is a toneless d
f is a toneless w
k is a toneless g
Of the ten positions of the mouth required for all the consonants of the
alphabet, nine are taken by the child within the first six months:*
Months.
1. Indefinite
vowels; ä u, uä.
2. a, ö, o; m,
g, r, t; h, am, ma, ta, hu, ör, rö, ar, ra, gö.
3. i; b, l, n, ua, oa, ao, ai, [(ei], oä, äo, äa, äö; öm, in, ab,
om; la, ho, mö, nä, na, ha, bu; ng, mb, gr.
4. e, [(äu], a-u, aö, ea; an; na, tö, la, me; nt.
5. ü (y); k, ag, eg, ek, ge, kö.
6. j; the oi ([(eu], [(äu]), io, öe, eu (French); ij, aj,
lingual-labial ög, ich; ja, jä; rg, br, ch.
sound,
7. d, p, äe, ui; mä.
8. eö, aë, ou, [(au]; up; hö, mi, te.
9. ap, ach, äm; pa, ga, cha.
10. el, ab, at, ät; dä, ba, ta, tä; nd.
11. ad, al, ak, er, ej, öd; da, gä, bä, ka, ke, je,
he, ne; pr, tr.
12. w, än, op, ew, är; de, wä; nj, ld.
13. s (ss), en; hi; dn.
14. mu; kn, gn, kt.
15. z, oö, öa, is, iss, es, ass, th (English),
ith (Engl.), it; hä, di, wa, sse.
16. f (v), ok, on; do, go; bw, fp.
17. ib, öt, an; bi.
18. äi, iä; äp, im; tu, pä; ft.
19. ön, et, es; sa, be; st, tth (Engl.), s-ch, sj.
20. ub, ot, id, od, oj, uf, ät; bo, ro, jo; dj,
dth (Engl.).
21. öp; fe; rl, dl, nk, pt.
22. ol; lo; ps, pt, tl, sch, tsch, pth (Engl.).
23. q, uo; id, op, um, em, us, un, ow, ed, uk, ig, il;
jö, ju, po, mo, wo, fa, fo, fi, we, ku (qu),
li, ti; tn, pf, gch, gj, tj, schg.
24. ut, esch; pu, wi, schi, pi.
25. oë, ul, il, och, iw, ip, ur; lt, rb, rt.
26. nl, ds, mp, rm, fl, kl, nch, ml, dr.
27. x, kch, cht, lch, ls, sw, sl.
_____________________________________________________________________
* Pronounce the letters in the tabular view as in German.
Every such chronological view of the sequence of sounds is uncertain,
because we can not observe the child uninterruptedly, and hence the
first appearance of a new sound easily escapes notice. The above
synopsis has a chronological value only so far as this, that it
announces, concerning every single sound, that such sound was heard in
its purity by me at least as early as the given month. The sound may,
however, have been uttered considerably earlier without my hearing it. I
know from personal experience that in other children many sounds appear
much earlier; in my child, e. g., _ngä_ was observed too late, and I
have no doubt that the first utterance of _f_ and _w_ was unobserved,
although I was on the lookout for them. When it is maintained, on the
contrary, that _m_ is not heard from a normal child until the tenth
month, then the _am_ and _mö_ which appear universally in the first
half-year have escaped notice. Earlier tabular views of this sort, which
have even served as a foundation for instruction of deaf-mutes in
speaking, do not rest exclusively on observation. Besides, in this
matter, even two children hardly agree. According to my observations, I
am compelled in spite of this disagreement to lay down the proposition
as valid for all healthy children, that the greatly _preponderating
majority of the sounds the child makes use of after learning verbal
language, and many other sounds besides these, are correctly formed by
him within the first eight months_, not intentionally, but just as much
at random as any other utterance of sound not to be used later in
speech, not appearing in any civilized language. I will only mention as
an example the labio-lingual explosive sound, in which the tip of the
tongue comes between the lips and, with an expiration, bursting from its
confinement is drawn back swiftly (with or without tone). All children
seem to like to form this sound, a sound between _p_, _b_, and _t_, _d_;
but it exists in few languages.
Among the innumerable superfluous, unintentional, random, muscular
movements of the infant, the movements of the muscles of the larynx,
mouth, and tongue take a conspicuous place, because they ally
themselves readily with acoustic effects and the child takes delight
in them. It is not surprising, therefore, that precisely those
vibrations of the vocal cords, precisely those shapings of the cavity
of the mouth, and those positions of the lips, often occur which we
observe in the utterance of our vowels, and that among the
child-noises produced unconsciously and in play are found almost all
our consonants and, besides, many that are used in foreign languages.
The plasticity of the apparatus of speech in youth permits the
production of a greater abundance of sounds and sound-combinations
than is employed later, and not a single child has been observed who
has, in accordance with the principle of the least effort (_principe
du moindre effort_) applied by French authors to this province,
advanced in regular sequence from the sounds articulated easily--i. e.,
with less activity of will--to the physiologically difficult;
rather does it hold good for all the children I have observed, and
probably for all children that learn to speak, that many of the sounds
uttered by them at the beginning, in the speechless season of infancy,
without effort and then forgotten, have to be learned afresh at a
later period, have to be painstakingly acquired by means of imitation.
Mobility and perfection in the _technique_ of sound-formation are not
speech. They come into consideration in the process of learning to speak
as facilitating the process, because the muscles are perfected by
previous practice; but the very first attempts to imitate voluntarily a
sound heard show how slight this advantage is. Even those primitive
syllables which the child of himself often pronounces to weariness, like
_da_, he can not at the beginning (in the tenth month in my case) as yet
say after any one, although he makes manifest by his effort--a regular
strain--by his attention, and his unsuccessful attempts, that he would
like to say them, as I have already mentioned. The reason is to be
looked for in the still incomplete development of the sensori-motor
central paths. In place of _tatta_ is sounded _tä_ or _ata_; in place of
_papa_ even _taï_, and this not once only, but after a great many trials
repeated again and again with the utmost patience. That the sound-image
has been correctly apprehended is evident from the certainty with which
the child responds correctly in various cases by gestures to words of
similar sound unpronounceable by him. Thus, he points by mistake once
only to the mouth (Mund) instead of the moon (Mond), and points
correctly to the ear (Ohr) and the clock (Uhr) when asked where these
objects are. The acuteness of hearing indispensable for repeating the
sounds is therefore present before the ability to repeat.
On the whole, the infant or the young child already weaned must be
placed higher at this stage of his mental development than a very
intelligent animal, but not on account of his knowledge of language, for
the dog also understands very well single words in the speech of his
master, in addition to hunting-terms. He divines, from the master's
looks and gestures, the meaning of whole sentences, and, although he has
not been brought to the point of producing articulate sounds, yet much
superior in this respect is the performance of the cockatoo, which
learns all articulate sounds. A child who shows by looks and gestures
and actions that he understands single words, and who already pronounces
correctly many words by imitation without understanding them, does not
on this account stand higher intellectually than a sagaciously
calculating yet speechless elephant or an Arabian horse, but because he
already forms many more and far more complex concepts.
The animal phase of intellect lasts, in the sound, vigorous, and not
neglected child, to the end of the first year of life at the farthest;
and long before the close of this he has, by means of the _feelings_ of
pleasure and of discomfort, very definitely distinguishable by him even
in the first days of life, but for which he does not get the verbal
expressions till the second and third year, formed for himself at least
in one province, viz., that of food, _ideas_ more or less well defined.
Romanes also rightly remarks that the _concept_ of food arises in us
through the feeling of hunger quite independently of language. Probably
this concept is the very first that is formed by the quite young infant,
only he would not name it "food," if indeed he named it at all, but
would understand by it everything that puts an end to the feeling of
hunger. It is of great importance to hold firmly to this fact of the
origination of ideas, and that not of sensuous percepts only but of
concepts, without language, because it runs contrary to prevailing
assumptions.
He who has conscientiously observed the mental development of infants
must come to the conclusion that _the formation of ideas is not bound
up with the learning of words, but is a necessary prerequisite for
the understanding of the words to be learned first, and therefore for
learning to speak_. Long before the child understands even a single
word, before he uses a single syllable consistently with a definite
meaning, he already has a number of ideas which are expressed by
looks and gestures and cries. To these belong especially ideas gained
through touch and sight. Associations of objects touched and seen
with impressions of taste are probably the first generators of
concepts. The child, still speechless and toothless, takes a lively
interest in bottles; sees, e. g., a bottle that is filled with a
white opaque liquid (Goulard water), and he stretches out his arms
with desire toward it, screaming a long time, in the belief that it
is a milk-bottle (observed by me in the case of my child in the
thirty-first week). The bottle when empty or when filled with water
is not so long attractive to him, so that the idea of food (or of
something to drink, something to suck, something sweet) must arise
from the sight of a bottle with certain contents without the
understanding or even utterance of any words. The formation of
concepts without words is actually demonstrated by this; for the
speechless child not only perceived the points of identity of the
various bottles of wine, water, oil, the nursing-bottle and others,
the sight of which excited him, but he united in one notion the
contents of the different sorts of bottles when what was in them was
white--i. e., he had separated the concept of food from that of the
bottle. Ideas are thus independent of words.
Certain as this proposition is, it is not, however, supported by the
reasons given for it by Kussmaul, viz., that one and the same object
is variously expressed in various languages, and that a new animal or
a new machine is known before it is named; for no one desires to
maintain that certain ideas are _necessarily_ connected with certain
words, without the knowledge of which they could not arise--it is
maintained only that ideas do not exist without words. Now, any object
has some appellation in each language, were it only the appellation
"object," and a new animal, a new machine, is already called "animal,"
"machine," before it receives its special name. Hence from this
quarter the proof can not be derived. On the other hand, the
speechless infant certainly furnishes the proof, which is confirmed by
some observations on microcephalous persons several years old or of
adult age. The lack of the power of abstraction apparent in these
persons and in idiots is not so great that they have not developed the
notion "food" or "taking of food."
Indeed, it is not impossible that the formation of ideas may continue
after the total loss of word-memory, as in the remarkable and
much-talked-of case of Lordat. Yet this case does not by any means
prove that the formation of concepts of the _higher_ order is possible
without previous mastery of verbal language; rather is it certain that
concepts rising above the lowest abstractions can be formed only by
him who has thoroughly learned to speak: for intelligent children
without speech are acquainted, indeed, with more numerous and more
complex ideas than are very sagacious animals, but not with many more
abstractions of a higher sort, and where the vocabulary is small the
power of abstraction is wont to be as weak in adults as in children.
The latter, to be sure, acquire the words for the abstract with more
difficulty and later than those for the concrete, but have them
stamped more firmly on the mind (for, when the word-memory fails,
proper names and nouns denoting concrete objects are, as a rule, first
forgotten). But it would not be admissible, as I showed above, to
conclude from this that no abstraction at all takes place without
words. To me, indeed, it is probable that in the most intense thought
the most abstract conceptions are effected most rapidly without the
disturbing images of the sounds of words, and are only supplementarily
clothed in words. In any case the intelligent child forms many
concepts of a lower sort without any knowledge of words at all, and he
therefore performs abstraction without words.
When Sigismund showed to his son, not yet a year old and not able to
speak a word, a stuffed woodcock, and, pointing to it, said, "Bird,"
the child directly afterward looked toward another side of the room
where there stood upon the stove a stuffed white owl, represented as
in flight, which he must certainly have observed before. Here, then,
the concept had already arisen; but how little specialized are the
first concepts connected with words that do not relate to food is
shown by the fact that in the case of Lindner's child (in the tenth
month) _up_ signified also _down_, _warm_ signified also _cold_. Just
so my child used _too much_ also for _too little_; another child used
_no_ also for _yes_; a third used _I_ for _you_. If these by no means
isolated phenomena rest upon a lack of differentiation of the
concepts, "then the child already has a presentiment that opposites
are merely the extreme terms of the same series of conceptions"
(Lindner), and this before he can command more than a few words.
But to return to the condition of the normal child, as yet entirely
speechless. It is clear that, being filled with desire to give
expression in every way to his feelings, especially to his needs, he
will use his voice, too, for this purpose. The adult likewise cries
out with pain, although the "Oh!" has no direct connection with the
pain, and there is no intention of making, by means of the outcry,
communication to others. Now, before the newly-born is in condition to
seek that which excites pleasure, to avoid what excites displeasure,
he cries out in like fashion, partly without moving the tongue, partly
with the sound _ä_ dominant, repeated over and over monotonously till
some change of external conditions takes place. After this the manner
of crying begins to vary according to the condition of the infant;
then come sounds clearly distinguishable as indications of pleasure or
displeasure; then syllables, at first to some extent spontaneously
articulated without meaning, afterward such as express desire,
pleasure, etc.; not until much later imitated sounds, and often the
imperfect imitation of the voices of animals, of inorganic noises, and
of spoken words. The mutilation of his words makes it seem as if the
child were already inventing new designations which are soon
forgotten; and as the child, like the lunatic, uses familiar words in
a new sense after he has begun to learn to talk, his style of
expression gets an original character, that of "baby-talk." Here it is
characteristic that the feelings and ideas do not now first _arise_,
though they are now first articulately expressed; but they were in
part present long since and did not become articulate, but were
expressed by means of looks and gestures. In the adult ideas generate
new words, and the formation of new words does not cease so long as
thinking continues; but in the child without speech new feelings and
new ideas generate at first only new cries and movements of the
muscles of the face and limbs, and, the further we look back into
child-development proper, the greater do we find the number of the
conditions expressed by one and the same cry. The organism as yet has
too few means at its disposal. In many cases of aphasia every mental
state is expressed by one and the same word (often a word without
meaning). Upon closer examination it is found, however, that for the
orator also, who is complete master of speech, all the resources of
language are insufficient. No one, e. g., can name all the colors that
may be perceived, or describe pain, or describe even a cloud, so that
several hearers gain the same idea of its form that the speaker has.
The words come short, but the idea is clear. If words sufficed to
express clearly clear conceptions, then the greater part of our
philosophical and theological literature would not exist. This
literature has its basis essentially in the inevitable fact that
different persons do not associate the same concept with the same
word, and so one word is used to indicate different concepts (as is
the case with the child). If a concept is exceptionally difficult--i. e.,
exceptionally hard to express clearly in words--then it is wont to
receive many names, e. g., "die," and the confusion and strife are
increased; but words alone render it possible to form and to make
clear concepts of a higher sort. They favor the formation of new
ideas, and without them the intellect in man remains in a lower stage
of development just because they are the most trustworthy and the most
delicate means of expression for ideas. If ideas are not expressed at
all, or not intelligibly, their possessor can not use them, can not
correct or make them effective. Those ideas only are of value, as a
general thing, which continue to exist after being communicated to
others. Communication takes place with accuracy (among human beings)
only by means of words. It is therefore important to know how the
child learns to speak words, and then to use them.
I have above designated, as the chief difficulty for the child in the
formation of words, the establishment of a connection between the
central storehouse for sense-impressions--i. e., the sensory centers
of higher rank--with the intercentral path of connection between the
center-for-sounds and the speech-motorium. After the establishment of
these connections, and long after ideas have been formed, the
sound-image of the word spoken by the mother, when it emerges in the
center-for-sounds directly after the rise of a clear idea, is now
repeated by the child accurately, or, in case it offers insurmountable
difficulties of articulation for pronunciation, inaccurately. This
fact of _sound-imitation_ is fundamental. Beyond it we can not go.
Especially must be noted here as essential that it appears to be an
entirely indifferent matter what syllables and words are employed for
the first designation of the child's ideas. Were one disposed to
provide the child with false designations, he could easily do it. The
child would still connect them logically. If taught further on that
two times three are five, he would merely give the _name_ five to what
is six, and would soon adopt the usual form of expression. In making a
beginning of the association of ideas with articulate syllables, such
syllables are, as a rule, employed (probably in all languages) as have
already been often uttered by the child spontaneously without meaning,
because these offered no difficulties of articulation; but only the
child's family put meaning into them. Such syllables are _pa_, _ma_,
with their doubled form _papa_, _mama_, for "father" and "mother," in
connection with which it is to be observed that the meaning of them is
different in different languages and even in the dialects of a
language. For _mamán_, _mamá_, _máma_, _mamme_, _mammeli_, _mömme_,
_mam_, _mamma_, _mammeken_, _memme_, _memmeken_, _mamm[)e]l[)e]_,
_mammi_, are at the same time child-words and designations for
"mother" in various districts of Germany, whereas these and very
similar expressions signify also the mother's breast, milk, pap,
drink, nursing-bottle; nay, even in some languages the father is
designated by _Ma_-sounds, the mother by _Ba_-and _Pa_-sounds.
It is very much the same with other primitive syllables of the babe's
utterance, e. g., _atta_. Where this does not denote the parents or
grandparents it is frequently used (_táta_, _tatta_, _tatá_, also in
England and Germany) in the sense of "gone" ("fort") and "goodby."
These primitive syllables, _pa-pa_, _ma-ma_, _tata_ and _apa_, _ama_,
_ata_, originate of themselves when in the expiration of breath the
passage is stopped either by the lips (_p_, _m_) or by the tongue (_d_,
_t_); but after they have been already uttered many times with ease,
without meaning, at random, the mothers of all nations make use of them
to designate previously existing ideas of the child, and designate by
them what is most familiar. Hence occurs the apparent confounding of
"milk" and "breast" and "mother" and "(wet-) nurse" or "nurse" and
"bottle," all of which the child learns to call _mam_, _amma_, etc.
But just at this period appears a genuine echolalia, the child,
unobserved, repeating correctly and like a machine, often in a
whisper, all sorts of syllables, when he hears them at the end of a
sentence. The normal child, before he can speak, repeats sounds,
syllables, words, if they are short, "mechanically," without
understanding, as he imitates movements of the hands and the head that
are made in his sight. Speaking is a movement-making that invites
imitation the more because it can be strictly regulated by means of
the ear. Anything more than regulation is not at first given by the
sense of hearing, for those born deaf also learn to speak. They can
even, like normal children, speak quite early in dreams (according to
Gerard van Asch). Those born deaf, as well as normal children, when
one turns quietly toward them, often observe attentively the lips (and
also touch them sometimes) and the tongue of the person speaking; and
this visual image, even without an auditory image, provokes imitation,
which is made perfect by the combination of the two. This combination
is lacking in the child born blind, pure echolalia prevailing in this
case; in the one born deaf, the combination is likewise wanting, the
reading-off of the syllables from the mouth coming in as a substitute.
With the deaf infant the study of the mouth-movements is, as is well
known, the only means of understanding words spoken aloud, and it is
sight that serves almost exclusively for this, very rarely touch; and
the child born deaf often repeats the visible movements of lips and
tongue better than the hearing child that can not yet talk. It is to
be observed, in general, that the hearing child makes less use, on the
whole, of the means of reading-off from the mouth than we assume, but
depends chiefly on the ear. I have always found, too, that the child
has the greatest difficulty in imitating a position of the mouth, in
case the sound belonging to it is not made, whereas he easily achieves
the same position of the mouth when the acoustic effect goes along
with it.
Accordingly, the connection between the ear and the speech-center must
be shorter or more practicable in advance (hereditarily) than that
between the eye and the speech-center. With regard to both associations,
however, the gradually progressive shortening or consolidating is to be
distinguished in space and time. With the child that does not yet speak,
but is beginning to repeat syllables correctly and to associate them
with primitive ideas, the act of imitation takes longer than with the
normal adult, but the paths in the brain that he makes use of are
shorter, absolutely and relatively--absolutely, because the whole brain
is smaller; relatively, because the higher centers, which at a later
period perform their functions with consciousness and accessory ideas,
are still lacking. Notwithstanding this, the time is longer than at a
later period--often amounting to several seconds--because the working up
of what has been heard, and even the arrangement of it in the center for
sound-images, and of what has been seen in the center for sight-images,
takes more time apart from a somewhat less swift propagation of the
nerve-excitement in the peripheral paths. The child's imitation can not
be called fully conscious or deliberate. It resembles the half-conscious
or unconscious imitation attained by the adult through frequent
repetition--i. e., through manifold practice--and which, as a sort of
reminiscence of conscious or an abbreviation of deliberate imitation,
results from frequent continuous use of the same paths. Only, the
child's imitations last longer, and especially the reading-off from the
mouth. The child can not distinguish the positions of the mouth that
belong to a syllable, but can produce them himself very correctly. He is
like the patients that Kussmaul calls "word-blind," who can not, in
spite of good sight, read the written words they see, but can express
them in speech and writing. For the same word, e. g., _atta_, which the
child does not read off from the mouth and does not repeat, he uses
himself when he wants to be taken out; thus the inability is not
expressive-motor, but central or intercentral. For the child can
already see very well the movement of mouth and tongue; the impressive
sight-path has been long established.
Herein this sort of word-blindness agrees fully with the physiological
word-deafness of the normal child without speech, whose hearing is good.
For he understands wrongly what he hears, when, e. g., in response to
the order, "No! no!" he makes the affirmative movement of the head,
although he can make the right movement very well. Here too, then, it is
not centrifugal and centripetal peripheral lines, but intercentral paths
or centers, that are not yet sufficiently developed--in the case of my
child, in the fourteenth month. The path leading from the word-center to
the dictorium, and the word-center itself, must have been as yet too
little used.
From all this it results, in relation to the question, how the child
comes to learn and to use words, that in the first place he has ideas;
secondly, he imitates sounds, syllables, and words spoken for him;
and, thirdly, he associates the ideas with these. E. g., the idea
"white+wet+sweet+warm" having arisen out of frequent seeing, feeling,
and tasting of milk, it depends upon what primitive syllable is
selected for questioning the hungry infant, for talking to him, or
quieting him, whether he expresses his desire for food by _möm_,
_mimi_, _nana_, _ning_, or _maman_, or _mäm_, or _mem_, or _mima_, or
yet other syllables. The oftener he has the idea of food (i. e.,
something that banishes hunger or the unpleasant feeling of it), and
at the same time the sound-impression "milk," so much the more will
the latter be associated with the former, and in consideration of the
great advantages it offers, in being understood by all, will finally
be adopted. Thus the child learns his first words. But in each
individual case the first words acquired in this manner have a wider
range of meaning than the later ones.
By means of pure echolalia, without associating ideas with the word
babbled in imitation, the child learns, to be sure, to articulate words
likewise; but he does not learn to understand them or to use them
properly unless coincidences, intentional or accidental, show him this
or that result when this or that word is uttered by him. If the child,
e. g., hearing the new word "Schnee," says, as an echo, _nee_, and then
some one shows him actual snow, the meaningless _nee_ becomes associated
with a sense-intuition; and later, also, nothing can take the place of
the intuition--i. e., the direct, sensuous perception--as a means of
instruction. This way of learning the use of words is exactly the
opposite of that just discussed, and is less common because more
laborious. For, in the first case, the idea is first present, and only
needs to be expressed (through hearing the appropriate word). In the
second case, the word comes first, and the idea has to be brought in
artificially. Later, the word, not understood, awakens curiosity, and
thereby generates ideas. But this requires greater maturity.
The third way in which the first words are learned is this: The idea and
the word appear almost simultaneously, as in onomatopoetic designations
and interjections. Absolutely original onomatopoetic words are very rare
with children, and have not been observed by me except after the
children already knew some words. The names of animals, _bow-wow_,
_moo-moo_, _peep-peep_ (bird), _hotto_ (horse), from the expression of
the carter, "hott-ho" ("_tt_," instead of _Haut_ (the skin), i. e.,
"left," in contrast with "aarr"--_Haar_, _Mähne_ (the mane)--i. e.,
"right"), are spoken for the child by the members of his family. Some
names of animals, like _kukuk_ (cuckoo), also _kikeriki_ (cock) and
_kuak_ (duck, frog), are probably formed often without having been heard
from others, only more indistinctly, by German, English (American), and
French children. _Ticktack_ (_tick-tick_) has also been repeated by a
boy of two years for a watch. On the other hand, _weo-weo-weo_ (German,
_[)u]io_) for the noise of winding a watch (observed by Holden in a boy
of two years) is original. _Hüt_, as an unsuccessful imitation of the
locomotive-whistle by my boy of two and a half years, seems also
noteworthy as an onomatope independently invented, because it was used
daily for months in the same way merely to designate the whistle. The
voice of the hen, of the redstart, the creaking of a wheel, were
imitated by my child of his own accord long before he could speak a
word. But this did not go so far as the framing of syllables. It is not
easy in this to trace so clearly the framing of a concept as attaching
itself directly to onomatopoetic forms as it is in a case communicated
by Romanes. A child that was beginning to talk, saw and heard a duck on
the water, and said _quack_. Thereafter the child called, on the one
hand, all birds and insects, on the other hand, all liquids, _quack_.
Finally, it called all coins also _quack_, after having seen an eagle
on a French sou. Thus the child came, by gradual generalization, to the
point of designating a fly, wine, and a piece of money by the same
onomatopoetic word, although only the first perception contained the
characteristic that gave the name.
Another case is reported by Eduard Schulte: A boy of a year and three
quarters applied the joyous outcry _ei_ (which may be an imitated
interjection), modifying it first into _eiz_, into _aze_, and then into
_ass_, to his wooden goat on wheels, and covered with rough hide; _eiz_,
then, became exclusively a cry of joy; _ass_, the name for everything
that moved along--e. g., for animals and his own sister and the wagon;
also for everything that moved at all; finally, for everything that had
a rough surface. Now, as this child already called all coverings of the
head and covers of cans _huta_, when he saw, for the first time, a fur
cap, he at once christened it _ass-huta_. Here took place a decided
subordination of one concept to another, and therewith a new formation
of a word. How broad the comprehensiveness of the concept designated
_huta_ was, is perceived especially in this, that it was used to express
the wish to have objects at which the child pointed. He liked to put all
sorts of things that pleased him upon his head, calling them _huta_. Out
of the _huta_, for "I should like to have that as a hat" grew, then,
after frequent repetition, "I should like that." There was in this case
an extension of the narrower concept, after it had itself experienced
previously a differentiation, and so a limitation, by means of the
suffix _ass_. These examples show how independent of words the formation
of concepts is. With the smallest stock of words the concepts are yet
manifold, and are designated by the same word when there is a lack of
words for the composition of new words, and so for fresh
word-formation.
The formation of words out of interjections without imitation has not
been observed. Here belongs the _rollu_, _rollolo_, uttered by my boy,
of his own accord, on seeing rolling balls or wheels; and (in the
twentieth month) _rodi_, _otto_, _rojo_, where the rotation perceived by
the child occasions at once the one or the other exclamation containing
_l_ or _r_. In the case of Steinthal, it was _lu-lulu_; in the case of a
boy a year and a half old, observed by Kussmaul, it was _golloh_. In
these cases the first interjection is always occasioned by a _noise_,
not simply by the sight of things rolling without noise. The
interjection must accordingly be styled imitative. A combination of the
original--i. e., inborn--interjectional sounds into syllables and groups
of syllables, without the assistance of members of the family, and
without imitation, for the purpose of communicating an idea, is not
proved to exist.
On the whole, the way in which the child learns to speak not merely
resembles the way in which he learns at a later period to write, but is
essentially completely in accord with it. Here, too, he makes no new
inventions. First are drawn strokes and blurs without meaning; then
certain strokes are imitated; then signs of sounds. These can not be at
once combined into syllables, and even after the combination has been
achieved and the written word can be made from the syllables it is not
yet understood. Yet the child could see, even before the first
instruction in writing or the first attempt at scribbling, every
individual letter in the dimensions in which he writes it later. So,
too, the speechless child hears every sound before he understands
syllables and words, and he understands them before he can speak them.
The child commonly learns reading before writing, and so understands the
sign he is to write before he can write it. Yet the sign written by
himself is often just as unintelligible to him as the word he himself
speaks. The analogy is perfect.
If the first germs of words, after ideas have begun to become clear by
means of keener perception, are once formed, then the child fashions
them of his own effort, and this often with surprising distinctness; but
in the majority of cases the words are mutilated. In the first category
belongs the comparative _hocher_ for _höher_ in the sentence _hocher
bauen_ (build higher)! (in the third year uttered as a request when
playing with building-stones). The understanding of the comparative is
plainly manifest in this. When, therefore, the same child in his fifth
year, to the improper question, "Whom do you like better, papa or
mamma?" answers, "Papa and mamma," we should not infer a lack of that
understanding, as many do (e. g., Heyfelder); but the decision is
impossible to the child. Just so in the case of the question, "Would you
rather have the apple or the pear?"
Other inventions of my child were the verb _messen_ for "mit dem
Messer schneiden" (to cut with the knife); _schiffern_, i. e., "das
Schiff bewegen" (move the ship), for "rudern," (row). And the
preference of the weak inflection on the part of all children is a
proof that _after_ the appropriation of a small number of words
through imitation, independent--always logical--changes of formation
are undertaken. _Gegebt_, _gegeht_, _getrinkt_ (gived, goed, drinked),
have never been heard by the child; but "gewebt, geweht, gewinkt" (as
in English, waved, wafted, beckoned), have been known to him as models
(or other formations corresponding to these). Yet this is by no means
to say that every mutilation or transformation the child proposes is a
copy after an erroneously selected model; rather the child's
imagination has a wide field here and acts in manifold fashion,
especially by combinations. "My teeth-roof pains me," said a boy who
did not yet know the word "palate." Another in his fourth year called
the road (Weg) the "go" (Gehe). A child of three years used the
expression, "Just grow me" (_wachs mich einmal_) for "Just see how I
have grown" (Sieh einmal wie ich gewachsen bin) (Lindner). Such
creations of the childish faculty of combination, arising partly
through blending, partly through transference, are collected in a neat
pamphlet, "Zur Philosophie der Kindersprache," by Agathon Keber, 1868.
The most of them, however, are from a later time of life than that
here treated of. So it is with the two "heretical" utterances
communicated by Rösch. A child said _unterblatte_ (under-leaf) for
"Oblate," because he saw the wafer (Oblate) slipped under the leaf of
paper (Blatt); and he called the "American chair,"
"Herr-Decaner-chair," because somebody who was called "Herr Decan"
used to sit in it. Here may be seen the endeavor to put into the
acoustic impression not understood a meaning. These expressions are
not inventions, but they are evidence of intellect. They can not, of
course, appear in younger children without knowledge of words, because
they are transformations of words.
On the other hand it is of the greatest importance for the understanding
of the first stage of the use of words in their real significance, after
the acquirement of them has once begun, to observe how many different
ideas the child announces by one and the same verbal expression. Here
are some examples: _Tuhl_ (for Stuhl, chair) signifies--1. "My chair is
gone"; 2. "The chair is broken"; 3. "I want to be lifted into the
chair"; 4. "Here is a chair." The child (Steinthal's) says (in the
twenty-second month), when he sees or hears a barking dog, _bellt_
(barks), and thinks he has by that word designated the whole complex
phenomenon, the sight-perception of the dog and of a particular dog, and
the sound-perception; but he says _bellt_ also when he merely hears the
dog. No doubt the memory-image of the dog he has seen is then revived
for him.
Through this manifold significance of a word, which is a substitute for
a whole sentence, is exhibited a much higher activity of the intellect
than appears in the mutilation and new formation of words having but one
meaning to designate a sense-impression, for, although in the latter is
manifested the union of impressions into perceptions and also of
qualities into concepts, wherein an unconscious judgment is involved,
yet a _clear_ judgment is not necessarily connected with them. The union
of concepts into conscious clear judgments is recognized rather in the
formation of a sentence, no matter whether this is expressed by one word
or by several words.
In connection with this an error must be corrected that is wide-spread.
It consists in the assumption that all children begin to speak with
nouns, and that these are followed by verbs. This is by no means the
case. The child daily observed by me used an adjective for the first
time in the twenty-third month in order to express a judgment, the
first one expressed in the language of those about him. He said "hot"
for "The milk is too hot." In general, the appropriation and employment
of words for the first formation of sentences depends, in the first
instance, upon the action of the adults in the company of the child. A
good example of this is furnished by an observation of Lindner, whose
daughter in her fourteenth month first begged with her hands for a piece
of apple, upon which the word "apple" was distinctly pronounced to her.
After she had eaten the apple she repeated the request, re-enforcing her
gesture this time by the imitated sound _appn_, and her request was
again granted. Evidently encouraged by her success, the child from that
time on used _appn_ for "eat, I want to eat," as a sign of her desire to
eat in general, because those about her "accepted this signification and
took the word stamped by her upon this concept for current coin, else it
would very likely have been lost." This also confirms my statement (p.
85) that a child easily learns to speak with logical correctness with
wrong words. He also speaks like the deaf-mute with logical correctness
with quite a different arrangement of words from that of his speech of a
later period. Thus the child just mentioned, in whom "the inclination to
form sentences was manifest from the twenty-second month," said, "hat
die Olga getrinkt," when she had drunk!
But every child learns at first not only the language of those in whose
immediate daily companionship he grows up, but also at first the
peculiarities of these persons. He imitates the accent, intonation,
dialect, as well as the word, so that a Thuringian child may be surely
distinguished from a Mecklenburg child even in the second and third
year, and, at the same time, we may recognize the peculiarities of the
speech of its mother or nurse, with whom it has most intercourse. This
phenomenon, the persistence of dialects and of peculiarities of speech
in single families, gives the impression, on a superficial observation,
of being something inherited; whereas, in fact, nothing is inherited
beyond the voice through inheritance of the organic peculiarities of the
mechanism of phonation. For everything else completely disappears when a
child learns to speak from his birth in a foreign community.
Hereditary we may, indeed, call the characteristic of humanity, speech;
hereditary, also, is articulation in man, and the faculty of acquiring
any articulate language is innate. But beyond this the tribal influence
does not reach. If the possibility of learning to speak words
phonetically is wanting because ear or tongue refuses, then another
language comes in as a substitute--that of looks, gestures, writing,
tactile images--then not Broca's center, but another one is generated.
So that the question whether a speech-center already exists in the
alalic child must be answered in the negative; the center is formed only
when the child hears speech, and, if he does not hear speech, no center
is developed. In this case the ganglionic cells of the posterior third
of the third frontal convolution are otherwise employed, or they suffer
atrophy. In learning to speak, on the contrary, there is a continuous
development, first of the sound-center, then of the syllable-center,
then of the word-center and the dictorium. The brain grows through its
own activity.
CHAPTER XVIII.
FIRST SOUNDS AND BEGINNINGS OF SPEECH IN THE CASE OF A CHILD OBSERVED
DAILY DURING HIS FIRST THREE YEARS.
The observations bearing upon the acquirement of speech recorded by me
in the case of my boy from the day of his birth, the 23d of November,
1877, are here presented, so far as they appear worthy of being
communicated, in chronological order. They are intended to serve as
authenticated documents.
The points to which the attention is to be directed in these
observations are determined by the organic conditions of the acquirement
of speech, which have been treated previously. First, the expressive
processes, next the impressive, last the central processes, claim the
attention. (1) To the _expressive_ beginnings of speech belongs the sum
total of the inarticulate sounds--crying, whimpering, grunting, cooing,
squealing, crowing, laughing, shouting (for joy), modulation of the
voice, smacking, and many others, but also the silent movement of the
tongue; further, articulation, especially before imitation begins; the
formation of sound, and so the gradual perfecting of the vowels,
aspirates, and consonants; at the same time the forming of syllables.
The last is especially easy to follow in the babbling monologues of the
infant, which are often very long. The reduplication of syllables,
accentuation, and inflection, whispering, singing, etc., belong likewise
here. (2) The _impressive_ processes are discerned in the looks and
gestures of the child as yet speechless; later, the ability to
discriminate in regard to words and noises, and the connection of the
ear with the speech-center, are discerned in the first imitations of
sounds and in the repeating after others--i. e., in word-imitation. Here
belong also the onomatopoetic attempts of children, which are simply a
sort of imitation. Later, are added to these the answers to simple
spoken questions, these answers being partly interjectional, partly
articulate, joined into syllables, words, and then sentences. The
understanding of words heard is announced especially by the first
listening, by the association of certain movements with certain
sound-impressions, and of motionless objects with other
sound-impressions, before speaking begins. Hereby (3) the _central_
processes are already shown to be in existence. The childish logic,
especially induction from too few particulars, the mutilation of words
reproduced, the wrong applications of expressions correctly repeated,
the confounding of opposites in the verbal designation of concepts of
the child's own formation, offer an abundance of noteworthy facts for
the genesis of mind. Moreover, the memory for sounds and words, the
imagination, especially in filling out, as well as the first acts of
judging, the forming of propositions, questioning--all these are to be
considered. As for the order in which the separate classes of words
appear, the training in learning-by-heart, speculations as to which
spoken word is first perfectly understood, to these matters I have paid
less attention, for the reason that here the differences in the child's
surroundings exert the greatest influence. My report must, in any event,
as a rough draft of the history of the development of language in the
child, be very imperfect. It, however, contains nothing but perfectly
trustworthy matter of my own observation.
During the first weeks the child often cried long and vigorously from
discomfort. If one were to try to represent by written vowels the
screaming sounds, these would most nearly resemble, in the majority of
cases, a short _u_ (oo in book), with a very quickly following prolonged
_ä_ (_ai_ in fair); thus, _uä_, _uä_, _uä_, _uä_, were the first sounds
that may be approximately expressed. They were uttered after the lapse
of five months exactly as at the beginning, only more vigorously. All
the other vowel-sounds were at first undefined.
Notwithstanding this uniformity in the vowel-sounds, the sounds of the
voice are so varied, even within the first five weeks, that it may be
told with certainty from these alone whether the child feels hunger or
pain or pleasure. Screaming with the eyes firmly closed in hunger,
whimpering in slight indisposition, laughing at bright objects in
motion, the peculiar grunting sounds which at a later period are joined
with abdominal pressure and with lively arm-movements, as the
announcement of completed digestion and of wetness (retained for the
first of these states even into the seventeenth month), are manifold
acoustic expressions of vitality, and are to be looked upon as the first
forerunners of future oral communication, in contrast with the
loud-sounding reflex movements of sneezing and of hiccough, and with the
infrequent snoring, snuffling (in sucking), and other loud expirations
observed in the first days, which have just as little linguistic value
as have coughing and the later clearing of the throat.
The voice is very powerful as early as the sixth day, especially when it
announces feelings of discomfort. Screaming is much more frequent,
persistent, and vigorous also when diluted cow's milk is given instead
of that from the breast. If one occupies himself longer than usual with
the infant (in the first two months), the child is afterward more
inclined to cry, and cries then (as in the case of hunger) quite
differently from what he does when giving notice of something
unpleasant--e. g., wetness. Directly upon his being made dry, the crying
ceases, as now a certain contentment is attained. On the other hand, the
inclination to cry serves very early (certainly from the tenth week on)
as a sign of well-being (or increase in the growth of the muscles). At
least a prolonged silence at this season is wont to be connected with
slight ailment. But it is to be remarked that during the whole period no
serious illness, lasting more than one day, occurred.
On the forty-third day I heard the _first consonant_. The child, in a
most comfortable posture, uttering all sorts of obscure sounds, said
once distinctly _am-ma_. Of vowels, _ao_ was likewise heard on that day.
But, on the following day, the child surprised me and others by the
syllables, spoken with perfect distinctness, _ta-hu_.
On the forty-sixth day, in the otherwise unintelligible babble of the
infant, I heard, once each, _gö_ (_ö_ nearly like _i_ in bird), _örö_,
and, five days later, _ara_.
In the eighth and ninth _weeks_, the two utterances, _örrö_, _arra_,
became frequent, the _ö_ and _a_ being pure and the _r_ uvular.
The syllable _ma_ I heard by itself (it was during his crying) for the
first time on the sixty-fourth day. But on the following day was
sounded, during persistent, loud crying, often and distinctly (it
returned in like manner months after), _nei_, _nei_, _nei_, and once,
during his babbling, _a-omb_.
On the day after, distinctly, once each, _la_, _grei_, _aho_, and,
besides, _ma_ again.
On the sixty-ninth day, the child, when hungry, uttered repeatedly and
very distinctly, _mömm_ and _ngö_.
Of the syllables earlier spoken, only _örrö_ is distinctly repeated in
the tenth week. On the seventy-first day, the child being in the most
comfortable condition, there comes the new combination, _ra-a-ao_, and,
five days later, in a hungry and uncomfortable mood, _nä_, and then
_n[=a]i-n_.
The manifest sign of contentment was very distinct (on the
seventy-eighth day): _habu_, and likewise in the twelfth week _a-i_ and
_u[=a]o_, as well as _ä-o-a_, alternating with _ä-a-a_, and _o-ä-ö_.
It now became more and more difficult to represent by letters the
sounds, already more varied, and even to distinguish the vowels and
repeat them accurately. The child cries a good deal, as if to exercise
his respiratory muscles. To the sounds uttered while the child is lying
comfortably are added in the fourteenth week _ntö_, _ha_. The last was
given with an unusually loud cry, with distinct aspiration of the _h_,
though with no indication that the child felt any particular pleasure.
At this period I heard besides repeatedly _lö_, _na_, the latter along
with screaming at disagreeable impressions more and more frequently and
distinctly; in the fifteenth week, _nannana_, _n[=a]-n[=a]_, _nanna_ in
refusal. On the other hand, the earlier favorite _örrö_ has not been
heard at all for some weeks.
Screaming while waiting for his food to be prepared (milk and water)
or for the nurse, who had not sufficient nourishment for the child,
is marked, in the sixteenth week--as is also screaming on account
of unpleasant feelings--in general by predominance of the vowels,
_ä-[)u]_, _ä-[)u] ä_, _[=a]-[)u]_, _[=a]-[)u]_, _[)u]-ä_, _[)u]-ä_,
_[=u]-[=u]-[=a]-ö_, but meantime is heard _amme-a_, and as a sign
of special discomfort the persistent ill-sounding
_[=u][)a]-[=u][)a]-[=u][)a]-[=u][)a]_ (_[)u]_ = Eng. _[=oo]_).
Screaming in the first five months expresses itself in the main by the
vowels _u_, _ä_, _ö_, _a_, with _ü_ and _o_ occurring more seldom, and
without other consonants, for the most part, than _m_.
In the fifth month no new consonants were developed except _k_; but a
merely passive _gö_, _kö_, _aggegg[)e]kö_, the last more rarely than the
first, was heard with perfect distinctness during the child's yawning.
While in this case the _g_-sound originates passively, it was produced,
in connection with _ö_, evidently by the position of the tongue, when
the child was in a contented frame, as happens in nursing; _ögö_ was
heard in the twenty-second week, as well as _ma-ö-[)e]_, _h[)a]_,
_[=a]_, _ho-ich_. The _i_ here appeared more distinct than in the third
month. The soft _ch_, which sounded like the _g_ in "Honig," was
likewise quite distinct.
About this time began the amusing loud "crowing" of the child, an
unmistakable expression of pleasure. The strong aspirate sound _ha_, and
this sound united with the labial _r_ in _brrr-há_; corresponding in
force to the voice, which had become exceptionally powerful, must
likewise be regarded as expressions of pleasure. So with the sounds
_aja_, _örrgö_, _[=a]-[=a]-i-[)o]-[=a]_, which the child toward the end
of the first half-year utters as if for his own gratification as he lies
in comfort. With these belongs also the frequently repeated "eu" of the
French "heure," and the "oeu" of the French "coeur," which is not
found in the German language, also the primitive sounds _ä_ and _ö_
(German). The lips contract very regularly, and are protruded equally in
the transition from _ä_ to _ö_. I heard also _ijä_ cried out by the
child in very gay mood. In the babbling and crowing continued often for
a long time without interruption, consonants are seldom uttered, pure
vowels, with the exception of _a_, less often than _ä_ and _ö_; _i_ and
_u_ are especially rare.
When the child lies on his back, he moves his arms and legs in a lively
manner even without any external provocation. He contracts and expands
all the muscles he can command, among these especially the muscles of
the larynx, of the tongue, and of the aperture of the mouth. In the
various movements of the tongue made at random it often happens that the
mouth is partly or entirely closed. Then the current of air that issues
forth in breathing bursts the barrier and thus arise many sounds, among
them some that do not exist in the German language, e. g., frequently
and distinctly, by means of labio-lingual stoppage, a consonant-sound
between _p_ and _t_ or between _b_ and _d_, in the production of which
the child takes pleasure, as he does also in the labial _brr_ and _m_.
By far the greater part of the consonant-sounds produced by the
exercises of the tongue and lips can not be represented in print; just
as the more prolonged and more manifold movements of the extremities,
movements made by the child when he has eaten his fill, and is not
sleepy and is left to himself, can not be drawn or described. It is
noteworthy that all the utterances of sound are expiratory. I have not
once observed an attempt to form sounds while drawing in the breath.
In the seventh month the child at one time screamed piercingly, in very
high tones, from pain. When hungry and desiring milk, he said with
perfect distinctness, _mä_, _ä_, _[)u]ä_, _[)u]ä[)e]_; when contented he
would say _örrö_ too, as at an earlier period. The screaming was
sometimes kept up with great vigor until the child began to be hoarse,
in case his desire, e. g., to leave his bed, was not granted. When the
child screams with hunger, he draws the tongue back, shortens it and
thereby broadens it, making loud expirations with longer or shorter
intervals. In pain, on the other hand, the screaming is uninterrupted
and the tones are higher than in any other screaming. During the
screaming I heard the rare _l_ distinctly in the syllable _lä_. The
vowels _[)u]-[=a]-[)u]-i-i_ also appeared distinctly, all as if coming
by accident, and not often pure. The _t_ also was seldom heard; _f_,
_s_, _sch_, _st_, _sp_, _sm_, _ts_, _ks_, _w_, not once yet; on the
other hand, _b_, _d_, _m_, _n_, _r_, often; _g_, _h_, more seldom; _k_,
only in yawning; _p_, but very rarely, both in screaming and in the
child's babble to himself or in response to friendly address.
In the eighth month the screaming sounds were for the most part
different from what they had been; the disagreeable screaming no
longer so intense and prolonged, from the time that the food of the
child consisted exclusively of pap (Kindermehl) and water. Single
vowels, like _u_ and _ä_, are very often not to be heard pure. Often
the child does not move the lips at all when with mouth shut he
lifts and drops the larynx, and with eager desire for the pap howls;
or coos like a dove, or grunts. The prattling monologues become
longer when the child is alone, lying comfortably in bed. But
definite consonants can only with difficulty be distinguished in
them, with the exception of _r_ in the _örrö_, which still continues
to be uttered, though rarely and unintentionally. Once the child,
while in the bath, cried out as if yawning, _h[=a]-upp_, and
frequently, when merry, _a-[(ei]_, _a-[(au]_, _[)a]-h[(au]-[)a]_,
_hörrö_. When he babbles contentedly in this manner, he moves the
tongue quickly, both symmetrically, e. g., raising the edges
equally, and asymmetrically, thrusting it forward to right or left.
He often also puts out the tongue between the lips and draws it back
during expiration, producing thereby the before-mentioned
labio-lingual explosive sounds. I also heard _nt[)e]-ö_, _mi-ja_,
_mija_ (_j_ like Eng. _y_) and once distinctly _o[)u][=a][)e]i_.
In the ninth month it is still difficult to recognize definite syllables
among the more varied utterances of sound. But the voice, often indeed
very loud and inarticulate, is already more surely modulated as the
expression of psychical states. When the child, e. g., desires a new,
especially a bright object, he not only stretches both arms in the
direction of it, indicating the direction by his gaze, but also makes
known, by the same sound he makes before taking his food, that he wants
it. This complex combination of movements of eye, larynx, tongue, lips,
and arm-muscles appears now more and more; and we can recognize in his
screaming the desire for a change of position, discomfort (arising from
wet, heat, cold), anger, and pain. The last is announced by screaming
with the mouth in the form of a square and by higher pitch. But delight
at a friendly expression of face also expresses itself by high crowing
sounds, only these are not so high and are not continued long. Violent
stretchings of arms and legs accompany (in the thirty-fourth week first)
the joyous utterance. Coughing, almost a clearing of the throat, is very
rare. Articulate utterances of pleasure, e. g., at music, are _mä-mä_,
_äm-mä_, _mä_.
Meantime the lip-movements of the _m_ were made without the utterance of
sound, as if the child had perceived the difference. Other expressions
of sound without assignable cause are _[=a]-au [=a]-[=a]_, _[=a]-[)o]_,
_a-u-au_, _na-na_, the latter not with the tone of denial as formerly,
and often repeated rapidly in succession. As separate utterances in
comfortable mood, besides _örrö_ came _apa_, _ga au-[)a]_, _acha_.
The tenth month is marked by the increasing distinctness of the
syllables in the monologues, which are more varied, louder, and more
prolonged when the child is left to himself than when any one tries
to entertain him. Of new syllables are to be noted _ndä[)e]_,
_b[=a]ë-b[=a]ë_, _ba ell_, _arrö_.
From the forty-second week on, especially the syllables _mä_ and
_pappa_, _tatta_, _appapa_, _babba_, _tätä_, _pa_, are frequently
uttered, and the uvular _rrrr_, _rrra_, are repeated unweariedly.
The attempts to make the child repeat syllables pronounced to him,
even such syllables as he has before spoken of his own accord, all
fail. In place of _tatta_ he says, in the most favorable instance,
_tä_ or _ata_; but even here there is progress, for in the previous
month even these hints at _imitating_ or even responding to sound
were almost entirely lacking.
In the eleventh month some syllables emphatically pronounced to the
child were for the first time correctly repeated. I said "ada" several
times, and the attentive child, after some ineffectual movements of the
lips, repeated correctly _ada_, which he had for that matter often said
of his own accord long before. But this single repetition was so decided
that I was convinced that the _sound-imitation_ was intentional. It was
the first _unquestionable_ sound-imitation. It took place on the three
hundred and twenty-ninth day. The same day when I said "mamma," the
response was _nanna_. In general, it often happens, when something is
said for imitation, and the child observes attentively my lips, that
evident attempts are made at imitation; but for the most part something
different makes its appearance, or else a silent movement of the lips.
In the forty-fifth week everything said to the child, in case it
received his attention, was responded to with movements of lips and
tongue, which gave the impression of being made at random and of serving
rather for diversion.
Further, at this period the child begins during his long monologues to
_whisper_. He produces sounds in abundance, varying in force, pitch, and
_timbre_, as if he were speaking an unknown tongue; and some single
syllables may gradually be more easily distinguished, although the
corresponding positions of the mouth pass into one another, sometimes
quite gradually, sometimes rapidly. The following special cases I was
able to establish by means of numerous observations:
In crying _rrra_, there is a vibration on both sides of the edges of the
tongue, which is bent to a half-cylinder with the ridge upward. In this
way the child produces three kinds of _r_-sounds--the labial, the
uvular, and this bilateral-lingual.
New syllables of this period are _ta-h[(ee]_, _dann-tee_,
_[(aa]-n[(ee]_, _ngä_, _tai_, _bä_, _dall_, _at-tall_, _kamm_,
_akkee_, _praï-jer_, _tra_, _[=a]-h[(ee]_. Among them _tra_ and
_pra_ are noteworthy as the first combination of _t_ and _p_ with
_r_. The surprising combinations _attall_ and _akkee_ and _praijer_,
which made their appearance singly without any occasion that could
be noticed, like others, are probably the first attempts to
reproduce the child's own name (Axel Preyer) from memory. Of earlier
sounds, syllables, and combinations of these, the following are
especially frequent: _Mammam_, _apapa_, _örrö_, _papa_, _tata_,
_tatta_, _n[(aa]_, _rrra_, _pata_, _mmm_, _n[)a]_, _[=a]_, _ä_,
_[(au]_, _anna_, _attapa_, _dadada_, _ja_, _ja-ja_, _eja_, _jaë_.
The last syllables are distinguished by the distinct _e_, which is
now more frequent.
All the pains taken to represent a babbling monologue perfectly by
letters were fruitless, because these distinct and oft-repeated
syllables alternated with indistinct loud and soft ones. Still, on the
whole, of the consonants the most frequent at this period are _b_, _p_,
_t_, _d_, _m_, _n_, and the new _r_; _l_, _g_, _k_, not rare. Of vowels
the _a_ has a decided preponderance. Both _u_ and _o_ are rare; _i_ very
rare. Yet a vowel is not repeated, either by itself or in a syllable,
more than five times in succession without an interval. Commonly it is
twice or three times. I have also noticed that the mechanical repetition
of the same syllable, e. g., _papapa_, occurs far more often than the
alternation of a distinctly spoken syllable with, another distinctly
spoken one, like _pata_. In the mean time it is certain that the child
during his various movements of lips and tongue, along with contraction
and expansion of the opening of the mouth, readily starts with surprise
when he notices such a change of acoustic effect. It seems as if he were
himself taking pleasure in practicing regularly all sorts of symmetrical
and asymmetrical positions of the mouth, sometimes in silence, sometimes
with loud voice, then again with soft voice. In the combinations of
syllables, moreover, palpable accentuation somewhat like this, _appápapa
atátata_, is by no means frequent. The surprisingly often repeated
_dadada_ has generally no accent.
With regard to the question whether in this period, especially important
for the development of the apparatus of speech, any articulate utterance
of sound stands in firm association with an idea, I have observed the
child under the most varied circumstances possible without disturbing
him; but I have ascertained only one such case with certainty. The
_atta_, _hödda_, _hatta_, _hataï_, showed itself to be associated with
the perception that something disappeared, for it was uttered when some
one left the room, when the light was extinguished, and the like; also,
to be sure, sometimes when such remarkable changes were not
discoverable. Thus, the eleventh month ends without any other
indubitable firm _association of articulation and idea_.
In the next four weeks, up to the _end of the first year_ of life, there
was no progress in this respect to record; but, from this time on, an
eager desire--e. g., for a biscuit seen, but out of reach--was regularly
announced by _ä-na_, _ä-nananana_, uttered loudly and with an
expression of indescribable longing.
The attempts at imitation, too, are somewhat more successful, especially
the attention is more strained. When, e. g., in the fifty-first week, I
sang something for the child, he gazed fixedly more than a minute, with
immovable countenance, without winking, at my mouth, and then moved his
own tongue. Correct repetition of a syllable pronounced to him is,
however, very rare. When I laugh, and the child observes it, he laughs
likewise, and then crows, with strong abdominal pressure. This same loud
expression of joy is exhibited when the child unexpectedly sees his
parents at a distance. This peculiar pressure, with strong expiration,
is in general associated with feelings of pleasure. The child almost
seems to delight in the discovery of his own abdominal pressure, when he
produces by means of it the very high crowing sounds with the vowel _i_
or a genuine grunt.
Of articulate sounds, syllables, and combinations, made without
suggestion from others in the twelfth month, I have caught the following
particularly with accuracy: _haja_, _jajajajaja_, _aja_, _njaja_,
_naïn-hopp_, _ha-a_, _pa-a_, _d[=e]wär_, _han-na_, _mömma_, _allda_,
_alldaï_, _apa-u-a_, _gägä_, _ka_, _ladn_. Besides, the earlier _atta_
variously modified; no longer _dada_.
More important than such almost meaningless sound-formations, among
which, by the way, appears for the first time _w_ is the now awakened
_ability to discriminate between words heard_. The child turns around
when his name is spoken in a loud voice; he does this, it is true, at
other loud sounds also, but then with a different expression. When he
hears a new tone, a new noise, he is surprised, opens his eyes wide, and
holds his mouth open, without moving.
By frequent repetition of the words, "Give the hand," with the holding
out of the hand, I have brought the child, in the fifty-second week, to
the point of obeying this command of himself--a sure proof that he
distinguishes words heard. Another child did the same thing in the
seventh month. In this we can not fail to see the beginning of
communication by means of ordinary language, but this remained a
one-sided affair till past the third half-year, the child being simply
receptive. During this whole period, moreover, from birth on, special
sounds, particularly "sch (Eng., _sh_), ss, st, pst," just the ones not
produced by the child, had a remarkable effect of a quieting character.
If the child heard them when he was screaming, he became quiet, as when
he heard singing or instrumental music.
In the _first weeks of the second year of life_, the child behaves just
as awkwardly as ever in regard to saying anything that is said to him,
but his attention has become more lively. When anything is said to him
for him to say--e. g., _papa_, _mama_, _atta_, _tatta_--he looks at the
speaker with eyes wide open and mouth half open, moves the tongue and
the lips, often very slightly, often vigorously, but can not at the same
time make his voice heard, or else he says, frequently with an effort of
abdominal pressure, _attaï_. Earlier, even in the forty-fifth week, he
had behaved in much the same way, but to the word "papa," pronounced to
him, he had responded _rrra_. Once only, I remember, _papa_ was repeated
correctly, in a faint tone, on the three hundred and sixty-ninth day,
almost as by one in a dream. With this exception, no word could be
repeated on command, notwithstanding the fact that the faculty of
imitation was already active in another department. The syllables most
frequently uttered at this stage were _nja_, _njan_, _dada_, _atta_,
_mama_, _papaï_, _attaï_, _na-na-na_, _hatta_,
_meen[)e]-meen[)e]-meen[)e]_, _mömm_, _mömma_, _ao-u_.
Of these syllables, _na-na_ regularly denotes a desire, and the arms are
stretched out in connection with it; _mama_ is referred to the mother
perhaps in the fifty-fourth week, on account of the pleasure she shows
at the utterance of these syllables, but they are also repeated
mechanically without any reference to her; _atta_ is uttered now and
then at going away, but at other times also. His joy--e. g., at
recognizing his mother at a distance--the child expresses by crowing
sounds, which have become stronger and higher than they were, but which,
can not be clearly designated; the nearest approach to a representation
of them is _[)a]hij[)a]_. Affirmation and negation may already be
recognized by the tone of voice alone. The signification of the cooing
and the grunting sounds remains the same. The former indicates desire of
food; the latter the need of relieving the bowels. As if to exercise the
vocal cords, extraordinarily high tones are now produced, which may be
regarded as signs of pleasure in his own power. An imperfect language
has thus already been formed imperceptibly, although no single object is
as yet designated by a sound assigned to it _alone_. The articulation
has made progress, for on the three hundred and sixty-eighth day
appeared the first distinct _s_, in the syllable _ssi_; quite
incidentally, to be sure.
The most important advance consists in the now awakened _understanding
of spoken words_. The ability to learn, or the capability of being
trained, has emerged almost as if it had come in a night.
For it did not require frequent repetition of the question, "How tall is
the child?" along with holding up his arms, in order to make him execute
this movement every time that he heard the words, "Wie gross?" ("How
tall?") or "ooss," nay, even merely "oo." It was easy, too, to induce
him to take an ivory ring, lying before him attached to a thread, into
his hand, and reach it to me prettily when I held out my hand and said,
"Where is the ring?" and, after it had been grasped, said, "Give." In
the same way, the child holds the biscuit, which he is carrying to his
mouth, to the lips of the person who says pleasantly to him, "Give"; and
he has learned to move his head sidewise hither and thither when he
hears "No, no." If we say to him, when he wants food or an object he has
seen, "Bitte, bitte" (say "Please"), he puts his hands together in a
begging attitude, a thing which seemed at first somewhat hard for him to
learn. Finally, he had at this time been taught to respond to the
question, "Where is the little rogue?" by touching the side of his head
with his hand (a movement he had often made of himself before).
From this it appears beyond a doubt that now (rather late in comparison
with other children) the association of words heard with certain
movements is established, inasmuch as upon acoustic impressions--at
least upon combined impressions of hearing and of sight, which are
repeated in like fashion--like movements follow, and indeed follow
invariably with the expression of great satisfaction on the countenance.
Yet this connection between the sensorium and the motorium is not yet
stable, for there follows not seldom upon a command distinctly uttered,
and without doubt correctly understood, the wrong movement--paramimy.
Upon the question, "How tall?" the hands are put together for "Please,"
and the like. Once when I said, "How tall?" the child raised his arms a
moment, then struck himself on the temples, and thereupon put his hands
together, as if "rogue," and then "please," had been said to him. All
three movements followed with the utmost swiftness, while the expression
of face was that of a person confused, with wavering look. Evidently the
child had _forgotten_ which movement belonged with the "tall," and
performed all the three tricks he had learned, _confounding_ them one
with another. This confounding of arm-raising, head-shaking, giving of
the ring, putting the hands together, touching the head, is frequent. It
is also to be noticed that some one of these five tricks is almost
invariably performed by the child when some new command is given to him
that he does not understand, as he perceives that something is required
of him--the first conscious act of _obedience_, as yet imperfect.
In the fourteenth month there was no great increase in the number of
independent utterances of sound that can be represented by syllables of
the German language. Surprising visual impressions, like the brilliant
Christmas-tree, and the observation of new objects, drew from the
pleasurably excited child, without his having touched anything, almost
the same sounds that he at other times made when in discontented mood,
_[)u]ä_, _m[)u]ä_, only softer; _mömö_ and _mama_, and also _papa_ are
frequent expressions of pleasure. When the child is taken away, he often
says _ta-ta_ loudly, also, _atta_ in a whisper. There can no longer be a
doubt that in these syllables is now expressed simply the idea of
"going." The labial _brrr_, the so-called "coachman's _R_," was
practiced by the child, of his own accord, with special eagerness, and
indeed was soon pronounced so cleverly that educated adults can not
produce it in such purity and especially with so prolonged an utterance.
The only new word is _dakku_ and _daggn_, which is often uttered
pleasantly with astonishing rapidity, in moments of enjoyment, e. g.,
when the child is eating food that tastes good. But it is also uttered
so often without any assignable occasion, that a definite meaning can
hardly be attributed to it, unless it be that of satisfaction. For it is
never heard when the least thing of a disagreeable sort has happened to
the child. The probability is obvious that we have here a case of
imitation of the "Thanks" (Danke) which he has not seldom heard. But the
modifications _taggn_, _attagn_, _attatn_, pass over into the word,
undoubtedly the original favorite, _taï_, _ataï_.
Among all the indistinct and distinct sounds of the babbling monologues,
no inspiratory ones appeared at this time either; but such did make
their appearance now and then, in a passive manner, in swallowing and in
the coughing that followed.
I spent much time in trying to get the child to repeat vowels and
syllables pronounced to him, but always without special success. When I
said plainly to him "pá-pá-pá," he answered loudly _ta-taï_, or with
manifest effort and a vigorous straining, _t-taï_, _k-taï_, _at-taï_,
_hattaï_, and the same when "má-má" was said for him by any one, no
matter whom. He also moved lips and tongue often, as if trying to get
the sound in various ways; as if the _will_ of the child, as he
attentively observed the mouth of the speaker, were present, but not the
ability to reproduce the sound-impression. Evidently he is taking pains
to repeat what he has heard; and he laughs at the unsuccessful effort,
if others laugh over it. The earliest success is with the repetition of
the vowels "a-u-o," but this is irregular and inaccurate.
In contrast with these halting performances stands the precise,
_parrot-like repetition_ of such syllables as the child had uttered of
his own accord, and which I had immediately after pronounced to him.
Thus _attaï_, _taï_, _atta_, were often easily and correctly repeated,
but, strangely enough, frequently in a whisper. The _ä-[)e]_, _ä-ö_,
_ä-[)e]_, accompanied by oscillatory movements of the hand, when
imitated directly by me was also produced again; in like manner,
regularly, the _dakkn_, but this course did not succeed in the case of
other primitive syllables or words, even under the most favorable
circumstances: here it is to be borne in mind that the last-named
utterances were precisely the most frequent at this period. When he was
requested with emphasis to say _papa_, _mama_, _tata_, he would bring
out one of the tricks he had been taught in the previous month; among
others, that of moving the head to one side and the other as if in
negation; but this it could not be, for this significance of the gesture
was wholly unknown to him at that time. Rather had the child received
the impression from my voice that he was to do something that he was
bidden, and he did what was easy to him just at the moment,
"mechanically," without knowing which of the movements that he had
learned was required (cf. p. 116).
In regard to the _understanding of words heard_, several points of
progress are to be noted; above all a change of place in consequence of
the question, "Where is your clothes-press?" The child, standing erect,
being held by the hand, at these words turns his head and his gaze
toward the clothes-press, draws the person holding him through the large
room by the hand, although he can not walk a step alone, and then opens
the press without assistance. Here, at the beginning of the fourteenth
month, is the _idea of a definite stationary object associated with a
sound heard_, and so strongly that it is able to produce an independent
act of locomotion, the first one; for, although before this the
clothes-press had often been named and shown, the going to it is still
the child's own performance.
It is now a matter of common occurrence that other words heard have also
a definite relation to objects seen. The questions, "Where is papa?
mamma? the light?" are invariably answered correctly, after brief
deliberation, by turning the head (at the word "light," occasionally
since the ninth month) and the gaze in the proper direction, and by
lifting the right arm, often also the left, to point, the fingers of the
outstretched hand being at the same time generally spread out. In the
previous month, only the association of the word _mama_ with the
appearance of the mother was established. The following are now added
to the movements executed upon hearing certain words. The child likes to
beat with his hands upon the table at which he is sitting. I said to
him, "Play the piano," and made the movement after him. Afterward, when
I merely said the word "piano" to the child (who was at the time quiet),
without moving my hands, he _considered_ for a few seconds, and then
beat again with his hands on the table. Thus the recollection of the
sound was sufficient to bring out the movement. Further, the child had
accustomed himself, of his own accord, to give a regular _snort_,
contracting the nostrils, pursing up the mouth, and breathing out
through the nose. If now any one spoke to him of the "nose," this
snorting was sure to be made. The word put the centro-motors into a
state of excitement. The same is true of the command "Give!" since the
child reaches out the object he is holding or is about to take hold of,
in case any one puts out the hand or the lips to him. Some weeks ago
this took place only with the ring and biscuit; now the word "give" has
the same effect with any object capable of being grasped, but it
operates almost like a reflex stimulus, "mechanically," without its
being even once the case that the act of giving is a purely voluntary
act or even occasioned by sympathy.
In these already learned co-ordinated movements made upon hearing the
words "Please, How tall? rogue! no! piano! ring! give!" all of which
are now executed with shorter intervals of deliberation as if by
a well-trained animal, there is in general absolutely no deeper
understanding present than that to this and the other sound-impression
belong this and the other movement. By means of daily repetition of
both, the time required for the production of the movement after the
excitement of the auditory nerve becomes less and less, the doubt as to
which movement follows this or that sound withdrawing more and more. At
last the responsive movements followed without any remarkable strain of
attention. They became habitual.
Now and then, however, the movements are still confounded. Upon "no!
no!" follows the touching of the head; upon "please," the shaking of the
head; upon "rogue," the putting of the hands together, etc. These errors
become frequent when a new impression diverts the attention. They become
more and more rare through repetition of the right movements made for
the child to see and through guiding the limbs of the child. A further
evidence of the increased ability to learn toward the end of the month
is the fact that the hands are raised in the attitude of begging not
only at the command "Please," but also at the question, "How does the
good child behave?" Thus, the experience is beginning to become a
conscious one that, in order to obtain anything, the begging attitude is
useful.
The fifteenth month brought no new definite independent utterances of
sound with the exception of _wa_. Sensations and emotions, however, are
indicated more and more definitely and variously by sounds that are
inarticulate and sometimes unintelligible. Thus, astonishment is
expressed by _h[=a]-[=a] [)e][=a]-[)e]_; joy by vigorous crowing in very
high tones and more prolonged than before; further, very strong desire
by repeated _häö_, _hä-[)e]_; pain, impatience, by screaming in vowels
which pass over into one another.
The only word that is unquestionably used of the child's own motion to
indicate a class of perceptions is still _atta_, _ha-atta_, which during
the following month also is uttered softly, for the most part, on going
out, and which signifies "away" or "gone" (weg), and still continues to
be used also as it was in the eleventh month, when a light is dimmed (by
a lamp-shade). Beyond this no syllable can be named that marked the dawn
of mental independence, none that testified to the voluntary use of
articulate sounds for the purpose of announcing perceptions. For the
_brrr_, the frequent _dakkn_, _mamam_, _mömö_, and _papap_, are without
significance in the monologues. Even the saying of _atta_, with turning
of the head toward the person going away, has acquired the meaning of
"away" (fort) only through being repeatedly said to the child upon his
being carried out; but no one said the word when the lamp was
extinguished. Here has been in existence for some time not only the
formation of the concept, but also the designation of the concept by
syllables. The similarity in the very different phenomena of going away
and of the dimming of the light, viz., the disappearance of a visual
impression, was not only discovered, but was named by the child entirely
independently in the eleventh month, and has kept its name up to the
present time. He has many impressions; he perceives, he unites qualities
to make concepts. This he has been doing for a long time without words;
but only in this _one_ instance does the child express one of his
concepts in language after a particular instance had been thus named for
him, and then the word he uses is one not belonging to his later
language, but one that belongs to all children the world over.
In regard to the repeating of syllables pronounced to him a marked
advance is noticeable. The child can not, indeed, by any means repeat
_na_ and _pa_ and _o_ or _e_ and _be_. He answers _a_, _taï_,
_ta-a-o-ö-a_, and practices all sorts of tongue-and lip-exercises. But
the other syllables uttered by him, especially _anna_, _taï_, _dakkn_,
_a_, he says in response to any one who speaks them distinctly to him,
and he gives them easily and correctly in parrot fashion. If a new word
is said to him, e. g., "kalt" (cold), which he can not repeat, he
becomes vexed, turns away his head, and screams, too, sometimes. I have
been able to introduce into his vocabulary only one new word. In the
sixty-third week he seized a biscuit that had been dipped in hot water,
let it fall, drew down the corners of his mouth, and began to cry. Then
I said "heiss" (hot), whereupon the child, speedily quieted, repeated
_haï_ and _haï-s_ (with a just discernible _s_). Three days later the
same experiment was made. After this the _haïs_, _haïsses_, with
distinct _s_, was often heard without any occasion. Some days later I
wanted him to say "hand." The child observed my mouth closely, took
manifest pains, but produced only _ha-ïss_, then very distinctly _hass_
with sharp _ss_, and _ha-ith_, _hadith_, with the English _th_; at
another time distinctly _ha-its_. Thus, at a time when _ts_ = _z_ can
not be repeated, there exists the possibility of pronouncing _z_. When I
said to him "warm," _ass_ was pronounced with an effort and distinctly,
although the syllable _wa_ belonged to the child's stock of words. This
was evidently a recollection of the previous attempts to repeat "heiss"
and "hand."
Corresponding to this inability to say words after another's utterance
of them is an articulation as yet very imperfect. Still, there is
indication of progress in the distinctness of the _s_, the frequent
English _th_ with the thrusting out of the tip of the tongue between the
incisors, the _w_, which now first appears often, as well as in the
_smacking_ first heard in the sixty-fifth week (in contented mood). The
tongue is, when the child is awake, more than other muscles that in the
adult are subject to cerebral volition, almost always in motion even
when the child is silent. It is in various ways partly contracted,
extended, bent. The lateral bending of the edges of the tongue downward
and the turning back of the tip of the tongue (from left to right) so
that the lower surface lies upward, are not easily imitated by adults.
The mobility of my child's tongue is at any rate much greater than that
of my tongue, notwithstanding the fact that, in consequence of varied
practice from an early period in rapid speaking, the most difficult
performances in rapid speaking are still easily executed by mine. The
tongue is unquestionably the child's favorite plaything. One might
almost speak of a lingual delirium in his case, as in that of the
insane, when he pours forth all sorts of disconnected utterances,
articulate and inarticulate, in confusion; and yet I often saw his
tongue affected with fibrillar contractions as if the mastery of the
hypoglossus were not as yet complete. Quite similar fibrillar movements
seem to be made by the tongue in bulbar paralysis, and in the case of
dogs and guinea-pigs whose hypoglossus has been severed.
To the number of words heard that already produce a definite movement
are added the following new ones. The child is asked, "Where is the
moon? the clock? the eye? the nose?" and he raises an arm, spreads the
fingers, and looks in the proper direction. If I speak of "coughing," he
coughs; of "blowing," he blows; of "kicking," he stretches out his legs;
of "light," he blows into the air, or, if there is a lamp in sight,
toward that, looking at it meantime--a reminiscence of the blowing out
of matches and candles often seen by him. It requires great pains to get
from him the affirmative nod of the head at the spoken "ja, ja." Not
till the sixty-fourth week was this achieved by means of frequent
repetition and forcible direction, and the movement was but awkwardly
executed even later--months after. On hearing the "no, no," the negative
shake of the head now appeared almost invariably, and this was executed
as by adults without the least uncertainty.
The holding out of his hand at hearing "Give the hand," occurs almost
invariably, but is not to be regarded as a special case of understanding
of the syllable "give," for the word "hand" alone produces the same
result.
All these accomplishments, attained by regular training, do not afford
the least evidence of an understanding of what is commanded when the
sound-impression is converted into motor impulse. It is rather a matter
of the establishment of the recollection of the customary association of
both during the interval of deliberation. The words and muscular
contractions that belong together are less often confounded, and the
physiological part of the process takes less time, but its duration is
noticeably prolonged when the child is not quite well. He deliberates
for as much as twelve seconds when the question is asked him, "Where is
the rogue?" and then responds with the proper gesture (p. 115).
The sixteenth month brought few new articulate utterances of sound, none
associated with a definite meaning; on the other hand, there was a
marked progress in repeating what was said to the child, and especially
in the understanding of words heard.
Among the sounds of his own making are heard--along with the _hä!_
_hä-ö!_ _ha-[)e]!_ _h[)e]-[)e]!_ that even in the following months
often expresses desire, but often also is quite without meaning--more
seldom _hi_, _gö-gö_, _gö_, _f-pa_ (the _f_ for the first time),
_[(au]_, and more frequently _ta_, _dokkn_, _tá-ha_, _a-bwa-bwa_,
_b[)u][=a]-b[)u]-[=a]_, and, as if by accident, once among all sorts of
indefinable syllables, _dagon_. Further, the child--as was the case in
the previous month--likes to take a newspaper or a book in his hands and
hold the print before his face, babbling _ä-[)e]_, _ä-[)e]_, _ä-[)e]_,
evidently in imitation of the reading aloud which he has often observed.
By giving the command, "Read!" it was easy to get this performance
repeated. Besides this, it is a delight to the child to utter a
syllable--e. g., _bwa_ or _ma_--over and over, some six times in
succession, without stopping. As in the previous month, there are still
the whispered _attö_ and _hattö_, at the hiding of the face or of the
light, at the shutting of a fan, or the emptying of a soup-plate,
together with the _dakkn_, with the combinations of syllables made out
of _ta_, _pa_, _ma_, _na_, _at_, _ap_, _am_, _an_, and with _mömö_. The
_papa_ and _mama_ do not, however, express an exclusive relation to the
parents. Only to the questions, "Where is papa?" "Where is mamma?" he
points toward them, raising his hand with the fingers spread. Pain is
announced by loud and prolonged screaming; joy by short, high-pitched,
piercing crowing, in which the vowel _i_ appears.
Of isolated vowels, _a_ only was correctly repeated on command. Of
syllables, besides those of the previous month, _mö_ and _ma_; and here
the child's excessive gayety over the success of the experiment is
worthy of remark. He made the discovery that his parrot-like repetition
was a fresh source of pleasure, yet he could not for several weeks
repeat again the doubled syllables, but kept to the simple ones, or
responded with all sorts of dissimilar ones, like _attob_, or said
nothing. The syllable _ma_ was very often given back as _hömá_ and
_hömö_; _pa_ was never given back, but, as had been the case
previously, only _ta_ and _taï_ were the responses, made with great
effort and attention, and the visible purpose of repeating correctly. To
the word "danke," pronounced for him with urgency innumerable times, the
response is _dakkn_, given regularly and promptly, and this in the
following months also. If all persuasion failed, and the child were then
left to himself without any direction of his attention, then not
infrequently new imitations of sounds would be given correctly--e. g.,
when I said "bo"--but these, again, would no longer succeed when called
for. Indeed, such attempts often broke down utterly at once. Thus the
child once heard a hen making a piteous outcry, without seeing the
creature, and he tried in vain to imitate the sound, but once only, and
not again. On the other hand, he often succeeds in repeating correctly
movements of the tongue made for him to see, as the thrusting out of the
tongue between the lips, by reason of the extraordinary mobility of his
tongue and lips; he even tries to smack in imitation. The more frequent
partial contractions of the tongue, without attempts at speaking, are
especially surprising. On one side, toward the middle of the tongue,
rises a longitudinal swelling; then the edges are brought together, so
that the tongue almost forms a closed tube; again, it is turned
completely back in front. Such flexibility as this hardly belongs to the
tongue of any adult. Besides, the lips are often protruded a good deal,
even when this is not required in framing vocables.
The gain in the understanding of words heard is recognizable in this,
that when the child hears the appropriate word, he takes hold, with
thumb and forefinger, in a most graceful manner, of nose, mouth, beard,
forehead, chin, eye, ear, or touches them with the thumb. But in doing
this he often confounds ear and eye, chin and forehead, even nose and
ear. "O" serves in place of "Ohr" (ear); "Au" in place of "Auge" (eye).
In both cases the child soon discovered that these organs are in pairs,
and he would seize with the right hand the lobe of my left and of my
right ear alternately after I had asked "Ear?" How easily in such cases
a new sound-impression causes confusion is shown by the following fact:
After I had at one time pointed out one ear, and had said, "Other ear,"
I succeeded, by means of repetition, in getting him to point out this
other one also correctly every time. Now, then, the thing was to apply
what had been learned to the eye. When one eye had been pointed out, I
asked, "Where is the other eye?" The child grasped at an ear, with the
sight of which the sound "other" was now associated. Not till long after
(in the twentieth month) did he learn to apply this sound of himself to
different parts of the body. On the other hand, he understands perfectly
the significance of the commands, "Bring, fetch, give----"; he brings,
fetches, gives desired objects, in which case, indeed, the gesture and
look of the speaker are decisive; for, if these are only distinctly
apprehended, it does not make much difference which word is said, or
whether nothing is said.
In the seventeenth month, although no disturbance of the development
took place, there was no perceptible advance in the utterance of
thoughts by sounds, or in the imitation of syllables pronounced by
others, or in articulation, but there was a considerable increase of
the acoustic power of discrimination in words heard and of the memory
of sounds.
Of syllables original with the child, these are new: _Bibi_,
_nä-nä-nä_--the first has come from the frequent hearing of "bitte";
the last is an utterance of joy at meeting and an expression of the
desire to be lifted up. Otherwise, longing, abhorrence, pleasure and
pain, hunger and satiety, are indicated by pitch, accent, _timbre_,
intensity of the vocal sounds, more decidedly than by syllables. A
peculiar complaining sound signifies that he does not understand;
another one, that he does not wish. In place of _atta_, at the
change of location of an object perceived, comes often a _t-tó_ and
_höt-tó_, with the lips much protruded. But, when the child himself
wishes to leave the room, then he takes a hat, and says _atta_,
casting a longing look at his nurse, or repeatedly taking hold of
the door.
Of voluntary attempts to imitate sounds, the most noteworthy were the
efforts to give the noise heard on the winding of a time-piece, and to
repeat tones sung.
The associations of words heard with seen, tangible objects on the one
hand, and, on the other hand, with definite co-ordinated muscular
movements, have become considerably more numerous. Thus the following
are already correctly distinguished, being very rarely confounded: Uhr
(clock), Ohr (ear); Schuh (shoe), Stuhl (chair), Schulter (shoulder),
Fuss (foot); Stirn (forehead), Kinn (chin); Nase (nose), blasen (blow);
Bart (beard), Haar (hair); heiss (hot), Fleisch (meat).
In addition to the above, eye, arm, hand, head, cheek, mouth, table,
light, cupboard, flowers, are rightly pointed out.
The child so often obeys the orders he hears--"run," "kick," "lie
down," "cough," "blow," "bring," "give," "come," "kiss"--that when
he occasionally does not obey, the disobedience must be ascribed no
longer, as before, to deficient understanding, but to caprice, or,
as may be discerned beyond a doubt from the expression of his
countenance, to a genuine roguishness. Thus the spoken consonants
are at last surely recognized in their differences of sound.
In the eighteenth month this ability of the ear to discriminate, and
with it the understanding of spoken words, increases. "Finger, glass,
door, sofa, thermometer, stove, carpet, watering-pot, biscuit," are
rightly pointed out, even when the objects, which were at first touched,
or merely pointed at, along with loud and repeated utterance of those
words, are no longer present, but objects like them are present. Say
"Finger," and the child takes hold of his own fingers only; "Ofen"
(stove), then he invariably at first looks upward ("oben"). Besides the
earlier commands, the following are correctly obeyed: "Find, pick up,
take it, lay it down." Hand him a flower, saying, "Smell," and he often
carries it to his nose without opening his mouth.
The repeating of syllables spoken for him is still rare; "mamma" is
responded to by _ta_. The voluntary repeating of syllables heard by
chance is likewise rare; in particular, "jaja" is now repeated with
precision.
The _atta_, which used to be whispered when anything disappeared from
the child's field of vision, has changed to _tto_ and _t-tu_ and _ftu_,
with pouting of the lips.
In the monologues appear _näi_, _mimi_, _päpä_, _mimiä_, _pata_,
_rrrrr_, the last uvular and labial for minutes at a time. But these
meaningless utterances are simply signs of well-being in general, and
are gladly repeated from pleasure in the exercise of the tongue and
lips. The tongue still vibrates vigorously with fibrillar contractions
when it is at rest, the mouth being open.
Characteristic for this period is the precision with which the various
moods of feeling are expressed, without articulate sounds, by means of
the voice, now become very high and strong, in screaming and crowing,
then again in wailing, whimpering, weeping, grunting, squealing; so that
the mood is recognized by the voice better than ever before, especially
desire, grief, joy, hunger, willfulness, and fear. But this language can
not be represented by written characters.
The same holds good of the nineteenth month, in which bawling and
babbling are more rare, the spontaneous sound-imitations are more
frequent, the vocal cords are strained harder, the mechanism of
articulation works with considerably more ease; the understanding
and the retention of spoken words have perceptibly increased, but
no word of the child's own, used always in the same sense, is added.
When the child has thrown an object from the table to the floor, he
often follows it with his gaze and whispers, even when he does not know
he is observed, _atta_ or _t-ta_, which is here used in the same sense
with _tuff_ or _ft_ or _ftu_, for "fort" (gone).
When he had taken a newspaper out of the paper-basket and had spread it
on the floor, he laid himself flat upon it, holding his face close to
the print, and said--evidently of his own accord, imitating, as he had
done before, the reading aloud of the newspaper, which had often been
witnessed by him--repeating it for a long time in a monotonous voice,
_e-já-e-e-já nanana ána-ná-na atta-ána [=a]je-já s[=a]_; then he tore
the paper into many small pieces, and next turned the leaves of books,
uttering _pa-pa-ab ta hö-ö-[)e] mömömöm hö-ön[)e]_.
Such monologues are, however, exceptional at this period, the rule being
uniform repetitions of the same syllable, e. g., _habb habb habb habb
habbwa habbua_.
Screaming when water of 26° C. was poured over him in the bath
appeared, a few days after the first experiment of this sort, even
before the bathing, at sight of the tub, sponge, and water.
Previously, fear had only in very rare cases occasioned screaming,
now the _idea_ of the cold and wet that were to be expected was
enough to occasion violent screaming. After about three weeks of
daily bathing with water from 18 to 24° C., however, the screaming
decreased again. The experience that a pleasant feeling of warmth
succeeded, may have forced the recollection of the unpleasant
feeling into the background. But the screaming can not at all be
represented by letters; _ä_ and _ö_ do not suffice. The same is true
of the screaming, often prolonged, before falling asleep in the
evening, which occurs not seldom also without any assignable
occasion, the child making known by it his desire to leave the bed.
As this desire is not complied with, the child perceives the
uselessness of the screaming, and at length obeys the command, "Lie
down," without our employing force or expedients for soothing him.
How far the power of imitation and of articulation is developed, is
shown especially by the fact that now, at last, _pa_ is correctly
pronounced in response; in the beginning _ta_ was still frequently the
utterance, then _ba_, finally _pa_ almost invariably given correctly.
Further, these results were obtained:
Words said to him. Response.
bitte _bis_, _bits_, _bit_, _bets_, _beest_,
_be_, _bi_, _bit-th_ (Eng., _th_).
hart _hatt_, _att_, _haat_.
Fleisch _da-ich_, _daï-s-ch_, _daï-s-j_.
ma _mö_, _ma_.
In _bits_ appears with perfect distinctness (as already in the fifteenth
month) the very rare _ts_ = _z_. The "hart" was once only confounded
with "haar," and responded to by grasping at the hair. The _bits_ soon
served to add force to the putting together of the hands in the attitude
of begging; it is thus the first attempt at the employment of a German
word to denote a state of his own, and that the state of desire. The
other words said to him, and illustrated by touching and putting the
hands upon objects, could not be given by him in response. When he was
to say "weich" (soft), "kalt" (cold), "nass" (wet), he turned his head
away in repugnance, as formerly. To "nass" he uttered in reply, once
only, _na_. Smacking, when made for him, was imitated perfectly. The
early morning hours, in which the sensibility of the brain is at its
highest, are the best adapted to such experiments; but these experiments
were not multiplied, in order that the independent development might not
be disturbed.
The progress in the discrimination of words heard, and in the firm
retention of what has been repeatedly heard, is shown particularly in
more prompt obedience, whether in abstaining or in acting.
To the list of objects correctly pointed out upon request are added
"leg, nail, spoon, kettle," and others. It is noteworthy, too, that now,
if the syllables _pa_ and _ma_, or _papa_ and _mamma_, are prefixed to
the names of the known parts of the face and head, the child points
these out correctly; e. g., to the question "Where is Mamma-ear," the
child responds by taking hold of the ear of his mother, and to
"papa-ear," of that of his father; so with "nose, eye," etc. But if
asked for "mamma-beard," the child is visibly embarrassed, and finally,
when there is a laugh at his hesitation, he laughs too.
The old tricks, "How tall is the child?" and "Where is the little
rogue?" which have not been practiced for months past, have been
retained in memory, for when in the eighty-second week I brought out
both questions with urgency, the child bethought himself for several
seconds, motionless, then suddenly, after the first question, raised
both arms. After the other question he likewise considered for several
seconds, and then pointed to his head as he used to do. His _memory_ for
sound-impressions often repeated and associated with specific movements
is consequently good.
In the twentieth month there was an important advance to be recorded in
his manner of repeating what was said to him. Suddenly, on the five
hundred and eighty-fourth day, the child is repeating correctly and
without difficulty words of two syllables that consist either of two
like syllables--for the sake of brevity I will call these
_like-syllabled_--or of syllables the second of which is the reverse of
the first--such I call _reverse-syllabled_. Thus of the first class are
_papa_, _mama_, _bebe_, _baba_, _neinei_, _jaja_, _bobo_, _bubu_; of the
second class, _otto_, _enne_, _anna_; these are very frequently given
back quickly and faultlessly at this period, after the repetition of the
single syllables _pa_, _ma_, and others had gone on considerably more
surely than before, and the child had more often tried of himself to
imitate what he heard. These imitations already make sometimes the
impression of not being voluntary. Thus the child once--in the
eighty-third week--observed attentively a redstart in the garden for two
full minutes, and then imitated five or six times, not badly, the piping
of the bird, turning round toward me afterward. It was when he saw me
that the child first seemed to be aware that he had made attempts at
imitation at all. For his countenance was like that of one awaking from
sleep, and he could not now be induced to imitate sounds. After five
days the spectacle was repeated. Again the piping of the bird was
reproduced, and in the afternoon the child took a cow, roughly carved
out of wood, of the size of the redstart, made it move back and forth on
the table, upon its feet, and chirped now as he had done at sight of the
bird; _imagination_ was here manifestly much excited. The wooden animal
was to represent the bird, often observed in the garden, and nesting in
the veranda; and the chirping and piping were to represent its voice.
On the other hand, words of unlike syllables, like "Zwieback" (biscuit),
"Butterbrod," are either not given back at all or only in unrecognizable
fashion, in spite of their being pronounced impressively for him.
"Trocken" (dry) yields sometimes _tokk[)e]_, _tokko_, _otto_. Words of
one syllable also offer generally great difficulties of articulation:
thus "warm" and "weich" become _w[=a]i_, "kalt" and "hart" become
_hatt_. Although "bi" and "te" are often rightly given each by itself,
the child can not combine the two, and turns away with repugnance when
he is to reproduce "bi-te." The same thing frequently happens, still,
even with "mamma" and "papa." But the child, when in lively spirits,
very often pronounces of his own accord the syllables "bi" and "te"
together, preferring, indeed, _bidth_ (with English _th_) and _beet_ to
"bitte." In place of "adjö" (adieu) he gives back _ad[=e]_ and
_adj[=e]_. Nor does he succeed in giving back three syllables; e. g.,
the child says _papa_, but not "papagei", and refuses altogether to
repeat "gei" and "pagei." The same is true of "Gut," "Nacht," although
he of himself holds out his hand for "Gute Nacht."
When others laugh at anything whatsoever, the child laughs regularly
with them, a purely imitative movement.
It is surprising that the reproducing of what is said to him succeeds
best directly after the cold bath in the morning, when the child has
been screaming violently and has even been shivering, or when he is
still screaming and is being rubbed dry, and, as if resigned to his
fate, lies almost without comprehension. The will, it would seem, does
not intrude here as a disturbing force, and echolalia manifests itself
in its purity, as in the case of hypnotics. The little creature is
subdued and powerless. But he speedily recovers himself, and then it is
often quite hard to tell whether he _will_ not or _can_ not say the word
that is pronounced to him.
The _understanding of single words_, especially of single questions and
commands, is considerably more prompt than in the previous month.
Without there being any sort of explanation for it, this extraordinary
understanding is here, manifesting itself particularly when the child is
requested to fetch and carry all sorts of things. He has observed and
touched a great deal, has listened less, except when spoken to. All
training in tricks and performances, an evil in the modern education of
children hard to avoid, was, however, suppressed as far as possible, so
that the only new things were "making a bow" and "kissing the hand." The
child practices both of these toward the end of the month, without
direction, at coming and going. Many new objects, such as window, bed,
knife, plate, cigar, his own teeth and thumbs, are correctly pointed
out, if only the corresponding word is distinctly pronounced. Yet "Ofen"
and "oben" are still confounded.
To put into written form the syllables invented by the child
independently, and to get at a sure denotation of objects by them, is
exceedingly difficult, particularly when the syllables are merely
whispered as the objects are touched, which frequently occurs. At the
sight of things rolled noisily, especially of things whirling in a
circle, the child would utter _rodi_, _otto_, _rojo_, and like sounds,
in general, very indistinctly. Only _one_ new concept could with
certainty be proved to be associated with a particular sound. With
_d[=a]_ and _nd[=a]_, frequently uttered on the sudden appearance of a
new object in the field of vision, in a lively manner, loudly and with a
peculiarly demonstrative accent--also with _t[=a]_ and _nt[=a]_--the
child associates, beyond a doubt, existence, coming, appearing, shooting
forth, emerging, in contrast with the very often softly spoken,
whispered _atta_, _f-tu_, _tuff_, which signifies "away" or "gone." If I
cover my head and let the child uncover it, he laughs after taking off
the handkerchief, and says loudly _da_; if I leave the room, he says
_atta_ or _hätta_, or _ft_ or _t-ta_, generally softly; the last of
these, or else _hata_, he says if he would like to be taken out himself.
In the eighty-seventh week we went away on a journey, and on the
railway-train the child, with an expression of terror or of anxious
astonishment, again and again said _attah_, but without manifesting the
desire for a change of place for himself, even by stretching out his
arms.
Two words only--_papa_ for father, and _bät_ or _bit_ for "bitte," are,
besides, rightly applied of the child's own accord. The prolonged
screaming, from wantonness, of _n[=a]n[=a]n[=a]n[=a]_, _nom-nom_,
_h[=a]h[=a]_, _l[=a]l[=a]_, chiefly when running about, has no definite
meaning. The child exercises himself a good deal in loud outcry, as if
he wanted to test the power of his voice. These exercises evidently
give him great pleasure. Still the highest crowing tones are no longer
quite so high and piercing as they were formerly. The vocal cords have
become larger, and can no longer produce such high tones. The screaming
sounds of discontent, which continue to be repeated sometimes till
hoarseness appears, but rarely in the night, have, on the contrary, as
is the case with the shrill sounds of pain, scarcely changed their
character, _hä-e_, _hä-ä-ä-[)e]_, _[)e]_. They are strongest in the
bath, during the pouring on of cold water.
The child, when left to himself, keeps up all the time his loud readings
("Lesestudien"). He "reads" in a monotonous way maps, letters,
newspapers, drawings, spreading them out in the direction he likes, and
lies down on them with his face close to them, or holding the sheet with
his hands close to his face, and, as before, utters especially
vowel-sounds.
In the twenty-first month imitative attempts of this kind became more
frequent; but singularly enough the babbling--from the eighty-ninth week
on--became different. Before this time vowels were predominant, now more
_consonants_ are produced. When something is said for the child to
reproduce that presents insuperable difficulties of articulation, then
he moves tongue and lips in a marvelous fashion, and often says
_ptö-ptö_, _pt-pt_, and _verlapp_, also _dla-dla_, without meaning, no
matter what was the form of the word pronounced to him. In such practice
there often appears likewise a wilfulness, showing itself in
inarticulate sounds and the shaking of the head, even when it is merely
the repetition of easy like-syllabled words that is desired. Hence, in
the case of new words, it is more difficult than before, or is even
impossible to determine whether the child _will_ not or whether he _can_
not reproduce them. Words of unlike syllables are not repeated at all,
not even "bitte." In place of "danke" are heard _dang-gee_ and
_dank-kee_; the former favorite _dakkn_ is almost never heard. In most
of the attempts at sound imitation, the tendency to the doubling of
syllables is worthy of notice. I say "bi," and the answer is _bibi_;
then I say "te," and the answer is _te-te_. If I say "bi-te," the answer
is likewise _bibi_; a single time only, in spite of daily trial, the
answer was _bi-te_, as if by oversight.
This doubling of syllables, involuntary and surely contrary to the will
of the child, stands in remarkable contrast with the indolence he
commonly shows in reproducing anything said, even when the fault is not
to be charged to teasing, stubbornness, or inability. The child then
finds more gratification in other movements than those of the muscles of
speech. The babbling only, abounding in consonants, yields him great
pleasure, particularly when it is laughed at, although it remains wholly
void of meaning as language. Yet _bibi_, like _bäbä_, for "bitte," is
correctly used by the child of his own accord.
A new word, and one that gives notice of a considerable advance, is
the term used by the child when hungry and thirsty, for "milk" or
"food." He says, viz., with indescribable longing in his voice,
_mimi_, more rarely than before _mämä_ and _mömöm_ (page 85). The
first appellation was certainly taken from the often-heard "milk" by
imitation, and applied to biscuit and other kinds of food. If the
child, when he has eaten enough, is asked, "Do you want milk?" he
says without direction, _neinein_; he has thus grasped and turned to
use already the signification of the sound. The same is, perhaps,
true also of "ja." For previously, when I asked the child as he was
eating, "Does it taste good?" he was silent, and I would say, "Say
jaja," and this would be correctly repeated. But in the ninety-first
week he, of his own accord, answers the question with _jaja_--"yes,
yes." This, too, may rest simply on imitation, without a knowledge
of the meaning of the _ja_, and without an understanding of the
question; yet there is progress in the recollection of the
connection of the sound "schmeckt's" with _jaja_, the intermediate
links being passed over.
In other cases, too, the strength of the memory for sounds is plainly
manifested. To all questions of an earlier period, "Where is the
forehead, nose, mouth, chin, beard, hair, cheek, eye, ear, shoulder?"
the child now at once pointed correctly in every instance, although he
might not have answered them for anybody even once for two weeks. Only
the question, "Where is the thumb?" made him hesitate. But when the
thumb had been again shown to him (firmly pressed), he knew it, and from
that time pointed it out invariably without delay. To the question,
"Where is the eye?" he is accustomed to shut both eyes quickly at the
same time and to open them again, and then to point to my eye; to the
question, "Axel's eye?" he responds by pointing to his own; to the
question, "The other eye?" by pointing to the one not touched.
In the understanding of what is spoken astonishing progress has been
made--e. g., if I say, "Go, take the hat and lay it on the chair!" the
child executes the order without considering more than one or two
seconds. He knows the meaning of a great number of words that no one has
taught him--e. g., "whip, stick, match, pen." Objects of this sort are
surely distinguished by the child, for, upon receiving orders, he gets,
picks up, brings, lays down, gives these things each by itself.
This understanding of spoken words is the more surprising, as his
repetition of them continues still to be of a very rudimentary
character. With the exception of some interjections, especially
_j[=a][)e]_ as a joyous sound and of crowing sounds, also screaming
sounds, which, however, have become more rare, the child has but few
expressions of his own with a recognizable meaning; _ndä_, _ndä_, _da_
is demonstrative "da" ("there") at new impressions.
_Att_, _att_, _att_, is unintelligible, perhaps indicative of movement.
_Attah_ means "we are off" (upon setting out) and "I want to go" ("ich
will fort"); _tatass_, _tatass_ is unintelligible, possibly a
sound-imitation.
When traveling by rail the child tried several times to imitate the
hissing of the steam of the locomotive.
In the twenty-second month again there are several observations to
record, which show the progress in understanding, the strengthening of
the memory, and the greater facility in articulation. The child executes
the orders given him with surprising accuracy, although the words spoken
have not previously been impressed on him separately. Here, indeed, it
is essential to consider the looks and gestures of those who give the
orders; but the child also does what I request of him without looking
at me. Instances of confusion among the words known to him are also
perceptibly more rare. Once I asked him very distinctly, "Where's the
moon?" (Mond), and for answer the child pointed to his mouth (Mund). But
the error was not repeated.
The strength of the word-memory appears particularly in this, that all
the objects learned are more quickly pointed out on request than they
were previously, and the facility of articulation is perceived in the
multiplying of consonants in the monologues and in the frequent
spontaneous utterance of _pss_, _ps_, _ptsch_ (once), and _pth_ (Engl.).
The child says, without any occasion, _pa-ptl-dä_, _pt_, and gives a
loud greeting from a distance with _h[=aa]-ö_, with _ada_, and _ana_.
It seemed to me remarkable that the boy began several times without the
least incitement to _sing_ tolerably well. When I expressed my approval
of it, he sprang about, overjoyed. At one time he sang, holding his
finger on his tongue, first _rollo_, _rollo_, innumerable times, then
_mama_, _mama_, _mämä_, _mama_.
The progress in the sound-mechanism is most plainly discerned in the
greater certainty in reproducing what is spoken. Thus, "pst" is
correctly given, and of reverse-syllabled words, very accurately,
"anna, otto, alla, appa, enne"; of unlike-syllabled words, "lina,"
but still, notwithstanding many trials, not yet "bitte." _For the
first time three-syllabled words also, plainly pronounced to him,
were correctly given back_, viz., _a-mama_ and _a-pa-pa_, as the
child names his grandparents. Hitherto the vowels _e_, _i_, _o_,
_u_, could not be correctly given every time, but "a" could be so
given as before. When the reproduction of any new word that is too
hard is requested--e. g., "gute Nacht"--the child at this period
regularly answers _tap[)e]ta_, _p[)e]ta_, _pta_, and _ptö-ptö_, also
_rateratetat_, expressing thereby not merely his inability, but
also, sometimes roguishly, his disinclination to repeat.
_Ja ja_ and _nein nein_, along with _da_ and _bibi_ (with or without
folding of the hands, for "bitte"), and _mimi_, continue still to be the
only words taken from the language of adults that are used by the child
in the proper sense when he desires or refuses anything. Apart from
these appear inarticulate sounds, uttered even with the mouth shut. The
intense cry of pain, or that produced by cold or wet or by grief at the
departure of the parents (this with the accompaniment of abundant tears
and the drawing of the corners of the mouth far down), makes the
strongest contrast with the crowing for joy, particularly that at
meeting again.
The twenty-third month brought at length _the first spoken judgment_.
The child was drinking milk, carrying the cup to his mouth with both
hands. The milk was too warm for him, and he set the cup down quickly
and said, loudly and decidedly, looking at me with eyes wide open and
with earnestness, _heiss_ (hot). This single word was to signify "The
drink is too hot!" In the same week, at the end of the ninety-ninth, the
child of his own accord went to the heated stove, took a position before
it, looked attentively at it, and suddenly said with decision, _hot_
(_heiss_)! Again, a whole proposition in a syllable. In the sixty-third
week for the first time the child had reproduced the word "hot"
pronounced to him. Eight and a half months were required for the step
from the imitative _hot_ to the independent _hot_ as expressive of his
judgment. He progressed more rapidly with the word "Wasser," which was
reproduced as _watja_, and was called out longingly by the thirsty child
a few weeks afterward. He already distinguishes water and milk in his
own fashion as _watja_ and _mimi_. Yet _mimmi_, _mömö_, and _m[=a]m[=a]_
still signify food in general, and are called out often before
meal-times by the impatient and hungry child. The primitive word _atta_
is likewise frequently uttered incidentally when anything disappears
from the child's field of vision or when he is himself carried away. The
other sound-utterances of this period proceeding from the child's own
impulse are interesting only as exercises of the apparatus of
articulation. Thus, the child not seldom cries aloud _oi_ or _eu_
(_äu_); further, unusually loud, _ana_, and for himself in play, _ida_,
_didl_, _dadl_, _dldo-dlda_, and in singing tone _opojö_, _apojopojum
aui_, _heissa_. With special pleasure the child, when talking to
himself, said _papa_, _mama_, _mämä_, _mimi_, _momo_, of his own accord,
but not "mumu"; on the other hand, _e-mama-ma-memama_, _mi_, _ma_, _mö_,
_ma_. His grandparents he now regularly designates by _e-papa_ and
_e-mama_. He knows very well who is meant when he is asked, "Where is
grandmamma? Grandpapa?" And several days after leaving them, when asked
the question, e. g., on the railway-train, he points out of the window
with a troubled look. The understanding of words heard is, again, in
general more easy. The child for the most part obeys at once when I say,
"drink, eat, shut, open, pick it up, turn around, sit, run!" Only the
order "come!" is not so promptly executed, not, however, on account of
lack of understanding, but from willfulness. That the word-memory is
becoming firm is indicated particularly by the circumstance that now the
separate parts of the face and body are pointed out, even after pretty
long intervals, quickly and upon request, on his own person and that of
others. When I asked about his beard, the child (after having already
pointed to my beard), in visible embarrassment, pointed with his
forefinger to the place on his face corresponding to that where he saw
the beard on mine, and moved his thumb and forefinger several times as
if he were holding a hair of the beard between them and pulling at it,
as he had had opportunity to do with mine. Here, accordingly, memory and
imagination came in as supplementary to satisfy the demand made by the
acoustic image.
The greatest progress is to be recorded in this month in regard to the
reproduction of syllables and words. A perfecting of the process is
apparent in the fact that when anything is said for him to repeat, his
head is not turned away in unwillingness so often as before, in case the
new word said to him is too difficult, nor are all sorts of incoherent,
complicated sounds (_paterateratte_) given forth directly upon the first
failure of the attempt at imitation. Thus, the following words were at
this period, without systematic exercises, incidentally picked up (give,
as before, the German pronunciation to the letters):
Spoken to him. Reproduced.
Ohr, _Oa(r)_.
Tisch, _Tiss_.
Haus, _Hausesess_.
Hemd, _Hem_.
Peitsche, _Paitsch_, _Paitse_.
Wasser, _Wass_, _Watja_.
Hand, _Hann_.
Heiss, _Haïss_.
Auge, _Autschge_.
Butter, _Buotö_.
Eimer, _Aïma_.
Bitte, _Bete_, _Bite_.
Blatt, _Batn_.
Tuch, _Tuhs_.
Papier, _Patn_, _Paï_.
Fort, _Wott_.
Vater, _Fa-ata_.
Grete, _Deete_.
Karl, _Kara_.
Alle, _Alla_.
Alle, _Alla_.
Mund, _Munn_.
Finger, _Finge_.
Pferd, _Pfowed_, _Fowid_.
Gute Nacht, _Nag-ch Na_.
Guten Tag, _Tatách_.
Morgen, _Moigjen_.
Axel, _Akkes_, _Aje_, _Eja_.
The four words, _Paitsch_ or _Paitse_, _Bite_, _Watja_, and _Haïss_, are
uttered now and then by the child without being said to him, and their
use has regard to the meaning contained in them. His whip and his pail
he learned to name quickly and correctly. His own name, Axel, on the
contrary, he designates by the favorite interjections _Aje_, _Eja_. On
the whole, variety of articulation is on the increase as compared with
the previous month, but the ability to put syllables together into words
is still but little developed. Thus, e. g., the child reproduces quite
correctly "je," and "ja," and "na." But if any one says to him "Jena" or
"Jana," the answer runs regularly _nena_ or _nana_, and only
exceptionally, as if by chance, _jena_. Further, he repeats correctly
the syllables "bi" and "te" when they are given to him, and then also
_bi-te_; afterward, giving up the correct imitation, he says _beti_, but
can not reproduce _ti-be_ or _tebi_. "Bett, Karre, Kuk," are correctly
repeated.
Finally, echolalia, not observed of late, appears again. If the child
hears some one speak, he often repeats the last syllable of the sentence
just finished, if the accent were on it--e. g., "What said the man?"
_man_; or "Who is there?" _there?_ "Nun?" (now) _nou_ (_n[=oo]_). Once
the name "Willy" was called. Immediately the child likewise called
_[)u]il[=e]_, with the accent on the last syllable, and repeated the
call during an hour several dozens of times; nay, even several days
later he entertained himself with the stereotyped repetition. Had not
his first echo-play produced great merriment, doubtless this monotonous
repetition would not have been kept up. In regard to the preference of
one or another word the behavior of those about the child is not merely
influential, but is alone decisive. I observed here, as I had done
earlier, that urgent exhortations to repeat a new word have generally a
much worse result than is obtained by leaving the child to himself. The
correct, or at any rate the best, repetitions were those made when the
child was not spoken to. Even adults can imitate others in their manner
of speaking, their dialect, even their voice, much better when not
called upon to do it, but left entirely to their own inclination. The
wish or command of others generates an embarrassment which disturbs the
course of the motor processes. I resolved, consequently, to abandon in
the following month all attempts to induce the child to reproduce
sounds, but to observe so much the more closely what he might say of his
own accord.
In the last month of the second year of his life this leaving of him to
himself proved fruitful in results to this extent--that voluntary
sound-imitations gained considerably in frequency and accuracy.
Particularly, genuine echolalia manifested itself more at this period in
the repeating of the last syllables of sentences heard, the meaning of
which remained unintelligible to the child; and of single words, the
sense of which became gradually clear to him by means of accompanying
gestures. Thus, the word "Herein!" (Come in!) was repeated as an empty
sound, and then _arein_, _harrein_, _haarein_, were shouted strenuously
toward the door, when the child wanted to be let in; _ab_ (off) was
uttered when a neck-ribbon was to be loosened. _Moigen_ signified "Guten
Morgen!" _na_, "Gute Nacht!" To the question, "Was thun wir morgen?"
(What shall we do to-morrow?) comes the echo-answer _moigen_. In
general, by far the greater part of the word-imitations are much
distorted, to strangers often quite unintelligible. _Ima_ and _Imam_
mean "Emma," _dakkngaggngaggn_ again means "danke," and _betti_ still
continues to signify "bitte." Only with the utmost pains, after the
separate syllables have been frequently pronounced, appear _dang[=ee]_
and _bitt[=ee]_. An apple (Apfel) is regularly named _apfel[=ee]l[=ee]_
(from Apfelgelée); a biscuit (Zwieback), _wita_, then _wijak_; butter,
on the contrary, is often correctly named. Instead of "Jawohl," the
child almost invariably says _wolja_; for "Licht" _list_ and _lists_;
for "Wasser," _watja_ still as before; for "pfui" he repeats, when he
has been awkward, _[=u]i_, and often adds a _pott_ or _putt_ in place of
"caput." "Gut" is still pronounced _[=u]t_ or _tut_, and "fort," _okk_
or _ott_. All the defects illustrated by these examples are owing rather
to the lack of flexibility in the apparatus of articulation--even
stammering, _tit-t-t-t_, in attempting to repeat "Tisch," appears--than
to imperfect ability to apprehend sounds. For the deficiency of
articulation shows itself plainly when a new word is properly used, but
pronounced sometimes correctly and sometimes incorrectly. Thus, the
"tsch" hitherto not often achieved (twentieth month), and the simple
"sch" in _witschi_ and _wesch_, both signifying "Zwetschen," are
imperfect, although both sounds were long ago well understood as
commands to be silent, and Zwetschen (plums) have been long known to the
child. Further, the inability to reproduce anything is still expressed
now and then by _raterateratera_; the failure to understand, rather by a
peculiar dazed expression of countenance, with an inquiring look.
With regard to the independent application of all the words repeated, in
part correctly, in part with distortions, a multiplicity of meanings is
especially noteworthy in the separate expressions used by the child. The
primitive word _atta_, used with uncommon frequency, has now among
others the following significations: "I want to go; he is gone; she is
not here; not yet here; no longer here; there is nothing in it; there is
no one there; it is empty; it is nowhere; out there; go out." To the
question "Where have you been?" the child answers, on coming home,
_atta_, and when he has drunk all there was in the glass, he likewise
says _atta_. The concept common to all the interpretations adduced,
"gone," seems to be the most comprehensive of all that are at the
child's disposal. If we choose to regard a word like this _atta_ as
having the force of a whole sentence, we may note many such primitive
sentences in this month. Thus, _mann_ means, on one occasion, "A man has
come," then almost every masculine figure is named _mann_; _auff_,
accompanied with the offering of a key, signifies the wish for the
opening of a box, and is cried with animation after vain attempts to
open a watch. The concepts "male being" and "open" are thus not only
clear, but are already named with the right words. The distinguishing of
men from women appears for months past very strikingly in this, that the
former only are greeted by reaching out the hand. The manifold meaning
of a single word used as a sentence is shown particularly in the cry of
_papa_, with gestures and looks corresponding to the different meanings
of it. This one word, when called out to his father, means (1) "Come
play with me"; (2) "Please lift me up"; (3) "Please give me that"; (4)
"Help me get up on the chair"; (5) "I can't," etc.
The greatest progress, however, is indicated by the _combination of two
words_ into a sentence. The first sentence of this sort, spoken on the
seven hundred and seventh day of his life at the sight of the house that
was his home, was _haim_, _mimi_, i. e., "I would like to go home and
drink milk." The second was _papa_, _mimi_, and others were similar.
Contrasted with these first efforts at the framing of sentences, the
earlier meaningless monologues play only a subordinate part; they
become, as if they were the remains of the period of infancy, gradually
rudimentary: thus, _pipapapaï_, _breit_, _baraï_. A more important fact
for the recognition of progress in speaking is that the words are often
_confounded_, e. g., _watja_ and _buotö_ (for _butter_). In gestures
also and in all sorts of performances there are bad cases of confusion
almost every day; e. g., the child tries to put on his shoes, holding
them with the heel-end to his toes, and takes hold of the can out of
which he pours the milk into his cup by the lip instead of the handle.
He often affirms in place of denying. His joy is, however, regularly
expressed by loud laughing and very high tones; his grief by an
extraordinarily deep depression of the angles of the mouth and by
weeping. Quickly as this expression of countenance may pass over into a
cheerful one--often on a sudden, in consequence of some new
impression--no confusion of _these_ two _mimetic_ movements takes place.
In the first month of the third year of life the progress is
extraordinary, and it is only in regard to the articulatory mechanism
that no important new actions are to be recorded. The child does not
pronounce a perfect "u," or only by chance. Generally the lips are not
enough protruded, so that "u" becomes "ou"; "Uhr" and "Ohr" often sound
almost the same. The "i" also is frequently mixed with other
vowel-sounds, particularly with "e." Probably the corners of the mouth
are not drawn back sufficiently. With these exceptions the vowels of the
German language now offer hardly any difficulties. Of the consonants,
the "sch" and "cht" are often imperfect or wanting. "Waschtisch" is
regularly pronounced _waztiz_, and "Gute Nacht" _gna_.
The sound-imitations of every kind are more manifold, eager, and
skillful than ever before. Once the child even made a serious attempt to
reproduce ten words spoken in close succession, but did not succeed. The
attempt proves all the same that the word-imitation is now far beyond
the lower echo-speech; yet he likes to repeat the last words and
syllables of sentences heard by him even in the following months. Here
belongs his saying _so_ when any object is brought to the place
appointed for it. When the reproduction is defective, the child shows
himself to be now much more amenable to correction. He has become more
teachable. At the beginning of the month he used to say, when he wanted
to sit, _ette_ then _etse_, afterward _itse_; but he does not yet in the
present month say "setzen" or "sitzen." Hitherto he could repeat
correctly at the utmost two words said for him. Now he repeats three,
and once even four, imperfectly: _papa_, _beene_, _delle_, means "Papa,
Birne, Teller," and is uttered glibly; but "Papa, Birne, Teller, bitte,"
or "Papa, Butter, bitte," is not yet repeated correctly, but _pata_,
_butte_, _betti_, and the like; only very seldom, in spite of almost
daily trial, _papa_, _beene_, _delle_, _bittee_.
Evidence of the progress of the memory, the understanding, and the
articulation, is furnished in the answers the child gave when I asked
him, as I touched various objects, "What is that?" He replied:
_Autse_, for Auge (eye).
_Nana_, " Nase (nose).
_Ba_, " Backe (back).
_Baat_, " Bart (beard).
_Oë, Oa_, " Ohr (ear).
_Opf_, " Kopf (head).
_Tenn_, " Kinn (chin).
_Täne_, " Zähne (teeth).
_Hai_, " Haar (hair).
_Ulter_, " Schulter (shoulder).
_Aam_, " Arm (arm).
_Ann_, " Hand (hand).
_Wiër_, " Finger (finger).
_Daima_, " Daumen (thumb).
_Anu_, " Handschuh (glove).
_Baïn_, " Bein (leg).
But not one word has the child himself invented. When a new expression
appears it may be surely traced to what has been heard, as _uppe_,
_oppee_, _appee_, _appei_, to "Suppe." The name alone by which he calls
on his nurse, _wolá_, seemed hard to explain. If any one says, "Call
Mary," the child invariably calls _wolá_. It is probable, as he used to
call it _wolja_, that the appellation has its origin in the often-heard
"ja wohl."
The correct use of single words, picked up, one might say, at random,
increases in a surprising manner. Here belong _baden_, _reiputtse_, for
"Reissuppe," _la-ock_ for "Schlafrock," _boter_ for "Butter,"
_Butterbrod_, _Uhr_, _Buch_, _Billerbooch_ for "Bilderbuch." In what
fashion such words now incorporated into the child's vocabulary are
employed is shown by the following examples: _Tul_ (for "Stuhl")
means--(1) "I should like to be lifted up on the chair; (2) My chair is
gone; (3) I want this chair brought to the table; (4) This chair doesn't
stand right." If the chair or other familiar object is broken, then it
is still styled _putt_ (for "caput," gone to smash); and if the child
has himself broken anything he scolds his own hand, and says _oi_ or
_oui_, in place of "pfui" (fie)! He wants to write to his grandmother,
and asks for _Papier_, a _daitipf_ (for "Bleistift," pencil), and says
_raiwe_ (for "schreiben," write).
That misunderstandings occur in such beginnings of speech seems a matter
of course. All that I observed, however, were from the child's
standpoint rational. Some one says, "Schlag das Buch auf" (Open the
book, but meaning literally "Strike upon the book"), and the child
strikes upon the book with his hands without opening it. He does the
same when one says, "Schlag auf das Buch" (Strike upon the book). Or we
say, "Will you come? one, two!" and the child, without being able to
count, answers, "Three, four." He has merely had the sequence 1, 2, 3,
4, said over to him frequently. But, on the whole, his _understanding_
of words heard, particularly of commands, has considerably advanced; and
how far the reasoning faculty has developed is now easily seen in his
independent designations for concepts. For example, since his delight at
gifts of all sorts on his birthday, he says _burtsa_ (for Geburtstag,
birthday) when he is delighted by anything whatever. Another instance of
childish induction was the following: The child's hand being slightly
hurt, he was told to blow on his hand and it would be better. He did
blow on his hand. In the afternoon he hit his head against something,
and he began at once to blow of his own accord, supposing that the
blowing would have a soothing effect, even when it did not reach the
injured part.
In the forming of sentences considerable progress is to be recorded. Yet
only once has the child joined more than four words in a sentence, and
rarely three. His sentences consisting of two words, which express a
fact of the present or of the immediate past, are often, perhaps
generally, quite unintelligible to strangers. Thus, _danna kuha_
signifies "Aunt has given me cake"; _Kaffee naïn_, "There is no coffee
here"; and _mama etsee_ or _etse_ is intelligible only by means of the
accompanying gesture as the expression of the wish, "Mamma, sit by me."
_Helle pumme_ signifies the wish to help (_helfen_) in pumping, and is
uttered at the sight of persons pumping water.
The following sentence consisting of five words is particularly
characteristic of this period, because it exhibits the first attempt to
relate a personal experience. The child dropped his milk-cup and related
_mimi atta teppa papa oï_, which meant "Milch fort [auf den] Teppich,
Papa [sagte] pfui." (Milk gone [on] carpet, Papa [said] "Fie!") The
words adopted by the child have often a very different meaning from that
which they have in the language of adults, being not entirely
misunderstood but peculiarly interpreted by the imitator. Thus,
pronouns, which are not for a long time yet understood in their true
sense, signify objects themselves or their qualities. _Dein bett_ means
"the large bed."
In the twenty-sixth month a large picture-book, with good colored
pictures, was shown to the child by me every day. Then he himself would
point out the separate objects represented, and those unknown to him
were named to him, and then the words were repeated by him. Thus were
obtained the following results:
Said to him. His imitation.
Blasebalg (bellows), _ba-a-bats_, _blasabalitz_.
Saugflasche (nursing-bottle), _augflaze_.
Kanone (cannon), _nanone_.
Koffer (trunk), _towwer_, _toffer_, _pfoffa_,
_poffa_, _toff-wa_.
Fuchs (fox), _fuhts_.
Kaffeekanne (coffee-urn), _taffeetanne_, _pfafee-tanne_.
Frosch (frog), _frotz_.
Klingel (bell), _linli_ (learned as _ingeling_
and _linlin_).
Besen (broom), _b[=e]sann_, _beedsen_,
_beedsenn_.
Stiefel (boot), _tiefel_, _stibbell_, _tihbell_,
_tibl_.
Nest (nest), _netz_.
Storch (stork), _toich_.
Giesskanne (watering-pot), _tietstanne_, _ihtstanne_,
_ziesstanne_.
Fisch (fish), _fiz_.
Zuckerhut (sugar-loaf), _ukkahut_.
Vogel (bird), _wodal_.
Kuchen (cake), _tuche_, _tuch[=e]n_ (hitherto
_kuha_).
Licht (light), _lihts_, _lits_.
Schlitten (sled), _lita_, _litta_.
Tisch (table), _tiss_.
Nuss (nut), _nuhuss_, _nuss_.
Kaffeetopf (coffee-pot), _poffee-topf_.
Hund (dog), _und_.
Brief (letter), _dief_.
Elephant, _elafant_.
Fledermaus (bat), _lebamaunz_, _fleedermauz_.
Kamm (comb), _damm_, _lamm_, _namm_.
Schwalbe (swallow), _baubee_.
Staar (starling), _tahr_.
Of his own accord the child pointed out with certainty in the
picture-book--
_häm_, _hä-em_, _hemm_ for Helm (helmet).
_hörz_ " Hirsch (stag).
_tawell_ " Tafel (table).
_lompee_, _lamp['=e]_ " Lampe (lamp).
_lotz_ " Schloss (castle).
_benne_ " Birne (pear).
_torb_ " Korb (basket).
_onne-erm_ " Sonnenschirm (parasol).
_flatse_ " Flasche (bottle).
_wetsa_ " Zwetschen (plums).
_clawelier_ " Clavier (piano).
_littl_, _litzl_, _lützl_ " Schlüssel (key).
_löwee_ " Löwe (lion).
_ofa_ " Ofen (stove).
_[=u][)a]_ " Uhr (watch).
_tint_, _kint_ " Kind (child).
_naninchä_ " Kaninchen (rabbit).
_manne_ " Pfanne (pan).
_tomml_, _tromml_ " Trommel (drum).
_tuhl_ " Stuhl (chair).
With these words, the meaning of which the child knows well, though he
does not yet pronounce them perfectly, are to be ranked many more which
have not been taught him, but which he has himself appropriated Thus,
_tola_ for Kohlen (coals), _dals_ for Salz (salt). Other words
spontaneously appropriated are, however, already pronounced correctly
and correctly used, as _Papier_ (paper), _Holz_ (wood), _Hut_ (hat),
_Wagen_ (carriage), _Teppich_ (carpet), _Deckel_ (cover), _Milch_,
_Teller_ (often _tell[)e]_), _Frau_, _Mann_, _Mäuse_. These cases form
the minority, and are striking in the midst of the manifold mutilations
which now constitute the child's speech. Of these mutilations some are,
even to his nearest relatives who are in company with the child every
day, unintelligible or only with great pains to be unriddled. Thus, the
child calls himself _Attall_ instead of Axel; says also _rräus Atsl_ for
"heraus Axel," i. e., "Axel wants to go out." He still says _bita_ for
"bitte," and often _mima_ or _mami_ for Marie; _apf_ for "Apfel." The
numerous mutilations of the words the child undertakes to speak are not
all to be traced to defect of articulation. The "sch" is already
perfectly developed in _Handschuh_; and yet in other words, as appears
from the above examples, it is either simply left out or has its place
supplied by _z_ and _ss_. Further, it sounds almost like wantonness when
frequently the surd consonant is put in place of the sonant one or _vice
versa_; when, e. g., _puch_ (for Buch) _pücherr_ is said on the one
hand, and _wort_ instead of "fort" on the other. Here belongs likewise
the peculiar staccato manner of uttering the syllables, e. g.,
_pil-ter-puch_ (Bilder-buch--picture-book). At other times is heard a
hasty _billerbuch_ or _pillerpuch_.
The babbling monologues have become infrequent and more of a play with
words and the syllables of them, e. g., in the frequently repeated
_papa-[)u]-á-[)u]a_.
On the other hand, independent thoughts expressed by words are more and
more multiplied. Here is an example: The child had been extraordinarily
pleased by the Christmas-tree. The candles on it had been lighted for
three evenings. On the third evening, when only one of its many lights
was burning, the child could not leave it, but kept taking a position
before it and saying with earnest tone, _gunná-itz-boum_, i. e., "Gute
nacht, Christbaum!" The most of his sentences still consist of two
words, one of which is often a verb in the infinitive. Thus, _helle
mama_, _helle mami_, i. e., "helfen (help) Mama, Marie!" and _bibak
tommen_, i. e., "der Zwieback soll kommen" (let the biscuit come); or
_tsee machen_ (make _c_)--on the piano the keys _c_, _d_, _e_, had often
been touched separately by the little fingers accidentally, and the
applause when in response to the question, "Where is _c_?" the right key
was touched, excited the wish for repetition; _roth_, _drün machen_
(make red or green)--the child was instructed by me in the naming of
colors; and _dekkn pilen_, i. e., "Verstecken spielen" (play hide and
seek). In quite short narratives, too, the verbs appear in the
infinitive only. Such accounts of every-day occurrences--important to
the child, however, through their novelty--are in general falling into
the background as compared with the expression of his wishes in words as
in the last-mentioned cases. Both kinds of initiatory attempts at
speaking testify more and more plainly to awakening intellect, for, in
order to use a noun together with a verb in such a way as to correspond
to a wish or to a fact experienced, there must be added to the imitation
of words heard and to the memory of them something which adapts the
sense of them to the outward experiences at the time and the peculiar
circumstances, and associates them with one another. This something is
the intellect. In proportion as it grows, the capacity for being taught
tricks decreases and the child is already ashamed to answer by means of
his former gestures the old questions, "Where is the little rogue?" "How
tall?" etc.
But how far from the intellect of the older child is that of the child
now two years and two months old appears from this fact, that the latter
has not the remotest notion of number. He repeats mechanically, many
times over, the words said for him, _one_, _two_, _three_, _four_,
_five_; but when objects of the same sort are put before him in groups,
he confounds all the numbers with one another in spite of countless
attempts to bring the number 2 into firm connection with the sound two,
etc. Nor does he as yet understand the meaning of the frequently
repeated "danke" (thanks), for, when the child has poured out milk for
himself, he puts down the pitcher and says _dankee_.
One more remark is to be made about the names of animals. These names
are multiplying in this period, which is an important one in regard to
the genesis of mind. Ask, "What is the animal called?" and the answer
runs, _mumu_, _kikeriki_, _bauwau_, _piep-piep_, and others. No trace of
onomatopoetic attempts can be discovered here. The child has received
the names pronounced to him by his nurse and has retained them; just so
_hotto_ for "Pferd" (horse), like _lingeling_ for "Klingel" (bell). None
the less every healthy child has a strong inclination to onomatopeia.
The cases already reported prove the fact satisfactorily. The echolalia
that still appears now and then really belongs to this. Inasmuch as in
general in every onomatopoetic attempt we have to do with a
sound-imitation or the reproducing of the oscillations of the tympanum
as nearly as possible by means of the vocal cords, all attempts of the
speechless child to speak are ultimately of onomatopoetic character in
the earliest period; but from the present time on sound-imitation
retires before the reasoning activity, which is now shooting forth
vigorously in the childish brain.
In the twenty-seventh month the activity of thought manifests itself
already in various ways. The independent ideas, indeed, move in a
narrowly limited sphere, but their increasing number testifies to the
development of the intellect. Some examples may be given:
The child sees a tall tree felled, and he says as it lies upon the
ground, _pick up_! Seeing a hole in a dressing-gown, he says,
_nä[)e]n_ (sew)! In his play he sometimes says to himself, _dib
acht_ (take care)! To the question, "Did it taste good?" the child
answers while still eating, _mekk noch_ (schmeckt noch), "It _does_
taste good," thus distinguishing the past in the question from the
present. The development of observation and _comparison_ is
indicated by the circumstance that salt is also called _sand_. On
the other hand, the feeling of gratitude is as yet quite
undeveloped. The child, as in the previous month, says _dankee_ to
himself when, e. g., he has opened his wardrobe-door alone. The word
is thus as yet unintelligible to him, or it is used in the sense of
"so" or "succeeded." His frequent expressions of pity are striking.
When dolls are cut out of paper, the child weeps violently in the
most pitiful manner, for fear that in the cutting a head (_Topf_)
may be taken off. This behavior calls to mind the cries of _arme
wiebak_ (armer Zwieback--poor biscuit)! when a biscuit is divided,
and _arme holz_ (poor wood)! when a stick of wood is thrown into the
stove. Nobody has taught the child anything of that sort.
The independent observations which he expresses correctly but very
briefly in a form akin to the style of the telegraphic dispatch are
now numerous, e. g.:
_Tain milch_: There is no milk here.
_Lammee aus_, _lampee aus_: The flame, the lamp, is gone out.
_Dass la-okk_: That is the dressing-gown (Schlafrock).
_Diss nicht la-okk_: This is not the dressing-gown.
His wishes the child expresses by means of _verbs_ in the infinitive or
of substantives alone. Thus, _papa auf-tehen_ (papa, get up),
_frü-tükken_ (breakfast), _aus-taigen_ (get out), _nicht blasen_ (not
blow--in building card-houses), _pieldose aufziehn_ (wind up the
music-box), and _biback_ (I should like a biscuit). Into these sentences
of one, two, and three words there come, however, single adverbs not
before used and indefinite pronouns, like _[=e][=e]n_ and _[)e]_ in
_tann [=e][=e]n nicht_ or _tann[)e] nicht_, for "kann _er_ nicht" or
"kann _es_ nicht." _Butter drauf_ (butter on it), _Mama auch tommen_
(mamma come, too), _noch mehr_ (more), _blos Wasser_ (only water),
_hier_ (here), are the child's own imperatives. _Schon wieder_ (again)
he does indeed say of his own accord on fitting occasions; but here he
is probably repeating mechanically what he has heard. In all, the
forming of a word that had not been heard as such, or that had not come
from what had been heard through mutilation, has been surely proved in
only a single instance. The child, viz., expressed the wish (on his
seven hundred and ninety-sixth day) to have an apple pared or cut up, by
means of the word _messen_. He knows a knife (Messer) and names it
rightly, and while he works at the apple with a fork or a spoon or
anything he can get hold of, or merely points at it with his hand, he
says repeatedly _messen_! Only after instruction did he say _Messer
neiden_ (mit dem Messer schneiden--cut with the knife). Here for the
first time a wholly new word is formed. The concept and the word "knife"
("Messer") and the concept, "work with the knife," were present, but the
word "schneiden" (cut) for the last was wanting, as also was "schälen"
(pare). Hence, both in one were named _messen_ (for "messern," it may
be). The two expressions that used to be heard many times daily, the
name _wolà_ for the nurse Mima (Mary) and _atta_, have now almost
disappeared. _Atta wesen_ for "draussen gewesen" (been out) is still
used, it is true, but only seldom. In place of it come now _weg_,
_fort_, _aus_, and _allall_, in the sense of "empty," "finished." The
too comprehensive, too indefinite concept _atta_ has broken up into more
limited and more definite ones. It has become, as it were,
differentiated, as in the embryo the separate tissues are differentiated
out of the previously apparently homogeneous tissue.
In the period of rapid development now attained, the child daily
surprises us afresh by his independent applications of words just heard,
although many are not correctly applied, as _tochen haiss_ (boiling
hot), said not only of the milk, but also of the fire.
When words clearly comprehended are used in a different sense from that
in which adults use them--_incorrectly_ used, the latter would
say--there is, however, no _illogical_ employment of them on the part of
the child. For it is always the fact, as in the last example, that the
concept associated with the word is taken in a more extended sense. The
very young child infers a law from a few, even from two observations,
which present some agreement only in one respect, and that perhaps a
quite subordinate respect. He makes inductions without deliberation. He
has heard milk called "boiling hot," he feels its warmth, and then feels
the warmth of the stove, consequently the stove also is "boiling hot";
and so in other cases. This logical activity, the _inductive_ process,
now prevails. The once favorite monologues, pure, meaningless exercises
of articulation, of voice and of hearing, are, on the contrary, falling
off. The frequent repetition of the same syllable, also of the same
sentence (_lampee aus_), still survives particularly in animated
expressions of wish, _erst essen_ (first eat), _viel milch_ (much milk),
_mag-e-nicht_ (don't like it). Desire for food and for playthings makes
the child loquacious, much more than dislike does, the latter being more
easily manifested by means of going away, turning around, turning away.
The child can even beg on behalf of his carved figures of animals and
men. Pointing out a puppet, he says _tint aïn tikche apfl!_ Für das kind
_ein_ Stückchen Apfel! (A bit of apple for the child.)
Notwithstanding these manifold signs of a use of words that is beginning
to be independent, the sound and word imitation continues to exist in
enlarged measure. Echolalia has never, perhaps, been more marked, the
final words of sentences heard being repeated with the regularity of a
machine. If I say, "Leg die Feder hin" (Lay the pen down)! there sounds
in response a _feder hin_. All sorts of tones and noises are imitated
with varying success; even the whistle of the locomotive, an object in
which a passionate interest is displayed; the voices of animals; so
also German, French, Italian, and English words. The French nasal "n"
(in _bon_, _orange_), however--even in the following months--as well as
the English "th," in _there_ (in spite of the existence of the right
formation in the fifteenth month), is not attained. The child still
laughs regularly when others laugh, and on his part excites merriment
through exact reproduction of separate fragments of a dialogue that he
does not understand, and that does not concern him; e. g., _da hastn_
(da hast Du ihn) (there you have him), or _aha sist[)e]_ (siehst Du) (do
you see)? or _um Gottes willen_ (for God's sake), the accent in these
cases being also imitated with precision. But in his independent use of
words the accentuation varies in irregular fashion. Such an arbitrary
variation is _bitté_ and _bi-t[)e]_. _Beti_ no longer appears.
As a noteworthy deficiency at this period is to be mentioned the feeble
memory for often-prescribed answers to certain questions. To the
question of a stranger, "What is your name?" the child for the first
time gave of his own accord the answer _Attsell_ (Axel), on the eight
hundred and tenth day of his life. On the other hand, improper answers
that have been seriously censured remain fixed in his recollection. The
impression is stronger here. The weakness of memory is still shown most
plainly when we try to make intelligible to the child the numerals one
to five. It is a failure. The sensuous impression that _one_ ball makes
is so different from that which two balls make, the given words _one_
and _two_ sound so differently, that we can not help wondering how one
and two, and likewise three, four, five, are confounded with one
another.
A _question_ has not yet been uttered by the child. The frequent _ist
das_ signifies merely "das ist," or it is the echo of the oft-heard
question, "Was ist das?" and is uttered without the tone of
interrogation. The articles are not used at all yet; at any rate, if
used, they are merely imitated without understanding.
The defects of articulation are now less striking, but only very slowly
does the correct and distinct pronunciation take the place of the
erroneous and indistinct. We still have regularly:
_bücher-rank_ for Bücherschrank (book-case).
_fraï takkee_ " Fräulein Starke (Miss Starke).
_[=e]r[)e]_, _tseer_ " Schere (shears).
_raïb[)e]_, _raiben_ " Schreiben (u. Zeichnen) (write or draw).
_nur_ " Schnur (string).
_neiderin_ " Schneiderin (tailoress).
_dsön_ (also _schön_) " schön (pretty).
_lafen_ " schlafen (sleep).
_pucken_ " spucken (spit).
_dsehen_ (also _sehen_) " sehen (see).
The sounds "sch" and "sch" in the "st" as well as in the "sp"
("schneiden, Spiel") are often omitted without any substitute
(_naid[)a]_, _taign_, _piel_); more seldom their place is supplied
by "s," as in _swer_ = "schwer" for "müde." Yet _ks_, _ts_ are often
given with purity in _bex_, _bux_, _Axl_. The last word is often
pronounced _Ats[)e]l_ and _Atsli_ (heard by him as "Axeli"), very
rarely _Akkl_; in "Aufziehen" the "z" is almost always correctly
reproduced. Further, we still have
_locotiwe_ for Locomotive.
_nepf_ " Knöpfe (buttons).
_ann-nepf_ " anknöpfen.
_nits_ " nichts (nothing).
"Milch" is now permanently named correctly; no longer _mimi_, _mich_;
Wasser, _wassa_, no longer _watja_. But "gefährlich" is called
_fährlich_; "getrunken," _trunken_.
The twenty-eighth month is characterized by a rapid increase of
activity in the formation of ideas, on the one hand, and by
considerably greater certainty in the use of words, on the other.
Ambition is developed and makes itself known by a frequent _laïnee_
(_allein_, alone). The child wants to undertake all sorts of things
without help. He asks for various objects interesting to him, with
the words _Ding haben_ (have the thing). That the faculty of
observation and of combination is becoming perfected, is indicated
by the following: The child sees an ox at the slaughter-house and
says _mumu_ (moo-moo); I add "todt" (dead); thereupon comes the
response _mumu todt_, and after a pause the child says, of his own
accord, _lachtett_ (_geschlachtet_, slaughtered); then _Blut heraus_
(blood out). The beginning of self-control is perceived in this,
that the child often recollects, of himself, the strict commands he
has received to refrain from this and that. Thus, he had been
accustomed to strike members of the family in fun, and this had been
forbidden him. Now, when the inclination seizes him still to strike,
he says emphatically _nicht lagen_ (_schlagen_,--not strike), _Axel
brav_ (good). In general the child names himself only by his name,
which he also tells to strangers without being asked. His parents,
and these alone, are mostly named _Papa_ and _Mama_, but often also
by their names.
The following is a proof of independent thinking while the understanding
of language is still imperfect: At breakfast I say, "Axel is
breakfasting with papa, is he not (_nicht wahr_)?" He replies
earnestly, with genuine child-logic, _doch wahr_ (but he _is_)!
The earlier appellation _swer_ and _wer_ (schwer--heavy) for müde
(tired) is preserved. This transference, like the other one, _locotiwe
wassa trinkt_, when the engine is supplied with water, is the
intellectual peculium of the child. The number of such childish
conceptions has now become very large. On the other hand, the words
independently formed out of what has been heard are not numerous:
_beisst_ for gebissen (bitten),
_reit_ " geritten (ridden),
_esst_ " gegessen (eaten),
_wesen_ " gewesen (been),
_austrinkt_ " ausgetrunken (drunk up),
_tschulter_ " Schulter (shoulder),
must be considered as mutilations, not as new formations. The great
number of words correctly pronounced and used continues, on the other
hand, to increase. There are even decided attempts to use single
_prepositions_: _Nepfe_ (Knöpfe) _für Mama_ (buttons for mamma) may be
simple repetition, like _Axel mit Papa_; but as utterances of this kind
were not formerly repeated by him, though just as often made in his
hearing, the understanding of the "für" and "mit" must now be awakened.
From this time forth the understanding of several prepositions and the
correct use of them abide. In addition there come into this period the
first applications of the _article_. However often this part of speech
may have been reproduced from the speech of others, it has never been
said with understanding; but now in the expressions _um'n Hals_ and
_für'm Axel_ (around the neck and for (the) Axel) there lies the
beginning of right use of the article, and, indeed, also in the months
immediately succeeding, almost solely of the definite article.
But more significant psychogenetically than all progress of this kind in
the manipulation of language is the questioning that becomes active in
this month. Although I paid special attention to this point from the
beginning, I first heard the child ask a question of his own accord on
the eight hundred and forty-fifth day of his life. He asked, "Where is
Mima?" From that time on questions were more frequent; but in the time
immediately following this his question was always one relating to
something in space. The word "Where?" continued for a long time to be
his only interrogative. He has also for a long time understood the
"Where?" when he heard it. If, e. g., I asked, "Where is the nose?"
without giving any hint by look or otherwise, this question has for
months past been correctly answered by a movement of the child's arm to
his nose. It is true that my question, "What is that?" a much more
frequent one, is likewise answered correctly, although the word "What?"
has never been used by the child.
His cleverness in reproducing even foreign expressions is surprising.
The words pronounced for him by Italians (during a pretty long sojourn
on Lake Garda), e. g., _uno_, _due_, _tre_, are given back without the
least German accent. "Quattro," to be sure, became _wattro_, but _ancora
piccolo_ was absolutely pure. The imitation of the marching of soldiers,
with the frequent cry _batelón eins s[)u]ai_ (battalion, one, two),
already gives him the greatest pleasure. The imagination that is active
in it is to be discerned, however, rather in gestures than in words.
How lively the child's power of imagination is appears also in the fact
that flat figures rudely cut out of newspaper, to represent glasses and
cups, are carried to the mouth like real ones.
The _articulation_ has again become a little more perfected, but in many
respects it is still a good deal deficient; thus, in regard to the
"sch," he says:
_abneiden_ for abschneiden (cut off).
_hirn_ " Stirn (forehead).
_verbrochen_ " versprochen (promised).
_lagn_ " schlagen (strike).
_runtergeluckt_ " heruntergeschluckt (swallowed).
_einteign_ " einsteigen (get in).
On the other hand, _aus-teign_ (Aussteigen) (alight).
Other defects of articulation are shown by the following examples:
_topf_ for klopfen (knock).
_üffte_ " lüften (take the air).
_leben_ " kleben (adhere).
_viloa, viloja,_ " Viola.
_dummi_ " Gummi (gum).
The _l mouillé_ can not be at all successfully given at the beginning of
this month (_bat[)e]l[=o]n_ for "bataillon"), and the nasal sounds in
"orange" and "salon" offer insuperable difficulties (up to the second
half of the fourth year). At the end of this month, however, I heard a
_ganzee bataljohn_ (_j_ like English _y_). "Orange" continued to be,
after _oraanjee_ had been given up, _orohs[)e]_. The softening
(mouilliren--_nj_ = _ñ_) was inconvenient in this case.
Quite correctly named at this period were eye, nose, cheek, tongue,
mouth, ear, beard, hair, arm, thumb, finger.
Meaningless chatter has become much more rare. On the other hand, the
child is in the habit of making all sorts of remarks, especially in the
morning early after waking, for a quarter of an hour at a time and
longer without interruption, these remarks for the most part consisting
of a noun and verb and relating to objects immediately about him.
Monologues also are given in a singing voice, syllables without meaning,
often a regular singing, the child meantime running many times around
the table; besides, his strong voice is not seldom practiced in
producing high tones without any outward occasion; and, finally, it is
worthy of note that sometimes in sleep, evidently when the child has a
vivid dream, a scream is uttered. Talking in his sleep first appeared in
his fourth year.
The greatest advance in the twenty-ninth month consists in the
employment of the personal pronoun in place of his own name: _bitte
gib mir Brod_ (please give me bread) was the first sentence in which
it appeared. "Ich" (I) is not yet said, but if I ask "Who is 'me'?"
then the child names himself with his own name, as he does in
general. Through this employment, more and more frequent from this
time forth, of the pronoun instead of the proper name, is gradually
introduced the inflection of the verbs he has heard; but at this
time the imperative has its place generally supplied by the
infinitive: _P[)a]p[)a] s[=a]gn_ and _Ssooss sitzen_. Sentences
composed by himself, or heard and then used by him, like _das meckt_
(schmeckt) _sehr gut_ (that tastes very good), are rare; yet the
discrimination between regular and irregular verbs has already begun
to be made. To be sure, the question "Where have you been?" is
answered with _paziren gegeht_ (goed to walk), and _ausgezieht_ is
said for _ausgezogen_ (drawed out), also _geseht_ (seed) instead of
_gesehen_ (seen); but at the same time frequently _eingetigen_ and
_ausgetigen_, instead of _ein-_ and _aus-geteigt_. An interesting,
rare misformation was _grefessen_ for "gefressen." The verbs most
frequently used seem to be "haben" (have) and "kommen" (come), and
the forms "hat" and "kommt" are indeed correctly used sometimes, e. g.,
_viel Rauch kommt heraus_ (much smoke comes out), and _gleich
kommt Kaffee_ (the coffee is coming). While the infinitives "haben"
and "kommen" are uttered several times a day, the infinitive "sein"
(to be) is never heard; but of this auxiliary verb "ist" and "wesen"
are used, the latter for "gewesen." In every instance where the
child expresses a desire by means of a verb, he simply takes the
infinitive; e. g., he hears, as he sits in the room, the noise of
the railway-train at a distance, and he says, _Locotiwe sehen_.
Further, _numbering_ begins to be active to a noteworthy degree.
Although the numerals are already well known to the child, he still
confounds them on all occasions, and in view of the absolute failure of
the many attempts to teach the child the significance of the numbers 1,
2, 3, 4, 5, one might infer that he has not yet perceived the difference
between, e. g., 3 matches and 4 matches; yet counting is already taking
place, though in very unexpected fashion. The child began, viz., on the
eight hundred and seventy-eighth day, suddenly, of his own accord
entirely, to count with his nine-pins, putting them in a row, saying
with each one, _eins_ (one)! _eins!_ _eins!_ _eins!_ afterward saying
_eins!_ _noch eins_ (one more)! _noch eins!_ _noch eins!_ The process
of adding is thus performed without the naming of the sums.
The questioning that appeared in the previous month, the surest sign of
independent thought in the child, is somewhat more plainly manifest; but
"Where" alone serves as the interrogative word, and that in its proper
sense: Where is hat? "Which, who, why, when" are not spoken by the child
and doubtless not understood, for, although succession in time is in
many cases clear to him ("first eat," "then," "now"), yet in many other
cases he does not know how to express distinctions of time; just as in
comparing many and few, large and small objects, the quantity is wrongly
given. Thus he says correctly, when many counters are to be brought
together, _Zuviel_ (too many), but says _Zuviel_ wrongly for _Zuwenig_
(too little) when there is too little butter on his bread. In this case
the _Zuviel_ (too much) sounds almost like irony, which, of course, is
out of the question at his age. "Too much" and "too little" are
confounded in the same way as 5 and 2. Yet, in another respect the
memory has made a considerable gain. Expressions long since forgotten by
those about the child are suddenly without assignable occasion sometimes
uttered again with perfect distinctness, and the child even applies
fitly what he has observed. Thus, he brings matches when he sees that
some one wants to light a candle. I say to him, "Pick up the
bread-crumbs." Upon this the child comes forward, though very slowly,
cries out suddenly, _Get broom_, recollecting that he has seen the
carpet swept, goes and gets the broom, and sweeps the crumbs away. His
memory for the utterances of animals as they have been made for him is
very good. If I ask, e. g., "What does the duck say?" the answer is
_Kuak kuak_. He has gained also in certainty in naming the separate
parts of a drawing, especially of a locomotive, so that one chief
condition of speech, in the full sense of the word--memory--may be said
to be well developed.
Articulation, on the contrary, makes slow progress. "Hirsch" is called
_Hirss_, "Schwalbe" _Walbe_, "Flasche" _Flassee_. The following are
generally correctly pronounced: _Treppe_, _Fenster_, _Krug_, _Kraut_,
_Kuchen_, _Helm_, _Besen_, _Cigarre_, _Hut_, _Giesskanne_, _Dinte_,
_Buch_, _Birne_. For "barometer, thermometer," he says _mometer_, for
"Schrauben" _raubn_, for "frühstücken" (to breakfast) still often
_fri-ticken_.
In the _thirtieth month_ the independent activity of thought develops
more and more. When the child is playing by himself, e. g., he often
says to himself: _Eimerchen ausleeren_ (make pail empty); _Hackemesser_
(chopping-knife). Thus his small vocabulary serves him at any rate for
making clear his own ideas. Already his thinking is often a low
speaking, yet only in part. When language fails him, he first considers
well. An example: The child finds it very difficult to turn crosswise or
lengthwise one of the nine-pins which he wants to put into its box, and
when I say, "Round the other way!" he turns it around in such a way that
it comes to lie as it did at the beginning, wrongly. He also pushes the
broad side of the cover against the small end of the box. The child
evidently understands the expression "Round the other way"; but as the
expression is ambiguous (the head of the nine-pin may go to the left,
to the right, up, down, back, forward), we can understand that the pin
should be turned now one way and again another way, and even brought
back to its original position. Then appears the child's own deliberation
without words--without any speaking at all, low or loud--until after
frequently repeated packing and unpacking hardly any hesitation is
shown. Many utterances show how easily at this period objects that have
only a slight resemblance to one another or only a few qualities in
common are included in one concept. When a roasted apple is peeled, the
child sees the peel and says (thinking of his boiled milk, which he saw
several hours previous, but which is not now present), _Milch auch Haut_
(milk skin too). Similar is the expression _Kirche läutet_ (church
rings) when the tower-clock strikes.
The child forms concepts which comprehend a few qualities in unity, and
indeed without designating the concept always by a particular word,
whereas the developed understanding more and more forms concepts with
many qualities and designates them by words. Hence the concepts of the
child have less content and more extent than those of adults. For this
reason they are less distinct also, and are often ephemeral, since they
break up into narrower, more distinct concepts; but they always testify
to activity of thought.
A greater intellectual advance, however, is manifested at this time in
the first intentional use of language in order to bring on a game of
hide-and-seek. A key falls to the floor. The child picks it up quickly,
holds it behind him, and to my question, "Where is the key?" answers
_nicht mehr da_ (no longer there). As I found in the following months
no falsehood, in the proper sense of the word, to record, but rather
that the least error, the most trivial exaggeration, was corrected at
once by the child himself, with peculiarly _naïve_ seriousness, in a
little story, with pauses between the separate words, so, too, in the
present case the answer _nicht mehr da_ is no falsehood, but is to be
understood as meaning that the key is no longer to be seen. The
expression of the face was roguish at the time.
The sole interrogative word continues still to be "Where?" e. g., _Where
is ball?_ The demonstratives _da_ (there) and _dort_ (yonder) (_dort ist
nass_--wet) were more frequently spoken correctly in answer.
The "I" in place of his own name does not yet appear, because this word
does not occur frequently enough in conversation with the child. The bad
custom adults have of designating themselves in their talk with little
children, not as in ordinary conversation by the word "I," but by the
proper name, or as "aunt," "grandma," etc., postpones the time of saying
"I" on the part of children. _Me_ is pretty often used at this period,
for the reason that it is frequently heard at meal-times in "Give me!"
_Bitte, liebe Mama, gib mir mehr Suppe_ (Please, dear mamma, give me
more soup) is, to be sure, learned by heart; but such sentences are at
the proper time and in the proper place modified and even independently
applied. _Noch mehr_, _immer noch mehr_, _vielleicht_, _fast_ (more,
more yet, perhaps, almost), are also expressions often properly
employed, the last two, however, with uncertainty still. _Fast gefallen_
(almost fell) the child says when he has actually fallen down.
Although declension and conjugation are as yet absolutely lacking, a
transition has become established from the worst form of dysgrammatism
to the beginning of correct diction by means of the more frequent use of
the plural in nouns (_Rad_, _Räder_), the more frequent employment of
the article (_för d[)e] Papa_), the not very rare strong inflection
(_gegangen_ instead of the earlier _gegeht_; _genommen_ instead of the
earlier _genehmt_). To be sure, the infinitive still stands in the place
of the participle and the imperative in by far the great majority of
cases. The auxiliaries are often omitted or employed in strange
misformations, e. g., "Where have you been?" Answer, _paziren gewarent_
[something like _they wented 'alk_] (wir waren spazieren, spazieren
gewesen).
In _articulation_ no perceptible progress is to be recorded. The objects
known from the picture-book are indeed for the most part rightly named,
but new ones often have their names very much distorted--e. g.,
"Violine" is persistently called _wiloïne_. The "sch" is occasionally
given correctly, but _s-trümpfe_, _auf-s-tehen_ is the rule. The answer
that has been learned to the question, "How old are you?" "Seit November
zwei Jahre," is given _wember wai jahr_. The way in which the child
learns the correct pronunciation is in general twofold: 1. Through
frequent hearing of the correct words, since no one speaks as he himself
does; thus, e. g., _genommen_ took the place of _genehmt_ without
instruction. 2. Through having the words frequently pronounced on
purpose for him to imitate with the utmost attention. Thus, e. g., the
child up to this time always said _Locotiwe_ and _Locopotiwe_. I
exhorted him a few times earnestly to say "Locomotive." The result was
_Loco-loco-loco-mo-tiwe_, and then _Locomotiwe_, with exact copying of
the accent with which I spoke. Singing also is imitated.
His memory for words that denote objects is very good; but when
expressions designating something not very apparent to the senses are to
be learned, he easily fails. Thus, the left and the right foot or arm,
the left and the right cheek or hand, are very often correctly named,
but often falsely. The difference between left and right can not be
exactly described, explained, or made imaginable to the child.
In the _thirty-first month_ two new questions make their appearance: The
child asks, _Welches Papier nehmen?_ (What paper take?) after he has
obtained permission to make marks with the pencil, i. e., to _raiben_
(write and draw), and _Was kost die Trommel?_ (What does the drum cost?)
Now the indefinite article appears oftener; it is distinctly audible in
_Halt n biss-chen Wasser!_ More surprising are individual new
formations, which disappear, however, soon after their rise; thus, the
comparative of "hoch." The child says with perfect distinctness _hocher
bauen_ (build higher) in playing with wooden blocks; he thus forms of
himself the most natural comparative, like the participle _gegebt_ for
"gegeben." In place of "Uhr-schlüssel" (watch-key) he says _Slüssl-Uhr_
(key-watch), thus placing the principal thing first.
He makes use of the strange expression _heitgestern_ in place of "heute"
(to-day), and in place of "gestern" (yesterday). The two latter taken
singly are confounded with each other for a long time yet.
Sentence-forming is still very imperfect: _is smoke_ means "that is
smoke" and "there is smoke"; and _kommt Locomotiwe_ stands for "da kommt
eine oder die Locomotive" (There comes a, or the, engine). At sight of
the bath-tub, however, the child says six times in quick succession _Da
kommt kalt Wasser rein, Marie_ (Cold water is to go in here, Mary). He
frequently makes remarks on matters of fact, e. g., _warm out there_. If
he has broken a flower-pot, a bandbox, a glass, he says regularly, of
his own accord, _Frederick glue again_, and he reports faithfully every
little fault to his parents. But when a plaything or an object
interesting to him vexes him, he says, peevishly, _stupid thing_, e. g.,
to the carpet, which he can not lift; and he does not linger long over
one play. His occupation must be changed very often.
The imitations are now again becoming less frequent than in the past
months, and expressions not understood are repeated rather for the
amusement of the family than unconsciously; thus, _Ach Gott_ (Oh God!)
and _wirklich grossartig_ (truly grand). Yet the child sometimes sings
in his sleep, several seconds at a time, evidently dreaming.
The pronunciation of the "sch," even in the favorite succession of
words, _Ganzes Batalljohn marss_ (for "marsch") _eins_, _zwei_, is
imperfect, and although no person of those about him pronounces the
"st" in "Stall, stehen" otherwise than as "scht," the child keeps
persistently to _S-tall_, _s-tehen_. The pronunciation "scht" began
in the last six months of the fourth year of his life, and in the
forty-sixth month it completely crowded out the "st," which seems
the more remarkable as the child was taken care of by a Mecklenburg
woman from the beginning of the fourth year.
In the _thirty-second month_ the "I" began to displace his own name.
_Mir_ (_gib mir_) and _mich_ (_bitte heb mich herauf_, please lift me
up) had already appeared in the twenty-ninth to the thirty-first month;
_ich komme gleich_, _Geld möcht ich haben_ (I am coming directly, I
should like money), are new acquirements. If he is asked "Who is _I_?"
the answer is, _der Axel_. But he still speaks in the third person
frequently; e. g., the child says, speaking of himself, _da ist er
wieder_ (here he is again), _Axel auch haben_ (Axel have, too), and
_mag-[)e] nicht_, thus designating himself at this period in fourfold
fashion, by _I_, _he_, _Axel_, and by the omission of all pronouns and
names. Although _bitte setz mich auf den Stuhl_ (Please put me on the
chair) is learned from hearing it said for him, yet the correct
application of the sentence, which he makes of himself daily from this
time on, must be regarded as an important advance. The same is true of
the forming of clauses, which is now beginning to take place, as in
_Weiss nicht, wo es ist_ (Don't know where it is). New also is the
separation of the particle in compound verbs, as in _fällt immer um_
(keeps tumbling over).
Longer and longer names and sentences are spoken with perfect
distinctness, but the influence of the dialect of the neighborhood is
occasionally perceptible. His nurse is the one who talks most with him.
She is from the Schwarzwald, and from her comes the omission of the "n"
at the end of words, as in _Kännche_, _trocke_. Besides, the confounding
of the surd, "p," with the sonant, "b" (_putter_), is so frequent that
it may well be taken from the Thuringian dialect, like the confounding
of "eu" and "ei" (_heit_). The only German sounds that still present
great difficulties are "sch" and "chts" (in "nichts").
The memory of the child has indeed improved, but it has become somewhat
fastidious. Only that which seems interesting and intelligible to the
child impresses itself permanently; on the other hand, useless and
unintelligible verses learned by rote, that persons have taught him,
though seldom, for fun, are forgotten after a few days.
In the _thirty-third month_ the strength of memory already mentioned for
certain experiences shows itself in many characteristic remarks. Thus
the child, again absent from home with his parents for some weeks, says
almost every evening, _gleich blasen die Soldaten_ (the soldiers, i. e.,
the band, will play directly), although no soldier is to be seen in the
country far and wide. But at home the music was actually to be heard
every evening.
At sight of a cock in his picture-book the child says, slowly, _Das ist
der Hahn--kommt immer--das ganze Stück fortnehmt--von der Hand--und
laüft fort_ ("That is the cock--keeps coming--takes away the whole
piece--out of the hand--and runs off"). This narrative--the longest yet
given, by the way--has reference to the feeding of the fowls, on which
occasion the cock had really carried off a piece of bread. The doings of
animals in general excited the attention of the child greatly. He is
capable even of forgetting to eat, in order to observe assiduously the
movements of a fly. _Jetzt geht in die Zeitung--geht in die Milch!_
_Fort Thier! Geh fort! Unter den Kaffee!_ (Now he is going into the
newspaper--going into the milk! Away, creature! go away! into the
coffee!) His interest is very keen for other moving objects also,
particularly locomotives.
How little clearness there is in his conceptions of animal and machine,
however, appears from the fact that both are addressed in the same way.
When his father's brother comes, the child says, turning to his father,
_neuer_ (new) _Papa_; he has not, therefore, the slightest idea of that
which the word "father" signifies. Naturally he can have none. Yet
selfhood (Ichheit) has come forth at this period in considerably sharper
manifestation. He cries, _Das Ding haben! das will ich, das will ich,
das will ich, das Spiel möcht ich haben!_ (Have the thing! I want it, I
should like the game.) To be sure, when one says "komm, ich knöpfs dir
zu" (come, I will button it for you), the child comes, and says, as an
echo, _ich knöpfs dir zu_ (I will button it for you), evidently meaning,
"Button it for me"! He also confounds _zu viel_ (too much) with _zu
wenig_ (too little), _nie_ (never) with _immer_ (always), _heute_
(to-day) with _gestern_ (yesterday); on the contrary, the words _und_,
_sondern_, _noch_, _mehr_, _nur_, _bis_, _wo_ (and, but, still, more,
only, till, where) are always used correctly. The most striking mistakes
are those of conjugation, which is still quite erroneous (e. g.,
_getrinkt_ and _getrunkt_ along with _getrunken_), and of articulation,
the "sch" (_dsen_ for "schön") being only seldom pure, mostly given as
"s" or "ts." "Toast" is called _Toos_ and _Dose_.
After the first thousand days of his life had passed, the observation
of him was continued daily, but not the record in writing. Some
particulars belonging to the following months may be noted:
Many expressions accidentally heard by the child that excited the
merriment of the family when once repeated by him, were rehearsed times
without number in a laughing, roguish, obtrusive manner, thus, _du liebe
Zeit_. The child also calls out the name of his nurse, _Marie_, often
without meaning, over and over again, even in the night. He calls others
also by this name in manifest distraction of mind, often making the
correction himself when he perceives the mistake.
More and more seldom does the child speak of himself in the third
person, and then he calls himself by his name, never saying "he" any
more. Usually he speaks of himself as "I," especially "I will, I will
have that, I can not." Gradually, too, he uses _Du_ in address, e. g.,
_Was für hübsen Rock hast Du_ (What a handsome coat you have)! Here the
manner of using the "Was" is also new.
On the ten hundred and twenty-eighth day _warum_ (why?) was first used
in a question. I was watching with the closest attention for the first
appearance of this word. The sentence ran, _Warum nach Hause gehen? ich
will nicht nach Hause_ (Why go home? I don't want to go home). When a
wheel creaked on the carriage, the child asked, _Was macht nur so_ (What
makes that)? Both questions show that at last the instinct of causality,
which manifested itself more than a year before in a kind of activity of
inquiry, in experimenting, and even earlier (in the twelfth week) in
giving attention to things, is expressed _in language_; but the
questioning is often repeated in a senseless way till it reaches the
point of weariness. _Warum wird das Holz gesnitten?_ (for "gesägt"--Why
is the wood sawed?) _Warum macht der Frödrich die [Blumen] Töpfe rein?_
(Why does Frederick clean the flower-pots?) are examples of childish
questions, which when they receive an answer, and indeed whatever
answer, are followed by fresh questions just as idle (from the
standpoint of adults); but they testify plainly to a far-reaching
independent activity of thought. So with the frequent question, _Wie
macht man das nur?_ (How is that done?)
It is to be said, further, that I found the endeavor impracticable to
ascertain the order of succession in which the child uses the different
interrogative words. It depends wholly on the company about him at what
time first this or that turn of expression or question is repeated and
then used independently. "Why" is heard by him, as a rule, less often
than "What?" and "How?" and "Which?" Still, it seems remarkable that I
did not once hear the child say "When?" until the close of the third
year. The sense of space is, to be sure, but little developed at that
time, but the sense of time still less. The use of the word "forgotten"
(_ich habe vergessen_) and of "I shall" (do this or that) is exceedingly
rare.
The articulation was speedily perfected; yet there was no success at all
in the repetition of French nasal sounds. In spite of much pains "salon"
remained _salo_, "orange" _orose_; and the French "je" also presented
insuperable difficulties. Of German sounds, "sch" alone was seldom
correct. It was still represented by _s_; for example, in _sloss_ for
"Schloss," _ssooss_ for "Schooss."
His fondness for singing increases, and indeed all sorts of meaningless
syllables are repeated with pleasure again and again, much as in the
period of infancy, only more distinctly; but, just as at that time, they
can not all be represented on paper or even be correctly reproduced by
adults. For a considerable time he was fond of _[=e]-la_, _[=e]-la_,
_la_, _la_, _la_, _la_, in higher and higher pitch, and with unequal
intervals, _lálla-lálla_, _lilalula_. In this it was certainly more the
joy over the increasing compass and power of his voice that stimulated
him to repetition than it was the sound of the syllables; yet in the
thirty-sixth month he showed great pleasure in his singing, of which
peculiar, though not very pleasing, melodies were characteristic. The
singing over of songs sung to him was but very imperfectly successful.
On the other hand, the copying of the manner of speaking, of accent,
cadence, and ring of the voices of adults was surprising, although
echolalia proper almost ceased or appeared again only from time to time.
Grammatical errors are already becoming more rare. A stubborn fault in
declension is the putting of _am_ in place of _dem_ and _der_, e. g.,
_das am Mama geben_. Long sentences are formed correctly, but slowly and
with pauses, without errors, e. g., _die Blume--ist ganz durstig--möcht
auch n bischen Wasser haben_ (The flower is quite thirsty--would like a
little water). If I ask now, "From whom have you learned that?" the
answer comes regularly, _das hab ich alleine gelernt_ (I learned it
alone). In general the child wants to manage for himself without
assistance, to pull, push, mount, climb, water flowers, crying out
repeatedly and passionately, _ich möcht ganz alleine_ (I want to [do it]
all alone). In spite of this independence and these ambitious
inclinations, there seldom appears an invention of his own in language.
Here belongs, e. g., the remark of the child, _das Bett ist zu holzhart_
(the bed is too wooden-hard), after having hit himself against the
bed-post. Further, to the question, "Do you like to sleep in the large
room?" he answered, _O ja ganz lieberich gern_; and when I asked, "Who,
pray, speaks so?" the answer came very slowly, with deliberation and
with pauses, _nicht-nicht-nicht-nicht-nicht-niemand_ (not--nobody).
How far advanced is the use of the participles, which are hard to
master, is shown by the sentence, _die Milch ist schon heiss gemacht
worden_ (the milk has already been made hot).
The child's manner of speaking when he was three years old approximated
more and more rapidly to that of the family through continued listening
to them and imitation of them, so that I gave up recording it; besides,
the abundant--some may think too abundant--material already presented
supplies facts enough to support the foundations of the history of the
development of speech in the child as I have attempted to set it forth.
A systematic, thorough-going investigation requires the combined labor
of many, who must all strive to answer the same questions--questions
which in this chronological survey are, in regard to one single
individual, in part answered, but in part could merely be proposed.
To observe the child every day during the first thousand days of his
life, in order to trace the historical development of speech, was
possible only through self-control, much patience, and great expenditure
of time; but such observations are necessary, from the physiological,
the psychological, the linguistic, and the pedagogic point of view, and
nothing can supply their place.
In order to secure for them the highest degree of trustworthiness, I
have adhered strictly, without exception, to the following rules:
1. I have not adopted a single observation of the accuracy of which I
was not _myself_ most positively convinced. Least of all can one rely on
the reports of nurses, attendants, and other persons not practiced in
scientific observing. I have often, merely by a brief, quiet
cross-examination, brought such persons to see for themselves the
erroneous character of their statements, particularly in case these were
made in order to prove how "knowing" the infants were. On the other
hand, I owe to the mother of my child, who has by nature a talent for
observation such as is given to few, a great many communications
concerning his mental development which have been easily verified by
myself.
2. Every observation must _immediately_ be entered in writing in a diary
that is always lying ready. If this is not done, details of the
observations are often forgotten; a thing easily conceivable, because
these details in themselves are in many ways uninteresting--especially
the meaningless articulations--and they acquire value only in connection
with others.
3. In conducting the observations every artificial strain upon the child
is to be avoided, and the effort is to be made as often as possible to
observe without the child's noticing the observer at all.
4. All training of the one-year-old and of the two-year-old child must
be, so far as possible, prevented. I have in this respect been so far
successful that my child was not until late acquainted with such tricks
as children are taught, and was not vexed with the learning by heart of
songs, etc., which he was not capable of understanding. Still, as the
record shows, not all unnecessary training could be avoided. The earlier
a little child is constrained to perform ceremonious and other
conventional actions, the meaning of which is unknown to him, so much
the earlier does he lose the poetic naturalness which, at any rate, is
but brief and never comes again; and so much the more difficult becomes
the observation of his unadulterated mental development.
5. Every interruption of one's observation for more than a day demands
the substitution of another observer, and, after taking up the work
again, a verification of what has been perceived and noted down in the
interval.
6. Three times, at least, every day the same child is to be observed,
and everything incidentally noticed is to be put upon paper, no less
than that which is methodically ascertained with reference to definite
questions.
In accordance with these directions, tested by myself, all my own
observations in this book, and particularly those of this chapter, were
conducted. Comparison with the statements of others can alone give them
a general importance.
What has been furnished by earlier observers in regard to children's
learning to speak is, however, not extensive. I have collected some data
in an appendix.
CHAPTER XIX.
DEVELOPMENT OF THE FEELING OF SELF, THE "I"-FEELING.
Before the child is in a condition to recognize as belonging to him the
parts of his body that he can feel and see, he must have had a great
number of experiences, which are for the most part associated with
_painful feelings_. How little is gained for the development of the
notion of the "I" by means of the first movements of the hands, which
the infant early carries to the mouth, and which must give him, when he
sucks them, a different feeling from that given by sucking the finger of
another person, or other suitable objects, appears from the fact that,
e. g., my child for months tugged at his fingers as if he wanted to pull
them off, and struck his own head with his hand by way of experiment. At
the close of the first year he had a fancy for striking hard substances
against his teeth, and made a regular play of gnashing the teeth. When
on the four hundred and ninth day he stood up straight in bed, holding
on to the railing of it with his hands, _he bit himself on his bare
arm_, and that the upper arm, so that he immediately cried out with
pain. The marks of the incisors were to be seen long afterward. The
child did not a second time bite himself in the arm, but only bit his
fingers, and inadvertently his tongue.
The same child, who likes to hold a biscuit to the mouth of any member
of the family to whom he is favorably disposed, offered the biscuit in
the same way, entirely of his own accord, to his own foot--sitting on
the floor, holding the biscuit in a waiting attitude to his toes--and
this strange freak was repeated many times in the twenty-third month.
The child amused himself with it.
Thus, at a time when the attention to what is around is already very far
developed, one's own person may not be distinguished from the
environment. Vierordt thinks that a discrimination between the general
feelings [i. e., those caused by bodily states] and the sensations that
pertain to the external world exists in the third month. From my
observations I can not agree with him; for, although the division may
begin thus early, yet it does not become complete until much later. In
the ninth month the feet are still eagerly felt of by the little hands,
though not so eagerly as before, and the toes are carried to the mouth
like a new plaything. Nay, even in the nineteenth month it is not yet
clear how much belongs to one's own body. The child had lost a shoe. I
said, "Give the shoe." He stooped, seized it, and gave it to me. Then,
when I said to the child, as he was standing upright on the floor, "Give
the foot," in the expectation that he would hold it out, stretch it
toward me, he grasped at it with both hands, and labored hard to get it
and hand it to me.
How little he understands, even after the first year of his life has
passed, the difference between the parts of his own body and foreign
objects is shown also in some strange experiments that the child
conducted quite independently. He sits by me at the table and
strikes very often and rapidly with his hands successive blows upon
the table, at first gently, then hard; then, with the right hand
alone, hard; next, suddenly strikes himself with the same hand on
the mouth; then he holds his hand to his mouth for a while, strikes
the table again with the right hand, and then on a sudden strikes
his own head (above the ear). The whole performance gave exactly the
impression of his having for the first time noticed that it is one
thing to strike oneself, one's own hard head, and another thing to
strike a foreign hard object (forty-first week). Even in the
thirteenth month the child often raps his head with his hand to try
the effect, and seems surprised at the hardness of the head. In the
sixteenth month he used not unfrequently to set the left thumb
against the left side of the head, and at the same time the right
thumb against the right side of the head, above the ears, with the
fingers spread, and to push at the same time, putting on a strange,
wondering expression of face, with wide-open eyes. This movement is
not imitated and not inherited, but invented. The child is doubtless
making experiments by means of it upon the holding of the head,
head-shaking, resistance of his own body, perhaps also upon the
management of the head, as at every thump of the thumbs against the
temporal bones a dull sound was heard. The objectivity of the
fingers was found out not much before this time by involuntary,
painful biting of them, for as late as the fifteenth month the child
bit his finger so that he cried out with pain. Pain is the most
efficient teacher in the learning of the difference between
subjective and objective.
Another important factor is the _perception of a change produced by
ones own activity_ in all sorts of familiar objects that can be
taken hold of in the neighborhood; and the most remarkable day, from
a psychogenetic point of view, in any case an extremely significant
day in the life of the infant, is the one in which he first
experiences the _connection of a movement executed by himself with a
sense-impression following upon it_. The noise that comes from the
tearing and crumpling of paper is as yet unknown to the child. He
discovers (in the fifth month) the fact that he himself in tearing
paper into smaller and smaller pieces has again and again the new
sound-sensation, and he repeats the experiment day by day and with a
strain of exertion until this connection has lost the charm of
novelty. At present there is not, indeed, as yet any clear insight
into the nexus of cause; but the child has now had the experience
that he can himself be the cause of a combined perception of sight
and sound regularly, to the extent that when he tears paper there
appears, on the one hand, the lessening in size; on the other hand,
the noise. The patience with which this occupation--from the
forty-fifth to the fifty-fifth week especially--is continued with
pleasure is explained by the gratification at being a cause, at the
perception that so striking a transformation as that of the
newspaper into fragments has been effected by means of his own
activity. Other occupations of this sort, which are taken up again
and again with a persistency incomprehensible to an adult, are the
shaking of a bunch of keys, the opening and closing of a box or
purse (thirteenth month); the pulling out and emptying, and then the
filling and pushing in, of a table-drawer; the heaping up and the
strewing about of garden-mold or gravel; the turning of the leaves
of a book (thirteenth to nineteenth month); digging and scraping in
the sand; the carrying of footstools hither and thither; the placing
of shells, stones, or buttons in rows (twenty-first month); pouring
water into and out of bottles, cups, watering-pots (thirty-first to
thirty-third months); and, in the case of my boy, the throwing of
stones into the water. A little girl in the eleventh month found her
chief pleasure in "rummaging" with trifles in drawers and little
boxes. Her sister "played" with all sorts of things, taking an
interest in dolls and pictures in the tenth month (Frau von
Strümpell). Here, too, the eagerness and seriousness with which
such apparently aimless movements are performed is remarkable.
The satisfaction they afford must be very great, and it probably
has its basis in the feeling of his own power generated by the
movements originated by the child himself (changes of place, of
position, of form) and in the proud feeling of being a cause.
This is not mere playing, although it is so called; it is
_experimenting_. The child that at first merely played like a cat,
being amused with color, form, and movement, has become a _causative
being_. Herewith the development of the _"I"-feeling_ enters upon a
new phase; but it is not yet perfected. Vanity and ambition come in
for the further development of it. Above all, it is _attention_ to
the _parts of his own body_ and the _articles of his dress_, the
nearest of all objects to the child's eye, that helps along the
separation in thought of the child's body from all other objects.
I therefore made special observation of the directing of his look toward
his own body and toward the mirror. In regard to the first I took note,
among other facts, of the following:
_17th week._--In the seizing movements, as yet imperfect, the gaze is
fixed partly on the object, partly on _his own hand_, especially if the
hand has once seized successfully.
_18th week._--The very attentive regarding of the fingers in seizing is
surprising, and is to be observed daily.
_23d week._--When the infant, who often throws his hands about at random
in the air, accidentally gets hold of one hand with the other, he
regards attentively both his hands, which are often by chance folded.
_24th week._--In the same way the child fixes his gaze for several
minutes alternately upon a glove held by himself in his hands and upon
his own fingers that hold it.
_32d week._--The child, lying on his back, _looks_ very frequently _at_
his _legs_ stretched up vertically, especially at his _feet_, as if they
were something foreign to him.
_35th week._--In every situation in which he can do so, the child tries
to grasp a foot with both hands and carry it to his mouth, often with
success. This monkey-like movement seems to afford him special pleasure.
_36th week._--His own hands and feet are no more so frequently observed
by him without special occasion. Other new objects attract his gaze and
are seized.
_39th week._--The same as before. In the bath, however, the child
sometimes looks at and feels of _his own skin_ in various places,
evidently taking pleasure in doing so. Sometimes he directs his gaze
to his legs, which are bent and extended in a very lively manner in the
most manifold variety of positions.
_55th week._--The child looks for a long time attentively at a person
eating, and follows with his gaze every movement; grasps at the
person's face, and then, after _striking himself on the head_, fixes his
gaze on his own hands. He is fond of playing with the fingers of the
persons in the family, and delights in the bendings and extensions,
evidently comparing them with those of his own fingers.
_62d week._--Playing with his own fingers (at which he looks with a
protracted gaze) as if he would pull them off. Again, one hand is
pressed down by the other flat upon the table until it hurts, as if
the hand were a wholly foreign plaything, and it is still looked at
wonderingly sometimes.
From this time forth the gazing at the parts of his own body was
perceptibly lessened. The child _knew_ them as to their form, and
gradually learned to distinguish them from foreign objects as parts
belonging to him; but in this he by no means arrives at the point of
considering, "The hand is mine, the thing seized is not," or "The leg
belongs to me," and the like; but because all the visible parts of the
child's body, on account of very frequently repeated observation, no
longer excite the optic center so strongly and therefore appear no
longer interesting--because the experiences of touch combined with
visual perceptions always recur in the same manner--the child has
gradually become accustomed to them and _overlooks_ them when making
use of his hands and feet. He no longer represents them to himself
separately, as he did before, whereas every new object felt, seen, or
heard, is very interesting to him and is separately represented in idea.
Thus arises the definite separation of object and subject in the child's
intellect. In the beginning the child is new to himself, namely, to the
representational apparatus that gets its development only after birth;
later, after he has become acquainted with himself, after he, namely,
his body, has lost the charm of novelty for him, i. e., for the
representational apparatus in his brain, a dim feeling of the "I"
exists, and by means of further abstraction the concept of the "I" is
formed.
The progress of the intellect in the act of _looking into the mirror_
confirms this conclusion drawn from the above observations.
For the behavior of the child toward his image in the glass shows
unmistakably the gradual growth of the consciousness of self out of
a condition in which objective and subjective changes are not yet
distinguished from each other.
Among the subjective changes is, without doubt, the smiling at the
image in the tenth week, which was probably occasioned merely by the
brightness (Sigismund). Another boy in the twenty-seventh week looked
at himself in the glass with a smile (Sigismund).
Darwin recorded of one of his sons, that in the fifth month he
repeatedly smiled at his father's image and his own in a mirror and
took them for real objects; but he was surprised that his father's
voice sounded from behind him (the child). "Like all infants, he
much enjoyed thus looking at himself, and in less than two months
perfectly understood that it was an image, for if I made quite
silently any odd grimace, he would suddenly turn round to look at
me. He was, however, puzzled at the age of seven months, when, being
out of doors, he saw me on the inside of a large plate-glass window,
and seemed in doubt whether or not it was an image. Another of my
infants, a little girl, was not nearly so acute, and seemed quite
perplexed at the image of a person in a mirror approaching her from
behind. The higher apes which I tried with a small looking-glass
behaved differently. They placed their hands behind the glass, and
in doing so showed their sense; but, far from taking pleasure in
looking at themselves, they got angry and would look no more." The
first-mentioned child, at the age of not quite nine months,
associated his own name with his image in the looking-glass, and
when called by name would turn toward the glass even when at some
distance from it. He gave to "Ah!" which he used at first when
recognizing any person or his own image in a mirror, an exclamatory
sound such as adults employ when surprised. Thus Darwin reports.
My boy gave me occasion for the following observations:
In the eleventh week he does not see himself in the glass. If I knock on
the glass, he turns his head in the direction of the sound. His image
does not, however, make the slightest impression upon him.
In the fourteenth and fifteenth weeks he looks at his image with utter
indifference. His gaze is directed to the eyes in the image without any
expression of pleasure or displeasure.
In the sixteenth week the reflected image is still either ignored or
looked at without interest.
Near the beginning of the seventeenth week (on the one hundred and
thirteenth day) the child for the first time regards his image in the
glass with unmistakable attention, and indeed with the same expression
with which he is accustomed to fix his gaze on a strange face seen for
the first time. The impression appears to awaken neither displeasure nor
pleasure; the perception seems now for the first time to be distinct.
Three days later the child for the first time undoubtedly laughed at his
image.
When, in the twenty-fourth week, I held the child again before the
glass, he saw my image, became very attentive, and suddenly turned round
toward me, manifestly convincing himself that I stood near him.
In the twenty-fifth week he for the first time stretched out his hand
toward his own image. He therefore regarded it as capable of being
seized.
In the twenty-sixth week the child is delighted at seeing me in the
glass. He turns round toward me, and evidently _compares_ the original
with the image.
In the thirty-fifth week the child gayly and with interest grasps at his
image in the glass, and is surprised when his hand comes against the
smooth surface.
In the forty-first to the forty-fourth week, the same. The reflected
image is regularly greeted with a laugh, and is then grasped at.
All these observations were made before a very large stationary mirror.
In the fifty-seventh week, however, I held a small hand-mirror close to
the face of the child. He looked at his image and then passed his hand
behind the glass and moved the hand hither and thither as if searching.
Then he took the mirror himself and looked at it and felt of it on both
sides. When after several minutes I held the mirror before him again,
precisely the same performance was repeated. It accords with what was
observed by Darwin in the case of anthropoid apes mentioned above (p.
197).
In the fifty-eighth week I showed to the child his photograph,
cabinet-size, in a frame under glass. He first turned the picture round
as he had turned the hand-mirror. Although the photographic image was
much smaller than the reflected one, it seemed to be equally esteemed.
On the same day (four hundred and second) I held the hand-mirror before
the boy again, pointing out to him his image in it; but he at once
turned away obstinately (again like the intelligent animal).
Here the incomprehensible--in the literal sense--was disturbing. But
very soon came the insight which is wanting to the quadrumana, for in
the sixtieth week the child saw his mother in the mirror, and to the
question, "Where is mamma?" he pointed to the image in the mirror and
then turned round, laughing, to his mother. Now, as he had before this
time behaved roguishly, there is no doubt that at this time, after
fourteen months, original and image were distinguished with certainty
as such, especially as his own photograph no longer excited wonder.
Nevertheless, the child, in the sixty-first week, is still trying to
feel of his own image in the glass, and he licks the glass in which he
sees it, and, in the sixty-sixth week, also strikes against it with his
hand.
In the following week for the first time I saw the child make grimaces
before the glass. He laughed as he did it. I stood behind him and called
him by name. He turned around directly, although he saw me plainly in
the glass. He evidently knew that the voice did not come from the image.
In the sixty-ninth week signs of vanity are perceived. The child looks
at himself in the glass with pleasure and often. If we put anything on
his head and say, "Pretty," his expression changes. He is gratified in a
strange and peculiar fashion; his eyebrows are raised, and the eyes are
opened wide.
In the twenty-first month the child puts some lace or embroidered stuff
about him, lets it hang down from his shoulders, looks round behind at
the train, advancing, stopping, eagerly throwing it into fresh folds.
Here there is a mixture of apish imitation with vanity.
As the child had, moreover, even in the seventeenth month, been fond of
placing himself before the glass and making all sorts of faces, the
experiments with the mirror were no longer continued.
They show the transition from the infant's condition previous to the
development of the _ego_, when he can not yet see distinctly, to the
condition of the developed _ego_, who consciously distinguishes himself
from his image in the glass and from other persons and their images. Yet
for a long time after this step there exists a certain lack of clearness
in regard to names. In the twenty-first month the child laughs at his
image in the glass and points to it when I ask, "Where is Axel?" and at
my image when asked, "Where is papa?" But, being asked with emphasis,
the child turns round to me with a look of doubt. I once brought a large
mirror near the child's bed in the evening after he had gone to sleep,
so that he might perceive himself directly upon waking. He saw his image
immediately after waking, seemed very much surprised at it, gazed
fixedly at it, and when at last I asked, "Where is Axel?" he pointed not
to himself but to the image (six hundred and twentieth day). In the
thirty-first month it still afforded him great pleasure to gaze at his
image in the glass. The child would laugh at it persistently and
heartily.
Animals show great variety of behavior in this respect, as is well
known. A pair of Turkish ducks, that I used to see every day for weeks,
always kept themselves apart from other ducks. When the female died, the
drake, to my surprise, betook himself by preference to a cellar-window
that was covered on the inside and gave strong reflections, and he would
stand with his head before this for hours every day. He saw his image
there, and thought perhaps that it was his lost companion.
A kitten before which I held a small mirror must surely have taken the
image for a second living cat, for she went behind the glass and around
it when it was conveniently placed.
Many animals, on the contrary, are afraid of their reflected image, and
run away from it.
In like manner little children are sometimes frightened by the discovery
of their own shadows. My child exhibited signs of fear at his shadow the
first time he saw it; but in his fourth year he was pleased with it, and
to the question, "Where does the shadow come from?" he answered, to our
surprise, "From the sun" (fortieth month).
More important for the development of the child's _ego_ than are the
observation of the shadow and of the image in the glass is the learning
of speech, for it is not until words are used that the higher concepts
are first marked off from one another, and this is the case with the
concept of the _ego_. Yet the wide-spread view, that the "I"-_feeling_
first appears with the beginning of the use of the word "I," is wholly
incorrect. Many headstrong children have a strongly marked "I"-feeling
without calling themselves by anything but their names, because their
relatives in speaking with them do not call themselves "I," but "papa,
mamma, uncle, O mamma," etc., so that the opportunity early to hear and
to appropriate the words "I" and "mine" is rare. Others hear these words
often, to be sure, especially from children somewhat older, and use
them, yet do not understand them, but add to them their own names. Thus,
a girl of two and a half years, named Ilse, used to say, _Ilse mein
Tuhl_ (Ilse, my chair), instead of "mein Stuhl" (Bardeleben). My boy of
two and three fourths years repeated the "I" he heard, meaning by it
"you." In the twenty-ninth month _mir_ (me) was indeed said by him, but
not "ich" (I), (p. 171). Soon, however, he named himself no more, as he
had done in the twenty-third and even in the twenty-eighth month (pp.
147-167), by his first name. In the thirty-third month especially came
_das will ich! das möcht ich!_ (I wish that, I should like that) (p.
183). The fourfold designation of his own person in the thirty-second
month (p. 180)--by his name, by "I," by "he," and by the omission of all
pronouns--was only a brief transition-stage, as was also the
misunderstanding of the "dein" (your) which for a time (p. 156) meant
"gross" (large).
These observations plainly show that the "I"-feeling is not first
awakened by the learning of words, for this feeling, according to the
facts given above, is present much earlier; but by means of speech the
_conceptual_ distinction of the "I," the self, the mine, is first made
exact; the development, not the origin, of the "I"-feeling is simply
favored.
How obscure the "I"-concept is even after learning the use of the
personal pronouns is shown by the utterance of the four-year-old
daughter of Lindner, named Olga, _die hat mich nass gemacht_ (she has
made me wet), when she meant that she herself had done it; and _du
sollst mir doch folgen, Olga_ (but you must follow me, Olga), the latter
expression, indeed, being merely said after some one else. In her is
noteworthy, too, the confounding of the possessives "his" and "her,"
e. g., _dem Papa ihr Buch auf der Mama seinen Platz gelegt_ (her book,
papa's, laid in his place, mamma's) (Lindner); and yet in these forms of
speech there is an advance in the differentiation of the concepts.
All children are known to be late in beginning to speak about
themselves, of what they wish to become, or of that which they can
do better than others can, and the like. The _ego_ has become an
experience of consciousness long before this.
All these progressive steps, which in the individual can be traced only
with great pains, form, as it were, converging lines that culminate in
the fully developed feeling of the personality as exclusive, as distinct
from the outer world.
Thus much the purely physiological view can admit without hesitation;
but a further unification or indivisibility or unbroken permanence of
the child's _ego_, it can not reconcile with the facts, perfectly well
established by me, that are presented in this chapter.
For what is the significance of the fact, that "to the child his feet,
hands, teeth, seem a plaything foreign to himself"? and that "the child
bit his own arm as he was accustomed to bite objects with which he was
not acquainted"? "Seem" to what part of the child? What is that which
bites in the child as in the very young chick that seizes its own toe
with its bill and bites it as if it were the toe of its neighbor or a
grain of millet? Evidently the "subject" in the head is a different one
from that in the trunk. The _ego_ of the brain is other than the _ego_
of the spinal marrow (the "spinal-marrow-soul" of Pflüger). The one
speaks, sees, hears, tastes, smells, and feels; the other merely feels,
and at the beginning, so long as brain and spinal marrow have only a
loose organic connection and no functional connection at all with each
other, the two _egos_ are absolutely isolated from each other.
Newly-born children with no brain, who lived for hours and days, as I
myself saw in a case of rare interest, could suck, cry, move the limbs,
and feel (for they stopped crying and took to sucking when something
they could suck was put into their mouths when they were hungry). On the
other hand, if a human being could be born with a brain but without a
spinal marrow and could live, it would not be able to move its limbs.
When a normal babe, therefore, plays with its feet or bites itself in
the arm as it would bite a biscuit, we have in this a proof that the
brain with its perceptive apparatus is independent of the spinal marrow.
And the fact that acephalic new-born human beings and animal embryos
deprived of brain, as Soltmann and I found, move their limbs just as
sound ones do, cry just as they do, suck and respond to reflexes, proves
that the functions of the spinal marrow (inclusive of the optic thalami,
the corpora quadrigemina and the cervical marrow) are independent of the
cerebral hemispheres (together with the corpus striatum, according to
Soltmann).
Now, however, the brainless living child that sucks, cries, moves arms
and legs, and distinguishes pleasure from displeasure, has indisputably
an individuality, an _ego_. We must, then, of necessity admit two _egos_
in the child that has both cerebrum and spinal marrow, and that
represents to himself his arm as good to taste of, as something to like.
But, if two, why not several? At the beginning, when the centers of
sight, hearing, smell, and taste, in the brain are still imperfectly
developed, each of these perceives for itself, the perceptions in the
different departments of sense having as yet no connection at all with
one another. The case is like that of the spinal marrow, which at first
does not communicate, or only very imperfectly communicates, to the
brain that which it feels, e. g., the effect of the prick of a needle,
for the newly born do not generally react upon that. Only by means of
very frequent coincidences of unlike sense-impressions, in
tasting-and-touching, seeing-and-feeling, seeing-and-hearing,
seeing-and-smelling, tasting-and-smelling, hearing-and-touching, are the
intercentral connecting fibers developed, and then first can the various
representational centers, these "I"-makers, as it were, contribute, as
in the case of the ordinary formation of concepts, to the formation of
the corporate "I," which is quite abstract.
This abstract "I"-concept, that belongs only to the adult, thinking
human being, comes into existence in exactly the same way that other
concepts do, viz., by means of the individual ideas from which it
results, as e. g., the forest exists only when the trees exist. The
subordinate "I's," that preside over the separate sense-departments, are
in the little child not yet blended together, because in him the organic
connections are still lacking; which, being translated into the language
of psychology, means that he lacks the necessary power of abstraction.
The co-excitations of the sensory centers, that are as yet impressed
with too few memory-images, can not yet take place on occasion of a
single excitation, the cerebral connecting fibers being as yet too
scanty.
These co-excitations of parts of the brain functionally different, on
occasion of excitation of a part of the brain that has previously often
been excited together with those, form the physiological foundation of
the psychical phenomenon of the formation of concepts in general, and so
of the formation of the "I"-concept. For the special ideas of all
departments of sense have in all beings possessed of all the senses--or
of four senses, or of three--the common quality of coming into existence
only under conditions of time, space, and causality. This common
property presupposes similar processes in every separate sense-center of
the highest rank. Excitations of one of these centers easily effect
similar co-excitations of centers that have often been excited together
with them through objective impressions, and it is this similar
co-excitement extending itself over the cerebral centers of all the
nerves of sense that evokes the composite idea of the "I."
According to this view, therefore, the "I" can not exist as a unit, as
undivided, as uninterrupted; it exists only when the separate
departments of sense are active with their _egos_, out of which the "I"
is abstracted; e. g., it disappears in dreamless sleep. In the waking
condition it has continued existence only where the centro-sensory
excitations are most strongly in force; i. e., where the attention is on
the strain.
Still less, however, is the "I" an aggregate. For this presupposes the
exchangeability of the component parts. The seeing _ego_, however, can
just as little have its place made good by a substitute as can the
hearing one, the tasting one, etc. The sum-total of the separate leaves,
blossoms, stalks, roots, of the plant does not, by a great deal,
constitute the plant. The parts must be joined together in a special
manner. So, likewise, it is not enough to add together the
characteristics common to the separate sense-representations in order to
obtain from these the regulating and controlling "I." Rather there
results from the increasing number and manifoldness of the
sense-impressions a continually increasing growth of the gray substance
of the child's cerebrum, a rapid increase of the intercentral connecting
fibers, and through this a readier co-excitement--association, so
called--which unites feeling with willing and thinking in the child.
This union is the "I," the sentient and emotive, the desiring and
willing, the perceiving and thinking "I."
CHAPTER XX.
SUMMARY OF RESULTS.
Of all the facts that have been established by me through the
observation of the child in the first years of his life, the _formation
of concepts without language_ is most opposed to the traditional
doctrines, and it is just this on which I lay the greatest stress.
It has been demonstrated that the human being, at the very beginning of
his life, not only distinguishes pleasure and discomfort, but may also
have single, distinct sensations. He behaves on the first day
differently, when the appropriate sense-impressions exist, from what he
does when they are lacking. The first effect of these feelings, these
few sensations, is the association of their traces, left behind in the
central nervous system, with inborn movements. Those traces or central
impressions develop gradually the personal _memory_. These movements are
the point of departure for the primitive activity of the intellect,
which separates the sensations both in time and in space. When the
number of the memory-images, of distinct sensations, on the one hand, on
the other, of the movements that have been associated with them--e. g.,
"sweet" and "sucking"--has become larger, then a firmer association of
sensation-and-movement-memories, i. e., of excitations of sensory and
motor ganglionic cells takes place, so that excitement of the one brings
with it co-excitement of the other. Sucking awakens the recollection of
the sweet taste; the sweet taste of itself causes sucking. This
succession is already a separation _in time_ of two sensations (the
sweet and the motor sensation in sucking). The separation in space
requires the recollection of two sensations, each with one movement; the
distinction between sucking at the left breast and sucking at the right
is made after one trial. With this, the first act of the intellect is
performed, the first perception made, i. e., a sensation first localized
in time and space. The motor sensation of sucking has come, like the
sweet taste, _after_ a similar one, and it has come between two unlike
relations in space that were distinguished. By means of multiplied
perceptions (e. g., luminous fields not well defined, but yet defined)
and multiplied movements with sensations of touch, the perception, after
considerable time, acquires an object; i. e., the intellect, which
already allowed nothing bright to appear without boundary-lines, and
thus allowed nothing bright to appear except in space (whereas at the
beginning brightness, as was the case even later with sound, had no
limitation, no demarcation), begins to assign a cause for that which is
perceived. Hereby perception is raised to _representation_. The
often-felt, localized, sweet, warm, white wetness, which is associated
with sucking, now forms an idea, and one of the earliest ideas. When,
now, this idea has often arisen, the separate perceptions that have been
necessary to its formation are united more and more firmly. Then, when
one of these latter appears for itself, the memory-images of the others
will also appear, through co-excitement of the ganglionic cells
concerned; but this means simply that the _concept_ is now in existence.
For the concept has its origin in the union of attributes. Attributes
are perceived, and the memory-images of them, that is, accordingly,
memory-images of separate perceptions, are so firmly associated that,
where only one appears in the midst of entirely new impressions, the
concept yet emerges, because all the other images appear along with it.
Language is not required for this. Up to this point, those born deaf
behave exactly like infants that have all the senses, and like some
animals that form concepts.
These few first ideas, namely, the individual ideas, or sense-intuitions
that are generated by the first perceptions, and the simple general
ideas (of a lower order), or concepts, arising out of these--the
concepts of the child as yet without language, of microcephali also, of
deaf-mutes, and of the higher animals--have now this peculiarity, that
they have all been formed exactly in this way by the parents and the
grandparents and the representatives of the successive generations (such
notions as those of "food," "breast"). These concepts are not innate;
because no idea can be innate, for the reason that several peripheral
impressions are necessary for the formation of even a single perception.
They are, however, inherited. Just as the teeth and the beard are not
usually innate in man, but come and grow like those of the parents and
are already implanted, piece for piece, in the new-born child, and are
thus hereditary, so the first ideas of the infant, his first concepts,
which arise unconsciously, without volition and without the possibility
of inhibition, in every individual in the same way, must be called
hereditary. Different as are the teeth from the germs of teeth in the
newly-born, so different are the man's concepts, clear, sharply defined
by words, from the child's ill-defined, obscure concepts, which arise
quite independently of all language (of word, look, or gesture).
In this wise the old doctrine of "innate ideas" becomes clear. Ideas or
thoughts are themselves either representations or combinations of
representations. They thus presuppose perceptions, and can not
accordingly be innate, but may some of them be inherited, those, viz.,
which at first, by virtue of the likeness between the brain of the child
and that of the parent, and of the similarity between the external
circumstances of the beginnings of life in child and parent, always
arise in the same manner.
The principal thing is the innate aptitude to perceive things and to
form ideas, i. e., the innate intellect. By aptitude (Anlage), however,
can be understood nothing else at present than a manner of reacting, a
sort of capability or excitability, impressed upon the central organs of
the nervous system after repeated association of nervous excitations
(through a great many generations in the same way).
The brain comes into the world provided with a great number of
impressions upon it. Some of these are quite obscure, some few are
distinct. Each ancestor has added his own to those previously existing.
Among these impressions, finally, the useless ones must soon be
obliterated by those that are useful. On the other hand, deep
impressions will, like wounds, leave behind scars, which abide longer;
and very frequently used paths of connection between different portions
of the brain and spinal marrow and the organs of sense are easier to
travel even at birth (instinctive and reflexive processes).
Now, of all the higher functions of the brain, the ordering one, which
compares the simple, pure sensations, the original experiences, and
first sets them in an order of succession, viz., arranges them in time,
then puts them side by side and one above another, and, not till later,
one behind another, viz., arranges them in space--this function is one
of the oldest. This ordering of the sense-impressions is _an activity of
the intellect that has nothing to do with speech_, and the _capacity_
for it is, as Immanuel Kant discovered, present in man "as he now is"
(Kant) _before_ the activity of the senses begins; but without this
activity it can not assert itself.
Now, I maintain, and in doing so I take my stand upon the facts
published in this book, that just as little as the intellect of the
child not yet able to speak has need of words or looks or gestures, or
any symbol whatever, in order to arrange in time and space the
sense-impressions, so little does that intellect require those means in
order to form concepts and to perform logical operations; and in this
fundamental fact I see the material for bridging over the only great
gulf that separates the child from the brute animal.
That even physiologists deny that there is any passage from one to the
other is shown by Vierordt in his "Physiology of Infancy" (1877).
The fundamental fact that a genuinely logical activity of the brain goes
on without language of any sort, in the adult man who has the faculty of
speech, was discovered by Helmholtz. The logical functions called by him
"unconscious inferences" begin, as I think I have shown by many
observations in the newly-born, immediately with the activity of the
senses. Perception in the third dimension of space is a particularly
clear example of this sort of logical activity without words, because it
is developed slowly.
In place of the expression "unconscious," which, because it has caused
much mischief, still prevents the term "unconscious inferences" from
being naturalized in the physiology of the senses and the theory of
perception, it would be advisable, since "instinctive" and "intuitive"
are still more easily misunderstood, to say "wordless." Wordless ideas,
wordless concepts, wordless judgments, wordless inferences, may be
inherited. To these belong such as our progenitors often experienced at
the beginning of life, such as not only come into existence without the
participation of any medium of language whatever, but also are never
even willed (intended, deliberate, voluntary), and can not under any
circumstances be set aside or altered, whether to be corrected or
falsified. An inherited defect can not be put aside, and neither can the
inherited intellect. When the outer angle at the right of the eye is
pressed upon, a light appears in the closed eye at the left, not at the
right; not at the place touched. This optical illusion, which was known
even in Newton's day, this wordless inductive inference, is hereditary
and incorrigible; and, on the other hand, the hereditary wordless
_concept_ of food can neither be prevented from arising nor be set aside
nor be formed otherwise than it was formed by our ancestors.
Innate, to make it once more prominent, is the faculty (the capacity,
the aptitude, the potential function) of forming concepts, and some of
the first concepts are hereditary. New (not hereditary) concepts arise
only after new perceptions, i. e., after experiences that associate
themselves with the primitive ones by means of new connecting paths in
the brain, and they begin in fact before the learning of speech.
A chick just out of the shell possesses the capacity to lay eggs--the
organs necessary--in fact the future eggs are inborn in the creature;
but only after some time does it lay eggs, and these are in every
respect similar to the first eggs of its mother. Indeed, the chicks that
come from these eggs resemble those of the mother herself; thus the eggs
have hereditary properties. New eggs originate only by crossing, by
external influences of all sorts, influences, therefore, of experience.
So, too, the new-born child possesses the capacity of forming concepts.
The organs necessary for that are inborn in him, but not till after some
time does he form concepts, and these are in all nations and at all
times quite similar to the first concepts formed by the child's mother.
Indeed, the inferences that attach themselves to the first concepts will
resemble those which were developed in the mother or will be identical
with them; these concepts have, then, hereditary properties. New
concepts originate only through experience. They originate in great
numbers in every child that learns to speak.
If the fact that children utterly ignorant of speech, even those born
deaf, already perform logical operations with perfect correctness,
proves the intellect to be independent of language, yet searching
observation of the child that is learning to speak shows that only by
means of verbal language can the intellect give precision to its
primitive indistinct concepts and thereby develop itself further,
connecting ideas appropriately with the circumstances in which the child
lives.
It is a settled fact, however, that many ideas must already be formed in
order to make possible the acquirement of speech. The existence of ideas
is a necessary condition of learning to speak.
The greatest intellectual advance in this field consists in this, that
the specific method of the human race is discovered by the speechless
child--the method of expressing ideas aloud and articulately, i. e., by
means of expirations of breath along with various positions of the
larynx and the mouth and various movements of the tongue. No child
_invents_ this method, it is _transmitted_; but each individual child
_discovers_ that by means of sounds thus originating one can make known
his ideas and thereby induce feelings of pleasure and do away with
discomfort. Therefore he applies himself to this process of himself,
without instruction, provided only that he grows up among speaking
people; and even where hearing, which serves as a means of intercourse
with them, is wanting from birth, a life rich in ideas and an
intelligence of a high order may be developed, provided that written
signs of sound supply the place of sounds heard. These signs, however,
can be learned only by means of instruction. The way in which writing is
learned is the same as the way in which the alalic child learns to
speak. Both rest upon imitation.
I have shown that the first firm association of an idea with a syllable
or with a word-like combination of syllables, takes place exclusively
through imitation; but a union of this sort being once established, the
child then freely invents new combinations, although to a much more
limited extent than is commonly assumed. No one brings with him into the
world a genius of such quality that it would be capable of inventing
articulate speech. It is difficult enough to comprehend that imitation
suffices for the child to learn a language.
What organic conditions are required for the imitation of sounds and for
learning to speak I have endeavored to ascertain by means of a
systematic collection, resting on the best pathological investigations,
of all the disturbances of speech thus far observed in adults; and the
daily observation of a sound child, who was kept away from all training
as far as possible, as well as the frequent observation of other
children, has brought me to the following important result:
That every known form of disturbance of speech in adults finds its
perfect counterpart in the child that is learning to speak.
The child can not _yet_ speak correctly, because his impressive,
central, and expressive organs of speech are not yet completely
developed. The adult patient can _no longer_ speak correctly, because
those parts are no longer complete or capable of performing their
functions. The parallelism is perfect even to individual cases, if
children of various ages are carefully observed in regard to their
acquirement of speech. As to facts of a more general nature, we arrive,
then, at the three following:
1. The normal infant understands spoken language much earlier than he
can himself produce through imitation the sounds, syllables, and words
he hears.
2. The normal child, however, before he begins to speak or to imitate
correctly the sounds of language, forms of his own accord all or nearly
all the sounds that occur in his future speech and very many others
besides, and delights in doing it.
3. The order of succession in which the sounds of speech are produced by
the infant is different with different individuals, and consequently is
not determined by the principle of the least effort. It is dependent
upon several factors--brain, teeth, size of the tongue, acuteness of
hearing, motility, and others. Only in the later, intentional,
sound-formations and attempts at speaking does that principle come under
consideration.
In the acquirement of every complicated muscular movement, dancing,
e. g., the difficult combinations which make a greater strain on the
activity of the will are in like manner acquired last.
Heredity plays no part in this, for every child can learn to master
perfectly any language, provided he hears from birth only the one to be
learned. The plasticity of the inborn organs of speech is thus in the
earliest childhood very great.
To follow farther the influence that the use of speech as a means of
understanding has upon the intellectual development of the child lies
outside the problem dealt with in this book. Let me, in conclusion,
simply give a brief estimate of the questioning-activity that makes its
appearance very early after the first attempts at speech, and also add a
few remarks on the development of the _"I"-feeling_.
The child's questioning as a means of his culture is almost universally
underrated. The interest in causality that unfolds itself more and more
vigorously with the learning of speech, the asking why, which is often
almost unendurable to parents and educators, is fully justified, and
ought not, as unfortunately is too often the case, to be unheeded,
purposely left unanswered, purposely answered falsely. I have from the
beginning given to my boy, to the best of my knowledge invariably, an
answer to his questions intelligible to him and not contrary to truth,
and have noticed that in consequence at a later period, in the fifth and
the sixth and especially in the seventh year, the questions prove to be
more and more intelligent, because the previous answers are retained.
If, on the contrary, we do not answer at all, or if we answer with jests
and false tales, it is not to be wondered at that a child even of
superior endowments puts foolish and absurd questions and thinks
illogically--a thing that rarely occurs where questions are rightly
answered and fitting instruction is given, to say nothing of rearing the
child to superstition. The only legend in which I allow my boy to have
firm faith is that of the stork that brings new babes, and what goes
along with that.
With regard to the development of the "I"--feeling the following holds
good:
This feeling does not awake on the day when the child uses for the
first time the word "I" instead of his own name--the date of such
use varies according as those about it name themselves and the child
by the proper name and not by the pronoun for a longer or a shorter
period; but the "I" is separated from the "not-I" after a long
series of experiences, chiefly of a painful sort, as these
observations have made clear, through the _becoming accustomed to
the parts of one's own body_. These, which at first are foreign
objects, affect the child's organs of sense always in the same
manner, and thereby become uninteresting after they have lost the
charm of novelty. Now, his own body is that to which the attractive
objective impressions (i. e., the world) are referred, and with the
production by him of new impressions, with the changes wrought by
him (in the experimenting which is called "playing"), with the
experience of being-a-cause, is developed more and more in the child
the feeling of self. With this he raises himself higher and higher
above the dependent condition of the animal, so that at last the
difference, not recognizable at all before birth and hardly
recognizable at the beginning after birth, between animal and human
being attains a magnitude dangerous for the latter, attains it,
above all, by means of language.
But if it is necessary for the child to appropriate to himself as
completely as possible this highest privilege of the human race and
through this to overcome the animal nature of his first period; if his
development requires the stripping off of the remains of the animal and
the unfolding of the responsible "I"--then it will conduce to the
highest satisfaction of the thinking man, at the summit of his
experience of life, to go back in thought to his earliest childhood, for
that period teaches him plainly that he himself has his origin in
nature, is intimately related to all other living creatures. However far
he gets in his development, he is ever groping vainly in the dark for a
door into another world; but the very fact of his reflecting upon the
possibility of such a door shows how high the developed human being
towers above all his fellow-beings.
The key to the understanding of the great enigma, how these extremes are
connected, is furnished in the history of the development of the mind of
the child.
APPENDIXES.
A.
COMPARATIVE OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING THE ACQUIREMENT OF SPEECH BY GERMAN
AND FOREIGN CHILDREN.
Among the earlier as among the later statements concerning the
acquirement of speech, there are several that have been put forth by
writers on the subject without a sufficient basis of observed facts. Not
only Buffon, but also Taine and his successors, have, from a few
individual cases, deduced general propositions which are not of general
application.
Good observations were first supplied in Germany by Berthold Sigismund
in his pamphlet, "Kind und Welt" ("The Child and the World") (1856); but
his observations were scanty.
He noted, as the first articulate sounds made by a child from Thüringen
(Rudolstadt), _ma_, _ba_, _bu_, _appa_, _ange_, _anne_, _brrr_, _arrr_:
these were made about the middle of the first three months.
Sigismund is of the opinion that this first lisping, or babbling,
consists in the production of syllables with only two sounds, of which
the consonant is most often the first; that the first consonants
distinctly pronounced are labials; that the lips, brought into activity
by sucking, are the first organs of articulation; but this conjecture
lacks general confirmation.
In the second three months (in the case of one child in the twenty-third
week, with other healthy children considerably earlier) were heard, for
the first time, the loud and high _crowing_-sounds, uttered by the child
spontaneously, jubilantly, with lively movements of the limbs that
showed the waxing power of the muscles: the child seemed to take
pleasure in making the sounds. The utterance of syllables, on the other
hand, is at this period often discontinued for weeks at a time.
In the third quarter of the first year, the lisping or stammering was
more frequent. New sounds were added: _bä_, _fbu_, _fu_; and the
following were among those that were repeated without cessation,
_bäbäbä_, _dädädä_; also _adad_, _eded_.
In the next three months the child manifested his satisfaction in any
object by the independent sound _ei_, _ei_. The first imitations of
sounds, proved to be such, were made after the age of eleven months. But
it is more significant, for our comprehension of the process of learning
to speak, that long before the boy tried to imitate words or gestures,
viz., at the age of nine months, he distinguished accurately the words
"father, mother, light, window, moon, lane"; for he looked, or pointed,
at the object designated, as soon as one of these words was spoken.
And when, finally, imitation began, musical tones, e. g., F, C, were
imitated sooner than the spoken sounds, although the former were an
octave higher. And the _ei_, _ei_ was repeated in pretty nearly the same
tone or accent in which it had been pronounced for the child. Sneezing
was not imitated till after fourteen months. The first word imitated by
the child of his own accord (after fourteen months) was the cry
"Neuback" (fresh-bake), as it resounded from the street; it was given
back by the child, unsolicited, as _ei-a_. As late as the sixteenth
month he replied to the word _papa_, just as he did to the word _Ida_,
only with _atta_; yet he had in the mean time learned to understand
"lantern, piano, stove, bird, nine-pin, pot"--in all, more than twenty
words--and to indicate by a look the objects named; he had also learned
to make the new imperfect sounds _pujéh_, _pujéh_, _tupe tupe téh_,
_ämmäm_, _atta_, _ho_.
In the seventeenth month came in place of these sounds the babbled
syllables _mäm_, _mam_, _mad-am_, _a-dam_, _das_; in the case of other
children, syllables different from these. Children often say several
syllables in quick succession, "then suddenly stop as if they were
thinking of something new--actually strain, as if they must exert
themselves to bring their organs to utterance, until at last a new sound
issues, and then this is repeated like the clack of a mill." Along with
this appears the frequent doubling of syllables, as in _papa_, _mama_.
The boy, at twenty months, told his father the following, with pretty
long pauses and animated gestures:
_atten--beene--titten--bach--eine--puff--anna_, i. e., "Wir waren im
Garten, haben Beeren und Kirschen gegessen, und in den Bach Steine
geworfen; dann kam Anna" (we were in the garden, ate berries and
cherries, and threw stones into the brook; then Anna came).
The observations of Sigismund are remarkable for their objectivity,
their clearness of exposition, and their accuracy, and they agree with
mine, as may easily be seen, in many respects perfectly. Unfortunately,
this excellent observer (long since deceased) did not finish his work.
The first part only has appeared. Moreover, the statements as to the
date of the first imitations (see pp. 83, 108, 109, 118, 121) are not
wholly in accord with one another.
I. E. Löbisch, likewise a physician, in his "Entwickelungsgeschichte der
Seele des Kindes" ("History of the Development of the Mind of the
Child," Vienna, 1851, p. 68), says: "Naturally the first sound formed in
the mouth, which is more or less open, while the other organs of speech
are inactive, is the sound resembling _a_, which approximates sometimes
more, sometimes less, nearly to the _e_ and the _o_.[D]
"Of the consonants the first are those formed by closing and opening the
lips: _m_, _b_, _p_; these are at first indistinct and not decidedly
differentiated till later; then the _m_ naturally goes not only before
the _a_ but also after it; _b_ and _p_ for a long time merely commence a
syllable, and rarely close one until other consonants also have been
formed. A child soon says _pa_, but certainly does not say _ab_ until he
can already pronounce other consonants also (p. 79).
"The order in which the sounds are produced by the child is the
following: Of the vowels, first _a_, _e_, _o_, _u_, of course not well
distinguished from _a_ at the beginning; the last vowel is _i_. Of the
consonants, _m_ is the first, and it passes by way of the _w_ into _b_
and _p_. But here we may express our astonishment that so many writers
on the subject of the order of succession of the consonants in the
development of speech have assigned so late a date to the formation of
the _w_; Schwarz puts it even after _t_, and before _r_ and _s_. Then
come _d_, _t_; then _l_ and _n_; _n_ is easily combined with _d_ when it
precedes _d_; next _f_ and the gutturals _h_, _ch_, _g_, _k_, the _g_
and _k_ often confounded with _d_ and _t_. _S_ and _r_ are regarded as
nearly simultaneous in their appearance; the gutturals as coming later,
the latest of them being _ch_. Still, there is a difference in this
respect in different children. For many produce a sound resembling _r_
among the first consonant sounds; so too _ä_, _ö_, _ü_; the diphthongs
proper do not come till the last."
These statements of Löbisch, going, as they do, far beyond pure
observation, can not all be regarded as having general validity. For
most German children, at least, even those first adduced can scarcely
claim to be well founded.
H. Taine (in the supplement to his book on "Intelligence," which
appeared in a German translation in 1880) noted, as expressions used by
a French child in the fifteenth month, _papa_, _maman_, _tété_ (nurse,
evidently a word taken from the word _têter_, "to nurse or suck at the
breast"), _oua-oua_ (dog, in all probability a word said for the child
to repeat), _koko_ (cock, no doubt from _coq-coq_, which had been said
for the child), _dada_ (horse, carriage, indicating other objects also,
no doubt; a demonstrative word, as it is with many German children).
_Tem_ was uttered without meaning for two weeks; then it signified
"give, take, look, pay attention." I suspect that we have here a
mutilation of the strongly accentuated _tiens_, which had probably been
often heard. As early as the fourteenth month, _ham_ signified "I want
to eat" (_hamm_, then _am_, might have had its origin in the echo of
_faim, as-tu faim?_ (are you hungry?)). At the age of three and a half
months this child formed only vowels, according to the account; at
twelve months she twittered and uttered first _m-m_, then _kraaau_,
_papa_, with varying intonation, but spoke no word with a recognizable
meaning. In the tenth month there was an understanding of some
questions. For the child, when asked "Where is grandpapa?" smiled at the
portrait of the grandfather, but not at the one of the grandmother,
which was not so good a likeness. In the eleventh month, at the
question "Where is mamma?" the child would turn toward her mother, and
in like manner toward the father at the question, "papa"?
A second child observed by Taine made utterances that had intellectual
significance in the seventh week, for the first time. Up to the age of
five months _ah_, _gue_, _gre_ (French) were heard; in the seventh
month, also _ata_, _ada_.
In his reflections, attached to these and a few other observations of
his own, Taine rightly emphasizes the great power of generalization and
the peculiarity the very young child had of associating with words it
had heard other notions than those common with us; but he ascribes too
much to the child's inventive genius. The child guesses more than it
discovers, and the very cases adduced (_hamm_, _tem_), on which he lays
great weight, may be traced, as I remarked above parenthetically, to
something heard by the child; this fact he seems to have himself quite
overlooked. It is true, that in the acquirement of speech _one_ word may
have several different meanings in succession, as is especially the case
with the word _bébé_ (corresponding to the English word _baby_), almost
universal with French children; it is not true that a child without
imitation of sounds invents a word with a fixed meaning, and that, with
no help or suggestion from members of the family, it employs its
imperfectly uttered syllables (Lallsylben) consistently for designating
its ideas.
Among the notes of Wyma concerning an English child ("The Mental
Development of the Infant of To-day," in the "Journal of Psychological
Medicine and Mental Pathology," vii, Part I, pp. 62-69, London, April,
1881), the following, relating to the acquisition of speech, are to be
mentioned:
At five months the child began to use a kind of language, consisting of
six words, to indicate a desire or intention. _Ning_ signified desire
for milk, and was employed for that up to the age of two years. (The
word may possibly have been derived from the word _milk_,[E] frequently
heard.) At nine months the child made use of the words _pretty things_
for animals; at ten months it formed many small sentences.
The child practiced itself in speaking, even without direct imitation of
words just spoken, for at the age of two years it began to say over a
number of nursery rhymes that nobody in the house knew, and that could
not have been learned from other children, because the child had no
intercourse with such. At a later period the child declared that the
rhymes had been learned from a former nurse, whom it had not seen for
nearly three months. Thus the articulation was perfecting itself for
weeks before it was understood. The exercises of the child sounded like
careless reading aloud.
The book of Prof. Ludwig Strümpell, of Leipsic, "Psychologische
Pädagogik" (Leipsic, 1880, 368 pages), contains an appendix, "Notizen
über die geistige Entwickelung eines weiblichen Kindes während der
ersten zwei Lebensjahre" ("Notes on the Mental Development of a Female
Child during the First Two Years of Life"); in this are many
observations that relate to the learning of speech. These are from the
years 1846 and 1847.
In the tenth week, _ah! ah!_ was an utterance of joy; in the thirteenth,
the child sings, all alone; in the nineteenth comes the guttural
utterance, _grrr_, but no consonant is assigned to this period. In the
first half-year are heard distinctly, in the order given, _ei_, _aga_,
_eigei_, _ja_, _ede_, _dede_, _eds_, _edss_, _emme_, _meme_, _nene_,
_nein_. In the eighth month, there is unmistakable understanding of what
is said; e. g., "Where is the tick-tack?" In the ninth, _am_, _amme_,
_ap_, _pap_, are said; she sings vowels that are sung for her. In the
eleventh month, imitation of sounds is frequent, _kiss_, _kiss_; at
sight of the tea-kettle, _ssi_, _ssi_; she knows all the people in the
house; calls the birds by the strange name _tibu_. Echolalia. In the
fourteenth month, needles are called _tick_ (_stich_ = prick or stitch).
To the question, "Where is Emmy?" the child points, correctly, to
herself; says distinctly, _Kopf_ (head), _Buch_ (book), _roth_ (red),
_Tante_ (aunt), _gut_ (good), _Mann_ (man), _Baum_ (tree); calls the eye
(Auge) _ok_, Pruscinsky _prrti_, the dog _uf, uf_. In the seventeenth
month, simple sentences are spoken; she speaks to herself. In the
nineteenth month, she calls herself by her name, and counts _twei_,
_drei_, _ümpf_, _exe_, _ibene_, _atte_, _neune_ (zwei, drei, fünf,
sechs, sieben, acht, neun--2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9); in the twenty-second
month, she talks a good deal to herself, and makes very rapid progress
in the correct use of words and the formation of sentences.
From the diary kept by Frau von Strümpell concerning this daughter and a
sister of this one, and kindly placed at my disposal in the original, I
take the following notes: In the eighth month, _mamma_, in the tenth,
_papa_, without meaning. In the eleventh month, the child's
understanding of what is said to her is surprising, and so is her
imitation. To "Guten Tag" (good-day) she responds, _tata_; to "Adieu,"
_adaa_. A book, which the child likes to turn the leaves of, she calls
_ade_ (for a b c). The first certain association of a sound learned with
a concept seems to be that of the _ee_, which has often been said to
her, with wet, or with what is forbidden. _Amme am_ _om_, "Amme komm"
(nurse come) (both imitative), is most frequently repeated, _papa_
seldom. The _r_ guttural, or rattled, is imperfectly imitated. In the
thirteenth month, the little girl says, _tippa tappa_, when she wants to
be carried, and responds _te te_ to "steh! steh" (stop)! She now calls
the book _a-be-te_ (for a b c). Pigeons she calls _kurru_; men, in the
picture-book, _mann mann_. When some one asked, "Where is the brush?"
the child made the motion of brushing. To the questions, "Where is your
ear, your tooth, nose, hand, your fingers, mamma's ear, papa's nose?"
etc., she points correctly to the object. On her mother's coming into
the room, _mamam_; her father's, _papap_. When the nurse is gone, _amme
om, amme am_. The mother asked some one, "Do you hear?" and the child
looked at her and took hold of her own ears. To the question, "How do we
eat?" she makes the motion of eating. She says _nein_ when she means to
refuse. "Dank" (thank) is pronounced _dakkn_. "Bitte" (I beg, or please)
is correctly pronounced. She understands the meaning of spoon, dress,
mirror, mouth, plate, drink, and many other words, and likes to hear
stories, especially when they contain the words already known to her. In
the fifteenth month "Mathilde" is given by her as _tilda_ and _tida_. At
sight of a faded bouquet she said _blom_ (for Blume, flower). She says
everything that is said to her, though imperfectly; produces the most
varied articulate sounds; says _ta, papa, ta_ when she hands anything to
a person; calls the foot (Fuss) _pss_, lisping and thrusting out the
tongue. She often says _omama_ and _opapa_. In the seventeenth month,
Ring is called _ning_, Wagen (carriage), _uagen_, Sophie, _dsofi_, Olga,
_olla_ krank (ill), _kank_, Pflaume (plum), _pluma_, satt (satisfied, as
to hunger), _datt_, Hände-waschen (washing the hands), _ander-uaschen_,
Schuh and Tuch (shoe and cloth), _tu_, Strumpf (stocking), _tumpf_, Hut
(hat), _ut_, Suppe (soup), _duppe_. _Mama kum bild dat bank_, is for
"Mama komm, ich habe das Bilderbuch, erzähle mir dazu etwas, dort setz'
Dich zu mir" (M., come, I have the picture-book; tell me something in
it; sit there by me). In the eighteenth month, "Where is Omama?" is
answered with _im garten_; "How are Omama and Opapa?" with _sund_ (for
gesund, well); "What is Omama doing?" with _näht_ (she is sewing). The
black Apollo is called _pollo wurz_ (schwarz, black).
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; _tj[=e]-t[=e]_ 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_, _päsche_ (Equipage), _wasar tinken_ (Wasser trinken,
drink water) _dabel_ (Gabel, fork), _lüssel_ (Schlüssel, 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 _mömm_ when he was hungry, and that a
child observed by Fritz Schultze (Dresden) said _mäm-mäm_. 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 _ä_. This
is true of many other children also. In the third and fourth months the
following syllables were recognizable: _mam_, _ämma_, _fu_, _pfu_,
_ess_, _äng_, _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 bös, naughty);
_bebe_ (Besen, _beesann_, broom); _webbe_ (Wasser, _watja_, water);
_wewe_ (Löwe, _löwee_, lion); _ewebau_ (Elephant, _elafant_); _webenau_
(Fledermaus, _lebamaunz_, bat); _babaube_ (Blasebalg, _ba-abats_,
bellows); _ade_ (Hase, hare); _emele_ (Schemel, footstool); _gigod_
(Schildkröte, 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 (Tübingen).
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 gäge_ [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 Zuckerhäuschen
gegangen
_unn habe gäg_ und haben gegessen;
_no ad die egg gag_ dann hat die Hexe gesagt:
_näg näg neidi_ "Nucker, Nucker Neisle
_wie. immi. eidi_ wer [krabbelt] mir am Haüsle?"
_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) geh[=o]l (ohlt)._
_dann sint (dsint) sie an ain utsom-händom (zuke-häussn) 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 häultje (äusle)._
_dann baben (habn) die ... (tinder) ze-a (dsagt)._
_der wi[)e]ds (wind) ... (der fint)._
_ds[=e]r wenn daz (das) himmelä (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 _himmelä_, and then _himmliss_, for "himmlische."
A third boy (Düsseldorf) 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
_uckerhäussen_ " Zuckerhäuschen
_hekes_ " Hexe
_neissel_ " neisle
_häussel_ " Häusle
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_, _wi[)e]ds_, _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 Düsseldorf
(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
fühle büne felam fühle fühle
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
Thränen tänen tänen thränen tänen
fliessen bieten flietjam fliessen fliessen
und mein und mein und mein und mein und mein
Herz so ätz 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_
| _ätte_ _ämme_ _dodo_
| _tate_ _ämmäm_ _päd_
| _fatte_ _mämme_
[ _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. _adé_ _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): _bä_, _put_, _gikgak_, _wäkwäk_, _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;
_päpä_ for verborgen (hidden); _eichönten_ for Eichhörnchen (squirrel);
_äpften_ for Äpfelchen (little apple); _mädsen_ and _mädis_ for Mädchen
(girl); _atatt_ for Bernhard; _hundis_ for Hundchen, the Thüringian form
of Hündchen (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 möcht ich" (I want to get up in the lap); _auf_ for "hinauf
möchte 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 complètes," Paris, 1844, iv, pp. 68, 69),
and, in spite of Littré, again quite recently by B. Perez[F] ("Les trois
premières Années 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.
Ä; 2. A; 3. U; 4. O; 5. E; 6. I; 7. Ö; 8. Ü. It is correct that _ä_ 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 _ä_ is produced with less of effort than is _a_. The
reverse is the case. Further, _ö_ is said to present "enormous
difficulties," and hence has the place next to the last; but I have
often heard the _ö_, 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_, _ä_, _a_, _ö_, _o_, _ai_, _ao_,
_i_, _e_, _ü_, _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 _ü_ 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 _ä_, 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-ä_ 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 _ärrä_, which was uttered for months. Also _äckn_ 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: _ómama_, _oia_ (Rosa),
_batta_ (Bertha), _ächard_ (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 wäde
much_ for "ein frommes Kind lass werden mich" (let me become a pious
child). Lindner's child, however, called "werden" not _wäde_ 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 _gebhüte_ for "behüte." "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_; "Sparbüchse" (savings-box)
_babichse_, _spabichse_, _spassbüchse_, _sparzbüchse_; "Häring"
(herring, also gold-fish) _hänging_. 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 _où?_),
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
_ärä_, _hägä_, _äche_, 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
_t[)e]_, _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 _täte_ (for
_Käte_). 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; _täte_ for _Käte_ (F_{1}); _ida_, _papa_,
_tata_ for _Tante_ (aunt); _täte_ (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); _w[=a]n_ for
_Schwan_ (swan); _nine_ for _Kaninchen_ (rabbit); _betta_ for _Blätter_
(leaves); _butta_ for _Butterblume_ (buttercup); _fiedemann_ for
_Friedemann_; _täti_ for _Käti_ (F_{1}); _gad_ for _gerade_ (straight);
_kumm_ for _krumm_ (crooked) (F_{3}).
XX. _fidat_ for _Zwieback_ (biscuit); _tierdatten_ for _Thiergarten_
(zoölogical garden); _waden_ for _wagen_ (carriage); _nähnaden_ for
_Nähnadel_ (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}); _tü_ for _Thür_ (door); _bau_ for _bauen_
(build); _teta_ for _Käte_; _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 _Blümelein_ (little
flowers); _mamase_ for _Mamachen_ (little mama); _tettern_ for
_klettern_ (climb); _Papa weint nis_ (Papa doesn't cry), first sentence
(F_{1}); _Mamase, Täte artig--Tuss_ (means _Mamachen, Käte 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);
_büda_ for _Brüderchen_ (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
_äh-äh-äh_; 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 _ö-[)e]_ 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 Strümpell). 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 Müller, 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. Fürbringer). 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 comparée 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'éducation 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 _ä_ 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_, _agö_, _äou_, _ogö_, _eia_; then _l_ came in, _ül_.
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_, _bäb-ä_ are added. _Agö_ also is often said, and _ö_
still more often. This _ö_ 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 _ö, ö_.
If any one is called, the child calls in a very loud voice, _Ö,
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 _dädädädä_, 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, _mämmä_ 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 _ö_, but
_äda_ (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,
_äch, äch, äch!_
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_, _ädo_, and _äd_, 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 _gäk,
gäk_, 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 _ö_; 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 _mämmä_ 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) _pâati_ and _pâa_,
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 _üppa_, 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 Grünberg, 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 Häuslein?"
(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 "Möpschen," 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. Æsop'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 über 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 Rösch
(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° 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.
These observations upon a human child, two days old, unquestionably
acephalous, i. e., absolutely without cerebrum, but as to the rest of
its body not in the least abnormal, prove what I have already advanced
(vol. i, p. 203), that the cerebrum takes no part at all in the first
movements of the newly-born. In this respect the extremely rare case of
an acephalous child, living for some days, supplies the place of an
experiment of vivisection. Unfortunately, the child died so early that I
could not carry on further observations and experiments. The report of
the _post-mortem_ examination will be published by itself.
Every observer of young children knows the great variety in the rapidity
of their development, and will agree with me in general that a slow and
steady development of the cerebral functions in the first four years,
but especially in the first two years, justifies a more favorable
prognosis than does a very hasty and unsteady development; but when
during that period of time there occurs a complete and prolonged
interruption of the mental development, then the danger is always great
that the normal course will not be resumed. So much the more
instructive, therefore, are the cases in which the children after such a
standstill have come back to the normal condition. Four observations of
this kind have been published by R. Demme ("19. Bericht über das
Jenner'sche Kinderspital in Bern, 1882," S. 31 bis 52). These are of so
great interest in their bearing on psychogenesis, and they confirm in so
striking a manner some of the propositions laid down by me in this book,
that I should like to print them here word for word, especially as the
original does not appear to have found a wide circulation; but that
would make my book altogether too large. I confine myself, therefore, to
this reference, with the request that further cases of partial or total
interruption of mental development during the first year of life, with a
later progress in it, may be collected and made public.
It is only in rare cases that microcephalous children can be observed,
while living, for any considerable length of time continuously. In this
respect a case described by Aeby is particularly instructive.
A microcephalous boy was born of healthy parents--he was their first
child--about four weeks too soon. His whole body had something of
stiffness and awkwardness. The legs were worse off in this respect than
the arms; they showed, as they continued to show up to the time of his
death, a tendency to become crossed. The boy was never able to stand or
walk. He made attempts to seize striking objects, white or
party-colored, but never learned actually to hold anything. The play of
feature was animated. The dark eyes, shining and rapidly moving, never
lingered long upon one and the same object. The child was much inclined
to bite, and always bit very sharply. Mentally there was pronounced
imbecility. In spite of his four years the boy never got so far as to
produce any articulate sounds whatever. Even simple words like "papa"
and "mamma" were beyond his ability. His desire for anything was
expressed in inarticulate and not specially expressive tones. His sleep
was short and light; he often lay whole nights through with open eyes.
He seldom shed tears; his discomfort was manifested chiefly by shrill
screaming. He died of pulmonary paralysis at the end of the fourth year.
The autopsy showed that the frontal lobes were surprisingly small, and
that there was a partial deficiency of the median longitudinal fissure.
The fissure did not begin till beyond the crown of the head, in the
region of the occiput. The anterior half of the cerebrum consequently
lacked the division into lateral hemispheres. It had few convolutions
also, and the smoothness of its surface was at once obvious. The _corpus
callosum_ and the _fornix_ were undeveloped. "The gray cortical layer
attained in general only about a third of the normal thickness, and was
especially weakly represented in the frontal region." The cerebellum not
being stunted, seemed, by the side of the greatly shrunken cerebrum,
surprisingly large.
In this case the microcephalous of four years behaves, as far as the
development of will is concerned, like the normal boy of four months.
The latter is, in fact, superior to him in _seizing_, while the former
in no way manifests any advantage in a psychical point of view.
Two cases of microcephaly have been described by Fletcher Beach (in the
"Transactions of the International Medical Congress," London, 1881, iii,
615-626).
E. R. was, in May, 1875, received into his institution at the
age of eleven years. She had at the time of her birth a small
head, and had at no time manifested much intelligence. She could
not stand or walk, but was able to move her arms and legs. Her
sight and hearing were normal. She was quiet and obedient, and
sat most of the time in her chair. She paid no attention to her
bodily needs. She could not speak and had to be fed with a
spoon. After six months she became a little more intelligent,
made an attempt to speak, and muttered something indistinctly.
She would stretch out her hand when told to give it, and she
recognized with a smile her nurse and the physician. Some four
months later she would grind her teeth when in a pleasant mood,
and would act as if she were shy when spoken to, holding her
hand before her eyes. She was fond of her nurse. Thus there was
capacity of observation, there were attention, memory,
affection, and some power of voluntary movement. She died in
January, 1876. Her brain weighed, two days after her death,
seven ounces. It is minutely described by the author--but after
it had been preserved in alcohol for six years, and it then
weighed only two ounces. The author found a number of
convolutions not so far developed as in the foetus of six
months, according to Gratiolet, and he is of opinion that the
cerebellum was further developed after the cerebrum had ceased
to grow, so that there was not an arrest of the development but
an irregularity. The cerebral hemispheres were asymmetrical, the
frontal lobes, corresponding to the psychical performances in
the case, being relatively pretty large, while the posterior
portion of the third convolution on the left side, the island of
Reil, and the operculum were very small, corresponding to the
inability to learn to speak. The author connects the slight
mobility with the smallness of the parietal and frontal
ascending convolutions.
The other case is that of a girl of six years (E. H.), who came
to the institution in January, 1879, and died in July of the
same year. She could walk about, and she had complete control of
her limbs. She was cheerful, easy to be amused, and greatly
attached to her nurse. She associated with other children, but
could not speak a word. Her hearing was good, her habits bad.
Although she could pick up objects and play with them, it did
not occur to her to feed herself. She could take notice and
observe, and could remember certain persons. Her brain weighed,
two days after death, 20-1/2 ounces, and was, in many respects,
as simple as that of an infant; but, in regard to the
convolutions, it was far superior to the brain of a monkey--was
superior also to that of E. R. The ascending frontal and
parietal convolutions were larger, corresponding to the greater
mobility. The third frontal convolution and the island of Reil
were small on both sides, corresponding to the alalia. The
author is of opinion that the ganglionic cells in this brain
lacked processes, so that the intercentral connections did not
attain development.
A more accurate description of two brains of microcephali is given by
Julius Sander in the "Archiv für Psychiatrie und Nerven-Krankheiten" (i,
299-307; Berlin, 1868), accompanied by good plates. One of these cases
is that of which an account is given by Johannes Müller (in the
"Medicinische Zeitung des Vereins für Heilkunde in Preussen," 1836, Nr.
2 und 3).
In the full and detailed treatises concerning microcephali by Karl Vogt
("Archiv für Anthropologie," ii, 2, 228) and Von Flesch ("Würzburger
Festschrift," ii, 95, 1882) may be found further data in regard to more
recent cases.
Many questions of physiological and psychological importance in respect
to the capacity of development in cases of imperfectly developed brain
are discussed in the "Zeitschrift für das Idioten-Wesen" by W. Schröter
(Dresden) and E. Reichelt (Hubertusburg).
But thus far the methods of microscopical investigation of the brain are
still so little developed that we can not yet with certainty establish a
causal connection, in individual cases, between the deviations of
microcephalic brains from the normal brain and the defects of the
psychical functions. The number of brains of microcephali that have been
examined with reference to this point is very small, although their
scientific value, after thorough-going observation of the possessors of
them during life, is immense. For microcephalous children of some years
of age are a substitute for imaginary, because never practicable,
vivisectory experiments, concerning the connection of body and mind.
To conclude these fragments, let me add here some observations
concerning a case of rare interest, that of the microcephalous child,
Margarethe Becker (born 1869), very well known in Germany. These
observations I recorded on the 9th of July, 1877, in Jena, while the
child was left free to do what she pleased.
The girl, eight years of age, born, according to the testimony of her
father, with the frontal fontanelle (fonticulus anterior) closed and
solid, had a smaller head than a child of one year. The notes follow the
same order as that of the observations.
_Time, 8.15 A. M._--The child yawns. She grasps with animation at some
human skulls that she sees on a table near her, and directs her look to
charts on the walls. She puts her fingers into her nostrils, brushes her
apron with both hands, polishes my watch, which I have offered her and
she has seized, holds it to one ear, then to one of her father's ears,
draws her mouth into a smile, seems to be pleased by the ticking, holds
the watch to her father's other ear, then to her own other ear, laughs,
and repeats the experiment several times. Her head is very mobile.
The child now folds a bit of paper that I have given her, rolls it up
awkwardly, wrinkling her forehead the while, chews up the paper and
laughs aloud. Saliva flows from her mouth almost incessantly. Then the
child begins to eat a biscuit, giving some of it, however, to her father
and the attendant, putting her biscuit to their lips, and this with
accuracy at once, whereas in the former case the watch was held at first
near the ear, to the temple, and not till afterward to the ear itself.
The girl is very lively; she strikes about her in a lively manner with
her hands, sees charts hanging high on the walls, points to them with
her finger, throws her head back upon her neck to see them better, and
_moves her fingers in the direction of the lines_ of the diagrams. At
last weariness seems to come on. The child puts an arm around the neck
of her father, sits on his lap, but is more and more restless.
_8.50._--Quiet. To appearance, the child has fallen asleep.
_8.55._--Awake again. The child _sees_ well, _hears_ well, _smells_
well; obeys some few commands, e. g., she gives her hand. But with this
her intellectual accomplishments are exhausted. She does not utter a
word.
Kollmann, who saw this microcephalous subject in September, 1877,
writes, among other things, of her ("Correspondenzblatt der
Deutschengesellschaft für Anthropologie," Nr. 11, S. 132):
"Her gait is tottering, the movements of the head and
extremities jerky, not always co-ordinated, hence unsteady,
inappropriate and spasmodic; her look is restless, objects are
not definitely fixated. The normal functions of her mind are far
inferior to those of a child of four years. The eight-year-old
Margaret speaks only the word _Mama_; no other articulate sound
has been learned by her. She makes known her need of food by
plaints, by sounds of weeping, and by distortion of countenance;
she laughs when presented with something to eat or with toys. It
is only within the last two years that she has become cleanly;
since then her appetite has improved. Her nutrition has gained,
in comparison with the first years of life, and with it her
comprehension also; she helps her mother set the table, and
brings plates and knives, when requested to do so, from the
place where they are kept. Further, she shows a tender sympathy
with her microcephalous brother; she takes bread from the table,
goes to her brother's bedside and feeds him, as he is not of
himself capable of putting food into his mouth. She shows a very
manifest liking for her relatives and a fear of strangers. When
taken into the parlor she gave the most decided evidences of
fear; being placed upon the table she hid her head in her
father's coat, and did not become quiet until her mother took
her in her arms. This awakening of mental activity shows that,
notwithstanding the extremely small quantity of brain-substance,
there exists a certain degree of intellectual development with
advancing years. With the fourth year, in the case of M.,
independent movements began; up to that time she lay, as her
five-year-old brother still lies, immovable in body and limbs,
with the exception of slight bendings and stretchings."
Richard Pott, who (1879) likewise observed this microcephalous subject,
found that she wandered about aimlessly, restlessly, and nimbly, from
corner to corner [as if], groping and seeking; yet objects held before
her were only momentarily fixated, scarcely holding her attention; often
she did not once grasp at them. "The girl goes alone, without tottering
or staggering, but her locomotive movements are absolutely without
motive, having no end or aim, frequently changing their direction.
Notwithstanding her size, the child gives the impression of the most
extreme helplessness." She was fed, but was not indifferent as to food,
seeming to prefer sour to sweet. She would come, indeed, when she was
called, but seemed not to understand the words spoken to her; she spoke
no word herself, but uttered shrill, inarticulate sounds; she felt shame
when she was undressed, hiding her face in her sister's lap. The
expression of her countenance was harmless, changeable, manifesting no
definite psychical processes.
The statements contradictory to those of Kollmann are probably to be
explained by the brevity of the observations.
Virchow ("Correspondenzblatt," S. 135), in his remarks upon this case,
says: "I am convinced that every one who observes the microcephalic
child will find that psychologically it has nothing whatever of the ape.
All the positive faculties and qualities of the ape are wanting here;
there is nothing of the psychology of the ape, but only the psychology
of an imperfectly developed and deficient little child. Every
characteristic is human; every single trait. I had the girl in my room a
few months since, for hours together, and occupied myself with her; I
never observed anything in her that reminds me even remotely of the
psychological conditions of apes. She is a human being, in a low stage
of development, but in no way deviating from the nature of humanity."
From these reports it is plain to be seen that for all mental
development an hereditary physical growth of the cerebrum is
indispensable. If the sensuous impressions experienced anew in each case
by each human being, and the original movements, were sufficient without
the development of the cerebral convolutions and of the gray cortex,
then these microcephalous beings, upon whom the same impressions
operated as upon other new-born children, must have had better brains
and must have learned more. But the brain, notwithstanding the
peripheral impressions received in seeing, hearing, and feeling, could
not grow, and so the rudimentary human child could not learn anything,
and could not even form the ideas requisite for articulate voluntary
movement, or combine these ideas. Only the motor centers of lower rank
could be developed.
In peculiar contrast with these cases of genuine microcephaly stands the
exceedingly remarkable case, observed by Dr. Rudolf Krause (Hamburg), of
a boy whose brain is not at all morbidly affected or abnormally small,
but exhibits decidedly the type of the brain of the ape. The discoverer
reported upon it to the Anthropological Society ("Correspondenzblatt
a.a. O., S. 132-135) the following facts among others:
"The skull and brain belonged to a boy who was born on the 4th
of October, 1869, the last of four children. Paul was scrofulous
from his youth. He did not get his teeth until the end of his
second year, and they were quite brown in color and were soon
lost. According to the statement of Paul's mother, he had
several successive sets of teeth. It was not until the fifth
year that he learned to walk. He was cleanly from the third
year, but not when he felt ill. His appetite was always good up
to his last sickness of four weeks. His sleep was habitually
undisturbed. He was of a cheerful temperament, and inclined to
play; as soon as he heard music he would dance, and sing to the
music in rather unmelodious tones. When teased he could be very
violent; he would throw anything he could lay his hands on at
the head of the offender. He liked the company of others,
especially of men. By the time he was four years old he had
learned to eat without help. Paul was very supple, was fond of
climbing, and had great strength in his arms and hands
especially; these had actually a horny appearance, and thus
reminded one of the hands of the chimpanzee. He could sit on the
ground with his legs wide apart. His gait was uncertain, and he
was apt to tumble; he ran with knees bent forward and legs
crooked; he was fond of hopping, and seemed particularly
ape-like when doing so. The great-toe of each foot stood off at
an angle from the foot, and thus gave the impression of a
prehensile toe. I thought at first that this deviation had its
origin in the fact that the child, on account of his uncertainty
in walking, wanted to get a broader basis of support; but I
afterward gave up that opinion, because I have never found an
instance of a similar habit in other children with diseased
heads, e. g., hydrocephalous children. Paul could speak but
little, could say hardly any words except _Papa_ and _Mama_, and
even these he did not until late learn to pronounce in two
syllables; he uttered for the most part only sounds that
resembled a grunt. He imitated the barking of a dog by the sound
_rrrrrr_. He frequently stamped with feet and hands, clapped his
hands together, and ejaculated a sort of grunting sound, just as
I have observed in the case of gorillas and chimpanzees.
"Paul was smaller than children of his age; on his right eye he
had from his youth a large leucoma; the eyelids had generally a
catarrhal affection, and were in a state of suppuration. The
head looked sore; the forehead was small. Paul had a strongly
marked tendency to imitation. His whole being, his movements,
were strikingly ape-like. He was decidedly neglected by his
parents, was generally dirty in appearance, and I really think
the early death of the child was induced by the slight care
taken of him. Paul was taken sick at the beginning of December,
1876, with an acute bronchial catarrh, and died on the 5th of
January, 1877, at the age of seven and a quarter years.
"If you look at the cranium and the brain here, which belonged
to the child just described, there are lacking in the first
place all the characteristics of microcephaly. The cranium
possesses a capacity of 1,022 cubic centimetres, and the brain
weighs 950 grammes; they do not deviate, therefore, from the
normal condition. But let the cranium, where it is laid open by
the saw, be observed from within, and we notice an _asymmetry of
the two hemispheres of the brain_; the cranium is pushed
somewhat forward and to the right. The _partes orbitales_ of the
frontal bone are higher and more arched than is usual, in
consequence of which the _lamina cribrosa_ of the ethmoid bone
lies deeper, and room is given for the well-known conformation
of the ethmoidal process in the brain. The cerebral convolutions
are plainly marked upon the inner surface of the cranium. The
facial cranium shows no deviations. There is no prognathism. The
formation of the teeth alone is irregular; one pre-molar tooth
is lacking above and below in the jaw, and, in fact, there is no
place for it. The incisors and the pre-molar teeth are
undergoing change.
"The two cerebral hemispheres are asymmetrical; in the region
where the parieto-occipital fissure is situated on the left
hemisphere, the two hemispheres diverge from each other and form
an edge which curves outward and backward, so that the
cerebellum remains uncovered. On the lower surface of the
frontal lobes there exists a strongly marked ethmoidal
prominence. Neither of the fissures of Sylvius is quite closed,
the left less so than the right; the operculum is but slightly
developed, and the island of Reil lies with its fissures almost
entirely uncovered. This conformation reminds us throughout of
the brain of the anthropoid apes. The two _sulci centrales sive
fissuræ Rolandi_ run straight to the border of the hemisphere,
less deeply impressed than is normally the case, without forming
an angle with each other. Very strongly and deeply impressed
_sulci præcentrales_ seem to serve as substitutes for them. The
_sulcus interparietalis,_ which begins farther outward than in
the ordinary human being, receives the _sulcus
parieto-occipitalis_--a structure in conformity with the typical
brain of the ape. The _sulcus occipitalis transversus_, which is
generally lightly stamped in man, extends here as a deep fissure
across over the occipital lobe, thus producing a so-called
simian fissure, and the posterior part of the occipital lobe has
the appearance of an operculum. The _fissura calcarina_ has its
origin directly on the surface of the occipital lobe, does not
receive until late the _fissura parieto-occipitalis_, and goes
directly, on the right side, into the _fissura hippocampi_. This
abnormal structure also is typical for the brain of the ape.
"The _gyrus occipitalis primus_ is separated from the upper
parietal lobe by the _sulcus parieto-occipitalis_, a formation
that, according to Gratiolet, exists in many apes. The _gyrus
temporalis superior_ is greatly reduced on both sides, and has
an average breadth of only five millimetres; it is the one
peculiarity that recalls emphatically the brain of the
chimpanzee, which always has this reduced upper temporal
convolution.
"We have here, then, a brain that scarcely deviates from the
normal brain in volume, that possesses all the convolutions and
fissures, seeming, perhaps, richer than the average brain in
convolutions, and that is in every respect differentiated; and
notwithstanding all this it approximates, in its whole
structure, to the simian rather than to the human type. Had the
brain been placed before me without my knowing its origin, I
should have been perfectly justified in assigning this brain to
an anthropoid ape standing somewhat nearer to man than does the
chimpanzee."
No second case of this sort has thus far been observed.
C.
REPORTS CONCERNING THE PROCESS OF LEARNING TO SEE, ON THE PART OF
PERSONS BORN BLIND, BUT ACQUIRING SIGHT THROUGH SURGICAL TREATMENT. ALSO
SOME CRITICAL REMARKS.
I. THE CHESSELDEN CASE.
The following extracts are taken from the report published by Will.
Chesselden in the "Philosophical Transactions for the Months of April,
May, and June, 1728" (No. 402, London, pp. 447-450), or the
"Philosophical Transactions from 1719 to 1733, abridged by J. Eames and
J. Martyn" (vii, 3, pp. 491-493, London, 1734):
"Though we say of the gentleman that he was blind, as we do of
all people who have ripe cataracts, yet they are never so blind
from that cause but that they can discern day from night, and,
for the most part, in a strong light distinguish black, white,
and scarlet; but they can not perceive the shape of anything....
And thus it was with this young gentleman, who, though he knew
these colors asunder in a good light, yet when he saw them after
he was couched, the faint ideas he had of them before were not
sufficient for him to know them by afterward, and therefore he
did not think them the same which he had known before by those
names....
"When he first saw, he was so far from making any judgment about
distances, that he thought all objects whatever touched his eyes
(as he expressed it) as what he felt did his skin, and thought
no objects so agreeable as those which were smooth and regular.
He knew not the shape of anything nor any one thing from
another, however different in shape or magnitude; but upon being
told what things were, whose form he before knew from feeling,
he would carefully observe, that he might know them again. But,
having too many objects to learn at once, he forgot many of
them, and (as he said) at first he learned to know and again
forgot a thousand things in a day. Having often forgot which was
the cat and which the dog, he was ashamed to ask; but catching
the cat (which he knew by feeling), he was observed to look at
her steadfastly, and then, setting her down, said, 'So, puss, I
shall know you another time.' He was very much surprised that
those things which he had liked best did not appear most
agreeable to his eyes, expecting those persons would appear most
beautiful that he loved most, and such things to be most
agreeable to his sight that were so to his taste. We thought he
soon knew what pictures represented which were showed to him,
but we found afterward we were mistaken, for about two months
after he was couched he discovered at once they represented
solid bodies, when to that time he considered them only as
party-colored planes or surfaces diversified with variety of
paint; but even then he was no less surprised, expecting the
pictures would feel like the things they represented, and was
amazed when he found those parts, which by their light and
shadow appeared now round and uneven, felt only flat like the
rest, and asked which was the lying sense, feeling or seeing?
"Being shown his father's picture in a locket at his mother's
watch and told what it was, he acknowledged a likeness, but was
vastly surprised, asking how it could be that a large face could
be expressed in so little room.
"At first he could bear but very little sight, and the things he
saw he thought extremely large; but, upon seeing things larger,
those first seen he conceived less, never being able to imagine
any lines beyond the bounds he saw. The room he was in he said
he knew to be but part of the house, yet he could not conceive
that the whole house could look bigger. Before he was couched he
expected little advantage from seeing, except reading and
writing. Blindness, he observed, had this advantage, that he
could go anywhere in the dark much better than those who could
see, and after he had seen he did not soon lose this quality nor
desire a light to go about the house in the night.
"A year after first seeing, being carried upon Epsom Downs and
observing a large prospect, he was exceedingly delighted with it
and called it a new kind of seeing; and now being lately couched
of his other eye, he says that objects at first appeared large
to this eye but not so large as they did at first to the other,
and, looking upon the same object with both eyes, he thought it
looked about twice as large as with the first couched eye only,
but not double, that we can anywise discover."
Remark on the First Case.
Although this Chesselden case is the most famous of all, and the most
frequently cited, it belongs, nevertheless, to those most inaccurately
described. It is, however, not only the first in the order of time, but
especially important for the reason that it demonstrates in a striking
manner the slow acquirement of space-perception by the eye, and also the
acquirement of the first and second dimensions of space (cf. vol. i, p.
57).
II., III. THE WARE CASES.
One of these cases is that of a boy, who at the age of seven years
recovered his sight which he had lost in the first half-year of his
life. The surgeon who performed the operation, James Ware, writes
("Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society for 1801," ii,
London, 1801, pp. 382-396):
"The young W. appeared to be a healthy, perfect child; his eyes
in particular were large and rather prominent. About the end of
his first year, a number of persons passing in procession near
his father's house, accompanied with music and flags, the child
was taken to see them; but, instead of looking at the
procession, it was observed that, though he was evidently much
pleased with the music, his eyes were never directed to the
place from whence the sound came. His mother, alarmed by this
discovery, held silver spoons and other glaring objects before
him at different distances, and she was soon convinced that he
was unable to perceive any of them. A surgeon was consulted,
who, on examining the eyes, pronounced that there was a complete
cataract in each. All thoughts of assisting his sight were (for
the present) relinquished. As soon as he could speak it was
observed that when an object was held close to his eyes he was
able to distinguish its color if strongly marked, but on no
occasion did he ever notice its outline or figure. I performed
the operation on the left eye on the 29th of December, 1800. The
eye was immediately bound up, and no inquiries made on that day
with regard to his sight. On the 30th I found that he had
experienced a slight sickness on the preceding evening. On the
31st, as soon as I entered his chamber, the mother with much joy
informed me that her child could see. About an hour before my
visit he was standing near the fire, with a handkerchief tied
loosely over his eyes, when he told her that under the
handkerchief, which had slipped upward, he could distinguish the
table by the side of which she was sitting. It was about a yard
and a half from him, and he observed that it was covered with a
green cloth (which was really the case), and that it was a
little farther off than he was able to reach.... Desirous to
ascertain whether he was able to distinguish objects, I held a
letter before him at the distance of about twelve inches, when
he told me, after a short hesitation, that it was a piece of
paper; that it was square, which he knew by its corners; and
that it was longer in one direction than it was in the other. On
being desired to point to the corners, he did it with great
precision and readily carried his finger in the line of its
longest diameter. I then showed him a small oblong bandbox
covered with red leather, which he said was red and square, and
pointed at once to its four corners. After this I placed before
him an oval silver box, which he said had a shining appearance,
and presently afterward that it was round, because it had not
corners. A white stone mug he first called a white basin, but
soon after, recollecting himself, said it was a mug because it
had a handle. I held the objects at different distances from his
eye and inquired very particularly if he was sensible of any
difference in their situation, which he always said he was,
informing me on every change whether they were brought nearer to
or carried farther from him. I again inquired, both of his
mother and himself, whether he had ever before this time
distinguished by sight any sort of object, and I was assured by
both that he never had on any occasion, and that when he wished
to discover colors, which he could only do when they were very
strong, he had always been obliged to hold the colored object
close to his eye and a little on one side to avoid the
projection of the nose. No further experiments were made on that
day. On the 1st of January I found that he felt no uneasiness on
the approach of light. I showed him a table-knife, which at
first he called a spoon, but soon rectified the mistake, giving
it the right name and distinguishing the blade from the handle
by pointing to each as he was desired. He called a yellow
pocket-book by its name, taking notice of the silver lock in the
cover. I held my hand before him, which he knew, but could not
at first tell the number of my fingers nor distinguish one of
them from another. I then held up his own hand and desired him
to remark the difference between his thumb and his fingers,
after which he readily pointed out the distinctions in mine
also. Dark-colored and smooth objects were more agreeable to him
than those which were bright and rough. On the 3d of January he
saw from the drawing-room window a dancing bear in the street
and distinguished a number of boys that were standing round him,
noticing particularly a bundle of clothes which one of them had
on his head. On the same evening I placed him before a
looking-glass and held up his hand. After a little time he
smiled and said he saw the shadow of his hand as well as that of
his head. He could not then distinguish his features; but on the
following day, his mother having again placed him before the
glass, he pointed to his eyes, nose, and mouth. The young W., a
remarkably intelligent boy (of seven years), gave the most
direct and satisfactory answers to every question that was put
to him, and, though not born blind, certainly had not any
recollection of having ever seen. The right eye was operated
upon a month after the left, but without the least success."
In regard to the other case, Ware writes: "In the instance of a
young gentleman from Ireland, fourteen years old, from each of
whose eyes I extracted a cataract in the year 1794, and who,
before the operation, assured me, as did his friends, that he
had never seen the figure of any object, I was astonished by the
facility with which, on the first experiment, he took hold of my
hand at different distances, mentioning whether it was brought
nearer to or carried farther from him, and conveying his hand to
mine in a circular direction, that we [Ware and another
physician] might be the better satisfied of the accuracy with
which he did it." In this case, as in others of like nature,
Ware could not, "although the patients had certainly been blind
from early infancy," satisfy himself "that they had not, before
this period, enjoyed a sufficient degree of sight to impress the
image of visible objects on their minds, and to give them ideas
which could not afterward be entirely obliterated."
Ware found, moreover, that, in the case of two children between seven
and eight years of age, both blind from birth, and on whom no operation
had been performed, the knowledge of colors, limited as it was, was
sufficient to enable them to tell whether colored objects were brought
nearer to or carried farther from them; for instance, whether they were
at the distance of two inches or four inches from their eyes; and he
himself observes that they were not, in strictness of speech, blind,
though they were deprived of all useful sight.
Remarks on the Second and Third Cases.
It is a surprising thing, in the account of the former case, that
nothing whatever is said of the behavior of the patient on the first and
on the fourth day after the operation. We must assume that he passed the
first day wholly with his eyes bandaged. Further, the boy pointed out
four corners of a box, while the box had eight; yet no inference can be
drawn from this, for possibly only one side of the box was shown to him.
The most remarkable thing is the statement of the patient that he saw
the _shadow_ of his hand in the glass. This circumstance, and the
astonishing certainty, at the very first attempts to estimate
space-relations, in the discrimination of round and angular, and in the
observation that the table was somewhat farther from him than he could
reach, show what influence the mere ability to perceive colors has upon
vision in space. Before the operation, W. distinguished only striking
colors from one another; but he could perceive nearness and distance of
colored objects, within narrow limits, by the great differences in the
luminous intensity of the colors. He distinguished with certainty
dimness from brightness. Accordingly, when he noticed a decrease in the
brightness of a color, he inferred the distance of the colored object
from the eye, regulating his judgment also by touch. Thus the boy had,
before the operation, some perception of space with the eye, and it is
not much to be wondered at, considering his uncommon intelligence, that
he, soon after the operation (probably attempts at seeing were secretly
made by the patient on the first day) learned to judge pretty surely of
space-relations--much more surely than a person born blind learns to
judge in so short a time. Besides, it is not to be forgotten that, while
it is true that the cataract had become completely developed at the end
of the first year of life, there is no proof that the child was unable
to see during the first months. At that time images, as in the second
case, may have unconsciously impressed themselves, with which, at a
later period, more accurate space-ideas may have been associated,
through the sense of touch, than is the case with persons born
completely blind. Ware concludes, from his observations--
1. "When children are born blind, in consequence of having cataracts
in their eyes, they are never so totally deprived of sight as not to
be able to distinguish colors; and, though they can not see the
figure of an object, nor even its color, unless it be placed within
a very short distance, they nevertheless can tell whether, when
within this distance, it be brought nearer to or carried farther
from them.
2. "In consequence of this power, whilst in a state of comparative
blindness, children who have their cataracts removed are enabled
immediately on the acquisition of sight to form some judgment of the
distance, and even of the outline, of those strongly defined objects
with the color of which they were previously acquainted."
Both these conclusions are simply matter of fact. It only needs
explanation how the distance and outlines of objects can be known after
the operation _in consequence of_ the ability described in the first
proposition. That distance is actually estimated at once in consequence
of this power, is clear; not so with the outlines. How can round and
angular be distinguished, when only colors and gross differences of
intensity and saturation are perceived? Ware gives no solution of the
difficulty, but thinks that, because the colors appeared more intense,
the previously imperfect ideas concerning distances might be improved
and extended, so that they would even give a knowledge of the
boundary-lines and of the form of those things with the color of which
the patients were previously acquainted. But this improvement of the
ideas concerning distance can not lead directly to discrimination of the
limits of objects, and is itself hypothetical, inasmuch as we might
expect, _immediately_ after the operation, on account of the enormous
difference in the luminous intensity, an uncertainty in the judgment.
But such uncertainty appeared only in a slight degree in both the cases,
a thing possible only because there had already been sufficient
experiences with the eye. But these experiences, as is frequently
stated, were absolutely lacking in regard to the limits and the form of
objects. Here another thing comes in to help. Evidently, an eye that
distinguishes only colors sees these colors always only as limited; even
if it saw only a single color that occupied the whole field of vision,
the field would still be a limited one. But the colored field may be
small or large, and this difference may be noticed before the operation.
If the object--one of vivid coloring--is long and narrow, the patient,
even before the operation, will see it otherwise than if it is, with the
same coloring, short and broad. And suppose he merely observes that not
the whole field of vision is colored. If the whole field is colored,
there is, of course, an entire lack of angles; on the other hand, if the
whole field of vision is not filled by the colored object, then it
is--however faintly--divided, and the lines of division, i. e., the
indistinct boundary-lines of the objects whose color is perceived, may
be either like the natural limits of the entire field of vision, i. e.,
"round," or unlike them, i. e., "angular." If, now, the obstacle is
suddenly removed, the patient (even if he did not before the operation
distinguish angular and round by the eye) must yet perceive which of
the objects before him resemble in contour the previous field of vision,
i. e., are round, and which do not; for the round contour of his field
of vision is familiar to him. But W. had learned, through the sense of
touch, that what is not round is angular. He would, therefore, even if
he could perceive colors when the whole field of vision was filled--a
matter on which we have no information--be able to guess the outlines of
some objects soon after the operation, merely on the ground of his
experiences before it. It was guess-work every time, as appears from the
confounding of knife and spoon, mug and basin. The boy must have
thought, "How would it be if I felt of it?" and, as he had before the
operation frequently observed that whatever had the same contour as his
field of vision, or a contour similar to that, was round, he could,
after the operation, distinguish round and not round--a thing which a
person born blind, on the other hand, and knowing nothing of his field
of vision, because he has never had any, can never do.
On the whole, the two Ware cases are by no means so important as the
Franz (see below) and Chesselden cases, because the boy, W., had ample
opportunity up to his seventh year for learning to distinguish different
colors according to their quality and luminous intensity; because he
must have known the limits of his field of vision, and could in any
case, by means of touch, correct and relatively confirm his very
frequent attempts to guess at forms and distances by the eye. Finally,
it is not known whether he became blind before or immediately after his
birth, or, as is most probable, not till some months after birth. The
same is true of the second case.
IV, V. THE HOME CASES.
Everard Home makes the following statement in the "Philosophical
Transactions of the Royal Society," London, 1807, i, pp. 83-87, 91:
"1. William Stiff, twelve years of age, had cataracts in his
eyes, which, according to the account of his mother, existed at
the time of birth. From earliest infancy he never stretched out
his hand to catch at anything, nor were his eyes directed to
objects placed before him, but rolled about in a very unusual
manner. The eyes were not examined till he was six months old,
and at that time the cataracts were as distinct as when he was
received into the hospital. He could at that time (July 17,
1806) distinguish light from darkness, and the light of the sun
from that of a fire or candle; he said it was redder and more
pleasant to look at, but lightning made a still stronger
impression on his eyes. All these different lights he called
red. The sun appeared to him the size of his hat. The
candle-flame was larger than his finger and smaller than his
arm. When he looked at the sun, he said it appeared to touch his
eye. When a lighted candle was placed before him, both his eyes
were directed toward it, and moved together. When it was at any
nearer distance than twelve inches, he said it touched his eyes.
When moved farther off he said it did not touch them, and at
twenty-two inches it became invisible.
"On the 21st of July the operation of extracting the crystalline
lens was performed on the left eye. Light became very
distressing to his eye. After allowing the eyelids to remain
closed for a few minutes, and then opening them, the pupil
appeared clear, but he could not bear exposure to light. On my
asking him what he had seen, he said, 'Your head, which seemed
to touch my eye,' but he could not tell its shape. On the 22d
the light was less offensive. He said he saw my head, which
touched his eye. On the 23d the eye was less inflamed, and he
could bear a weak light. He said he could see several gentlemen
round him, but could not describe their figure. My face, while I
was looking at his eye, he said was round and red. From the 25th
of July to the 1st of August there was inflammation. On the 4th
of August an attempt was made to ascertain the powers of vision;
it became necessary to shade the glare of light by hanging a
white cloth before the window. The least exertion fatigued the
eye, and the cicatrix on the cornea, to which the iris had
become attached, drew it down so as considerably to diminish the
pupil. The attempt had therefore to be postponed.
"On the 16th of September the right eye was couched. The light
was so distressing to his eye that the lids were closed as soon
as it was over. The eyes were not examined with respect to their
vision till the 13th of October; the boy remained quiet in the
hospital. On this day he could discern a white, red, or yellow
color, particularly when bright and shining. The sun and other
objects did not now seem to touch his eyes as before, they
appeared to be at a short distance from him. The right eye had
the most distinct vision, but in both it was imperfect. The
distance at which he saw best was five inches. When the object
was of a bright color, and illuminated by a strong light, he
could make out that it was flat and broad; and when one corner
of a square substance was pointed out to him, he saw it, and
could find out the other, which was at the end of the same side,
but could not do this under less favorable circumstances. When
the four corners of a white card were pointed out, and he had
examined them, he seemed to know them; but when the opposite
surface of the same card, which was yellow, was placed before
him, he could not tell whether it had corners or not, so that he
had not acquired any correct knowledge of them, since he could
not apply it to the next colored surface, whose form was exactly
the same with that, the outline of which the eye had just been
taught to trace....
"2. John Salter, seven years of age, was admitted into St.
George's Hospital on the 1st of October, 1806, with cataracts in
both eyes, which, according to the accounts of his relations,
had existed from his birth. The pupils contracted considerably
when a lighted candle was placed before him, and dilated as soon
as it was withdrawn. He was capable of distinguishing colors
with tolerable accuracy, particularly the more bright and vivid
ones. On the 6th of October the left eye was couched. The eye
was allowed ten minutes to recover itself; a round piece of
card, of a yellow color, one inch in diameter, was then placed
about six inches from it. He said immediately that it was
yellow, and, on being asked its shape, said, 'Let me touch it,
and I will tell you.' Being told that he must not touch it,
after looking for some time, he said it was round. A square,
blue card, nearly the same size, being put before him, he said
it was blue and round. A triangular piece he also called round.
The different colors of the objects placed before him he
instantly decided on with great correctness, but had no idea of
their form. He saw best at a distance of six or seven inches. He
was asked whether the object seemed to touch his eye; he said,
'No,' but when desired to say at what distance it was, he could
not tell. The eye was covered, and he was put to bed and told to
keep himself quiet; but upon the house-surgeon going to him half
an hour afterward, his eye was found uncovered, and he was
looking at his bed-curtains, which were close drawn. The bandage
was replaced, but so delighted was the boy with seeing, that he
again immediately removed it. The house-surgeon could not
enforce his instructions, and repeated the experiment about two
hours after the operation. Upon being shown a square, and asked
if he could find any corners to it, the boy was very desirous of
touching it. This being refused, he examined it for some time,
and said at last that he had found a corner, and then readily
counted the four corners of the square; and afterward, when a
triangle was shown him, he counted the corners in the same way;
but in doing so his eye went along the edge from corner to
corner, naming them as he went along. Next day he told me he had
seen 'the soldiers with their fifes and pretty things.' The
guards in the morning had marched past the hospital with their
band; on hearing the music, he had got out of bed and gone to
the window to look at them. Seeing the bright barrels of
muskets, he must in his mind have connected them with the sounds
which he heard, and mistaken them for musical instruments.
Twenty-four hours after the operation the pupil of the eye was
clear. A pair of scissors was shown him, and he said it was a
knife. On being told he was wrong, he could not make them out;
but the moment he touched them he said they were scissors, and
seemed delighted with the discovery.
"From this time he was constantly improving himself by looking
at, and examining with his hands, everything within his reach,
but he frequently forgot what he had learned. On the 10th I saw
him again. He went to the window and called out, 'What is that
moving?' I asked him what he thought it was. He said: 'A dog
drawing a wheelbarrow. There is one, two, three dogs drawing
another. How very pretty!' These proved to be carts and horses
on the road, which he saw from a two-pair-of-stairs window.
"On the 19th the different colored pieces of card were
separately placed before his eye, and so little had he gained in
thirteen days that he could not, without counting their corners
one by one, tell their shape. This he did with great facility,
running his eye quickly along the outline, so that it was
evident he was still learning, just as a child learns to read.
He had got so far as to know the angles, when they were placed
before him, and to count the number belonging to any one object.
The reason of his making so slow a progress was, that these
figures had never been subjected to examination by touch, and
were unlike anything he had been accustomed to see. He had got
so much the habit of assisting his eyes with his hands, that
nothing but holding them could keep them from the object.
"On the 26th the experiments were again repeated on the couched
eye. It was now found that the boy, on looking at any one of the
cards in a good light, could tell the form nearly as readily as
the color."
From these two instructive cases Home concludes:
"That, where the eye, before the cataract is removed, has only
been capable of discerning light, without being able to
distinguish colors, objects after its removal will seem to touch
the eye, and there will be no knowledge of their outline, which
confirms the observations made by Chesselden.
"That where the eye has previously distinguished colors, there
must also be an imperfect knowledge of distances, but not of
outline, which, however, will be very soon acquired, as happened
in Ware's cases. This is proved by the history of the first boy,
who, before the operation had no knowledge of colors or
distances, but after it, when his eye had only arrived at the
same state that the second boy's was in before the operation, he
had learned that the objects were at a distance and of different
colors.
"That when a child has acquired a new sense, nothing but great
pain or absolute coercion will prevent him from making use of
it."
VI. THE WARDROP CASE.
James Wardrop reports ("Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society
for 1826," iii, 529-540, London, 1826):
"A girl who was observed, during the first months of her
infancy, to have something peculiar in the appearance of her
eyes and an unusual groping manner which made her parents
suspect that she had defective vision, had an operation
performed on both eyes at the age of about six months. The right
eye was entirely destroyed in consequence. The left eye was
preserved, but the child could only distinguish a very light
from a very dark room without having the power to perceive even
the situation of the window through which the light entered,
though in sunshine or in bright moonlight she knew the direction
from which the light emanated. In this case no light could reach
the retina except such rays as could pass through the substance
of the iris. Until her forty-sixth year the patient could not
perceive objects and had no notion of colors. On the 26th of
January I introduced a very small needle through the cornea and
the center of the iris; but I could not destroy any of the
adhesions which had shut up the pupillar opening. After this
operation she said she could distinguish more light, but she
could perceive neither forms nor colors. On the 8th of February
the iris (a portion of it) was divided. The light became
offensive to her. She complained of its brightness, and was
frequently observed trying to see her hands; but it was evident
that her vision was very imperfect, for, although there was an
incision made in the iris, some opaque matter lay behind the
opening, which must have greatly obstructed the entrance of
light.
"On the 17th of February a third operation. The opening was
enlarged and the opaque matter removed. The operation being
performed at my house, she returned home in a carriage, with her
eye covered only with a loose piece of silk, and the first thing
she noticed was a hackney-coach passing, when she exclaimed,
'What is that large thing that has passed by us?' In the course
of the evening she requested her brother to show her his watch,
concerning which she expressed much curiosity, and she looked at
it a considerable time, holding it close to her eye. She was
asked what she saw, and she said there was a dark and a bright
side; she pointed to the hour of twelve, and smiled. Her brother
asked her if she saw anything more. She replied, 'Yes,' and
pointed to the hour of six and to the hands of the watch. She
then looked at the chain and seals, and observed that one of the
seals was bright, which was the case. The following day I asked
her to look again at the watch, which she refused to do, saying
that the light was offensive to her eye and that she felt very
stupid, meaning that she was much confused by the visible world
thus for the first time opened to her.
"On the third day she observed the doors on the opposite side of
the street and asked if they were red, but they were, in fact,
of an oak-color. In the evening she looked at her brother's face
and said that she saw his nose. He asked her to touch it, which
she did. He then slipped a handkerchief over his face and asked
her to look again, when she playfully pulled it off and asked,
'What is that?'
"On the sixth day she told us that she saw better than she had
done on any preceding day; 'but I can not tell what I do see. I
am quite stupid.' She felt disappointed in not having the power
of distinguishing at once by her eye objects which she could so
readily distinguish from one another by feeling them.
"On the seventh day she observed that the mistress of the house
was tall. She asked what the color of her gown was, to which she
was answered that it was blue. 'So is that thing on your head,'
she then observed, which was the case; 'and your handkerchief,
that is a different color,' which was also correct. She added,
'I see you pretty well, I think.' The teacups and saucers
underwent an examination. 'What are they like?' her brother
asked her. 'I don't know,' she replied, 'they look very queer to
me, but I can tell what they are in a minute when I touch them.'
She distinguished an orange, but could form no notion of what it
was till she touched it. She seemed now to have become more
cheerful, and she was very sanguine that she would find her
newly acquired faculty of more use to her when she returned
home, where everything was familiar to her.
"On the eighth day she asked her brother 'what he was helping
himself to?' and when she was told it was a glass of port wine,
she replied, 'Port wine is dark, and looks to me very ugly.' She
observed, when candles were brought into the room, her brother's
face in the mirror as well as that of a lady who was present;
she also walked for the first time without assistance from her
chair to a sofa which was on the opposite side of the room and
back again to the chair. When at tea she took notice of the
tray, observed the shining of the japan-work, and asked 'what
the color was round the edge?' she was told that it was yellow,
upon which she remarked, 'I will know that again.'
"On the ninth day she came down-stairs to breakfast in great
spirits. She said to her brother, 'I see you very well to-day,'
and came up to him and shook hands. She also observed a ticket
on a window of a house on the opposite side of the street ('a
lodging to let'), and her brother, to convince himself of her
seeing it, took her to the window three separate times, and to
his surprise and gratification she pointed it out to him
distinctly on each trial.
"She spent a great part of the eleventh day looking out of the
window, and spoke very little.
"On the twelfth day she went to walk with her brother. The clear
blue sky first attracted her notice, and she said, 'It is the
prettiest thing I have ever seen yet, and equally pretty every
time I turn round and look at it.' She distinguished the street
from the foot-pavement distinctly, and stepped from one to the
other like a person accustomed to the use of her eyes. Her great
curiosity, and the manner in which she stared at the variety of
objects and pointed to them, exciting the observation of many
by-standers, her brother soon conducted her home, much against
her will.
"On the evening of the thirteenth day she observed that there
was a different tea-tray, and that it was not a pretty one, but
had a dark border, which was a correct description. Her brother
asked her to look in the mirror and tell him if she saw his face
in it, to which she answered, evidently disconcerted: 'I see my
own; let me go away.'
"On the fourteenth day she drove in a carriage four miles, and
noticed the trees, and likewise the river Thames as she crossed
Vauxhall Bridge. At this time it was bright sunshine, and she
said something dazzled her when she looked on the water.
"On the fifteenth day she walked to a chapel. The people passing
on the pavement startled her, and once when a gentleman was
going past her who had a white waistcoat and a blue coat with
yellow buttons, which the sunshine brought full in her view, she
started so as to draw her brother, who was walking with her, off
the pavement. She distinguished the clergyman moving his hands
in the pulpit, and observed that he held something in them. This
was a white handkerchief.
"On the sixteenth day she went in a coach through the town, and
appeared much entertained with the bustle in the streets. On
asking her how she saw on that day, she answered: 'I see a great
deal, if I could only tell what I do see; but surely I am very
stupid.'
"On the seventeenth day, when her brother asked her how she was,
she replied: 'I am well, and see better; but don't tease me with
too many questions till I have learned a little better how to
make use of my eye. All that I can say is, that I am sure, from
what I do see, a great change has taken place, but I can not
describe what I feel.'
"On the eighteenth day, when pieces of paper one inch and a half
square, differently colored, were presented to her, she not only
distinguished them at once from one another, but gave a decided
preference to some colors, liking yellow most, and then pale
pink. When desirous of examining an object, she had considerable
difficulty in directing her eye to it and finding out its
position, moving her hand as well as her eye in various
directions, as a person when blindfolded or in the dark gropes
with his hands for what he wishes to touch. She also
distinguished a large from a small object when they were both
held up before her for comparison. She said she saw different
forms in various objects which were shown to her. On asking what
she meant by different forms, such as long, round, and square,
and desiring her to draw with her finger these forms on her
other hand, and then presenting to her eye the respective forms,
she pointed to them exactly; she not only distinguished small
from large objects, but knew what was meant by above and below.
A figure, drawn with ink, was placed before her eye, having one
end broad and the other narrow, and she saw the positions as
they really were, and not inverted.
"She could also perceive motions, for, when a glass of water was
placed on the table before her, on approaching her hand near it,
it was moved quickly to a greater distance, upon which she
immediately said: 'You move it; you take it away.'
"She seemed to have the greatest difficulty in finding out the
distance of any object; for, when an object was held close to
her eye, she would search for it by stretching her hand far
beyond its position, while on other occasions she groped close
to her own face for a thing far removed from her.
"She learned with facility the names of the different colors,
and two days after the colored papers had been shown to her, on
coming into a room the color of which was crimson, she observed
that it was red. She also observed some pictures hanging on the
red wall of the room in which she was sitting, distinguishing
several small figures in them, but not knowing what they
represented, and admiring the gilt frames. On the same day she
walked round a pond, and was pleased with the glistening of the
sun's rays on the water, as well as with the blue sky and green
shrubs, the colors of which she named correctly.
"She had as yet acquired, by the use of her sight, but very
little knowledge of any forms, and was unable to apply the
information gained by this new sense, and to compare it with
what she had been accustomed to acquire by her sense of touch.
When, therefore, a silver pencil-case and a large key were given
her to examine with her hands, she discriminated and knew each
distinctly; but when they were placed on the table, side by
side, though she distinguished each with her eye, yet she could
not tell which was the pencil-case and which was the key.
"On the twenty-fifth day after the operation she drove in a
carriage for an hour in the Regent's Park, and asked more
questions, on her way there, than usual, about the objects
surrounding her, such as, 'What is that?' 'It is a soldier,' she
was answered. 'And that? See, see!' These were candles of
various colors in a tallow-chandler's window. 'Who is that that
has passed us just now?' It was a person on horseback. 'But what
is that on the pavement, red?' It was some ladies who wore red
shawls. On going into the park she was asked if she could guess
what any of the objects were. 'Oh, yes,' she replied, 'there is
the sky; that is the grass; yonder is water, and two white
things,' which were two swans.
"When she left London, forty-two days after the operation, she
had acquired a pretty accurate notion of colors and their
different shades and names. She had not yet acquired anything
like an accurate knowledge of distance or of forms, and, up to
this period, she continued to be very much confused with every
new object at which she looked. Neither was she yet able,
without considerable difficulty and numerous fruitless trials,
to direct her eye to an object; so that, when she attempted to
look at anything, she turned her head in various directions,
until her eye caught the object of which it was in search."
Remarks on the Sixth Case.
This case has been adduced as a proof that the sense of sight is
sufficient, without aid from the sense of touch, to perceive whether an
object is brought nearer the eye or carried farther from it. But John
Stuart Mill rightly observes, in opposition to this ("Dissertations and
Discussions," ii, 113; London, 1859), that the observation we are
concerned with was not made "till the eighteenth day after the
operation, by which time a middle-aged woman might well have acquired
the experience necessary for distinguishing so simple a phenomenon."
Besides, she was very uncertain in her judgment of distances, and, in
her attempts to seize with the hand new and distant objects, she
frequently acted exactly like an infant.
VII. THE FRANZ CASE.
J. C. A. Franz, of Leipsic, communicates the following to the
"Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society" (by Sir Benjamin C.
Brodie), (London, 1841; i, pp. 59-69):
"F. J. is the son of a physician. He is endowed with an
excellent understanding, quick power of conception, and
retentive memory. At his birth, both eyes were found to be
turned inward to such an extent that a portion of the cornea was
hidden by the inner canthus, and in both pupils there was a
yellowish-white discoloration. That the strabismus and cataract
of both eyes in this case were congenital is evident from the
testimony both of the parents and of the nurse. The latter held
a light before the eyes of the child when he was a few months
old, of which he took no notice. I ascertained also from her
that the eyeballs did not move hither and thither, but were
always turned inward, and that but rarely either the one or the
other was moved from the internal canthus.
"Toward the end of the second year, as was stated to me, the
operation of keratonyxis was performed on the right eye, upon
which a severe iritis ensued, terminating in atrophy of the
eyeball. Within the next four years two similar operations were
performed on the left eye without success. The color of the
opacity became, however, of a clearer white, and the patient
acquired a certain sensation of light, which he did not seem to
have had before the operation.
"At the end of June, 1840, the patient, being then seventeen
years of age, was brought to me. I found the condition of things
as follows: Both eyes were so much inverted that nearly one half
the cornea was hidden. The left eye he could move voluntarily
outward, but not without exertion; it returned immediately
inward when the influence of the will had ceased. The left
eyeball was of the natural size and elasticity. The patient had
not the slightest perception of light with the right eye; the
stimulus of light had no effect on the pupil. The pupil of the
left eye, which was not round, but drawn angularly downward and
inward, did not alter in dimension with the movements of the eye
nor from the stimulus of light. On examining the eye by looking
straight into it through the pupil, the anterior wall of the
capsule appeared opaque in its whole extent, and of a color and
luster like mother-of-pearl. On looking from the temporal side
in an oblique direction into the pupil, there was visible in the
anterior wall of the capsule a very small perpendicular cleft of
about one line and a quarter in length.
"This cleft was situated so far from the center of the pupil
that it was entirely covered by the iris. With this eye the
patient had a perception of light, and was even capable of
perceiving colors of an intense and decided tone. He believed
himself, moreover, able to perceive about one third of a square
inch of any bright object, if held at the distance of half an
inch or an inch from the eye, and obliquely in such a direction
as to reflect the light strongly toward the pupil. But this, I
am convinced, was a mere delusion, for all rays of light falling
in the direction of the optic axis must have been intercepted
and reflected by the opaque capsule. By these rays, therefore, a
perception of light, indeed, might be conveyed, but certainly no
perception of objects. On the other hand, it seems probable that
the lateral cleft in the capsule permitted rays of light to pass
into the interior of the eye. But as this small aperture was
situated entirely behind the iris, those rays only would have
permeated which came in a very oblique direction from the
temporal side. Admitting, then, these rays of light to pass
through the cleft, still on account of their obliquity they
could produce but a very imperfect image, because they impinged
upon an unfavorable portion of the retina. Moreover, I satisfied
myself by experiments, that the patient could not in the least
discern objects by sight. My experiments led me to the
conclusion that his belief that he really saw objects resulted
solely from his imagination combined with his power of
reasoning. In feeling an object and bringing it in contact with
the eyelids and the cheek, an idea of the object was produced,
which was judged of and corrected according to the experience he
had gained by constant practice.
"The patient's sense of touch had attained an extraordinary
degree of perfection. In order to examine an object minutely he
conveyed it to his lips.
"On the 10th of July, 1840, I performed an operation on the left
eye. The light was so painful to him that I could not try any
experiments immediately after the operation. Both eyes were
closed with narrow strips of court-plaster, and treated with
iced water for forty-eight hours. The patient suffered from
_muscæ volitantes_, and could not bear even a mild degree of
light falling on the closed lids. After the lapse of a few
weeks, the _muscæ volitantes_ were greatly mitigated, and the
intolerance of light ceased.
"On opening the eye for the first time on the third day after
the operation, I asked the patient what he could see; he
answered that he saw an extensive field of light, in which
everything appeared dull, confused, and in motion. He could not
distinguish objects. The pain produced by the light forced him
to close the eye immediately.
"Two days afterward the eye, which had been kept closed by means
of court-plaster, was again opened. He now described what he saw
as a number of opaque watery spheres, which moved with the
movements of the eye, but when the eye was at rest remained
stationary, and then partly covered each other. Two days after
this the eye was again opened. The same phenomena were again
observed, but the spheres were less opaque and somewhat
transparent; their movements more steady; they appeared to cover
each other more than before. He was now for the first time able,
as he said, to look through the spheres, and to perceive a
difference, but merely a difference, in the surrounding objects.
When he directed his eye steadily toward an object, the visual
impression produced by the object was painful and very
imperfect, because the eye, on account of its intolerance of
light, could not be kept open long enough for the formation of
the idea as derived from visual sensation. The appearance of
spheres diminished daily; they became smaller, clearer, and more
pellucid, allowed objects to be seen more distinctly, and
disappeared entirely after two weeks. The _muscæ volitantes_,
which had the form of black, immovable, and horizontal stripes,
appeared, every time the eye was opened, in a direction upward
and inward. When the eye was closed he observed, especially in
the evening, in an outward and upward direction, an appearance
of dark blue, violet, and red colors; these colors became
gradually less intense, were shaded into bright orange, yellow,
and green, which latter colors alone eventually remained, and in
the course of five weeks disappeared entirely. As soon as the
intolerance of light had so far abated that the patient could
observe an object without pain, and for a sufficient time to
gain an idea of it, the following experiments were made on
different days.
"_First Experiment._--Silk ribbons of different colors, fastened
on a black ground, were employed to show the complementary
colors. The patient recognized the different colors, with the
exception of yellow and green, which he frequently confounded,
but could distinguish when both were exhibited at the same time.
He could point out each color correctly when a variety was shown
him at the same time. Gray pleased him best; the effect of red,
orange, and yellow was painful; that of violet and brown not
painful, but disagreeable. Black produced subjective colors, and
white occasioned the recurrence of _muscæ volitantes_ in a most
vehement degree.
"_Second Experiment._--The patient sat with his back to the
light, and kept his eye closed. A sheet of paper on which two
strong black lines had been drawn, the one horizontal, the other
vertical, was placed before him, at the distance of about three
feet. He was now allowed to open the eye, and after attentive
examination he called the lines by their right denominations.
When I asked him to point out with his finger the horizontal
line, he moved his hand slowly, as if feeling, and pointed to
the vertical; but after a short time, observing his error, he
corrected himself. The outline in black of a square [six inches
in diameter], within which a circle had been drawn, and within
the latter a triangle, was, after careful examination,
recognized and correctly described by him. When he was asked to
point out either of the figures, he never moved his hand
directly and decidedly, but always as if feeling, and with the
greatest caution; he pointed them out, however, correctly. A
zigzag and a spiral line, both drawn on a sheet of paper, he
observed to be different, but could not describe them otherwise
than by imitating their forms with his finger in the air. He
said he had no idea of those figures.
"_Third Experiment._--The windows of the room were darkened,
with the exception of one, toward which the patient, closing his
eye, turned his back. At the distance of three feet, and on a
level with the eye, a solid _cube_ and a _sphere_, each of four
inches diameter, were placed before him. I now let him open his
eye. After attentively examining these bodies, he said he saw a
_quadrangular_ and a _circular_ figure, and after some
consideration he pronounced the one a _square_ and the other a
_disk_. His eye being then closed, the cube was taken away, and
a disk of equal size substituted and placed next to the sphere.
On again opening his eye he observed no difference in these
objects, but regarded them both as disks. The solid cube was now
placed in a somewhat oblique position before the eye, and close
beside it a figure cut out of pasteboard, representing a plane
outline prospect of the cube when in this position. Both objects
he took to be something like flat quadrates. A pyramid, placed
before him with one of its sides toward his eye, he saw as a
plane triangle. This object was now turned a little, so as to
present two of its sides to view, but rather more of one side
than of the other; after considering and examining it for a long
time, he said that this was a very extraordinary figure; it was
neither a triangle, nor a quadrangle, nor a circle; he had no
idea of it, and could not describe it. 'In fact,' said he, 'I
must give it up.' On the conclusion of these experiments I asked
him to describe the sensations the objects had produced,
whereupon he said that immediately on opening his eye he had
discovered a difference in the two objects, the cube and the
sphere, placed before him, and perceived that they were not
drawings; but that he had not been able to form from them the
idea of a square and a disk, _until he perceived a sensation of
what he saw in the points of his fingers_, as if he really
touched the objects. When I gave the three bodies, the sphere,
cube, and pyramid, into his hand, he was much surprised that he
had not recognized them as such by sight, as he was well
acquainted with them by touch. These experiments prove the
correctness of the hypothesis I have advanced elsewhere on the
well-known question put by Mr. Molyneux to Locke, which was
answered by both these gentlemen in the negative.
"_Fourth Experiment._--In a vessel containing water to about the
depth of one foot was placed a musket-ball, and on the surface
of the water a piece of pasteboard of the same form, size, and
color as the ball. The patient could perceive no difference in
the position of these bodies; he believed both to be upon the
surface of the water. Pointing to the ball, I desired him to
take up this object. He made an attempt to take it from the
plane of the water; but, when he found he could not grasp it
there, he said he had deceived himself, the objects were lying
in the water, upon which I informed him of their real position.
I now desired him to touch the ball which lay in the water with
a small rod. He attempted this several times, but always missed
his aim. He could never touch the object at the first movement
of his hand toward it, but only by feeling about with the rod.
On being questioned with respect to reflected light, he said
that he was always obliged to bear in mind that the
looking-glass was fastened to the wall in order to correct his
idea of the apparent situation of objects behind the glass.
"When the patient first acquired the faculty of sight, all
objects appeared to him so near that he was sometimes afraid of
coming in contact with them, though they were in reality at a
great distance from him. He saw everything much larger than he
had supposed from the idea obtained by his sense of touch.
Moving and especially living objects, such as men, horses, etc.,
appeared to him very large. If he wished to form an estimate of
the distance of objects from his own person or of two objects
from each other without moving from his place, he examined the
objects from different points of view by turning his head to the
right and to the left. Of perspective in pictures he had, of
course, no idea; it appeared to him unnatural that the figure of
a man represented in the front of a picture should be larger
than a house or mountain in the background. All objects appeared
to him perfectly flat. Thus, although he very well knew by his
touch that the nose was prominent and the eyes sunk deeper in
the head, he saw the human face only as a plane. Though he
possessed an excellent memory, this faculty was at first quite
deficient as regarded visible objects: he was not able, for
example, to recognize visitors, unless he heard them speak, till
he had seen them very frequently. Even when he had seen an
object repeatedly he could form no idea of its visible qualities
without having the real object before him. Heretofore when he
dreamed of any persons, of his parents, for instance, he felt
them and heard their voices, but never saw them; but now, after
having seen them frequently, he saw them also in his dreams. The
human face pleased him more than any other object. Although the
newly-acquired sense afforded him many pleasures, the great
number of strange and extraordinary sights was often
disagreeable and wearisome to him. He said that he saw too much
novelty which he could not comprehend; and, even though he could
see both near and remote objects very well, he would
nevertheless continually have recourse to the use of the sense
of touch."
Final Remarks.
To the seven reports upon cases of persons born blind and afterward
surgically treated, which are here presented in abridged form from the
English originals, may be added some more recent and more accessible
ones, one by Hirschberg ("Archiv für Opthalmologie," xxi, 1. Abth., S.
29 bis 42, 1875), one by A. von Hippel (ibid., xxi, 2. Abth., S. 101),
and one by Dufour ("Archives des Sciences physiques et naturelles,"
lviii, No. 242, April, 1877, p. 420). The cases reported here are those
most discussed. I have given them considerably in detail in order that
the reader may form an independent judgment concerning the behavior of
persons born blind and then operated upon, as that behavior is described
_before_ the modern physiological controversy over empiricism and
nativism. Helmholtz ("Physiologische Optik," § 28) mentions, besides
those of Chesselden and Wardrop and Ware, which he gives in abridged
form, some other cases also. Others still may be found in Froriep's
"Notizen" (xi, p. 177, 1825, and iv, p. 243, 1837, also xxi, p. 41,
1842), partly reported, partly cited (the latter according to Franz).
In addition to the cases here given of persons born blind and then
surgically treated--persons not able to see things in space-relations
before becoming blind--one more case is to be mentioned; it is that of a
girl who in her seventh year (probably in consequence of the effect of
dazzling sunlight) lost her sight completely, but recovered it again at
the age of seventeen years after being treated with electricity. She had
to begin absolutely anew to learn to name colors like a child; all
measure of distance, perspective, size, had been lost for her _by lack
of practice_ (as O. Heyfelder relates in his work "Die Kindheit des
Menschen," second edition, Erlangen, 1858, pp. 12-15). He says, p. 12,
that the patient had been eight years blind; p. 13, that she had been
ten years so. Such cases prove the great influence of experience upon
vision in space, and show how little of this vision is inborn in
mankind.
When we compare the acquirement of sight by the normal newly-born
child and the infant with that of those born blind, we should, above
all, bear in mind that the latter in general could make use of only
_one_ eye, and also that on account of the long inactivity of the
retina and the absence of the crystalline lens, as well as in
consequence of the numerous experiences of touch, essential
differences exist. Notwithstanding this, there appears an agreement
in the manner in which in both cases vision is learned, the eye is
practiced, and the association of sight and touch is acquired. The
seventh case in particular shows plainly how strong the analogies are.
These cases are sufficient to refute some singular assertions, e. g.,
that all the newly-born must see objects reversed, as even a Buffon
("Oeuvres complètes," iv, 136; Paris, 1844) thought to be the fact. My
boy, when I had him write, in his fifth year, the ordinary figures after
a copy that I set for him, imitated the most of them, to my surprise,
always in a reversed hand (Spiegelschrift, "mirror-hand"); the 1 and the
4 he continued longest to write thus, though he often made the 4 the
other way, too, whereas he always wrote the 5 correctly. This, however,
was, of course, not owing to imperfect sight, but to incomplete
transformation of the visual idea into the motor idea required for
writing. Other boys, as I am given to understand, do the same thing. For
myself, I found the distinction between "right" and "left" so difficult
in my childhood, that I remember vividly the trouble I had with it.
Singularly enough, Buffon assumed, in 1749, that the neglect of the
double images does not yet take place at the beginning of life.
Johannes Müller, in 1826, expresses the same view. But, inasmuch as in
the first two or three weeks after the birth of a human being, in
contrast with many animals, nothing at all can as yet be distinctly
seen, it is not allowable to maintain that everything must be seen
double. Rather is it true that everything is seen neither single nor
double, since the very young child perceives, as yet, no forms
(boundary-lines) and no distances, but merely receives impressions of
light, precisely as is the case with the person born blind, in the
period directly after an operation has been performed upon his eyes.
Schopenhauer (in his treatise on "Sight and Colors," first edition,
Leipsic, 1816, p. 14) divined this truth. He says, "If a person who was
looking out upon a wide and beautiful prospect could be in an instant
wholly deprived of his intellect, then nothing of all the view would
remain for him except the sensation of a very manifold reaction of his
retina, which is, as it were, the raw material out of which his
intellect created that view."
The new-born child has, as yet, no intellect, and therefore can not, as
yet, at the beginning, see; he can merely have the sensation of light.
This opinion of mine, derived from observation of the behavior of
newly-born and of very young infants (cf. the first chapter of this
book), seems to me to be practically confirmed in an account given
by Anselm von Feuerbach in his work on Kaspar Hauser (Anspach, 1832,
p. 77).
"In the year 1828, soon after his arrival in Nuremberg, Kaspar
Hauser was to look out at the window in the Vestner Tower,
from which there was a view of a broad and many-colored summer
landscape. Kaspar Hauser turned away; the sight was repugnant
to him. At a later period, long after he had learned to speak,
he gave, when questioned, the following explanation:
"'When I looked toward the window it always seemed to me as if
a shutter had been put up close before my eyes, and that upon
this shutter a colorer had wiped off his brushes of different
colors, white, blue, green, yellow, and red, all in motley
confusion. Individual things, as I now see them, I could not,
at that time, perceive and distinguish upon it; it was
absolutely hideous to look upon.'"
By this, as well as by the experiences with persons born blind and
afterward surgically treated, it is clearly demonstrated that colors
and degrees of brightness are severally apprehended before forms and
distances can be perceived. The case must be the same with the normal
human child in the first weeks after birth.
After discrimination of the luminous sensations, the boundary-lines of
bright plane surfaces are next clearly discerned; then come forms, and,
last of all, the distances of these.
With reference to this progress of the normal infant in learning to see,
the accounts of persons born blind and afterward surgically treated are
again of great value. After the famous question put by Molyneux to
Locke, whether an intelligent person, blind from birth, would be able
immediately after an operation to distinguish a sphere from a cube by
means of the eye alone, had been answered in the negative, the opinion
was accepted as satisfactory that such a person learns the distinction
only by means of the sense of touch. Thus, the perception of difference
would come later, after the sight of different forms, only by means of
the tactual memory.
In truth, however, very many forms are discerned as different purely by
means of the eye, without the possibility of aid from any other sense.
Phenomena exclusively optical, which, like the rainbow, can not be
apprehended by touch or by hearing, are distinctly perceived by the
child at a very early period. Without touching, the different forms of
objects would be perceived by means of sight alone, and that even by a
child unable to touch, through movements of the eyes and head, changes
of bodily position, of attitude and posture, and through practice in
accommodation and in the observation of differences of brightness.
The fact correctly predicted by Molyneux, that those born blind but
afterward surgically treated can not, by means of the eye alone,
distinguish the form of a sphere from that of a cube, must accordingly
be supplemented to this extent, viz., that such persons are capable,
just as are normal children who can see, of learning this difference of
form by means of the eye alone without the direct intervention of the
sense of touch; for the co-ordination of the retinal excitations in
space and time by means of the intellect, quite independently of all
impressions from other departments of sense, is possible, and is in
countless cases actual, just as is the learning of differences of form
solely by means of the sense of touch in children who are born blind and
never learn to see.
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Transcriber's notes:
Non-ascii diacritical marks represented as follows:
[=a] a with macron
[=aa] aa with macron
[=e] e with macron
[=ee] ee with macron
[=o] o with macron
[=oo] oo with macron
[=u] u with macron
[)a] a with breve
[)e] e with breve
[)o] o with breve
[)u] u with breve
[(aa] aa with inverted breve
[(au] au with inverted breve
[(äu] äu with inverted breve
[(ee] ee with inverted breve
[(ei] ei with inverted breve
[(eu] eu with inverted breve
[(oi] oi with inverted breve
['=e] e with macron and acute accent
Changes to original text:
Page xxvii
... too high or too low (56),
changed "comma" to "fullstop"
Page xxix
_Organic Sensations and Emotions._
changed to "ORGANIC SENSATIONS AND EMOTIONS."
Page 50
a. _Central Dysarthria and Anarthria._
changed to [alpha]. _Central Dysarthria and Anarthria._
Page 55
e. g changed to e. g.
Page 67
inarticulto changed to inarticulate
Page 91
_hotto_ (horse, from the expression of the carter,
"hott-ho (_tt," instead ... changed to
_hotto_ (horse), from the expression of the carter,
"hott-ho" ("_tt_," instead ...
Page 103
unsually changed to unusually
Page 251
reference to the sound). changed to reference to the sound.
Page 276
microcephalus changed to microcephalous
Page 302
three several times changed to three separate times
1st Page Publications List
"SYSEMTATIC" changed to "SYSTEMATIC"
3rd Page Publications List
"A noteworthy ... literature.' changed to
"A noteworthy ... literature."
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